#i know it's fucked up. but ever since i lost him i've just not been the same around pets

[thedawningofthehour]

Unfortunately for Leo, the government knows who he is. I'm still on the fence about how long they've known, but they haven't exactly kept a low profile in the past two years.

(this is off-topic, but I really do love the subtle storytelling of the turtles slowly dropping their secrecy act as time goes on and more people get mutated, because New Yorkers just don't give a shit)

Gale also didn't built nukes, that is slander from Leo's side. Draxum doesn't think weapons of mass destruction should exist (his logic is that you're also screwing yourself since weapons of that caliber can't be controlled and then you inherit the ashes, not to mention it doesn't distinguish between enemies and civilians) and if he has to threaten mutually-assured destruction to not lose, he's already lost. Now, Gale has made lasers that can preemptively detonate a nuclear warhead, so the effect is somewhat similar to if Draxum was sitting on a nuke like a hen incubating a very radioactive egg-the US launches a nuke at Gale, a nuke will blow up somewhere other than NYC. Gale plans to do so over a national forest in Pennsylvania to minimize casualties, if it's ever necessary, but the EPF doesn't know that. Now that I'm thinking about it, they 100% don't know for certain that Draxum doesn't have WMDs, and I mean-the US has literally gone to war over imaginary WMDs before, there's precedent for this to the tune of $8 trillion and 4.7 million people dead, they would absolutely treat Gale like the weapon of mass destruction he is.

#Sure Gale is more valuable than Leo to them so he might get treated better#but#I am pretty sure that Gale is getting all types of medical shit done to him#…#on the other hand#if Leo IS put in a concentration camp or something he is very fucked#Like Auschwitz had over 800 people who tried to escape; some of them insanely clever#but of those only around 140 made it#did u know they wouldn’t separate children from their mothers in auschwitz#that would have been too much forceful work so they just told the mothers they would need baths#and send them with their kids together in the gaß chambers#my sisters class also had to visit the crematory and her friend got in trouble for puking#ok I mean Doth is very dark sometimes but I don‘t think you will go Joseph Mengle with it right?#Like the guy who experimented on Tiger Claw as a kid but that wasn’t graphically shown; just told from TC as a memory#oh I remember Mengle had an obsession with experimenting on twins#given that Leo and Gale couldn’t be further from twinship rn I doubt that’s relevant#Idk how you will write Bishop but the 2003 version is very pragmatic#but yeah no Gale is in for a horrific time#with Leo it depends I think#I wanted to ramble more but I looked up articles about Mengle and now I feel sick#I‘m going to watch cat videos now#love u fai#where ever you take the boys I‘m excited to read your writing

From my understanding, Mengele was only interested in identical twins. (or at least twins that looked identical-I don't think they knew the difference between monozygotic and dizygotic twins in the 30s and 40s, they just knew sometimes they looked alike and sometimes they didn't) He liked to experiment on them because one would serve as the perfect 'control' while he did horrible experiments on the other, and then he'd kill them both to do the autopsies and compare. Though I feel like I remember one instance where he took a male-female pair of twins and tried to graft the brother's genitals onto his sister, but that might have been the Japanese who did that. (the shit the Japanese did during WWII and the Cambodian genocide, reading about those subjects marked two of the very rare times I've ever read something and gone "okay, I mentally cannot handle any more of this today.")

But yeah, even if Leo and Donnie were the same species from the same clutch and could therefore be considered twins with only a bit of stretching the definition, they'd still be fraternal twins so that wouldn't apply. It is interesting that you mentioned it though.

Yeah I'm probably not going to put in an equivalent to Mengele, I haven't wanted to spoil much about Bishop but one thing I think is really important in this story is that all the warmongers have understandable motives. Because that's overwhelmingly how it is in real life. I feel like the constant dehumanization of Nazis and harping on only the most evil, horrible aspects of the genocide has been more counterproductive than anything else, because we end up distancing ourselves from the reality of it all and the choices that went into it. You can't relate to a man like Mengele. He's too horrifically evil, his sadism and complete lack of humanity is just incomprehensible to most people. The things he did, it's hard to wrap your head around the level of suffering and cruelty, it almost doesn't feel real at times. It's too hard to conceptualize.

We focus on the monsters like Mengele because-well, let's be real, partly morbid fascination, but also because he is an easy figure to hate. He was an intrinsically evil person, there's no debating that. His own son wouldn't accept his remains and refused to bring them back to Germany. It's easy to denounce him, because there's nothing about him that would hit close to home.

The vast majority of Nazis were not Mengele. They did not wake up one day and suddenly go "I hate Jews because they're smelly and I'm going to kill them now." Yes, there was an antisemitism problem in Germany already, but not like that. There were plenty of people who weren't antisemitic before Hitler rose to power. Hell, there were Jewish Nazis. They were some of the first people loaded up on trains, incidentally. (tokens get spent, after all) Nobody flipped a switch and turned these people into frothing antisemitic monsters overnight, it was a long process of exploiting people's fears, scapegoating 'others' and manufacturing hatred, eventually conditioning people to accept and even aid in increasing levels of violence against them.

And for total clarify, fuck these guys. I'm not trying to sympathize with fucking Nazis here. They did terrible shit, they deserved what they got in return, and they deserve to have their names dragged through the mud. They were horrible, depraved murderers. But most of them weren't born that way. They were radicalized. And that matters because the same methods that were used to radicalize them can be used to radicalize again.

To me, Mengele is not representative of the horrors of Nazism. Nazism didn't make him evil. He was already like that. He was an intrinsically evil man on the Nazi side, just as there were 100% intrinsically evil men on the Allied side. The difference was that Nazism gave Mengele the platform to carry out his evil and supplied him with victims. That's what makes movements like Nazism evil, not because evil people exist within them but because it allows evil people to flourish, encourages neutral people to do evil, and keeps good people from stopping them. Nobody reads about Mengele and learns how not to be Mengele. They need to read about the father of three who became a Nazi because he feared for the future of his children and Nazism told him there was an easy solution to all his problems. They need to read about that because that's going to be the thing that clicks and makes them go "I need to have a fucking talk with my dad about his attitude towards immigrants."

There are definitely people like Mengele in the EPF. I don't foresee myself writing about them. There is nothing to learn from them.

[ddaengju]

my in-laws have had this cat for almost two years now. we come over semi-frequently and we've house sat several times since they got her. we're house sitting again this month and finally today, she purred for me. she sprawled out on the bed with me and let me give her chin scritches and let me pet her consistently 🥹🥹🥹 it's been almost two years and she's finally purring. she's laying in the bed with me and sleeping by my side. i feel like i've really won.

[not-neverland06]

n a s t y d o g I logan howlett x fem!mutant!reader

One-shot A/N: I've never felt this way about a fictional character before. Every gif I see of him has me gnawing and biting at the bars of my enclosure. I want to bite him. If Hugh Jackman ever discovered what thoughts lurk inside my rotted brain about him he'd get a restraining order. This isn't OKAY Anyways... Summary: You'd thought you'd had a good thing going with Logan. You weren't officially anything to each other, but you were getting close. You truly saw a future with him, but he made it incredibly clear he did not feel the same 18+ HATE FUCKING (MDNI)

(one chance please, just one chance with him)

“Are you sure this isn’t totally clingy girlfriend of me?”

Ororo gives you an irritated look and Jean laughs. “Not at all, Scott loves it when I surprise him like this.” You’re all huddled in your room, each of you in varying stages of getting ready. Jean is finishing off her eyeliner at your vanity, Ororo is putting on her boots, and you’re trying to decide between a skirt and a dress. 

You’re not entirely sure how, or why, Logan and Scott decided to go to the bar together tonight. You suspect it has something to do with Jean. She wants them to start getting along so there’s less friction when you’re all around each other. 

At Jean’s idea, Logan had muttered, “When hell freezes over,” in your ear before he had left for the night. You’d gotten a little antsy without him to entertain you and had mistakenly blurted out the idea of going to visit them. Ororo had been dying to get out of the house and Jean was a little worried about her boyfriend as well. They’d agreed to go along with you and you’ve felt a weight in your stomach ever since. 

Your relationship with Logan was relatively new. Hell, a month ago you’d thought he’d hated you the same he did Scott. You’d, of course, been proven wrong when you’d had a few drinks with him and things had taken a very physical turn. 

You weren’t sure if he’d just wanted a one-night stand or something serious. But when you’d tried to sneak out the next morning and he’d muttered a grumpy, “Where’re you going?” You’d gotten your answer. 

You hadn’t been on any real dates, there didn’t ever seem to be time for them. But you spent most of your days together. Sometimes just silently enjoying each other’s company, other times you would be holed up in one of your rooms cuddling. The thought always brings a stupid lovesick grin to your face. 

It’s one of your first real relationships and you’re worried that things are moving a little too fast. At least on your end. You can already tell that you’re falling for him. Headfirst into the deep end of love. And it’s terrifying because you truly cannot tell what he thinks about you. Clearly, he likes you. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t let you follow him around like a lost puppy. 

But he’s never truly said anything to you. There’s no official label as to what you two are. You say girlfriend off-handly and you usually don’t mean it when you reference yourself. You’ve never outright said he’s your boyfriend and he’s never really claimed you. He’s made it explicitly clear he doesn’t want you sleeping with other men, and you’ve said the same to him about women. You both agreed on that, but…

You kind of drive yourself crazy trying to figure this out. He’s not vocal about his feelings and everything’s still new so you don’t like pressuring him. You also worry that if you push him too far he’ll just get tired of you and move on. It’s not fair to assume that of him, and you know everything would be better if you just talked to him. But you’re scared. You’re scared the conversation will take the wrong direction and everything will blow up in your face. 

Jean calls your name and your head shoots up to see both Ororo and Jean looking at you expectantly. You flush when you realize they must have been talking to you and you’d just completely zoned out thinking about Logan. 

“Huh?” You blurt out, cringing at how dumb you sound. 

Jean gives you a concerned look, “I can practically taste your anxiety.” The telepath frowns and offers you a comforting smile. “Don’t worry about it, I promise, Logan won’t mind at all.”

“You’re fine,” Ororo adds, because clearly the look on your face screams, I need constant validation. They’re not wrong, but still, you hate feeling like an exposed bundle of nerves. “Think of it as girl’s night, the boys just happen to be there.” 

You force a smile on your face and give your most enthusiastic nod. You change into the dress and finish up with your hair. You finally start chatting with them again, engaging so it might disguise just how nervous you feel. 

There’s this clenching feeling, traveling from your stomach up to your chest. It makes you sick, makes you hurt. And it’s not because you think Logan will be upset with you for crashing. He’d be relieved, if anything. There’s something else. Premonition isn’t one of your abilities, but you’re seriously starting to doubt that now. 

The bar is loud when you walk in. The soles of your shoes immediately start to stick to the floor and your nose screws up in disgust at the loud laughter coming from around the pool tables. You glance around, trying to see if you can spot Logan. 

You’d say you could spot him in any crowd. But has a propensity to hunker down and try to attract as little attention as possible so people don’t bother him. “There he is,” Jean taps your shoulders and points to the two men at the end of the bar. 

Like you’d thought, Logan is hunched over his whiskey, glowering down at the wood under him like it had insulted him. You almost want to laugh at the sight. Some of the earlier anxiety eases its grip on you and you feel your shoulders begin to untense. 

Before you can walk over Ororo grabs Jean’s wrist. “Gotta go to the bathroom,” she tugs Jean behind her. 

Jean looks over her shoulder at you and smiles encouragingly, “Go to them, we’ll catch up in a second.” You give her a tentative nod and slip through the crowd. There are more people here than you thought there would be. 

You’re happy not to spot any kids in the crowd. You’ve had a few too many nights out crashed by kids who thought they were good at sneaking out. 

It’s easy enough not to spot you or the other women in the crowd. Mutants have gotten good at blending in with the people around them. Makes it easier to get around. It’s probably why neither Logan nor Scott stop their conversation as you approach. “So,” Scott draws the word out, fingers tapping against the glass of his beer. 

“Don’t,” Logan warns. You want to laugh at his grumpy demeanor, but someone’s accidentally elbowed you and you find yourself stumbling a few steps back. It’s taking entirely too long to get to them, the bar isn’t even that big. There’s just that many people here. 

Scott ignores him and rolls his eyes. “Look, we’re stuck here for a while. Try and pull that stick out of your ass.”

“How about I put one in yours?” Logan’s claws come out slightly. But then they both share an odd look and Scott smirks. “Shut the fuck up,” Logan grouses, “not like that.”

“Right,” Scott huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. He picks up his bottle and takes a long drink. You’ve nearly reached them now. You stop, though, when you hear Scott say your name. You shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t. Eavesdropping now is just asking to get hurt. 

You drop back into the crowd, hoping the smells of others will stop Logan from discovering you lurking behind them both. Scott continues, “How’s that going?”

You crane your neck forward, trying to hear them better over the karaoke happening behind you. Someone is butchering Britney Spears but you couldn’t care less right now. Logan shouldn’t answer. Since when has he ever shared anything with Scott?

So, imagine your surprise when his answer isn’t immediately telling him to fuck off. “Eh,” he shrugs, downing the rest of his whiskey. Your face drops in irritation. Seriously, all this skulking around for an Eh? That’s bullshit. 

You keep yourself from stepping forward, forcing your feet still, and ignoring the little voice in the back of your head telling you this is a bad idea. You’ve committed this much, you’re seeing it through. Scott whistles lowly, “That bad, huh?” Oh, fuck off, Summers. 

Logan shakes his head and for a moment you have a brief feeling of hope lifting you up. “Nah, not bad. It’s just, I don’t know.” Logan sits up and signals the bartender for a refill. Your snooping senses go off and you briefly see Ororo and Jean exiting the bathroom. Desperate for something to keep them at bay, you flick your wrist. The man in front of them tips his drink down Jean’s shirt, slurring out apologies. Jean huffs and Ororo brings her back into the bathroom. 

Scott and Logan somehow missed the whole interaction and you promise yourself that you’ll pay for Jean’s dry cleaning. You’re definitely not going to. “Think she wants something I don’t,” Logan tells Scott, and your heart plummets to your feet. You can practically see it deflate, all the lovesickness draining out of it and onto the floor of this grimy bar. 

“Like, she just wants to fuck around?”

Logan shakes his head and downs another glass of whiskey. He’s just swallowing it down like it’s water. At a certain point, the bartender gets sick of it and just leaves him with the bottle. “No, she wants something real. Like a real relationship.” Scott’s brows furrow and Logan shrugs. “Not interested.” 

It’s the way he says it that really bothers you. There’s nothing wrong with wanting something different in a relationship. It happens all the time. But he says it so dismissively. He knows that you want something real with him, something secure and loving. He knows that, continues to fuck you and lead you on, and then speaks as though you’re an idiot for ever being interested in that. 

Hurt hasn’t set in yet. You’re staring wide-eyed, jaw agape with shock as you stare at Logan’s back. You’d thought a conversation needed to be had. But you didn’t think that he thought of you like this. You’d thought you meant something to him. 

Scott seems to share the sentiment, his lips tugged down into a frown. He leans against the bar, surveying Logan with a disbelieving look. “What?” Logan snaps.

Scott raises his hands in surrender, shaking his head and backing off. “Nothing, man, I just thought you two were serious about each other.” You miss whatever Logan says as an arm slings itself around your shoulder. 

“What’re you doing?” A husky, seductive voice whispers against the shell of your ear. You jump in shock, glaring at Ororo as she grins at you. She lets her arm slide off your shoulders and glances over at Jean. “I think she was spying.”

Jean nods, nudging you forward. “Definitely spying. Hear anything good?”

You fortify your mind against her probing fingers before she can find out. “Nope,” you blurt out. You hope the racing of your heart is dismissed by your constantly frazzled nature. You hope the look on your face is explained by your earlier boredom and anxiety. You pray that none of them notice the way you lean away from Logan when the men finally turn around and notice you all. 

Scott breathes out a dramatic sigh of relief and slumps onto Jean. “Thank god, I thought I was going to die trying to talk to this brick wall.” his eyes flick towards you in a blink-and-you-miss-it moment. There’s a brief pitying look before he grins. “Come to get your boyfriend?” There’s a heavy emphasis on the word that you never would have noticed had you not heard their conversations. 

It’s clearly a petty dig at Logan. And you would appreciate it if you didn’t feel the sudden urge to vomit up your dinner. “Thought you might need saving from Logan.” You tell him, a chuckle hiding the slight tremor in your voice. 

You’re not sure if he does, but you hope Logan notices how you avoided the word boyfriend. You hope that he hurts the same way you do. But you know, deep down, that he doesn’t care. He’s probably relieved that you didn’t use the title. 

Logan gets off his stool, he wraps his arm around your shoulder, and pulls you into a brief hug. His lips press against your temple before he dips down to whisper, “Thank you,” in your ear.

Asshole, he’s not allowed to smile at you the way he is. If you weren’t in such a crowded place and already overstimulated, you’d shove him away. If your friends weren’t watching you’d take his arm and slam it down onto the bar until you hear his fucking adamantium bones break. 

That might have been too far. Maybe you’re not that angry, but you’re hurt.

You place your hands against his chest, a thin smile on your lips while you hum a simple, “Mhm.” He doesn’t seem to notice the way you push away from him. It’s easily dismissed by you cheekily stealing his seat at the bar. 

He comes up behind you, hands bracketing you and keeping you stuck against the bar while you order your drink. One of his hands drifts down, laying against your thigh. You know this isn’t sexual, this is him comforting you. 

He shouldn’t know how horrible you feel in such busy places. He shouldn’t know that and know that his touch is grounding and then help you. Not if he doesn’t want something serious. If he didn’t want to be your boyfriend, didn’t want to be anything but a fuck, then why do this to you? Did he not think this was leading you on? Is this just him caring for you?

You’ll drown in a sea of unanswered questions before the night is over if you linger too long. You tip your head back, let your shot burn its way down your throat, and turn towards the others with a smile. You feel your worries fade and your focus loosen as you simply drift further into your mind. 

You must have disassociated or something. By the time you realize you’re no longer hearing bad karaoke and your elbows aren’t sticking to the bar, you’re already home. You stare in the mirror, hand pausing as you brush your teeth before you quickly finish. 

You didn’t drink much, you never do. It fucks with your abilities and causes migraines. You rinse your mouth out and glance into your bedroom. Logan groans and stretches. His back bows, muscles flexing and you rip your eyes away. You can’t let yourself be distracted by the chest you want to drape yourself across. 

You need to talk to him. It’s never been more clear. You wipe your mouth and toss the towel onto the rim of the sink. You take in a deep breath, trying to get rid of the nerves plaguing you. It’s never worked before, it’s not going to suddenly cure you now. 

You give up on the thought and instead, shove down the anxiety until you have enough confidence to speak. It takes a little while, Logan peaks an eye open, eyebrows quirked when he sees you just staring at him. “Something up, bub?” he flexes, on purpose, and you roll your eyes. You grab his shirt out of your hamper and toss it at him. 

“Put this on. Can’t think when you look like that.”

He chuckles, “That’s the point.” at your pointed glare his smile drops and he tugs the beater on. It barely does anything to deter you. If anything you’re having more trouble paying attention. Especially now that his full attention is on you. The humor is gone from the room, a thick tension replaces it. Logan seems to feel it, sitting up straighter and glaring at you like he’s trying to read your mind. “What’s wrong?” It’s a demand more than a question. 

It’s hard to look at him. But you refuse to let yourself cower now. You take in a fortifying breath and let your gaze bore into his. You put all the hurt and anger you feel into it, willing yourself to be firm. “We need to talk.”

“‘Bout what?” He’s brusque, but there’s a slight concern to his tone. 

There’s no point hiding this. And maybe you had misheard, maybe there was a conversation prefacing the one you’d heard. And you’ll talk it out and everything will be okay. “I heard you and Scott talking at the bar.”

The hope you had, as minimal as it was, is dashed at your feet. He sucks in a deep breath and the look on his face has you crestfallen. You can feel your chest cave in. You feel so stupid all of a sudden. Constantly following after him, even before you started dating him. Looking at him with stars in your eyes and latching onto his every move and word. 

You’d worshiped him, put him up on a pedestal he didn’t deserve. Superhuman or not, at the end of the day he was still a man. And they’ve done nothing but disappoint you. You suck your teeth, gaze dropping to your feet as you fight back the tears in your eyes. “Right,” you whisper, stepping back from him. 

“Look,” he starts. You force your eyes up and watch as he rubs uncomfortably at the back of his neck. He takes a step towards you and you shake your head, stepping away from him. His arms fall to his sides and he sighs. “Sorry,” he mutters.

“That’s it?” You demand, tone incredulous. You weren’t some great love or anything. But that’s seriously all he has to say.

He opens his mouth, eyes softening as he stares at you. Then he snaps it shut, something covers his face and his expression is borderline cruel as he sneers at you. “Not my fault you got in over your head, kid. Never said I wanted anything more with you.” He points at you, and you suddenly feel like a little girl getting scolded. You’ve never had a partner make you feel this small, especially not Logan. “You were just convenient.”

You rear back like he slapped you. You think it might have hurt less than that. To know you wasted so much time on such a fucking dick makes you want to throw up. Or scream, or cry. You can’t decide on one. But your powers can, the walls are shaking, knick-knacks falling off your shelves as energy pulses from you. 

You’ll face the hurt, the sadness, the horrible ache of rejection later. Right now, you need him out of your face before you bring the whole mansion crumbling down around you. “Out.” You grind the word out, turning away from him and clutching your hands to your chest. You take in quick, rapid breaths, trying to think of anything other than how horrible you feel. 

You haven’t lost control like this in a long time. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of being the reason you get put on probation again. He whispers your name, coming up behind you like he’s going to touch you. 

You want to lash out, want to hurt him like he’s hurt you. But you’ll only cause more damage than necessary. He’s not worth hurting the kids in the rooms around you. You shove past him, ignoring the way he shouts your name. 

You dart out into the hall, grateful there are so few people milling around. Nearly everyone’s asleep, just a few stragglers finishing up their homework for tomorrow. A few of them give you odd looks that turn concerned when they see Logan chasing after you. Your bones are practically vibrating by the time you make it outside. 

You rush towards the grove of trees at the back of the mansion. Your knees give out under you before you can make it very far. Energy pulses out of you in an explosive circle. You hear bark crack and turn into nothing but dust as the air around you trembles. 

It’s a relief, like going to the bathroom after holding it all day. You feel it drain away from you, a plug pulled out as the energy rushes from you. It slows after a minute, feeling more like a leak than a steady stream. 

Your hands shake by your sides as you lay trembling on the grass. Your eyelids flutter shut and you try and keep them open but it’s hard. All of your energy had been spent keeping yourself in check until you made it out of the mansion. 

“I’ve got you,” a voice mutters near your ear. Familiar strong arms dip under your knees, lifting you up and pulling you into a sturdy chest. You recognize the body, recognize the uncomfortable warmth coming from him. But your tongue won’t work and you're passing out before you can try and push him away. 

You’re in your own bed when you wake up again. You’re briefly comforted by the warm feeling of the sheets around you before you realize how cold the other side of the bed is. You’re so used to the feeling of someone being beside you that it’s jarring for no one to be there. You sit up, a spark of anxiety lighting up inside you before it’s being quelled by an outside force. 

“I think it’s best if we keep that under control.” You’re not surprised to hear Charles’s voice. You can’t be, not when he’s actively keeping you calm and placid. You lean back against your headboard. You tilt your head lazily, looking at him while he looks out the window. 

“That tree was a hundred years old.”

You wince, face screwing up when you remember the large oak tree you obliterated last night. “I can remake it,” you promise. 

“You could,” he corrects, “but whatever happened last night between you and Logan is causing your powers to be volatile.” He finally turns towards you, the motor of his wheelchair a dull buzz as he smiles at you. There’s no resentment in his gaze at least. You’d known he wouldn’t be mad at you. He was used to accidents like this. Had you hurt another person, however, this would be an entirely different conversation. 

There’s a dull ache in your chest at the mention of Logan, but it’s quickly covered by another wave of calm from Charles. He smiles and holds out two metal bracelets. They’re thick, something red inlaid into the black metal. They look like handcuffs more than anything. His lips quirk up at your thought and you frown. 

“That’s what they are, right? Cuffs.”

“You’re not a criminal,” he assuages, his tone gentle as you take them from him. There’s a small silver button inside that you click and the metal springs open. You place your left wrist inside and it snaps shut, it’s a snug fit. It won’t be moving around anytime soon. You put the right one on and feel Charles’ hold on your mind ease the second it's closed. Every horrible feeling from last night crashes down on you and you nearly choke on it. 

You wonder how Charles managed to keep you asleep for so long without the roof crumbling. He chuckles, the noise tired. “Jean helped me. It took a while for the cuffs to be ready.”

The way he says that causes alarms to go off in your head. “How long?” He takes in a sharp breath and shakes his head, attempting to dismiss the question. “Charles,” you snap, voice bordering on a shout. 

“Two days,” he says. You gasp and slump back against your sheets. He says your name but you get to your feet and pace. You don't know what to do with yourself. There’s energy buzzing under your skin, but the cuffs are keeping it at bay. It feels wrong like your pores are being clogged with acid. 

“Two days.” You look over at him, horror painting your face and you can see why he was so apprehensive to tell you. “It’s never been that bad before.”

“No,” he starts cautiously, “It hasn’t. Which makes me wonder, what transpired between you and Logan that destroyed my grandfather’s tree?” 

You cringe at the mention of the tree. He’s never going to let go of that. Even when you recreate it, he’s still going to hold it over your head. His teasing eases you out of the spiral you were heading down and you glance over at him. “You’ve been in my head for two days. I’m sure both you and Jean already know.”

He smacks his lips together and shrugs, clasping his hands in front of himself. “Simply seeing if you wanted to discuss it, my dear.”

You vehemently shake your head and sit back down on your bed. “No, I don’t want to talk about him. I don't want to see him.” Charles gives you a look like he doesn’t believe you and you hate it. You truly don’t want to see Logan again. Just thinking about him makes you want to explode. He was a pig and you regret ever wasting your time on him. 

There’s a shriveled part of your heart weeping somewhere, but you crush in your fist until it shuts the fuck up. “Right,” Charles nods. “I do believe it’s best for your recovery that we keep you two separated for a while.” He rolls past you and places a comforting hand on yours. “Rest, you’ll feel more like yourself soon.”

You nod and watch him leave. Exhaustion suddenly seems to drop its heavy weight on your shoulders. Two days being restrained by telepaths probably wasn’t very restful. You lay across your comforter, rolling over and hoping when you wake up your heart will be healed. 

Two weeks. Two pathetic, snot-filled, and disgusting weeks of sobbing over Logan. You felt like a sixteen-year-old again, crying over the boy that didn’t like you back. It was awful, especially knowing that the entirety of the mansion knew what was wrong with you. 

Your students would leave your class and you would lock your doors, hiding under your desk as you wept. Those with superhearing or telepathy would bake you cookies and leave gifts at your door. It was sweet, but honestly made you feel ten times worse. You felt like your sadness was a burden you were forcing everyone to carry. 

Your mother would be so disappointed in you. She’d always told you that you mourn a relationship half the amount of time you were in it. Of course, hers never lasted more than a few weeks. And she’d had more boyfriends than you could count on three hands. 

Besides, you were allowed to wallow for a while. This was someone you were starting to fall for. To be so blind going into and leaving the relationship was awful. Having the rug ripped out from under you had been cruel and needless. You’re resentful and grateful he’d been so horrifically honest with you. On one hand, if the relationship had just ended, you’d be pining after him. Wondering what you’d done to lose such an amazing guy. 

But being faced with the brutal truth, knowing he was a piece of shit, it makes you hate yourself. You should have seen it. Should have known that he didn’t want you like you wanted him. But there were never any signs. You’d run it through your head a million times. Every interaction you’ve ever had with him. None of it shows you where he’d been lying to you or using you. You can’t even trust yourself anymore. 

There’s a loud knock on your door and you sniffle, tossing another tissue in the trash as you go to answer it. “Hello?” You croak. You can barely see, eyes puffy and so swollen your vision is blurry. 

“Holy hell,” Ororo scoffs and shakes her head. She pushes into your room and slams the door shut before anyone can see how awful you look. To be fair, you keep yourself relatively put together during the day. But it’s after hours now, you’re allowed to be a mess. 

“You look like shit.” 

Neither of you are prepared as you begin to blubber. Your lips tremble and your voice shakes as you begin to sob. “I know,” you wail. “I hate it.” Ororo’s eyes widen in horror and she quickly pushes you into your desk chair, grabbing a box of tissues and shoving it in your hands. 

“I feel,” you stutter, having to take in a few shuddering breaths before you can get the words out. “He tore out my heart and ripped it up with his stupid fucking claws.”

“Okay, okay,” Ororo runs her hands over your arms, trying to soothe you. “I know, sh, it’s okay.” She groans, “Stop crying,” she pleads under her breath. 

“I’m trying!” You snap at her, running hands over your wet cheeks and trying to swallow down the rest of your tears. 

“Look,” she steps back and shakes her head. She glances down at you, disgust poorly hidden on her face. She’s really fucking bad at comforting someone. “This is awful, I can’t take it anymore. You two keep dancing around each other and you’re putting everyone on edge. You won’t stop crying and he keeps going off,” she holds her hands up and shakes her head. “I just can’t do it anymore.”

You frown, brows turning down in confusion. “What?” You didn’t think Logan would be mad. You pictured him skipping through a field of daisies, happy to finally be rid of you. It only made you hate yourself more that you were still crying over it all. 

“He’s kind of losing it,” she seems reluctant to relent the information. “Look,” she kneels in front of you and snatches the tissue box from your hand. She tosses it to the side and forces you to meet her eyes. “He’s in love with you. We all know it, Jean’s confirmed it. He loves you, he needs you, he’s just terrified to admit it. He’s afraid of what's going to happen if you two become real.”

Your eyes widen with the realization. She nods enthusiastically as you connect the pieces. You can’t deny what’s so plainly laid in front of you when she assures you that even Jean knows. Jean knowing means she just did a nosy dive into his head. 

You can picture what could happen. With rom-com levels of nauseating romance, you run to find him. You tell him you don’t care that he’s afraid. You don’t care he pushed you away and you do love him. He’s not going to lose you. Nothing can rip you apart. You ride off into the sunset on Scott’s bike blah blah blah. 

This isn’t a fucking romance. And you’re not going to cry over a man who's too much of a pussy to admit he has feelings. You like men who have emotional depth deeper than a teaspoon. “Are you fucking kidding me?"

Ororo’s face blanches and she slowly backs away from you as you stand. “No,” she answers slowly, like she’s not sure of herself now. 

“That’s what I’ve been crying over?” You feel upset for an entirely different reason. You never misread the signs. You never missed a hint that he didn’t feel what you did. He did! He was just happier letting you doubt yourself and the love you held for him than admitting he felt something. You tear off the depression hoodie you’ve been living in for the past two weeks. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

You don’t know where you’re going. Normally, you’d run into a forest to let out a blast of energy. It drained you enough that you wouldn’t have to feel anything. But with these cuffs on, you can’t do anything. 

You storm out of your room and stomp down the stairs, uncaring who you wake up. You’ve wasted so much time on Logan, you refuse to stay in your room and cry for another fucking night. 

“I want to see her,” Logan growls. He tries to move around Charles, but he stops him with his mind, holding him in place while Jean disappears inside your room. Logan watches her go and glares at her retreating back as the door closes behind her. 

It’s been a day already, you’ve never needed to be out for more than a few hours. He doesn’t want to think that there’s anything wrong with you, that he might have permanently broken something inside you. 

That talk at the bar with Scott had been stupid. He would have said anything to get him to shut the fuck up and leave him alone. He didn’t really mean what he said, he just wanted him to back off. And saying that your relationship wasn’t anything was quicker than pouring out every thought he’s had of you. 

It was easier lying than it was to admit just how much he wanted you. Just how far he would go for you. But then you’d overheard, and you brought it up. And there’d been faith on your face. Like even you couldn’t believe what he had said because you could see through the bullshit. 

But all Logan had seen was a way out. This was an opportunity to finally get out of the suffocating clutches of something he didn’t want to admit was love. He took the chance before he could think. It’s what he was used to. Taking the easy way out, especially when it came to shit like emotions. 

He hadn’t thought you were going to explode, though. Because that’s exactly what you’d done. By the time he’d caught up to you, you’d burned a crater into the ground and had destroyed Charles’ stupid fucking tree. 

Seeing you like that, laying there lifeless, it terrified him. He didn’t want to live in a world that you weren’t in. There was no fucking point. It was sobering, realizing that, and then realizing that he was the reason you were like that in the first place. 

He didn’t want to live without you and he certainly would never be able to come to terms with being the reason you were dead. But it didn’t matter, whatever realizations he was coming to. Charles and Jean were completely blocking him from your room. They weren’t even giving him a chance to look at you. And he was about five seconds away from ripping the old bastard’s head off and just barrelling inside. 

He didn’t care what they said, he needed to see that you were okay. “I’m afraid you’re not going to be able to see her for a very long time.”

“Stay out of my head,” Logan growls, glaring down at the man. “What are you talking about?” He presses, finally processing the rest of his sentence.

Charles sighs and rolls away from him. Logan glares at his back but ultimately follows. “You were the cause of this, yes?” Reluctantly, Logan nods, there’s no point in hiding it. He’s sure Charles already knows. “For her own safety, the two of you will need to remain separated.”

That had been it. There was no arguing about it. No fighting Charles. It was for your safety that he stayed away from you. No matter how much he wanted to explain himself, he wouldn’t risk another meltdown like that. 

You didn’t deserve to get hurt because of someone like him. He wouldn’t be able to stand hurting you again. 

But two weeks seemed like a lot. At a certain point, he’s sure you’re just avoiding him. He knows he can’t blame you. He’d been a fucking idiot. But that didn’t make him any happier. If anything, he was getting more and more pissed off every day. 

He had less patience for mistakes. Was lashing out at the kids more often and don’t even get started on the petty fucking fights he was picking with Scott. How long did you fucking need before you talked to him again?

He knows you’re upset, your crying keeps everyone up at night. Something he’s sure you’d be mortified to learn about. Why won’t you let him comfort you? Why do you have to be so petulant, running around the corner every time you see him? Pointedly ignoring him when you’re in the same room together. 

He could fix this, make this all better. But you’re just not letting him. He knows this is why he loves you. It’s why he was so drawn to you. You seem like a bundle of nerves, constantly flitting around and keeping yourself small. It had been off-putting at first. And then he’d seen you training with Scott, kicking his ass more like. A switch had been flicked in his head. 

He could finally see you for what you were. He finally realized that it was your abilities you were keeping small. You were a fucking spitfire and you didn’t hesitate to tell him off, he loved it. Loved arguing with you just so he could see you get all pissed off. 

But that stubborn attitude he loved was really biting him in the ass right now. 

There’s a knock on his bedroom door and he doesn’t even get to pretend it’s going to be you. He smells Jean’s perfume and rolls his eyes. He puffs on his cigar and contemplates ignoring her.

“Don’t be a jackass, open the damn door.” 

Fuckin’ telepaths. “What?” He snaps at her the second the door is open. Her face screws up when she smells the smoke from his cigar. He knows she wants to put it out, and can see it in the twitch of her fingers. He raises a brow, a silent challenge to try him. He’s itching for another fight and she can feel it. 

She lets out a sharp breath, choosing her battles wisely and backing off. He’s almost disappointed. “We need to talk. This whole thing between the two of you is ridiculous. You’re a mess, she’s a mess…”

Her voice trails off into nothing more than the annoying pitch of a fly. Logan can’t be bothered to listen to her scold him. He’s not a fucking kid, and maybe if you were acting like an adult, they wouldn’t be having this problem. 

A few doors down he can hear you shouting, then the door to your room slams open. He darts off his bed, opening his own door to see what you’re doing. He only sees the back of your head as you angrily stomp down the stairs. 

Enough is fucking enough, he was finishing this now. He was sick of your side of the bed being empty and the stupid fucking glare on your face every time you saw him. He doesn’t even bother saying anything to Jean as he leaves, just chases after you. 

Jean watches him go with a perturbed look. She steps out of the room and glances down the hall. Ororo steps out of your room and walks towards her. “Well?” Jean probes. 

Ororor shrugs, “She’s over it.” Jean smiles but it’s quickly wiped off her face by Ororo’s expression. “Not in the way we wanted.

Jean clenches her eyes shut and takes in a deep breath. She needs you two to figure your shit out or she’s never going to be able to get a good night’s sleep again.

You find yourself in the gym. It’s not your favorite place in the world, you don’t usually get to train with the others. You’re stuck with telepaths, mainly the ones who can shut your powers down if you get too out of control. That hasn’t been a problem since you got the cuffs, but you’ve been too sad to test them out. 

Now you find yourself obliterating a punching bag. You wrap the energy around your fists and let it protect the thin skin as you pummel into the bag. You don’t know what else to do. You can’t have energy meltdowns anymore. You have to try and funnel it all out physically, but it’s not working. Nothing is. 

“Imagining it’s me?” You pause midswing. You glance over to the door just in time to see Logan stalking towards you. He unzips his jacket slowly. So slowly it almost seems provocative. He tugs it off and tosses it onto a nearby bench. 

You scoff as you watch him. “Do you ever have a shirt on?”

He shrugs and moves towards the ring in the middle of the gym. His movements are lithe and fluid as he hops onto the ring, every bit a wild animal. You watch as the muscles in his torso ripple and force your eyes off of him. You try and focus your attention back on the bag, but all your earlier energy is gone. Your mind is completely wrapped around Logan. 

Which you’re sure is exactly what he wants, or he wouldn’t be staring at you so smugly as he leans against the ropes and waits for you to acknowledge him. You suck on your teeth, irritation blooming in sporadic bursts throughout your body that has you nearly shaking. Finally, you give in. 

He smirks the second your eyes meet, “I can take it, sweetheart. A lot better than that little toy of yours can.” He nods towards the punching bag but the insinuation isn’t lost on you. You and Logan had been very active in your relationship. You could barely go a day without tasting each other. 

You’ve been pent up since the breakup. You’d given in a few days ago, pulled out your old vibrator, and tried to bring even a semblance of joy back into your life. But nothing could compare to Logan. 

His tongue darts out, wetting his lips as he waits for you to react. He’s standing there, staring down at you with all the surety in the world that you’re going to fuck him. It makes you want to dig your nails in and rip him apart, bit by bit. 

You can already picture it in your mind, using your abilities to pick him apart until he’s nothing but molecules dispersed through the air. He’s lucky you have the cuffs on, without them you’re sure he’d already be dead. 

You smirk and move towards the edge of the ring, your voice drops as you purr up at him, “You wanna play, Logan?”

He grins and moves off the ropes, starting towards you as you make your way onto the ring. You’re slightly less graceful than he was, but you’re too focused on wiping the smug look off his face to pay attention. “Come on kid,” he taunts, voice as low as it usually is when he’s fucking into you. “Let’s see what you got.”

You’re not stupid enough to just outright swing at him. You feint to the right and bring your knee up into his ribs. He only needs one hand to wrap around your thigh and drag you forward. His other hand goes to your hip, tugging you closer until you’re practically grinding against each other. You grit your teeth and glare up at him. 

“Come on, sweetheart, that can’t be all you got for me.” Energy wraps around your head, blurring the air around you. You slam your temple against his, it provides enough of a distraction for you to yank your leg out of his grip. You throw your right fist into his ear, bouncing back with a grin as he shakes his head. 

He practically growls as he reorients himself. You shrug and smirk, “What, don’t tell me that’s all you got, wolvie.”

“Don’t fuckin’ call me that,” he grumbles. You open your mouth, prepared to taunt him again. But he’s lunging towards you and you just barely have enough time to dart out of his way. You know he’s going easy on you. He could have had you just then if he really wanted this. 

But he’s dragging this out. Forcing you to spend as much time with him as you can. It only pisses you off further. You plant your foot on his back and kick him forward. He barely even stumbles and it only further confirms your suspicions. “Stop fucking holding back,” you yell at him. 

He turns around slowly. You almost expect there to be a sneer on his face, something angry. Instead, he looks fucking thrilled, like this is all just foreplay for him. He laughs, so low you can barely hear it, and his chest flexes as his claws come out. 

“You sure?” It’s a taunt, a dare, he knows you aren’t going to take the bait. You’d be stupid to, you don’t heal like he does. Once those things get in you, you’re screwed. But right now, you’re too pissed off to try and care. 

You don’t say anything, you just duck under his fist as he swings at you. You know he made it easy for you, giving you an opening to fall into. He’s treating you like you’re something fragile. And maybe you are. One wrong move in this fight and you might not make it through the night. But anger is making you blind to logic. 

Him playing fair just makes you want to play dirty. You use the opening he gives you, letting energy form around your fist and pulling back just enough to slam into his ribs. He coughs, doubling over as you hear bones crack under your hit. He’ll heal in seconds, you can’t bring yourself to feel too bad for him. 

Maybe if he ever took you seriously you might not be such a bitch. But he didn’t think you were good enough to be honest with and he still was treating you like a plaything. In your opinion, he deserves whatever you give him and more. He doubles over and you swing your leg around, bringing it down across his face. 

You hear a crack as your socked foot connects with his face, something crunches underneath you. And when your sole hits the mat again you see the blood leaking from his nose. You almost apologize. Almost, then you see the look on his face. His pupils are swallowing the hazel of his eyes, lips parted as he pants through his teeth. He looks fucking animalistic. 

You have no warning as he pounces on you. His lips smother your own, moving over you with little to no grace. There’s nothing romantic or gentle about this. His fingers are digging so hard into your shirt, you’re sure you hear the seams rip. But you can’t bring yourself to care. 

One of your hands goes to his hair, tugging at the roots until he’s groaning into your mouth. You rake your nails up his back roughly. He cusses against your lips, hand traveling up to your chin so he can roughly jerk you back. 

He stares down at you, a silent question on his face. You’ve barely nodded before he’s descending upon you again. Lips and teeth clash borderline painfully as he lowers you onto the mat. You’re missing all the usual love and tenderness he treats you with, but you don’t care. 

You want to be rough. You want to hurt him like he hurt you, make him ache for you the way you do him. You wrap your legs around his, lifting your pelvis until you have enough leverage to flip him. Your thighs straddle his waist and you grind down against the prominent bulge in his sweatpants. 

He groans into your open mouth, large palms grabbing at your ass and spreading you so he can thrust between your clothed thighs. You can’t help but moan at the friction. It’s just enough to keep you on edge, he pulls back every time you think you might be close to something real building. 

You rip your mouth off his. He glares up at you as you grab his hair and yank his head back. You slam his head hard enough into the mat for it to echo through the room and he growls against your grip. You grin down at him as you slowly get off him. You make a show of stripping, enjoying the way his eyes track your movements. He looks like a dog, panting and waiting for his treat. 

You’re tempted to get yourself off, making him watch, and then leave him straining against his sweatpants. But you need this bad, need him to scratch the itch you can’t reach so you can finally get him out of your head. Neither of you are patient as he jerks his sweatpants down just enough for his cock to pop out. 

It’s already leaking from the tip like a faucet. You kneel, straddling his waist again. You don’t have to do much to slick him up. You pump him a few times before he’s gripping your wrist and jerking your hand away. “Get up here,” he commands, voice rough as he grips your hips. You don’t even get a chance to protest before he’s flipping you over. 

He grabs your thighs and wraps them around his waist. Your ass is off the ground, hovering above his lap as he lines up with your slit. You moan when the tip rubs against your clit. “Whose teasing now?” You grit out, glaring at him. 

His lips curl up, that insufferable smirk on his face before he slams into you. The attitude is practically fucked out of you as he starts pumping in and out. You groan, raking your hands down his chest. He fucking moans at the pain, blood blooming under your nails and immediately closing the further down you go. 

Neither of you are giving up this fight, you don’t want to lose, not even while you’re fucking. He pulls out of you and flips you over so fast you don’t even have time to whine. He’s back in you before you can blink, hips slapping into you in a way that you know is going to leave bruises tomorrow. You’re not going to be able to sit for a week and he knows it. His hands are groping at the skin of your ass, pulling you apart and watching the skin ripple as he fucks into you. 

You’re not going to last long. You’ve been too desperate, too pent up while you’ve been pissed off at him. He leans over you, draping himself across you lazily. You groan at the added weight, it only adds to the sensation, only makes you want him deeper inside you. “Thought you didn’t want me anymore, sweetheart.” He whispers in your ear and you flutter around him as his hand snakes around your waist, rubbing tight circles on your clit. 

You open your mouth but all that comes out is disjointed moans. You know there’s something sarcastic in there, and he must know too because he laughs at your pathetic mumbled sentence. “I don’t know,” he leans back and watches as he makes room for himself inside you. “Seem to need me real bad now.”

Your nails dig into the mat, energy leaking through your fingertips and warming up the canvas beneath you. You can feel it fluctuating, fighting against the cuffs the closer he brings you to the edge. “Fuck you,” the words escape you at a particularly deep thrust and you struggle to keep your eyes open. 

He pauses and you nearly cry at the loss of movement. “Sorry, couldn’t hear you. What’d you say? Stop?”

You glare over your shoulder at him  “Don’t you fucking dare, Logan.” You let your power push up against his back, forcing his hips to move again. He chuckles at the move, fingers creating figure eights on your nub. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart,” he protests, voice innocent. “Ah, fuck,” his voice is nothing more than low grunts and groans in your ear the closer the both of you get to your release. You can’t speak anymore, can’t think. You can feel it cresting higher and higher inside you. 

Your abilities are rising with your release. They’re pushing against the cuffs, fighting desperately against the control the foreign metal has on your powers. You can feel it, heat building up under your skin, like a tingling on the tip of your tongue that you just can’t reach. It’s Logan’s release that finally tips you over the edge. 

The way his breath catches and his hips stutter in their perfect rhythm as warmth floods you from the inside out. You can feel it, him, dribbling down your thighs and staining the mat beneath you. It has you clenching around him, pushing your hips back weakly while you let the feeling overwhelm you. You nearly black out. Two weeks without him hadn’t felt long until you remembered what you were missing. 

You lose your sense of time, dropping to the mat like your bones have gone liquid, dripping out of you. You can feel Logan draped over you still, his weight a comforting blanket that nearly has you drifting to sleep. Naked, in the middle of the boxing ring. He pulls out of you and you whimper at the loss. 

He shushes you, rubbing a hand up your spine and pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your temple. He wraps his arms around you, laying down and pulling you back into his chest. It takes a few minutes of quiet cuddling for you to remember what exactly led you down to the gym in the first place. 

You feel disgusted with yourself for giving in to him so easily. It’s clear what his plan had been. And you’d fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. You’d barely even fought against him. Of course, you could reason that you needed to get the tension out. This was the perfect way to funnel out your built-up energy. 

But you’re disgusted with yourself for giving in to him so easily. You just disregarded dignity and self-respect for a chance to get him between your legs. You were such a fucking idiot. No wonder this is all he wanted you for. 

“Shit,” you mutter, trying to pull yourself out of his grip. Your eyes widen as his arms tighten around your waist. He tugs you back down until he’s got you in what essentially feels like a headlock. He could easily pass it off as spooning, but it feels a little more demanding than that. “Logan,” you warn, the silent peace of the moment officially shattered. 

“Don’t,” he gripes. You can fight against him for as long as you want, but you’ll only tire yourself out. His arms are literally metal bands around you. “Let me talk and then you can run off.” You huff and wait, but he never speaks. Finally, you look over your shoulder and glare at him. “Well?”

You roll your eyes, “Fuck’s sake,” you mutter. “Alright, speak.”

You can feel his grin against the back of your head. If he didn’t have you in such a tight grip, you’d elbow him in the gut just to be petty. “I made a mistake,” you scoff and he keeps going. Stopping you from interrupting him with something bitchy. “You weren’t just something convenient to me, sweetheart.” he pauses and chuckles, “You’re a huge fucking pain in my ass.”

“Is this your idea of an apology?” You snap, “Because this is pathetic.” 

He doesn’t say anything and you’re tempted to snark at him again. But then the world is flipped on its side as he jerks you around and forces you to face him. Your chests rub together, the sweaty skin sticking together and bordering on uncomfortable. “You ever shut up?” He asks, but there’s no heat to the words. If anything he looks fond of you, and it makes you shift around, trying not to look him in the eye. But there’s nowhere for you to hide, you’re both naked and bare before each other. 

You’re as physically vulnerable as he must feel emotionally. And as much as this is a horrible way to display how he’s feeling, you’re starting to understand him a little better. You know why this conversation is so hard for him, why he can’t accept that someone truly loves him and he loves her back. 

But that’s not going to get him out of it. He’s still yet to say the words. Maybe if he manned up and said something real you’d consider forgiving him. You give him an expectant look and he sighs, forehead pressed against yours as he slumps over you. You want to pretend you’re annoyed at the contact, but you’ve been craving it since you ran away two weeks ago.

You’ve been desperate for this warmth that only he can provide you. Without realizing it, you nuzzle further into his chest, hands drifting up to wrap around his bare waist. Logan feels the tightness in him ease slightly at the way you curl into him. He’s got a shot, even if you try and tell him he doesn’t.  

It’s silent for a while, while you linger in the emotions of what just happened and he tries to find the right words. He leans down, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and smiling against the shell of your ear. “I love you,” he whispers. 

You’d told yourself you’d only consider forgiving him if he said those words. But that’s only because you’d never thought he would actually say it. You didn’t think he was capable of admitting that to himself. It seems so out of character for him. But, maybe, you don’t know him as well as you thought you did. 

He pulls back, hand landing on your jaw and gently guiding your head out of his neck. He gives you an expectant look but you’re finding it hard to meet his eyes. You’ve been waiting for him to say that, but now it feels like you can’t. You’re still struggling to forgive him. He put you through so much unnecessary hurt just because he couldn’t face his own feelings. 

And now you’re struggling to do the same. “I want to say it back,” you tell him. “But how am I supposed to trust that the next time things get hard, you won’t lash out again?”

He frowns, an irritated huff of breath shooting out his nose. But you know it’s frustration towards himself. For letting you both get to this point because he couldn’t just say three words. “I’ll wait,” he promises. “For as long as it takes, I’ll wait.” 

You smile and nod, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in his neck. You’re sure you’ll be saying it sooner rather than later. But what’s the harm in making him squirm a little? He deserves it. 

A/N: I don’t write smut, it’s literally in my rules. I think I stared at a gif of him for too long and some horny ass demon possessed me and made me write this. Forgive me, universe, I’m no better than a man.

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[olailamajnoon]

Bruce pulled off his sweaty shirt in Ma Kent's kitchen along with Clark and Hal, and began chugging a lemonade. The three men had been doing something that apparently constituted hard manual labor in the barn. Zatanna watched silently, then she noticed it.

A tattoo on Bruce's abs. Some foreign symbols engraved in calligraphic form.

It was possible the world was coming to an end.

She turned her head to try and read it. It was Kryptonian, if she had to take a guess.

Bruce noticed where her gaze was. "My eyes are up here," he said.

"I know," said Zatanna, rolling hers. "I just...since when do you have a tattoo?"

"Since I lost a bet to my kids," said Bruce.

"You let your kids do this to you?" Zatanna was incredulous.

"It's been five years, Zee," said Clark. "Are you seriously noticing it now?"

"Well, I don't make a habit of staring at Bruce's nude form," she replied, her sentence heavy with implication.

Clark blushed and dropped his spectacles.

"What's next," said Zatanna bitterly to Bruce. "I find out you're part of a biker gang?"

"You don't become a biker with just one tattoo," said Hal. "You need an entire sleeve of them."

"Don't give him any ideas," Zatanna cautioned.

"You're overreacting," said Clark.

"The world is in a delicate state of balance," said Zatanna. "The very foundations of my existence are being rocked. I'm questioning everything I've ever known."

"I should probably start paying rent for all the space I occupy in your head," said Bruce.

"The tattoo is actually a very sweet phrase," said Clark. "In Kryptonian."

"What does it mean?"

Bruce cleared his throat and shook his head warningly at Clark. Clark grinned.

"It means," Clark said, "My soul is in two halves, and one of them belongs to you."

Bruce buried his head in his hands. Clark laughed. "Like I said. A very sweet phrase."

"You're going to suffer for this," muttered Bruce to him. "I was okay with it, as long as no one knew what it fucking meant."

"Oh stop," said Hal, grinning without shame. "Stop with the toxic masculinity. Just because you have a soppy declaration of love on your abdomen doesn't make you any less of a man." He raised his glass to Bruce in a toast.

Bruce looked at him levelly, and narrowed his eyes. "One of these days, Jordan," he growled, "you will do something, and on that day—"

"Oh, I doubt it," Hal smirked. "I think you've set the bar pretty high."

"Well," said Clark, with a cheeky grin, "Bruce learned his lesson about betting against all of his kids simultaneously, but I would say the punishment was a bit disproportionate to the crime."

Bruce was putting on his t-shirt. "Enough," he said. "No one else finds out, or I will see that you all pay."

"No one else finds out what?" asked Diana from the kitchen door, where she had evidently just arrived. Her arms were crossed against her chest. Barry and Oliver were lined up behind her, with curious expressions.

Zatanna and Hal laughed maliciously. Clark did not look displeased in the slightest.

Bruce's mouth hardened and he stalked off, muttering something about contingency plans. But no one saw the small smile that tucked itself into the corner of his mouth afterwards, when he remembered Clark's face.

Kryptonians. His fingers brushed over the tattoo. And all the ways they love to claim you.

[honeyyyblue]

✧ it's hard to spend time together when satoru is barely ever home, always away with some mission, due to his reputation as 'the strongest'.

that's why he spends the time he does get buried deep inside you because he knows how rare moments like these are.

moments like right now.

he's fucking you from behind, your tear-streaked face pressed against the mattress as he pounds into you. your molten walls clench around his girthy length and he groans at the feeling.

'that's it, good girl. fuck, you're taking it so well, precious.'

''toru, ngh-,' you're so fucked out you can't even form actual words.

'what's that, sweetheart?'

you manage to mumble something along the lines of 'so full, need more, 'toru'.

satoru's cock hurts at how desperate you sound.

'look at you,' he coos 'always begging for my cock.' you whine into the mattress when he punctuates his sentence with an exceptionally harder and deeper thrust.

'you used to be my sweet angel, so innocent and pure,' he hisses when you clench around him, harder this time 'since when did you become such a cockhungry little slut?'

your cheeks flame crimson. you're embarrassed because, well, he's right. every moment he's away has you thinking about him. his cock, his hands until your own hands creep down your body to in between your legs until you have yourself whimpering his name out to nothing.

you were down bad. and it's not any different for satoru.

'don't worry, baby. if you want cock so bad, i'll give it to you. i'll give you anything- everything.'

he hooks his arm around your waist and pulls you up, your back flush against his broad chest. the new position makes him shift inside you and the feeling has you sobbing.

''toru, please.'

'please what? use your words, baby,' the grin on his face is huge as he watches you try form coherent sentences. his other hand wraps around your throat, pressing just hard enough to weaken the airflow to your head.

''toru, i'm gonna cum,' your head is spinning and you're pawing at the hand at your throat.

'aw, does my baby want to come?' he purrs in your ear.

'yes,' you manage to breathe out.

'then, beg.'

cocky little shit.

'pleasee, 'toru,' you whine, helplessly 'please, please, please. i've been a good girl. just please let me.'

he leans in to press a kiss against your shoulder his snowy hair tickling your skin. 'go ahead,' he whispers against your neck 'come for me, love.'

and god, oh, yes, you do.

your orgasm has you seeing stars, your vision going a little blurry at the white hot pleasure.

the sensation of your walls spasming around his length sends him over the edge, a few more thrusts and you feel him empty inside, his thick release painting your walls white. his hold on your throat loosens and you catch your breaths together as you come down from your high.

he pulls out of you and gently lays you down on the bed, joining you momentarily. you've lost all feeling in your legs and there's a dull ache between them. you slowly turn towards satoru to find him smiling drowsily at you, bright blue eyes hooded from exhaustion. you smile back at him, too tired to formulate a thought. he pulls you toward him and nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck.

'i love you, sweetheart' was the last thing you heard before you drifted off to sleep.

please do not steal, modify, or translate my work.

[thewitchblue]

"Did you join the fucking military?"

Jason asked Tim, who blinked blankly at Jason until he noticed what he was holding. Jason was holding your military tags, which Tim's selfishly kept to himself when you "lost" them. Technically, he stole the tags from you, but you can always get a new set. You'll be matching! He did feel a little bad that you got in trouble with leadership when you asked for new ones, but he's sure you'd be fine without the old pair.

"No."

Tim didn't elaborate further. The tags have practically lived on him since he stole them. He only ever takes them off for showers, which is how Jason found them. Jason scoffed,

"Good. You'd be a shit soldier. Why do you have military dog tags?"

Tim tried to take them back, but Jason held them above his head. Your dog tags are air jailed until he gets answers. Jason needed to know.

"Answer or I'll find a place to smelt them down."

Tim knew he was serious by the gleam in Jason's eyes, so he said,

"My girlfriend is in a special forces unit for the marines. She refuses to tell me which unit she's in, but I've narrowed it down."

Jason was too stunned to notice that he dropped your dog tags. Tim snatched them off the floor and put them safely around his neck again and tucked under his shirt where they belonged. He likes to say that you're closer to his heart with your tags under his shirt with the bonus of protecting him from any potential bullets. Even when you are gone, you promise that you will always come back. He's used to your deployment and the limbo you have him in.

"When do I get to meet her?"

Dick said from the doorway. He was passing by and overheard. His little Timmy has a girlfriend? When did that happen?

Tim touches the tags while thinking of what to reveal and what to keep private. He's never been good at respecting privacy, but he has been learning for you. He knows to keep anything you say to him a secret, but what about other things relating to you?

"Whenever she wants. I'm not her keeper."

Tim answered vaguely. He's flying to see you soon, and he doesn't want to be followed. You've been together for three years, but you met kind of awkwardly. You tackled him to the ground and wrestled with him after mistaking him for one of your friends.

Your willpower eventually overcame his reflexes, and he stopped struggling. You had laughed when you pinned him down and ruffled his hair in victory. It was embarrassing to him how quickly he submitted to you. He watched your eyes widen when you noticed he's not your friend. You took in the scene too slowly. You, straddling who you had assumed was your friend with your hands pinning his wrists to both sides of his head, and Tim blushing underneath you. Tim didn't know how to react either, so you both stared at each other before you started awkwardly apologising.

Tim was a mess, but he was an adorable mess. His hair was ruffled, and his clothes were wrinkled, but there were no bruises nor any scrapes. You were always careful to leave no injuries. He was breathless, just staring at you with wide eyes and a shyness that almost made you smile. He was so cute that you wanted to squish him.

You quickly got off of him once you realised how long you've been staring at him. You pulled him up from the ground when he didn't make a move to stand by himself and actually almost fell right back to the ground because his legs refused to work for him. He was understandly stunned.

This is awkward. How do you explain the tradition of you fighting your friend on sight? Your friend does the exact same thing with you. It was excellent training for your deployment to fight each other on sight without any prep. Enemy soldiers aren't going to reveal themselves before attacking, so surprise attacks help keep your reflexes sharp.

"Sorry. I thought you were someone else."

He couldn't get the image of you pinning him down out of his head. Nobody has ever pinned him down so intimately. You were gentle. Your hold would have been easy to break out of if he didn't stop struggling. It was like you only played until one of you got pinned, and then the fight was over.

Tim was still trying to remember how to function. What does he do? What does he say? He's all shaken up. He had to look away from you. He managed to say,

"It's fine."

He tried to sound like it was no big deal, but it sounded strained. He was pretending like the wrestling really took it out of him by fake panting, but you both knew better. You narrowed your eyes suspiciously, but pat his back and attempted to leave.

Attempted, being the key word. Tim caught your wrist loosely and nervously said,

"I, uh... would you... Can we... Let's... I'm sorry."

He didn't have the words with you looking at him like that. He was nervous. You smiled softly at him, and he forgot how to speak entirely. He could only stare until you took the initiative and asked him to go on a date before you leave for boot camp. He nodded, and that was that. You gave him your number and continued your run like nothing happened.

The date went amazing. It was a bit unconventional as you took him to a paint gun fight after showing him the gun and explaining the rules. You grinned every time he landed a hit and even wiped away the paint that splattered onto him with a fond expression. You opened up about the fear you have about joining the military, but your desire to help. You want to make a difference, however small or large that may be.

You kissed the bruising wounds softly and banaged the bleeding ones before he could even reach for the first aid kit you brought. You helped him up with a wild grin, and he kissed you until the adrenaline ran out. The guns were empty, and you both were messes, but your hearts were full, and Tim can safely say he hates paintballing. You took him to see a movie like a normal person next date.

Jason and Dick watched their brother soften further and further as he went down memory lane. Dick was ecstatic and already plotting to meet you, but Jason was confused why anybody would date Tim. Yeah, he's had his fair share of partners, but he's surprised every time he gets a date, let alone a girlfriend.

You were his mystery girl, and their family loves a good mystery.

[tadc-harlequin-au]

New Puppet Unlocked: Pomni, the Last Harlequin!

Pomni's character description:

"Pomni" is the most recent, and last model of the Combat Harlequin series; P-1210. A Harlequin puppet who doesn't have a sense of purpose due to a broken string of commands, and thus, acts loosely based on what remains of it.

After hunting down The Puppetmaster and a duel ensues between the two, it ends with the Harlequin and The Puppetmaster forming an alliance in order to fix the destroyed City; or at least, the remaining "residents" that have succumbed to Madness. The Puppetmaster now has an ally to help him in his mission, and she gets a purpose that relates to her commands. What more could one want?

Now, Pomni spends her time sparring, sharpening her sword, bantering with the Puppetmaster, hunting down bosses and eliminating manic Marionettes. The list becomes bigger as the story progresses, and Pomni unlocks more and more secrets about herself.

Fun facts about Pomni:

She likes sandwiches. Specifically, salmon.

She REALLY hates it when someone eats it. (It's Bubble)

She finds some things annoying in other Puppets, and will be blunt about it.

But that doesn't mean she doesn't care. In fact, far from it.

Pomni may come off as cold and jerkish due to her hot-temper, but in reality, her emotions simply have ahold on her more than anyone would ever really think.

Caine thinks that a therapist would benefit her. (honestly though)

She hasn't explored any hobbies outside from anything involving combat. (yet.)

Pomni occasionally gets glimpses of visions when she dies; she is unaware of what they mean.

Pomni rarely gets drunk; she'll only indulge in alcohol when there's an occasion. Aside from that, she tends to limit Caine's alcohol intake (reasoning that he smells like booze), much to the Puppetmaster's dismay.

She shuts down any form of philosophical advices, thinking they're "typical" and "unnecessary".

She tends to be careless and rude in battle.

When push comes to shove, Pomni can and WILL use her sharp teeth to her advantage.

Pomni initially disliked Ragatha. She found the doll's positive demeanor eerie, and even uncanny, borderline inhuman. Thankfully, a few interactions and heart-heart conversations later, she's changed her mind since.

Bubble usually accompanies her when she's out on missions, a condition she had to agree on just so Caine would let her fight overburdened Puppets. Even though she hates the blimp's nonsense, she knows that his presence is out of necessity, since Bubble is the only way keeping in touch can be possible.

She initially started off rarely ever apologizing. In fact, Caine would've been lucky to have a simple acknowledgement from her.

She once stole Caine's cane to try and figure out how his attacks work. She immediately lost interest once she found out it's just a plain, and boring metal cane.

She unlocks the first stage of enlightenment after the fifth boss.

Quotes:

"Yeah, yeah, shut up."

"I didn't come here just for you to act like a wuss!"

"You. Me. This sword. In your head."

"That was pretty stupid of you to do."

"Between you and me, I prefer still having my head on my shoulders."

"This is getting annoying!"

"I've had it with you idiots!"

"I'm gonna celebrate with a Puppet head kebab once I'm done."

"I like the sounds of a sword slashing, and heads bashed in."

"Keep (talking/screaming), and I'll crack your skull open."

"Ah! What the fuck!"

"You're gonna pay for that!"

"Eye for an eye, motherfucker!"

"I normally wouldn't mind... Actually, I always mind."

"When I'm done, you're gonna be unrecognizable."

"Fucking marionettes!"

"Useless scrap!"

"I really, really, REALLY wanna hurt you right about now."

"Ohohoho, you're picking the WRONG fight, BUDDY."

"Asshat!"

"Who do you think you are!?"

"Are you sure this is even safe?"

"DO THAT AGAIN AND I SWEAR I'LL KICK YOUR ASS ALL ACROSS THIS DAMNED CITY"

"HA! IN YOUR STUPID LITTLE BLIMP FACE!"

“You can’t be serious. Me? Tone it down? I’m a Puppet DESIGNED to fight. My entire purpose IS to fight. I don’t tone down anything, for anyone. Don’t forget, we might be familiar with each other now, but we’re still only getting along because you’re giving me targets.”

[jellykyunnie]

Maybe a yandere jinwoo with a reader whos self sacrificial? It would test his self restraint... (~I like to see him unhiged~)

˗ˏˋ Entry : 063 - Sung Jinwoo x Self-sacrificial! Fem! Reader ◛⑅·˚ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

[ TW: Self-sacrificing, Death, Pure Violence, Gore, Violent Jinwoo Depiction, Fluff Ending guaranteed so dont come at me with pitchforks. ]

╰┈➤ ❝ [ My Heart Is Nowhere ] ¡! ❞

Again.

You died.

Again.

Jinwoo wordlessly cradles your lifeless body in his arms. There wasn't any other sound aside from the backdrop of crackling fire and buildings collapsing.

His colleagues tremble as they inch closer, sensing the silent doom loom over them.

Sung Jinwoo had always been dangerous. As kind and as polite as he presented himself to the public and them— He was always a dangerous man.

No one can ever determine where his limit lies, he fears no international hunter and looks at the current rank#1 hunter like he's just a small child he flashes a bored smile at.

Those who witness how destructive he is in the gates can only describe the bloodshed he makes as something a warlord can do, or something that the most macabre authors can poetically write that their works would be thrown into the list of banned books.

But anyone with a curious mind can't help but wonder,...

What happens once Sung Jinwoo, the man who controls an army of undead husks— Turns his back against humanity?

What if he decides to forsake his duty towards the people who need him and unleash his wrath towards them instead?

"Hunter Sung... My condolences" Jong-in lowers his head, his throat growing dry as he cannot bring himself to lift up his head and meet the gaze of the man who has just lost someone dear to him even if he didn't know what exactly the relationship between Jinwoo and the body he was holding delicately.

"Three S-rankers, 15 A-rankers, 56 B-rankers and over 100 C rankers, I've only been gone to deal with the other monarchs" Jinwoo starts, his gaze still focused on the person in his arms. "And none of you, none of you, could stop a single woman from giving up her life force in order to completely close off a gate that wont close no matter how many times you had entered inside."

"Her sacrifice was not in vain—" Yoonho tries to say, his words immediately interrupted as Jinwoo was suddenly in front of his face with maddened lilac orbs.

Jinwoo tilts his head, an eerie angle as a vein pops up on his jaw, "She's an E-ranker."

"An E-ranker with a mana level of 5, she is closer to a civilian than a hunter. So unless you have something better to say, keep your fucking mouth shut before I rip your goddamn head off."

Silence befalls the entire place as the temperature felt so chillingly cold despite the ember flames dancing around.

As Jinwoo's back disappears into the distance with his beloved's cold lifeless body.

꒰ .... ꒱

"Dear!' Kyung-hye panics, running down the hospital hallway where he heard his son was in.

Her heart had been racing since earlier since she had heard the death of an E-ranker extremely close to Jinwoo. And now that she could see the blank and lifeless look on his oldest child— She felt a pit in her stomach drop at the sight of him.

The grey eyes he had inherited from her are completely hollow and are now completely pitch black. Jinwoo was in a complete daze as his mother held his shoulder with trembling hands with tears running along her cheeks.

"Oppa..." Jinah could only sob as she hugged Jinwoo who wasn't reacting at all.

It felt as if the life have been completely drained from him.

He wasn't crying.

He wasn't talking.

He wasn't even moving at all even as his family cradles him.

Sung Il-hwan could see it, the pure devastation and helplessness on his son who had always looked as if he could take down anything.

He can only see an empty man completely hollow inside. It was as if Jinwoo's body only houses shadows.

The old man can only purse his lips as he joins his wife and daughter in holding Jinwoo who didn't even bother returning their embrace.

꒰ .... ꒱

He stares at the gravestone in front of him, staring blankly as the rain pitter-patters down his face to simulate tears since he wouldn't cry. It had been seven hours now since you had been buried down the earth to rest your weary soul.

Jinwoo had seen this a total of 5 times already.

This very grey sight where the colours would become muddled and sickening to look at.

He wanted to cry, he wanted to scream and lash out, he wanted to beg it all to be some type of cruel joke. But it seems that his sobs had long been dried that the downpour gave him some fake tears.

The first time you had died of the same reason— The media treated your death like some sort of movie. Something they wanted to film, everyone wanted to suddenly know you.

When you were alive, you were always treated as a laughingstock for trying to still be a hunter despite your pathetic state. Jinwoo grew close with you just because he could sympathize with that struggle.

He knew what it's like to be the receiving end of all those mockery, to be looked at with condenscending gaze silently wishing you death— So how could he resist you?

Even when you were given the chance to be selfish and just worry about yourself; you never did.

You had always looked out for him despite it all. So Jinwoo never abandoned you even when he grew strong with the system.

He liked acting weak because he loved your attention, he would come to you with a bruise on his face even as an S-ranker just so you can tell him off. He didn't mind being smacked in the head, he didn't care that he will be treated like a 4 year old coming home with dirt all over him that his mom will yell at him hours on end— Sung Jinwoo only ever cared about you.

The you with dazzling eyes with stars gleaming inside of them whenver you're enthusiastic, the you who has a melodious voice no matter what emotion you're going through, the you who he has decided to revolve his world around.

So why is it, despite everything he did to prevent this very tragedy— That you still choose to sacrifice yourself for the world who given you nothing but disdain?

Why is it that you choose to walk the same path you take over five times now? Why would you choose the world over him who would give you the universe?

Jinwoo can never know.

He will never know.

Since despite looking like you would tell him anything— He can never completely understand what goes on in that pretty little head of yours.

꒰ .... ꒱

So for the following months, he silently dealt with anguish of your 5th sacrifice alone.

Jinwoo would go to work. Go home. Have a beer. Have a smoke. Sleep? Fuck that. Repeat.

Nothing matters anymore, he never managed to protect you, what's the point of eating anything or taking care of himself?

He had this slight delusion, that maybe if he hurts himself enough— Your ghost would suddenly haunt him and yell at him with that voice he is starting to forget from the constant state of disassociation he voluntarily put himself into.

"Ah, it's that lover boy" Hwang Dongsoo's familiar voice resounds, echoing in the massive hunter building Jinwoo walked into the discuss his next activities with the chairman Go Gunhee. "Sheesh, you look so fucking miserable"

The man laughs, patting Jinwoo's shoulder as if they had been longtime pals since childhood.

"Mr. Hwang, please have respect" Jinchul scolds, holding the man's arm to pry off Jinwoo who hasn't uttered a single word despite the blatant mockery.

"Now, now, I'm just greeting a fellow s-ranker who is grieving, is that inappropriate?" Dongsoo smiles, playing coy as he felt the utter thrill of messing around just a bit more.

"You have no right to talk like that towards anyone, colleague or not" Jinchul insisted, putting himself between the enstranged Dongsoo who left for america and Jinwoo who is clearly still out of it despite the months having passed by since that faithful day.

"What? It aint my fault that bitch is dead." Dongsoo simply laughs, waving his hand dismissively. "If she's so special why didn't he—"

Jinchul couldn't even react.

All of the sudden the room was casted in a mist of shadows with the temperature going down at dangerous state, the air is heavy with this thick suffocating malice that the A-ranker was brough to his knees for the sheer pressure of it all.

And in the middle of the brewing storm of darkness— Was Sung Jinwoo repeatedly pummeling Hwang Dongsoo's face—

OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER. OVER AND OVER.

"Mr Sung, I beg you please come to your senses youn man!" Go Gunhee screams, his face completely pale as the pristine white marbles of the hunter association's floors are painted in a deep haunting color of crimson red.

His pleading seemed to be had been succesful as Jinwoo removes his fist from Hwang Dongsoo's face...

What face?

There's nothing there.

Nothing but brain matter remaining as well as bone fragments floating atop the red liquid like tranquil leaves resting on still water.

"S-sung Jinwoo... You" Thomas Andre nearly gags at the sight, his eyes flashing golden but the fire in them suddenly distinguishing as Jinwoo simply stares down at him with that blank and hollow look.

That man always had an odd purple light in his eyes.

But those eyes are only black underneath those ebony locks that had slightly overgrown from Jinwoo not properly tending to himself as of late.

That gaze was a wordless taunt: "Come at me, I dare you, and I'll reunite you with this rotten bastard right here."

Jinwoo wasn't even shaken, he had blatantly commited murder inside a hunter establisment riddled with cctvs and witnesses.

But he didn't even care.

None of the security would dare come near at the sight of his blood-splattered appearance.

They all, perhaps in a way, knew—

That for a man who had already lost everything, nothing can and will ever hold him back.

No amount of rationale, remorse, or anything human can remotely leave a budge on someone who has completely decided to become a monster.

꒰ .... ꒱

No matter how many gates he had been through, no matter how much his army would plead— Jinwoo would become totally numb as he further rises in the system.

Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.

That sickening toiling of the system notification as he took one life and another back to back like a rabid dog comes to a point Jinwoo owuld rather rip his ears off.

As he holds the head of another high orc, he hears a deep booming voice behind him, "Child, stop this instant."

"Why should I?" Jinwoo asked, turning back to see Ashborn taking in his form.

"I chose you as my heir to stop the monarchs, not to become a senseless murder machine" Ashborn scolds, gripping Jinwoo's bloodied arm who only shakes his gesture off.

"Take it back then if you're so upset" He merely chuckles, sitting down on the corpse of a monster he had just lay to rest. "I've got nothing to lose."

"Emotions are what leads to one's destructions."

"My emotions are also the reason why you chose me to succeed you."

"...."

He couldn't argue with that.

The former shadow monarch had nothing to say.

It was Jinwoo's sheer willpower and stubbornness to keep living was one of the core reasons why he chose him as his succesor. Nobody has the same steadfast and headstrong personality as this very man who is now reduced to a broken and grieving child who only yearns for his family.

"What was it?" Jinwoo asks, "With great power comes great responsibility? Yeah, bullshit."

He grips the sides of his head, drowning to drown out all the sounds as tears started streaking down his tired eyes who had completely lost faith in anything and everything.

"Save your sympathy," He chokes out, "Or do monsters like you even feel anything? I haven't slept in a year. That person is the only reason why I ever maintained some sort of humanity even as the system explicitly made sure I will lose all of my emotions, but that single person spared me from ever succumbing into pure madness. I can't remember her voice, I can't remember her face, I can't remember what she smells like."

"So what can I lose?"

He was always the strongest in everyone's eyes. Everyone relied on him for everything especially after he became a high ranked hunter that also took the role of the face of korea. He was put on a pedestal he never wanted to have.

Jinwoo only wanted to take care of his little sister and parents. He only ever wished to be good enough to make them happy and make sure they live good and healthy lives.

So why couldn't he be selfish for even just once?

Why isn't he allowed to to indulge himself after giving up everything for the world?

Why can't he keep you?

The precious and foolish you he loved more than anything than life itself.

Even for just one little request— that he could keep you, but even with that small wish of his— he was denied of it.

He was denied happiness and love.

He was denied of even the simplest of request.

So if he cant have the tiniest of wishes, what hope would he have?

He could do nothing more than weep.

He then feels Ashborn's hand on his head, the digits stroking his strands gently.

"You've done enough, my child."

꒰ .... ꒱

That was the last thing Jinwoo had heard before he woke up in his bed again. Somehow, the late monarch managed to put him to sleep. When he looked in the mirror, his body was built the same before he had the system.

Memories would come pouring in as he looks back at the pathetic him he detested so much.

It seems that in this world there is no existence of gates or any monarch. It's a reality spared from that gruesome world he had hailed from.

Most of his memories are, however, extremely broken. His body clearly remembers things well, but somehow a lot of it are fragmented.

At least it's clear that in this reality he goes to a university studying to become a police. By miracle, he is accepted into his course despite the sorry state of his appearance.

He was cordial and polite with his parents and sister, but he had no appetite so he chose to go to school earlier than usual. Jinwoo just couldn't face them knowing how much he brought them pain and how much of a monster he truly is.

He never went to university in the past, he couldn't because he was immediately went to work due to his mother collapsing and he just never did so in any of his regression.

"...."

"...Woo.."

"Sung Jinwoo!"

He jumps at the silent calling of his name and turned to see,...

You.

"Hey, mister-emo-looking-first-thing-in-the-morning" You grin in a friendly manner, looking up at him with that familiar shine in your eyes.

He looks at you as if he saw a ghost, his hand stretching out and nearly touching your cheek but didn't when his palm almost caressed your delicate skin.

"???"

"You..." He whispers, his voice hoarse and almost broken. "You're okay."

"I'm not gonna die over a hay fever—...." You pause, eyebrows knitting as his blank eyes suddenly tear up. "H-hey, why are you crying? Did you have a nightmare again?"

"You fool." Jinwoo merely replies, suddenly pulling you into an embrace he had oh-so craved. "You absolute fool."

His fingers tangle in your hair, his lips subtly kissing the side of your head as he held you even closer to him. The pressure of his hold nearly choking out the air in you.

You wanted to comfort but at the same time you wanted to curse him out for wherever the hell his strenght originates from with the pathetic build he has!

"Jinwoo!" You manage to wriggle out of his hold and then cup his face.

He kept crying.

Like some sort of child that has been denied something that he cannot communicate his anguish. Jinwoo just kept crying his eyeballs out.

So, you can only soothe him. Whispering comfort to him as your foreheads pressed together so he could feel better.

You stare up at the grey eyes he has. The grey eyes that are dazzling and always filled with kindness.

In front of you, it's just Sung Jinwoo.

He doesn't have any other identity in front of you.

He's just Sung Jinwoo.

So how can he not be a fool who is so inlove with you?

꒰ 🪼 A/N: Should I make a sequel to this? I vibed too hard on fatal trouble hahah. I figured I should give something more meaningful not just another fluffy fic www. So how is it? I hope everyone likes this one heheh,,,, Took me a short while on this one skskskskk. ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[bluem1lls]

hey *leans against table and winks or smth* can i request se-mi x reader on where they’re roommates but fucking HATE each other but se-mi has a onlyfans account (because she’s a freakazoid👅👅) and reader finds out so like when reader confronts her about it or smth se-mi somehow magically gets reader to join her and they become scissor sisters (also se-mi with a strap i DONT fear..) and become lovers..?? sorry if this is to much or shitty

✧₊⁺ show me who you are

se-mi x fem! reader

✦ synopsis: having a roommate you hate is annoying. and it becomes even more annoying when she gets all your good angles in the porn video you both filmed. tw: minors dni, smut w plot, and they were roommates!, fingering/oral (r!receiving), scissoring, sub!reader, dom!se-mi, degradation (a little?), choking, a bit of slapping authors note: hi! for the girl who also requested enemies to lovers IM SORRY i lost ur request but here it is! tysm for reading and the requests, i hope u like it!

"this is important!" thanos said, making me sit down besides nam-gyu in our living room as i stared at my other best friend from the corner of my eyes. nam-gyu shrugged as i sighed.

"yes?"

"we're in debt with the landlord"

"we knew that" nam-gyu said as i nodded and thanos rolled his eyes.

"no like.. we actually need to pay him back a shit ton. but he said we could do it per month. the thing is none of us has any more money, so here's my idea.. a new roommate!"

"cool" nam-gyu said.

"no way" i said at the same time.

"listen to me" thanos grabbed my shoulders. "i hate the idea too, but we're poor. my room can be her room and i'll share with nam-gyu"

i stared at both of them as nam-gyu turned to him. "wait- like bed and-"

"no, not the bed dumb ass" thanos smacked him as the other one nodded. "so? are we getting a new roommate?" he repeated to both of us. i sighed and nodded. nam-gyu did too, making thanos smile. "great! because her name is se-mi and she's about to be here in 30 minutes"

my eyes widden. wait what?

"what-wait. oh my god. you knew we would say yes so you already took the interviews and picked a random person? are you fucking insane?" i stood up, hitting him as he winced.

"auch- i knew u two would say yes because we don't have another choice. plus min-su's best friend was looking for a place so i told her and she agreed. never thought that could lead to my death, jesus." he stared at me with a frown as he rubbed his arm.

"oh wait, the tall girl with the short hair? oh i like her, she's cool" i stared at nam gyu with my mouth open.

was i the only one who had no idea of who she was? i've been so busy with school that it was hard to keep a pace with the guys. we've been a group ever since i can remember. nam-gyu came after, at first it was just me, thanos and min-su, then it was just the four of us. we decided to live together once we were old enough and it has been that way since. min-su stayed out because he said we were 'a mess' and he didn't had to pay rent at his parent's house.

i heard the doorbell ring as thanos ran to the door, opening to reveal a tall girl with short brunette hair, piercings on her lip and nose.

oh, she's pretty.

"come in! so you know him, and this our best friend and third annoying roomate!" he said as i told her my name. she stared up and down, biting her lip in a nervous manner.

"se-mi" she introduced herself with a head nod.

i smiled at her as he showed her around. it was a normal apartment with a living, one bathroom, three rooms and a small balcony (usually used for the hangouts and to smoke).

as she looked at the place, nam-gyu left her stuff in her new room. once he came back, he wrapped his arms around me, giving me a light squeeze.

"hey, it'll be fun. plus you get along more with girls than boys, you'll love her. maybe she'll even be your new best friend."

"if you don't like it then MOVE OUT!" i shouted at her. my breath shaking with anger.

"well, guess what doll? i live here too! and if you don't like it, then go find a new place, but we both know you won't because your real issue is that you just love to complain. you're just a brat who cries when she doesn't get what she wants!" se-mi screamed back, standing up from the couch to face me.

"go fuck yourself!" i replied, grabbing the keys and my phone before slamming the apartment door.

i quickly texted my best friend to meet up at our usual coffee shop as i walked through the cold streets, trying to cool off. once i got there, i ordered the usual; ice coffee and chai tea latte for jun-hee.

i saw her sat in one of the booths. "i will kill her. i'm not joking" i said as sat down. she chuckled, this wasn't a new subject for her.

"you never gave her an actual chance th-"

"she doesn't need it! i don't need it! she's been a bitch to me ever since she came. everytime i wake up, when i hang out with the guys, she's always there! it's like she became part of the group!"

she stared at me with a sympathetic smile as she drank her chai tea.

"she is part of the group now, love. and i don't think that's changing, if the guys like her, you know they'll keep her around, mostly now that she lives there. so you can choose to fumble everytime you're around her or try to at least ignore her to be at peace" jun-hee said as i sighed. my hands rubbed my face as i groaned.

"i'll try. doesn't mean it'll go well" i said, still not uncovering my face as she gave me a soft chuckle.

"you'll do great!"

as i came back to the apartment, i could hear the moanings even from outside. i took a deep breath to cool down as i entered. of course the moans came from her room.

ever since she got here, she brings a different girl every fucking weekend. nam-gyu and thanos are staring with their mouths wide open when they open the door to find (once again) an another beautiful blonde standing there. they also stare disappointed when se-mi appears with a quick hi, kisses her and guides her to her room.

a long line of girls walk into that room and leave with messy hair, hickeys, messy clothes and a relaxed and very fucked out face.

"it's ridiculous, what is she, a pornstar?" i tell jun-hee as she lays in my bed while i pace in my room. she bites her lip to supress a smile.

"so... i have something to tell you. or show you."

i stared at her, sitting in bed to watch while she tapped on her phone, looking for something.

"so we have talked about this countless times since she moved in, right? so i searched a bit and.." she turned her phone, her only fans profile appeared as i gasped and covered my mouth.

"you have to be kidding me!" i stared wide eyed, taking the phone. "oh my god jun-hee did you fucking bought her content?" i open my mouth, staring at the doe eyed girl besides me.

"research purposes. take a look. oh wait, i'll send them to you"

as the photos and videos arrived to my phone, i went through each of them and oh my god. my face flushed crimson red as i stare at one particular photo. you could see from her bare chest to her crotch. she had a strap that hit her lower stomach with her hand wrapped around it, looking like she was stroking it like it was her cock. i licked my lips as my mouth felt dry and my head dizzy. jun-hee sent me 5 videos, se-mi fucking a blonde girl in all fours, another one scissoring, fucking in missionary, a pretty redhead riding her. she knew how to attract people to buy her shit, and she knew how to make the content.

"she's hot" my best friend said with a soft push on my direction, making me snap from my thoughs as i shrugged.

"doesn't make her any less annoying"

"can i buy-" he said, as i quickly cut him off.

"no."

"but you've seen it-" the other one said, as i, once again, cut them both off.

"no one is buying anything!" i rolled my eyes at both guys. "this is a secret i shared with my best friends. not with my lousy roommates, got it? if i hear that se-mi found out from either of you, both will be very much dead. like dick? cut off" i threated them as thanos stared down at his crotch with his eyes wide. they both nodded.

"man, i wish a had a girl" nam-gyu stared at a blank point.

i told them once again 'not a word' as i headed back into my room. i heard the door closing as the guys left. they mentioned in the morning they were going at min-su's, i told them i'd stop by later. i heard the door open again just as they left, probably se-mi.

as i looked for my charger in my room, i started to get annoyed. the three of them steal it all the fucking time. i leave my room to bash into nam-gyu's and thanos room, taking a quick look in the dark. no signs of the charger.

as i close the door, i see se-mi staring at me with a smirk on her face. her arms crossed on her chest with an amused expression.

"did you take my charger?" i asked as she hummed.

"maybe" she replied as i let out a groan of exasperation.

"se-mi."

she let out a snort as she went into her room, quickly coming back to throw the charger at me, as i pressed my lips to not curse her. outloud.

"it would be my pleasure if you stopped grabbing my stuff without my permission"

"mine doesn't charge as fast" she replied, the amusement on her face never leaving as i rolled my eyes.

"one would guess that with all the money you make with your only fans you could afford a new charger" i mumbled under my breath as i turned around. i felt her hands quickly grip my arm tight as i winced. "auch-"

"what the fuck did you said?" the smirk on her lips faded as she stared intensely at me.

well that was a mistake. but i can't back up now, can i?

"i said" my tongue did a quick 'tsk' as i stared into her eyes, her gaze felt intense and cold. "one would think that with the money you make at only fans you could buy a fast charger, but i guess it isn't going as good as i guessed?"

i could feel my back pressed against the wall, making me let out a small wince. she pinned me, her head slightly down to fixate her gaze on me. i could see her annoyed expression.

"and how would you know that?" she spit. her eyes never leaving mine.

"it's not that hard. a little research and all i can see is why so many girls come in and out every weekend. your videos are boring, by the way."

her angry expression turned into a... confused one? an amused one? a scoff escaped her lips as they curved into a small smirk.

"oh. so you watched them?"

fuck. fucking jun-hee for the details. and fucking jun-hee for that strap photo that's all that's been going through my mind the last few days.

"w-what? no, no" i said as she slowly pressed her body against mine. one of arms left to wall to grip my waist, holding me tightly against her. our eyes never stopped meeting in the silence of the living room.

"you've watched them. you're noisy and you know too much not to. and i bet you enjoyed every single one of them" she replied in a low voice. her eyes roamed over my face, searching for a hint of a lie, but all she could find was the embarrasement in my eyes, making her let out an amused scoff. her fingers softly began to trace circles on my waist as a shiver ran through my spine. "bet you even got wet watching them"

i bit my lip in response. not getting out of my head the amount of times i squeezed my tighs when i saw the videos and photos. the heat that pooled in my panties everytime i saw her thrusts inside of one of her girls. the way she'd make them suck her strap as if it was her real cock, the grip she hold in their hair made me even wetter, but when my hand lowered to take care of my ache, i had stop myself, reminding me how this was just my insufferable roommate.

"were you just mad because you wanted to be one of my girls, doll?" her finger tilted my chin up to stare at her. the room felt heavy with tension as her other hand held me in place. a blush placed on my cheeks, making me feel ashamed because i knew she was right. i did wanted to be one of them. the silence was the answer she needed. she bit her lip piercing as she couldn't help the smirk that escaped.

i felt her hands dip underneath my top as i let out a shaky breath, i could feel my heart stammering on my chest, my legs felt like they could no longer hold me, the only thing keeping me standing was her firm grip. she closed the distance between our bodies, as her lips gently caressed mines without kissing me.

"i bet you're such a whore, you'd even love if i filmed you, hm?"

my cunt aching as i heard her words. i could feel my thong getting pooled with arousal. the proximity between us only made my heart beat faster as i softly nodded, her gaze never leaving mine as her eyes darkened with desire.

she took a step back, grabbing my hand as she pulled us both into her room and closed the door. i could see her blue duvet that i recognized from the videos. she even had led lights to make the entire room feel more like a porn video with high quality.

i didn't even got to process the other furniture as she pushed me against the door, her grip once again holding my waist.

"you really know how to push my buttons." she said leaving wet kisses on my neck as i leaned my head, giving her acess to more space as she groaned. the feeling of her lips making me whine. "you're such an insufferable little brat"

"then do something about it" i replied, a smirk curving my lips as she licked hers.

she lets out a huff. "it really sucks when the most annoying person i know is the one that arouses me the most" she said, my eyes filled with surprise as she crashed her lips with mine in a harsh, desperate kiss.

i quickly melted to her, my arms wrapped around her neck, grabbing the nape of it. bringing her closer as one of her hands left my waist to slowly trail down to my ass, squeezing and giving it a harsh spank as i whimpered in between kisses.

she broke the kiss to speak. her voice husky. "you can't tell the guys about this. not a single word"

"i still hate you" a dry chuckle escaped se-mi's lips at my reply, kissing me again. i felt pure desire through my body as her hands roamed all over.

she moved me out of the door and pushed me to bed. an arrogant smirk tugged at her lips at the sight of me in her room. her gaze taking my entire body with a mix of lust and excitement. she took a few steps to set up the camera in the tripod. as her finger posed on the little 'on' button, she stared at me.

"are you sure you want to do this?"

"yeah. turn it on"

she bit her lip as her fingers pressed the 'on' button. my heart stammered from excitement as she placed herself between my legs, on top of me.

our lips finding eachother once again, her tongue entering my mouth while her hands wrapped around my throat, giving it a light squeeze to test as i moaned in response.

the kiss felt rough and raw. she could feel the vibration of my moan against her as her grip tightened. her body pressed against mine made me feel the heat radiate from her. our bodies molded together.

she slid her knee between my legs, the pressure against my core sent a wave of pleasure, making her break the kiss to press her lips on my neck as my hands went to her hair, tugging her closer.

"my needy girl" i nodded in response as she licked and bit my neck. "now be a good girl, stand up and take your clothes off" she ordered as i did what she said.

my wobbly legs trembled at her intense gaze on my body. i let my leggins hit the floor as i slowly pulled the shirt out of my head, her eyes tracing the curves of my body, making me shiver as i was only left on my bra and panties, i tried to move aside the feeling of being so exposed. as my hands moved to my back to remove my bra, she sat on the the edge of the bed. her arms sneaking around my waist, pulling me closer to her.

"maybe let's leave this pretty set on" she said, staring at my pink underwear as i nodded, feeling dizzy and flushed under her look.

my legs straddling her thighs as i sat on top of her. her hands moved to grab my ass, giving it a light squeeze as our lips found once again in a lustful kiss. she moved me around so i was laying underneath her. her kisses lowered to my neck, down to my chest. the trail going downwards to my cunt. as it reached, she left a soft open-mouthed kiss on my clothed clit. her fingers trailed a path from my thighs to my desperate cunt, who was begging her for attention.

she softly traced over my panties, one finger circling my clit as the wet patch on the lingerie spreaded. her fingers moved up and down my soaked center, pulling my thong aside.

"could you hold this for me, doll?" she said as i nodded, my eyes becoming watery as i bit my lip. i felt her hot breath against my bare cunt, making me shiver as she placed her hands on both of my thighs to spread me open and hold me in place.

her tongue went straight to my clit, giving it some short but pressured licks, making me throw my head back as my hand never left the hold on my panties.

she kept licking, making me moan and whimper from pleasure. my free hand grabbed one of my tits, giving it a light squeeze as i pinch my nipple.

i could feel her eyes on me. "what a slut. you're a natural" her words causing vibrations against my cunt, making me clench around nothing as i kept moaning louder.

i felt as she left the space between my legs to pick up the camera, handing it over to me as i looked at her dumbfounded.

"could you hold it for me, princess? so everyone gets a closer look at how good i eat this pussy"

her words making me whimper as i hold the camera with one hand and still hold my panties with the other one. she gets back between my legs. this time, two of her fingers enter without warning in my warm cunt as my eyes roll back, feeling overwhelmed by how well her tongue swirls around my clit and the fast pace that her fingers pick out.

she thrusts harsh, scissoring with her long fingers inside of me, removing them to dip them once again, her movements make my moans get even louder and louder.

i clench when i take a look at what the camera is recording. her face in between my legs, her hair sticking to her forehead as she eats it with pleasure, moaning at how good i taste.

her fingers follow her tongue pace, making me squirm in pleasure as she holds me in place. i can hear the squelching sounds my pussy makes as she thrusts.

"nu-huh. if you're gonna cum, then do it on my mouth baby. i'm not stopping"

she goes quicker and harder as i feel the heat on my lower stomach about to snap. i rut against her face, needy for release as she gives me a soft chuckle at my desperation. i feel her lips wrapping and sucking around my clit as her fingers curl inside of me, making my entire body tremble. my vision goes white as i roll my eyes back, feeling the orgasm run through my entire body. my toes curl from pleasure as she never stops, only when my body goes numb and i'm whimpering and whining from the overstimulation.

i open my eyes as i looked at her through the viewfinder of the camera. her chin and lips covered with my glossy release. her tongue licks her lips as she hums at the taste, her gaze almost black as she stares at my fucked out state. she props herself up from in between my legs, snatching the camera from my hands. she points it towards me, recording my face as her fingers enter my mouth. i suck them clean, tasting myself as i watch her half-lidded eyes and her teeth nibble at her lip piercing as she hums.

she holds the camera with one hand, while her right hand grips my face, squeezing my cheeks. only releasing to give a harsh slap as i whine. "such a whore, hm?"

she stands up, leaving the camera on the tripod as she quickly swifts off her clothes, throwing them somewhere in the room.

she gets in bed again, lifting my leg to place it on her shoulder as she positions on top, lining herself up against me.

we both moan at the contact. her dripping wet cunt rutting against my sticky pussy. her moves are harsh and fast, creating a rhythm that's followed by our moans and slick sounds.

my nails claw at her thighs, making her speed up. i throw my head back, chanting her name like a prayer.

her eyes are fixated on my expressions. she bites her lip as her hair sticks down to her forehead with sweat.

"hear those wet sounds doll? that's how wet you get me by being a fucking brat" her words hitting right to my core as i lift my hips, our clits bumping. "stay like that" she says in a moan, rutting faster. both desesperate for release.

"fuuuck" her teeth clench as her hands wraps around my throat, making my eyes roll back as she lets out a shaky breath, her eyes shuting close while her head falls back as she grinds herself faster.

i could feel the tight sensation wrappping me once again.

"gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum" i chanter as her grip around my throat tightens.

a loud moan escapes my mouth as the feeling snaps. heat on my lower stomach as my release makes her cum. her eyes roll back with a loud moan escaping her lips while she keeps grinding, making our releases last longer.

she slids from on top to stand up to. she turns off the camera, falling into bed, besides me. her chest going up and down with heavy breaths as i try catching my own, my cheeks burning red.

"not a word about this to anyone. this was a one time thing" i murmur, slowly getting up to find my clothes.

she lets out a sigh, replying. "yeah, not a word. we're not doing this again"

and one week later, i'm watching my own porn video posted on her only fans while she's between my legs with her tongue swirling around my clit as she speaks:

"do you like watching yourself while i eat you, doll?" she says as i nod. my hands grab her hair, tugging her up to leave my cunt. she gives me a heated kiss, making me taste myself on her mouth.

"let's do it again" i mumble in between kisses as she smirks, lowering herself down.

it's about to be a long night.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Steve was lying on the floor of Robin's room, his back against the wall as he let Robin paint his toenails while he flipped through one of her magazines. The radio played softly in the background.

"I am totally new to having a girlfriend, and by girlfriend, I mean platonic girlfriend," Robin said.

"Well, that's one thing we got in common, I don't think I've ever had a girl who's just a friend," Steve said.

"What about Perkins?" Robin asked.

"She doesn't count, I hated her. She's the reason Tommy became such an asshole," Steve said.

"Hm, yeah," Robin said and paused. "So, how close were you and Tommy?"

"Well, we were friends since we were eight. We pretty much bonded over the fact that we both had assholes for fathers. We shared everything and told each other everything. He told me about his first crush, and I told him about my first crush. We practiced kissing, practiced having sex, and when I got first kiss, I told him immediately," Steve said.

"Woah, woah, woah! Back it up!" Robin exclaimed, and she closed the nail polish. "What the fuck do you mean you practiced kissing and having sex with Tommy Hagan?"

"Exactly what it means," Steve said, rolling his eyes. "We hadn't gotten girlfriends yet, and we wanted to get good before we did. It doesn't mean anything. We like women, so it didn't count."

"It still counts!" Robin shrieked. "Did you or did you not put your lips on Tommy's?"

"Yeah, and I also let Tommy put his dick in my ass. I was basically his pillow," Steve said as he continued to casually flip through the magazine. "It doesn't count if you're not gay, Robin."

"It doesn't work like that! Steve Harrington, the first time you had sex was with Tommy Hagan!" Robin exclaimed.

"It was not!" Steve exclaimed, throwing down the magazine.

"Was too!" She yelled.

"Was not!" Steve yelled.

"Okay! So, let's say if I kissed you right now. . .," Robin said.

"Wouldn't count as your first kiss, you're a lesbian and I'm straight," Steve said.

Robin grinned, a manic look in her eye. She pulled her hand back and slapped Steve across the face. He screamed.

"Didn't count! I'm a lesbian and you're straight!" Robin yelled.

"Okay, okay, I see your point. Jesus, did you have to hit me so hard?" Steve asked, rubbing his red cheek.

"Yeah, dingus, I did," Robin said.

"Okay, so my first kiss was with Tommy, and I lost my virginity. We're not gay, though," Steve said.

"No, just desperate and very horny teenagers, apparently," Robin rolled her eyes. "I can't believe you had gay sex before me, and you're not even gay. I bet you pictured some blond with big boobies."

"Well, no, actually," Steve shrugged.

"Hm, what do you mean?" Robin asked.

"I didn't have to picture a woman. I liked it," Steve shrugged.

"You liked it?!" Robin asked.

"Well, I am a man, Robin," Steve said.

"Uh, except not every man likes it when another man rams it up his asshole," Robin said. "Okay, I kind of wish I had been more delicate about this, but I didn't know this was you being in denial kind of situation."

"I'm straight, Robin, I like women," Steve said.

"Yeah, and did you know that you can like men and women?" Robin asked.

"What?" Steve asked.

Robin smiled and got up to pull out a box from underneath her bed. She pulled out a magazine and tossed it at Steve.

"Read it, study it, learn from it," Robin said.

Steve looked at it quizzically for a moment before opening it. He stared at it for the longest time before finally closing it.

"I am an idiot," Steve said.

"No, you're not. You just didn't know," she said softly.

"Bisexual," Steve whispered, and then he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh my god, this whole time, I thought I lost my virginity to Chrissy Cunningham."

"Chrissy Cunningham?" Robin asked.

"Uh, we used to hang out all the time before she started dating Jason Carver," Steve said. "Our parents ran in the same circles."

"Well, you know, I guess you could say you lost your guy virginity to Tommy Hagan and your girl virginity to Chrissy Cunningham," Robin said.

"Yeah, that's true," Steve grinned. "Thanks, Robin, and especially thank you for giving me that slap. I definitely needed it."

"Anytime that you want me to hit you, I'm your woman," Robin replied.

They moved towards Robin's window sill and sat on it, opening a window to get some fresh air.

"You know this means that I'm not straight," Steve said.

"Something else we have in common," she said.

"You ever wonder how many out there who are like me and who just don't know?" he asked as he looked up at the moon. "Here in Hawkins, I mean."

"Probably a lot more than we think," Robin said. "And they're out there, sitting in their closets wondering if they're ever going escape themselves or be rescued."

"Isn't crazy how we found ourselves?" Steve said.

"Maybe queer people just end up finding each other," Robin said.

"Well, maybe they'll find their way out themselves," Steve said and then he looked her, hazel eyes twinkling in the moonlight. "Seriously, Robin, thank you."

"You did that yourself, you know, you just needed a nudge. I mean, you could have told me to go fuck myself and continued to live in denial," Robin said. "You're a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for."

Steve smiled bashfully and glanced back at the moon. He looked at her, with tears in his eyes.

"Is it possible to be platonically in love with someone?" he asked.

"I think anything is possible," she said. "I think it's a definite because I know that I'm absolutely, platonically in love with you."

They dangled their feet out the window and leaned against each other, Steve resting his head on top of Robin's.

"I wish I'd known you sooner," he whispered.

"I wish I'd known you sooner, too," she whispered back.

They were here now, though, and absolutely nothing could get in between them.

Part Two

[1-800-kami]

R U MINE? feat. gojo satoru

gojo satoru has got to be the picture definition of a stereotypical college frat boy. he’s cocky, loaded with his daddy’s money, and dangerously handsome. it seems like common sense to stay away from him since you’ll never get more than a one-night stand out of it. 

that’s why you choose to turn a blind eye once you’ve come to the horrific realization: you’re in love with him. and you’re just itching to ask…

“are you mine tomorrow? or just mine tonight?”

IMPORTANT: part two is out! read here :)

content: 8k words, afab!reader, angst! fluff! heartbreak! n everything in between! implied smut, rich college frat boy gojo and hellcat driver geto 🤑, emotional rollercoaster, reader has a toxic ex, trust issues (?) gojo is absolutely insufferable, misunderstandings, use of words hoe, slut, etc., mutual pining, some jjk character cameos (wink wink) me writing very unfunny dialogue, no bc wtf is this, cheating implications, emo gojo (the worst warning of them all)

author's note: hello hello! my name is kami, i've been reblogging fics on tumblr for a while now but i've recently figured out how to work this hellsite, so i'm going to start posting fics that i write! thank you to those who enjoyed my nanami drabble <3 kisses 4 u all.

this fic IS split into two parts and there is smut in the second part. so just. prepare yourselves for that ig.

reblog and interact for a kiss ;)

“so… let me get this straight.”

“go ahead.”

shoko takes a deep breath, and you just somehow know that she’s pinching her nose in exasperation right now. “utahime dragged you out to a party in hopes that you would hit it off with somebody. you wander off on your own and later, she sees you and gojo–THE gojo satoru–giving you his number?!”

“uh, yeah. that’s exactly what happened.”

“do you even understand what you’re getting yourself into?! that man bags hoes like they’re pokemon!” you readjust the phone against your ear and sigh at shoko’s comment. 

“okay, first of all, never say that again. second, i rejected all of his advances. i didn’t even save his number.” you stare at the crinkled-up note in your hands, which proudly displays his number and a slick call me if you change your mind ;). you wonder if you could sell this paper to his fangirls–you’d surely make a little bit of cash out of it. “i’ve seen gojo around. i know that i shouldn’t mess with him. plus, he was drunk as hell at the party; i doubt he even remembers my name. to him, i’m just some chick that he’s frustrated at because she didn’t want to fuck him the second she saw him.”

“do you… do you share any classes with him?”

“i don’t think i do.. just, don’t worry about it, okay? i’ll throw away his number and we can put all of this behind us. here, i’ll do it right now.” you rip up the paper into a few pieces before tossing it in the garbage can. hopefully, you did it loud enough that shoko heard it through the phone. “i get that you’re worried for me. and i appreciate that, but i can handle myself.”

“just… no more mention of gojo anymore, okay? you’re right, y/n. let’s just put this all behind us.” shoko sighs, and you smile at that. problem solved. you threw away his number, and he’s most likely moved on to the next girl by now, so that was that. now, you just have to forget about satoru gojo.

all to never let yourself get hurt ever again.

it’s hard to forget about gojo.

not because of those dangerous blue eyes of his–getting anyone lost in them if they stare for too long. not because of his stupid silvery white hair, which makes him look like a mop, and sometimes like a paintbrush. not that stupid cocky grin of his, either…

...but because you’ve recently found out that he sits next to you for physics.

the revelation was truly disheartening. you thought you could avoid him for the rest of the year because as far as you knew, you shared no classes with him. however, you completely forgot about the fact that gojo never attends class in the first place, and you don’t even know what classes he’s in… because he’s never there. so finding out that the seat next to you in physics wasn’t just an empty seat, and it was gojo’s assigned one, was truly an experience.

“gojo.” the name alone makes your heart stop, and you drop your pen to look at the man your teacher was addressing. “finally choosing to attend class for once?”

speak of the devil.

there he was, in all his glory–the man you’d never thought you had to deal with ever again. the man who tried to butter you up with his corny sweet talk so that you would go home with him for the night. the man who persisted with talking to you, even though you were barely interested. the man, who, at the end of the night, insisted on writing down his number for you in case you changed your mind about him and gave him a chance.

you wanted to shrink into your seat and never resurface. 

“good morning, yaga!” he says rather loudly, with no regard to honorifics at all. a few giggles could be heard across the classroom–though geto suguru’s voice was prominent–satoru’s equally as infamous bestfriend. “and yeah! it’s surprising, isn’t it?”

what’s also surprising is how gojo took a seat next to you. you thought that there was a mistake, that your teacher would scold him for sitting somewhere he isn’t supposed to sit and relocate him elsewhere. however, yaga just grumbles and begins the lesson, leaving you helpless and unable to look at the man next to you.

you swear he’s burning holes at the back of your head.

pleasdon’tremembermeisweartogodpleasedon’trememberme-

“you’re that girl from the party, right?” he whispers, and you’ve never wanted to disappear so badly in your life. you slowly nod your head, turning to look at him, and he pouts. “y/n l/n. you never saved my number. hmph, i was looking forward to a text from you, too.”

“i’m surprised you even remember me, 'cause you were fucking wasted that night.” you twiddle your pencil, averting your gaze from the man. “and i never saved your number cause i threw the paper in the trash. it’s probably at a landfill somewhere, y’know.”

your words catch him off guard, and you laugh at how surprised satoru looks. it seems that’s definitely not an emotion he shows often. despite his initial reaction, satoru swears he could feel butterflies with the way your laugh sounds.

“not a common problem for a womanizer, huh?”

“what did you just call me?!-”

“y/n and gojo, do either of you have something to share with the class?” a dark blush of embarrassment covers your face, and somewhere in the back, you could hear geto snickering. gojo just smirks at yaga, seeming completely uanffected. “then i’d suggest you stay quiet the rest of this lesson. don’t make me separate you two.”

“i’d prefer that, actually…” gojo huffs at your comment, thinking of this as a lost opportunity if the two of you get separated. he does a once over at your appearance. you’re cute, but definitely not the party kind. you’re playing hard to get, and gojo finds it adorable–not a lot of girls go that way with him. however, gojo thinks you’re not just like any girl. there’s something different about you that intrigues him.

“did no one ever tell you that it’s rude to stare?”

“how could i not? you’re so cute.” 

“i thought you already learned from the party, gojo. i’m not interested in you.” 

the light blush coating your cheeks says otherwise. he smiles cheekily at the way you tried to hide your reaction to his words. you’re an enigma to gojo… and he’s drawn to you like a moth to a flame. he thinks he’s made his decision.

he’s gonna do whatever’s possible to get your number.

when the bell rings 30 minutes later, you shove your notebook into your bag, eager to finally leave the class that you had with that stupid paintbrush. that is, until he stops you with a question. “what class do you have next?”

he’s relentless. “why do you care?”

“i want to walk you to your next class,” he says, and smirks before saying his next words. “it doesn’t really matter if you tell me or not. i’ll just follow you anyways.”

you sigh, absolutely exasperated with him. he’s like a fly who keeps invading your personal space—always coming back no matter how many times you swat it away. he’s right, though. damn him for being stubborn. “i actually have this period free.”

“oh, sweet!” he chirps, walking with you out the door, making sure to greet geto before he leaves the classroom. “let’s go to the courtyard. i’ll buy you a drink from the vending machine-“

“i was gonna do that regardless if you were here or not.” you give him a look, and you can’t help but tug on your sleeves when you see people whisper to each other as you walk the halls with gojo. of course you’ve heard the rumors. the man next to you is the most popular guy on campus. girls glare daggers at you and the guys call his name, although he barely even acknowledges them. 

some common things that you’ve heard about gojo around the school are: “i heard he only talks to girls for sex,” “apparently his best friend geto is just as much of a player!” “i mean, who wouldn’t fuck a guy like gojo, though? he’s hot and loaded.” “that’s how he reels you in, though. he gets his hand in your pants and never calls you back again.” you know you should stay away from him, it’s common sense, but it’s hard to stay away from him when he’s the one who glues himself to your side. 

“well, now you’ll get a free drink and we’ll get to know each other! isn’t that great?” he smiles and you just grimace at his words. 

“i don’t need your money…”

“don’t care! can’t hear you!” he says, and you’ve seriously considered just making a run for it. at least you’ll lose him, and you’d finally be able to find peace for a bit. although, it would cause a scene, and gojo would probably end up finding you again somehow. 

“what can i do to get you to leave me alone?”

that piques his interest, even though he looks slightly hurt by your question. he thinks for a bit, and smirks. “i really do want to buy you something from the vending machine.. and i want you to spend your free period with me. i’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day if you do.”

“do you promise? like, actually?”

“mhm! pinky promise!” you feel like you’re talking to a prepubescent boy.

“then sure-“ you’re about to agree, but he cuts you off with one more condition.

“i also want your number.”

you feel like you’ve been cursed by a god, because having the most popular guy on campus be interested in you has got to be the most chaotic thing to ever happen in your life.

“what do you have me saved as?” 

the question comes from out of the blue, and you look up from the book you were completely absorbed in. you and satoru were at the school library, on a “study date” as he calls it, although it was more so just gojo inviting himself to wherever place you go, as per usual. this time, you have an exam to study for, and you explicitly told him not to bother you unless absolutely necessary.

you do have to say, though, he’s not annoying as you thought he was. he just nagged you way more the first day he sat next to you in physics so he could get your number. it’s been a few days since then, but still, you’d definitely be more efficient in your studies if you didn’t have him attached to your hip all the time.

“satoru, i told you not to bother me-“

“unless absolutely necessary. yeah, i heard you, and this question needs an absolutely necessary answer! contact names really say a lot about our relationship, y’know.”

“relationship? nobody ever said we were even friends-“

“don’t break my heart like that, babe. plus, you don’t call me gojo anymore! it’s satoru to you now,” his heart warms at that realization, and you scoff, especially at the pet name. “we are friends, unless you’d like to be something more...”

“if you say anything else i’m calling you by your government name. gojo satoru.” he looks especially wounded by that.

“ah! don’t do that, please. it feels like we’re a married couple and you’re really mad at me.” he cries and you can’t help but giggle at his words. you decide to entertain him a little bit, fishing through your pocket to find your phone. 

he almost passes out at what he sees on your screen.

“it’s just my number? you didn’t even save my contact?!-“

the shushes from your fellow students and the librarians aren’t even enough to calm gojo’s agony and despair. it also does nothing to stop your laughter, either.

from that day on, gojo’s contact was forcefully changed from his number to “satoru” (he initially added a heart, but you deleted it, much to his disappointment) and one of his many selfies from his stupid instagram account. how the hell can a college student even have thousands of followers?! you think. 

gojo just says that nobody can resist his shirtless post-workout selfies. you’re surprised that you didn’t slap him at his words.

you push him away.

everytime gojo buys your favorite drink, (it’s always on him, despite your genuine insistence in saying that you could pay for your drink just fine.) everytime he walks you to all of your classes each day, (he memorized your schedule just so he could do this) everytime he buys you your favorite foods on the rare instances that you let him take you out for lunch, (usually, this requires a lot of begging, and you mostly relent during class when you’re just exasperated and wanted to get some notes down.), and everytime he calls you by those stupid pet names of his, you think back to what the entire student body says about him, and you think back to your phone call with shoko, where she warns you to not associate with him so you don’t get hurt by anyone ever again, and you push him away.

you push him away even when you realize that if he just wanted you for sex, he would’ve stopped chasing after you when you didn’t text him after that night at the party.

and that thought alone scares you.

still, you’re not heartless. satoru’s been asking to take you out for a while, and you finally agreed to go today. he’s especially chipper about your agreement right now, walking with a slight pep in his step as he bit around his ice cream cone. 

the park boasts some beautiful scenery today, and little children are out and about. still, you underestimated the weather, and the cold uncomfortably nipped your arms as you internally cursed yourself out for wearing just a shirt. you crossed your arms as a subtle way to shield yourself from the cold.

“don’t play coy with me, y/n. are you cold?” satoru says with a cocky grin, and you huff at his question. surprisingly, he drops the teasing act and unzips his sweater, handing it to you. “here, take it.”

“satoru-“

“i’m not doing this to flirt or whatever you’re thinking right now. you’re shivering, and i’m just concerned for you, so please wear it.” he deadpans, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him be so… upfront? you kind of like it. it’s not him teasing you or him being flirty. it’s just him showing that he genuinely cares for you as a friend. you take the sweater with a nod and put it on, ignoring how your heart is thumping as you take in his signature smell. cedarwood with a little bit of musk. it’s not an overpowering scent, but it still envelopes your senses.

“nevermind. you look so cute with my hoodie on. i feel like we’re in a j-drama right now, y/n!”

you take back everything you just said.

a few minutes later, you two are near the kids playground when you decide to take a break from walking, sitting on a nearby bench with gojo. the chirping of the birds and the wind passing through the trees is quickly overpowered by loud crying. crying from the child right in front of you, in fact.

you’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but satoru beats you to it. he kneels in front of the kid, and coos, “hey, buddy. what’s your name, hm?”

he stops crying for a moment to look at gojo and shakily responds, “gumi-um, megumi fushiguro..” 

“megumi, huh.” he clicks his tongue for a moment. “why are you crying, megumi?”

“i-i don’t know where my dad is!” he cries, and satoru looks to you for help. you just shrug, unsure of what to do with the lost kid, until gojo’s face lights up, assumingly with a great idea.

“he’s most likely just around here somewhere. you can wait with us, and we’ll help you find him! say, do you want an ice cream to help you feel better, megumi?” the boy hesitantly nods, and satoru gives him a thumbs up as he takes him to the nearby ice cream stand. you’re watching this entire scene unfold, absolutely enamored with gojo for the first time. you didn’t think he had a natural talent with kids—but the way he’s making megumi laugh while he happily snacks on his ice cream says otherwise. an outsider could look at you three and assume that you’re just a happy family. 

you try to ignore how that makes you feel.

and as you wave goodbye to megumi once he eventually is reunited with his father again, (an intimidating man who gave you two an appreciative nod as he walked away with his son.) you realize something as you tug on the sleeves of your-satoru’s sweater. 

you’re in love with gojo satoru.

and fuck, that revelation scares you more than anything. the last time you had given your heart to a man, he had crushed it repeatedly until you decided that you would never let yourself be vulnerable like that ever again. 

and now, you're in love with your school’s notorious playboy—and it feels like you’re setting yourself up to be heartbroken again. you want disregard those rumors and shoko’s words so badly, but they still eat at the back of your mind even though the real gojo satoru is right in front of you, and he doesn’t match the characteristics of the gojo satoru in those rumors at all.

you also remember that he has one real best friend, geto suguru. you like to think that this is also what geto sees in gojo. the reason why he’s stuck around.

the reason why you want to stick around too.

you’re so busy in your head that you’ve just noticed gojo frantically waving his hand in your face. “earth to y/n? oh, good! i thought you had, like, a shock reaction from seeing megumi’s father. he looked a little scary, no?” 

“he looks like if a muscle came to life and started talking.” you whisper, and he laughs in agreement. burying your hands into the pockets of his hoodie, you smile. you don’t want to think about your current revelation with gojo right now. instead, you’ll stick with the present. and right now, you like the present.

you just don’t want to think about what this means for your future.

it’s the weekend, and you’re doing some work at the local cafe, gojo-free for once. only god knows what the man is doing at three pm in the afternoon on a saturday. not like you should be thinking about him right now, though. his presence alone has caused you to be behind on your studies, and you need to make sure you catch up.

you have to admit, you were a little unused to the silence. usually, the silence would be filled with gojo’s endless banter with you, as well as his terrible, corny jokes that are so stupid you can’t help but laugh. his seemingly never-ending presence was annoying at first, but now, you’re starting to yearn for his company.

it further fuels the pit of uncertainty in your stomach, and you hate it.

shaking your head with a sigh, you take another bite of your pastry and continue typing up the report on your laptop. the looming thought of this report’s impact on your grade and the need to pass this class helps you forget about satoru for a while. once again, you get lost in your academics.

the ring of the cafe bell breaks you from your trance. it was a natural impulse of yours to glance at everyone who entered the cafe, but once you did this time, you felt your heart drop down to your knees.

it was your ex. 

your ex boyfriend who destroyed the notion of love for you, because he made you feel it for a short time, only to throw it all into a pit of fire and leave you scrambling to find nothing but ashes. 

if you had to find the true roots as to why you’re so afraid to pursue a new relationship–you always find your ex in the center of it. and now, he’s right in front of you. you have to face him again when you refuse to shamefully admit that you’ve barely even healed from the emotional scars that he’d left behind. 

you feel as if an invisible hand has wrapped itself around your throat, blocking your airways and your ability to speak.

out of all the days satoru wasn’t here with you, it had to be this one.

“y/n? is that you, sweetheart?” you wanted to vomit at the way he said your name. he had no right to say it so sweetly, when all he’s ever left behind is venom. 

“i don’t want to talk to you.” you cringe at the way your voice cracks, and you avert your gaze from him.

“please, just hear me out for a minute, baby..” he coos, and you hate the way he talks to you as if you were a child. “i know i fucked up, and i can’t change our past… but i can change our future together. if you take me back, i’ll show you how much i’ve changed-”

you don’t know how many times you’ve heard that stupid line before.

“god, you sound like a broken record with how many times you’ve pulled that bullshit on me.” you spat, loud enough to draw commotion in the cafe. your ex has surprise written all over his face–most likely due to your non-compliance to his words. “what, do you say that shit to all your hoes?”

your ex looks around, shrinking a little when he sees all eyes are on him. “now, now, y/n, no need to be like that-”

“be like that… be like that?! you’re telling me to be civil when you’re the one coming in here wanting me back, spouting some bullshit saying that you’ve changed, when i told you to leave me alone already!” you scream, and you could feel the tears bubble up in your eyes. you look down, so you aren’t able to see how everyone’s staring at you with pity. god, you hate pity. it makes you feel weak and vulnerable. the two emotions you absolutely loathe. “i just want you to leave me alone, god. i hate you, why won’t you just-”

“you fucking bitch-” he makes a move to lunge at you, and you instinctively take a step back, pure fear enveloping your senses.

you never feel the impact, though, as you see your ex being restrained by the cafe worker.

you remember him. the man who took your order earlier. he was an older man with a warm smile on his face, although you noticed how his cheekbones were slightly sunken, and he looked a little overworked. you jokingly quipped earlier that he should get some sleep before thanking him for making your order. he just replied, i get that quite a lot.

the size difference between your ex and the man is enough to discourage him from fighting back. he makes quick work your ex, dragging him out the door while he hysterically screams profanities to you on the way out. you assumed the worker threatened to call the police, because your ex scrambled up from the ground and ran away. you hoped this was the last time you would ever see him again.

“are you okay, ma’am? he didn’t hurt you, did he?”

you didn’t even realize that the worker was back inside the cafe. everyone was gradually returning to their own businesses, with the eerie silence being replaced by casual chatter once more. you also didn’t realize how much your hands were shaking, and you huff out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “y-yeah, i’m alright, and he didn’t hit me. i just… need a minute,”

you decide that you aren’t gonna get anymore work done like this, so you pack your laptop into your bag and slump onto the seat with a sigh. you bury your face into your hands. “is it a long story?”

“oh, don’t even get me started.”

he laughs at that, and you ease up a little. “i told him i’d call the police if i ever see him around here again.”

“that’s good to hear. though i’d prefer if i never see him in my life ever again.”

he hums at your words, and he turns to look out the window. “it’s getting dark out. do you want me to call you a cab?”

“no need, i’ll call my boyf–my friend. i’ll call my friend. he’ll uh, pick me up.” you’re still so shaken up you barely even register what you said to him. your eyes are frantic as you turn your phone on and look for gojo’s name in your contacts. you don’t know why you want him to pick you up out of everybody. you could ask utahime or shoko right now, but you just wanted nothing more but to see gojo.

the bell rings again, and you flinch at the sound. thankfully, it was just another customer. the worker sighs. “well, these orders aren’t going to be done themselves. just wave me over if there are any other problems, okay?” 

you nod absentmindedly, and he turns to leave, but you stop him. “wait, sir, what’s your name?”

“kento nanami.”

“thank you so much, nanami. i appreciate it.” 

“i’m just doing my job.”

“your job is restraining crazy exes of college girls and kicking them out?”

“‘it comes with the job description.” he teases, and you laugh lightheartedly. “and your name is?”

“y/n l/n.”

“anytime, miss l/n. again, just please… call me over if anything happens.”

“will do…” you say, pressing the “call” button on gojo’s contact. the anxiety is hitting you again, and you take a shaky inhale. you’re surprised at how he picks up almost instantly. “hey… satoru? yeah, can you come pick me up, please? i know i don’t normally ask you to do something like this but-”

“did something happen?”

“a lot happened, actually… i’ll text you the address. please, just come soon.”

“of course, y/n.” you could already hear him running out the door, hearing the roar of his car engine coming to life. “i’ll be there as soon as possible.”

he gets to the cafe in five.

you wave goodbye to nanami, thanking him once more as you get in the passenger seat of gojo’s car. 

it’s not your first time inside here, but you still can’t help but admire how… expensive everything looks. or maybe you’re just looking around because you’re stalling, and you have no idea where to begin with satoru. 

however, you notice that he’s not asking you what happened, and he’s not forcing you to explain anything to him. instead, he switches the gear shift out of parking and says, “do you want me to take you home?”

your eyes widen at his words, and you shake your head no profusely. the last thing you want to be is home alone right now, mainly because your ex knows where you live. you know he most likely won’t go that far with you, especially since nanami knocked some sense into him… but the possibilities still scare you. you take a deep breath before saying your next words.

“...can you take me to your house? i-i’m sorry for asking, i just don’t want to be alone right now cause i’m terrified and-” 

“y-yeah. i’ll take you to my house.” he says, and you’ve never seen him so nervous in your life. it almost makes you laugh.

“i’ll explain everything later. i just… wanna be somewhere safe first.” somewhere safe. you find his house as a safe place. gojo doesn’t know how to react. his heart is thumping wildly out of his chest, but he makes sure to put your own comfort before his feelings.

“you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” he says, maintaining his cool by keeping his eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear shift.

“but i want to, satoru…” you say. you can’t believe you’re doing this again. you’re crossing so many territories that you were so afraid to cross because of your ex. now, you think you aren’t that afraid anymore. not if you have satoru by your side. 

you place one of your cold hands on the gear stick, interlocking it with his. is he… shaking? “thank you for this.”

still. there are so many things you can’t say to him yet. you don’t know when you’ll be able to… or if you’ll ever be able to.

i love you. i love you but i’m too afraid to say it. i just hope that you’ll be able to wait for me.

“god, you’re killin’ me here, y/n.” 

that pit of uncertainty in your stomach has grown so large you feel it's about to consume you whole. you don’t think you mind much, though.

the two of you are lounging at his couch after satoru insisted on telling you to make yourself at home. there’s a movie playing, with neither of you paying attention at all, takeout on the coffee table, two glasses and a bottle of wine after gojo didn’t know what drinks to serve, and freaked out by pulling the first expensive drink out from his parents’ alcohol closet. has he never properly invited someone to his home before?

“so in short, you had a crazy ex who saw you at the coffee shop… and he was begging for you to take him back, and when you went off on him he called you a bitch and tried to hit you…” he recalls, a huge grimace on his face. “tch. the cafe worker shouldn’t have let him go like that.”

“i’m sure he learned not to mess with me after getting humiliated in public.. and nanami did more than enough for me.” you retorted, and he gave you a sour look. 

“oh, so you know the worker’s name now?” he says, and you could feel the tension build up in the air. oh. so he wants to do this with you? “what, is he your knight in shining armor?”

“he looks like he’s in his late thirties, satoru. i’m not into older guys,” you roll your eyes at his absurd questions and add, “what’s it to you anyway?”

“what’s it to me, y/n?” he repeats your words, and you could feel an argument coming, like you already didn’t have an exhaustive one with your ex. “you know how i feel about you-“

“what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” your voice is getting louder, all to hide your fear behind the implication of his words. you distance yourself from him on the couch.. much like how you distance yourself from letting satoru get too close to how you truly feel. “we’re not even together, satoru. you don’t get to control the guys that i talk to- hell, have you even seen yourself?”

you’re rambling, and all you want to do is shut up, but you can’t bring yourself to. “i’ve heard what our school says about you. y-you’re a playboy, right? and you only ever talk to girls because you wanna fuck them. i’m not stupid, satoru. i’m not different from any of them, right? you only chase after me because i’m playing hard to get and that pisses you off-“

“what… what are you even saying, y/n?” he asks, and it stops your rambling for a moment. you don’t know what you’re saying. you’re pouring out all the reasons why you’ve tried to push him away, the reasons why you were so afraid to give your heart to him. but now that you say them out loud, they sound outright stupid. 

“i started coming to class just to talk to you, i memorized your schedule just so i can walk you to class every morning. i buy you all your favorite food and drinks… i had to memorize your favorites too, by the way. and i have shit memory.” he’s screaming at this point, and you’ve never had satoru scream at you. there are unshed tears in his eyes, and it’s all overwhelming to watch this unfold. “and when you called me, i drove as fast as i could to you because you never call like that and i was fuckin’ worried!”

“so let me ask you a question, y/n… would i do all these things for you just because i want you in my bed?! i’d do anything for you, and you know that!” he’s crying. the gojo satoru is crying, and it’s all for a girl. if you told this to someone in your school, they’d call you a shit-faced liar. gojo satoru doesn’t cry for a girl. he makes them cry.

“i’m sorry for being skeptical, satoru! i just can’t help it when there’s so many rumors about you wanting to fuck girls just for the shit of it – and i’m conflicted on whether or not i should believe them because i want you so bad and i’m scared you’ll end up just breaking my heart and i don’t want that to happen again-”

he cuts you off. “you… what?”

you’re confused at why he looks so surprised, but then you backtrack on your words and you gasp. fuck. why did i say that? you cover your mouth and look away from him, refusing to meet his eyes.

those stupid blue eyes that you know you can’t get enough of.

“y/n… can you please say that again? i don’t want to do anything if i didn’t hear you right.” his voice is soft now, and you swear that you’re dreaming. this isn’t real. right? i’m gonna wake up soon. you dig your nails into the palms of your hands, leaving half-moon marks in their wake. it doesn’t work, and you don’t wake up, and you know you have to accept the fact that this is very real and it’s happening.

this is the worst leap of faith you think you’ve ever had to take in your life.

“i want you so fucking bad, satoru. and i’m realizing that you’re not just the stereotypical rich playboy that everyone talks about on campus—you’re a really great guy, and i guess i’m just scared to face that-” you don’t even realize that satoru’s got you cornered on the couch, and you can’t finish your words as he slots his lips against yours. hard. it’s the most passionate kiss you think you’ve ever had in your life, and it’s got your breath taken away in seconds. holy shit.

you quietly moan against his lips as you kiss back, cupping his face with your hands and wiping his tears away. you wish this moment would last forever, but you pull away so you can breathe. you meet gojo’s eyes, and they’re clouded with lust and desire, but you could tell he’s still a little uncertain. “we’ll talk later… just take me to the bedroom already,”

gojo doesn’t need another confirmation from you, and he lifts you up to carry you to his bedroom, practically tripping on his feet the way there.

a few hours later and a noise complaint from the neighbors, it’s safe to say that gojo satoru was the best one you’ve ever had.

“god, i’m never letting you go, baby.”

he’s tracing hearts onto your bare back. it’s littered with bruises and red scratch marks just from a few minutes ago, but you’ve never felt better in your life. you stare at the man who invited himself into your life just from an encounter at a party, and you thank your lucky stars that you agreed to go with utahime that night. “is something wrong? you’re starin’ again.”

“i’m sorry it took me so long to trust you. i’ve just been scared to open up my heart again, especially after him.” you don’t have to name “him” for satoru to understand. 

“i’m sorry too. i just got angry about the rumors and i also disregarded the fact that you’re scared to love again after your ex did all of that shit and-” he pauses, and sighs. “sorry. i’m rambling again.” 

he pulls you into another kiss, and this time, it’s sweeter, lighter, and full of love. “i’m going to show you what it looks like to really be loved, because it’s definitely not the shitty picture that your ex painted in your head. there’s way more to it than that.”

“i love you, y/n.”

“thank you, toru.” you whisper. maybe, one day, you’ll be able to find the courage to say it back. and it’s okay, because gojo is willing to wait an eternity for you. 

he’ll wait an eternity for you to teach you how to love again.

“look at how beautiful you are…” gojo says, appearing out of nowhere as he wraps an arm around your waist. you yelp, staring at your boyfriend through the mirror. he’s wearing a classic black tuxedo, with no doubt it being very expensive. it compliments the glimmering rolex on his wrist, and the thoughts running through your head about him and his outfit sets fire to your stomach.

“look at yourself first, toru… god, we should just stay home,” you tease, turning around to pull him into a deep kiss. it’s a friday, and gojo’s taking you out to attend geto’s party tonight. the two of you are going for several reasons. he wants to introduce you to his bestfriend, since you realized that you’ve never actually formally met geto before. it’ll also be your first formal “couple appearance”, as if gojo being attached to your side all the time doesn’t say enough about the two of you already. 

gojo pulls away, which surprises you. you pout at the expression on his face. “as much as i want to, suguru’s been bugging about you all week. i really do think it’s time for you to meet him,”

“hmph. alright.” 

“i’m tearing that dress off of you the second we get home, though.”

“satoru!”

“what?! not my fault my girl looks so damn hot all the time!”

this night is going amazing.

when satoru walks with you through the front doors, arm wrapped around your waist and the dress you picked out for tonight glimmering, you feel a little shy. the guys all whistle at the two of you, and the girls whisper amongst each other, but you and gojo don’t care. in his eyes, you’re the only girl he sees. the only girl worth being with here. 

“wanna go get drinks?” he asks you, cerulean eyes showing underneath his sunglasses. you nod, walking to the kitchen with him. you’re getting severe deja vu… you can’t believe you met gojo at the last party you were at. and now you’re at another party, with gojo as your date. you scan the crowd for utahime or shoko, wondering what you would say to them if they saw you with the man they specifically told you not to mess with.

it’s alright, though. shoko was wrong about those rumors, and gojo’s proving it to you.

“satoru!” the playful voice greets your boyfriend, and you turn to see geto suguru. you’ve seen him around campus, and he sits somewhere in the back of your chem class. you haven’t really had the opportunity to talk to him, though… and he looks a little intimidating.

“you must be y/n,” he says, offering you a freshly opened smirnoff from the drinks on the countertop. you thank him and grab the drink, taking a swig.

“yup! my lovely girlfriend,” gojo lets go of his arm around your waist to grab a drink. 

“you probably don’t know this, but i’ve been his wingman.” he smiles at gojo, who’s pouting, like he’s preparing himself for what suguru is about to say. “he’s batshit crazy for you, its insane.”

“oh? do tell.”

“when the two of you got together, he left me a voicemail at like… four in the morning? anyway, he was screaming about how he was the happiest guy in the world… or something.”

“that’s because i was!” you’re laughing at how unashamed satoru is about this.

“yeah, yeah, whatever.” geto clicks his tongue, pulling out his phone. “and he’s reposted you on insta to like, every drake song-”

“alright, me and y/n are gonna go dance.” he interrupts suguru, and drags you away from his best friend with a yelp. “nice talkin’ to you, suguru!”

“hey, i wanted to know more!-”

“shh, you don’t need to know about all of that.” the two of you are in the living room, in the midst of all the bodies dancing and grinding against each other. he pulls you close to him, and you feel his hot breath against your neck. “you look so beautiful tonight, y/n.”

“same for you, handsome. let’s dance, shall we?” you wrap your arms around him and just sway to the beat. you’ve never been much of a dancer, but everything feels natural as long as gojo’s with you. 

suddenly, the music changes, and one dance starts playing. you two look at each other, and you both burst out laughing at the same time. “have you reposted me to this song?”

“duh. it’s a classic.”

“can’t disagree with that.” you say, finding yourself grinding against satoru while wizkid’s part plays in the background. it feels like such a perfect night–you’re pulling satoru into a deep kiss, and he shoves his tongue down your throat while he’s leading you to a nearby couch. you’re seated on his lap, mimicking practically every couple in this party tonight. 

suddenly, you pull away, and you whisper, “i need to use the bathroom.” 

satoru smirks at your words, thinking that it’s a hint for something else, and you give him a sour face. “want me to join you-”

you hit his chest playfully. “that’s not code for anything, you perv. i actually need to piss.” 

he’s pouting at your words, but he lets you off his lap anyway, and holds your drink for the time being. “it’s at the second door in the hall to your right. be quick, please.”

“no duh. i’ve got a cute date to come back to,” you say, walking away and traversing all of the bodies that smell like sweat and alcohol. you’re a little unused to this environment, but it’s alright. you fix up your makeup in the bathroom and freshen up a little, walking back to the living room to find satoru again. 

you wish you never did.

you were gone for four minutes. five minutes max. you come back to satoru, and your breath hitches at the sight.

on his lap was a random chick that looked like every other girl at this party. she was practically naked, since her outfit didn’t do much to cover her skin at all.

fuck.

you remember the first time you saw gojo at the last party you went to. the sight wasn’t that different compared to the one now. there were girls all over him, all fighting for his attention. and yet, it seemed that night, his attention was focused solely on you.

what bullshit that was.

your eyes are blurry, and the music is muffled in your ears. white noise fills your senses, and all you want to do right now is run.

so you do.

you run, not caring if gojo saw you at all or not. you run out of the party, eternally grateful that you didn’t pick out heels for tonight and settled for much simpler shoes. you run, despite the fact that you drew geto’s attention. you were already out the door before he could ask what was wrong. you run, just wanting to get away from everyone and everything. you run with no particular destination in mind. you stop running when you almost get run over on a red light, the car honking at you–screaming profanities as it drives by. it breaks you from your trance, and you sit on the curb of the sidewalk, letting all of your tears out on what was supposed to be a perfect night.

of course gojo didn’t think that you were different. you were just like every other girl to him.

stupid. stupid. stupid. you’ve never felt so stupid in your life.

when geto sees you running out the door with unshed tears in your eyes, he immediately panics. what the hell happened?

he goes through every room of the house, trying to find gojo, when he hears a bunch of commotion in the living room. he runs there, pushing past everyone, only to find a total disaster inside.

he sees gojo screaming at a girl dressed like a stripper, who was on the ground with tears in her eyes. satoru looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel with how pissed he looks. there’s a crowd forming at this point, and geto knows he needs to intervene, so he drags his bestfriend away, who looks so distraught that geto could just wonder what the fuck happened.

they’re outside now, and its significantly a lot more quiet out here compared to all of the chaos inside. all the noise is coming from gojo—who won’t stop crying, and geto has no idea what to do or where to even begin. “fuck!”

“dude, what the fuck happened!?” satoru looks like he’s feeling every emotion at once. he looks pissed, pissed enough to punch a wall, and geto’s a little afraid that gojo might actually do that–or worst-case scenario, punch him. he’s crying, and geto hasn’t seen gojo cry ever since he fell off a swing in pre-k, so what happened must be really fucking serious.

“i don’t KNOW what happened, goddamnit! y/n went to use the bathroom and some slu- some girl came up to me and threw herself on my fucking lap! i was gonna tell her to fuck off but y/n saw before i was able to and now she’s gone and she probably thinks that i’m just some cheater when i’ve worked so hard to get her to trust me and-FUCK!”

he stops, trying to calm down a little, and gojo takes the shakiest breath he thinks he’s ever taken in his life. the red in his vision starts to fade, but he still feels helpless. “i just don’t know what to fucking do, suguru.” 

“i just saw y/n run out of my house a few minutes ago.” he says with a grimace, and he’s trying to figure out what to tell his bestfriend. “i’ve never seen you like this over a girl before. holy shit, you really love her, do you?”

geto thinks that gojo’s bloodshot eyes, the brutal names that he called that girl at the party, and the tears he’s shed for you are already an answer.

“this is your last chance to prove it to her, satoru.” geto fumbles through his pockets and hands him the keys to his challenger. gojo snatches them, hearing the car engine rumbling itself to life. the white-haired man thanks his best friend as he steps into the drivers’ side, with geto reassuring him, ‘ill deal with the chaos inside, you go ahead and explain yourself to your girlfriend’.

gojo swears that he’s never driven so fast in his whole life.

part 2 :)

[illbegottenfaith]

lucky - theo nott x reader

A tussle over a vial of Felix Felicis proves to be strangely enlightening

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

a/n - argh I had a bit of a rough time ending this fic also why do I kind of want a smutty pt 2 to this ahem ahem insufferable!theo when reader loses a bet with him ahem ahem

tropes/warnings - academic rivals, enemies to lovers (ish), cameo by Mattheo (??), fluff, physical touch, slight angst/yearning

word count - 1.6k

Two weeks. For two weeks you had spent every moment of your free time researching and experimenting to get the right recipe for the Draught of the Living Death down. You had seen the way Theodore Nott had perked up at the mention of the curious potion when Slughorn first mentioned the competition. You felt something stir inside you over the gleam in his eye, and that was when you decided that you absolutely had to win it. After all, who couldn't use a little extra luck every now and then? 

And win it you did. Strangely enough, Theo didn't seem to mind as much as he should have. After a superfluous promise to pass you the vial of Felix Felicis the following lesson, Slughorn dismissed the class. But you weren't satisfied, not when you'd realised a glimmer of an inkling of what Theo might be planning. He took off the moment Slughorn finished speaking, and you scrambled to swipe your things into your bag to catch up with him. As expected, you turned the corner and found the Potions storage room's door ajar.

"You know, I expected better of you, Nott."

Theo stilled, his back facing you, before surreptitiously pulling his hand out of his pocket. "You expected that I would be above stealing?"

"Of course not. But I thought you'd have enough dignity not to stoop this low." You clicked your tongue disapprovingly. "Didn't take you to be so sore a loser."

Surprisingly, your appeal to his pride was ineffective. He turned around and stared at you from under his beautiful overly long eyelashes, his lips twisting into a malicious smile.

"Loser? I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar with the term, Tesoro. You see, one, and only one, of us has today's highly coveted prize." His oily smirk widened. "So you'll forgive me if I don't quite feel like I've lost."

Your face flamed with indignation. "That Felix Felicis is mine and you know it."

Theo took on an expression of faux innocence, splaying his deceitfully empty hands. "I haven't the faintest clue what you're talking about."

You finally snapped. It was one thing to have his aggravating dreamy mug haunting your every waking and sleeping moment, and another to have him outright refuse to acknowledge that you had bested him. You hadn't slaved away the past two weeks perfecting your Draught of the Living Death just for him to nick it from the storeroom. No, you had won, fair and square, and it was time someone smacked that into that swollen head of his. 

You lunged at him, shoving a hand into his pocket, taking Theo by surprise. A second later, his hand closed around your wrist For pockets that did not appear excessively large, it was surprisingly difficult to rifle through its contents, especially with Theo's squirming. 

"You always do this," you bit out. "Since first year you've never been able to stand me getting ahead of you."

"Bold of you to assume you've ever gotten ahead of me, mia cara," Theo grunted through gritted teeth, wincing as you doubled your violent efforts.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, give it up already! I won, you lost. Now give me the vial."

"Finder's keepers."

So engrossed were you in your spirited if awkward wrestling that neither of you noticed someone had stopped by the storeroom.

"Uh," Mattheo started, half-conflicted about whether or not he ought to avert his gaze. "I can come back later."

"NO!" The two of you shouted, Theo trying to wrench your arm away, cursing furiously under his breath in Italian while you stubbornly scrabbled for the vial, hooking him in close by his belt loops. Eventually, after a sharp elbow jab to his rib, Theo's grip slackened enough for you to pull the vial out and shove it into your satchel. 

"Knock yourself out," you said breathlessly to a stunned Mattheo, with your uniform slightly askew and a tinge of pink colouring your face. You left briskly before Theo could recover and wandered to the staircase towards your next class, fixing your hair, still trembling from the adrenaline.

You hurried into the Great Hall for lunch once Charms ended, sliding into a seat next to two of your friends already eating.

"Hey, what did I miss?"

Ivy and Katie exchanged a cryptic look. "What didn't you miss?" responded Ivy innocently, tucking into her slice of Shepherd's pot pie nonchalantly. You frowned at Katie, who seemed to be pointedly avoiding your gaze.

"I don't get it. What happened?"

"Are you kidding? Everyone's talking about it."

"Talking about what?"

"You and Theo getting lucky in the Potions storage room."

You choked on your food, earning a few overly aggressive thumps on your back. "I am going to kill Mattheo."

You found him easily enough, pouring over some dull Ancient Runes assignment in the library. He didn't look up as you entered, fuming, but that was quickly remedied by a sharp smack to the back of his head.

"What else was I supposed to think, L/N? You had his hand down his pants, for Salazar's sake."

"In his pants, you idiot," you hissed. "In, as in his pockets. Didn't the scuffling and the fighting give it away?"

"I don't know," Mattheo said doubtfully, "it's a bit hazy how much actual fighting was going on. If I didn't know any better, and I don't, I'd say I was interrupting a little...something."

You glared at him. "He was trying to stop me from invading his pockets. There was nothing but fighting."

"Right," Mattheo said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Because if there were one person stronger than a goddamn Quidditch player, it would be you. Because that's obviously more plausible than the idea that he might just like you feeling him up."

You faltered, and Mattheo took the chance to scoop up his books and leave. "I wasn't feeling him up," you muttered half-heartedly, but he was long gone. And it was true. At no point were your actions motivated by anything other than a righteous desire to reclaim what was yours. But you'd be lying if you said that your mind hadn't wandered, if only for a split second, to what it would be like to be in that exact position under very different circumstances. But it was only inevitable, with the pressing against the hard muscle underneath the coarse fabric and the illicit feeling of running your hands along the most intimate part of his trousers. You groaned, digging the heels of your palms into your eyes, trying to erase the memory.

You left the library soon after Mattheo, turning your thoughts around and around in your head.

"You let me have the Felix Felicis."

It wasn't a question as much as a statement of fact. Other than a glance towards you, Theo showed no sign of acknowledging you. He kept that irritatingly cool expression, gazing out at the setting sun and the idyllic sight of the Hogwarts grounds bathed in a soft, liquid golden glow. You joined him at the observation point, your gazes parallel to each other's.

"I don't understand. Why steal it in the first place, then?"

"Why do you even want it?"

You cast your mind around fruitlessly. "It's...it's luck in a bottle. Who wouldn't want it?"

"But it's more than that, isn't it?" Theo tilted his head, considering her with his unfairly piercing gaze. "You like getting ahead of me. You like that you have something I want." 

You tried to ignore the way your hair was sticking to the back of what you were sure was your very flushed neck. "So you agree? " you asked, in a voice that sounded braver than you felt. "I get ahead of you?"

A small, almost genuine-looking smile flitted across his face. "On occasion." He turned to face you fully now, his smile turning cocky. 

"Is that where you get off? Being the object of my undivided attention?"

"You wish." You stuck your chin out defiantly, forcing yourself to look him in the eye. "Is that where you get off? All those ironic Italian pet names?"

Theo hesitated, blinking, like that was the last thing he expected you to bring up. "Right," he muttered, "ironic."

"So I think it's only fair," you continued, oblivious to the flicker in his expression, "that we call it even. At least for today."

Theo shrugged. "If you say so, mi - L/N."

You nodded, a little taken aback by how easy that was. Now what were you supposed to do? Leave, probably. But for some reason, your feet stayed rooted to the ground. Something compels you to stand there and trace the outline of his face as the setting sun throws harsh yet delicious shadows over the contours of his face.

"Is there something else you wanted?" Theo probes gently, as if he's almost as curious as you.

So much, you want to say, and the crushing weight of the sudden realisation almost knocks the air out of your lungs. All you could think about was how much you never wanted to stop looking and looking and looking at his beautiful face. Where was all this want coming from, and what on Earth were you supposed to do with it?

"No," you say in a small voice. "Nothing at all."

Part 2

[hirukochan]

Can I please request a snape smut fic? The reader and him have been friends since school and she is in love with him only he does not know it or realize his feelings till Sirius is flirting with her and it leads to a fight between them leading to them confessing to their feelings. Maybe some dirty talk biting and rough smut

Sooo...I got a bit carried away with this...definetly not the roughest smut I've written, but I hope you like it anyway.

Severus and his sunshine

Pairing: Severus Snape x fem!reader

warnings: Smut, loss of virginity

Wordcount: 7402 (oops...)

Read on Ao3 or below the cut:

“To the youngest Professor in the history of Hogwarts!” You cheer and raise your glass clumsily into the air, spilling half your drink down your arm. “Oops-” You giggle. 

It’s not the first drink of the evening and not the first time you toast to Severus’ new job - and certainly not the last. It bears repeating after all because how fucking awesome is this? You have always known that Severus is the most intelligent and brilliant and ingenious person you’d ever meet! It’s unfair - no, a bloody shame! - how many people never realised it just because Severus’ is a bit awkward and rude and- alright he’s a downright cunt sometimes but he has every bloody right to be with the road his life has taken so far! With a father like that and that awful Potter and his stupid goons!

“We need to cut you off.” He drawls, the corner of his lips curling, and tries to snatch your glass from you. You jump off the chair you're standing on and cradle your drink protectively to your chest, firewhiskey dripping down your arm.

“Try and I’ll bite your finger off!”

“You’re drunk.”

“No, I’m not.” Severus shakes his head but doesn’t try to get your drink again, instead focusing on his own (the second of the evening - what a bore). The pub is crowded and loud, nobody pays any attention to the two of you sitting at a table in the corner.

You plop back down on your chair and take a sip of your drink. 

Severus’ eyes have gone distant again. That happens a lot lately. Like something is on his mind that he lacks the words to tell you. Social interactions aren’t his strong suit. You’re the ‘Severus-translator’ Lily used to joke when you three were still friends because you always knew what Severus wanted to say but couldn’t. You always made sure he was included in conversations, told others to shut up so he could speak or smooth over his rough edges whenever someone didn’t get Severus’ dry and dark sense of humour. 

One look at him from across the Great Hall during breakfast and you knew whether he was in a good or bad mood. You knew when he had a nightmare the night before and needed a gentler touch or when to bluntly tell him he’s being a cunt.

This you can’t seem to figure out. 

He smiles less these days. Even less than usual. The four years since you finished school have been hard, especially for him, especially with the war. 

Emotions are not Severus’ thing.

His long black hair falls into his face, hiding his grave expression from the world and you. His face has lost its boyish features. His jaw is more prominent, complementing his high cheekbones. His hooked nose suits him. It’s something about the proportions or symmetry of his face - you can’t quite put your finger on it. Most people seem to be put off by his appearance, but to you he has always held something uniquely beautiful.

He taps his finger against his glass repeatedly. His fingernails are still painted black…You made him let you paint them last time he was at your flat. It suits him.

You place your hand over his, stopping his fidgeting. You wish you’d know what’s going on in his head, clearly whatever it is puts him on edge, but you trust he’ll talk to you when he is ready. 

“You’ll be great.” You say. “I have no doubt. You’re a bloody genius, Severus! These kids are so lucky. They can learn so much from you!”

“I am certain they will share your attitude.” He says sardonically and you snort. Severus downs his drink and takes your empty glass to get another round (and probably a glass of water for you because he’s such a mum sometimes). You smirk as you watch him make his way through the crowd. 

He sticks out like a sore thumb in these new robes he got, but you think they too suit him. It’s probably the first time he isn’t wearing hand-me-downs. He’s wearing all black of course. The most colour you ever saw him wear was at Hogwarts in the form of his emerald green school tie. 

Severus looks intimidating. It makes him look older, stronger somehow. It’s such a stark difference to the beat up jeans, the The Cure bandshirt you gifted him one Christmas and the shabby leather jacket.

But not in a bad way.

He looks good. 

Maybe it’s the fact he has grown taller since graduation. He’s a head taller than he used to be and shed his bend over posture. Escaping both Hogwarts and his recently deceased father agrees with him. That and your continued effort of forcing him to eat three whole meals a day, every day.

His wide shoulders and dark hair disappear behind people and you rip your eyes from the spot you last saw him.

So much has changed in the last four years but that little flutter in your heart whenever you look at him has not changed. When it first started in your fourth year you didn’t even realise what it was about. You’d start stammering around him, earning you silent glares and raised eyebrows from Severus at which you’d blush. After an embarrassingly long time you finally accepted that you had developed a crush on your best friend. 

You’re too terrified of losing him as a friend to ever tell him though.

Severus isn’t good with feelings. They are too complicated. Too messy. He doesn’t need messy. His life is messy enough and so you swore to yourself to never tell him.

Your friendship was already a miracle. You are his polar opposite. You are outgoing and friendly, polite - too polite sometimes - bubbly and optimistic. Severus is - well Severus. He is grumpy and quiet and rude.

You decided to befriend him in your first year. You saw him during the sorting and something about him pulled you in. You really wanted to get to know him and when you heard him talk during your first potions class you made the decision to gain his friendship however long it would take.

You started by sitting at the table next to his in the library. You’d sit there everyday, quietly doing your homework and when he stopped shooting you irritated looks when he thought you weren’t looking, you moved to sitting at his table. You simply smiled at the befuddled Severus and did your work. 

You approached befriending Severus like one might approach gaining the trust of a wild animal. Over the year a truce-kind-of study group had formed between you.

Towards the end of term he asked for your help collecting some things from the forbidden forest - Lily would never break school rules, but you are certain Severus didn’t actually need help, he just didn’t know how to tell you he wanted to spend time with you.

During the summer you send him letters, even after not receiving any back from him and when you saw him by himself in the Hogwarts Express in September you sat down next to him and you’ve been friends since.

You know a romance is even less likely than your friendship was.

“Merlin! I almost didn’t fucking recognise you!” A familiar voice says and you throw up a little in your mouth.

“Black.” You say monotonous. As if he owns the place Black sits down opposite of you on Severus’ currently empty chair.

“You’re hot! How come we never snogged in school?”

“Because whenever I am forced to face the fact that you exist I want to smash my head against a wall.” You say with a honey-sweet tone of voice at which Black’s grin only grows. He doesn’t get the hint. 

“How come you’re drinking alone, gorgeous?” Black continues undeterred, a poised and arrogant grin on his lips.

“I’m not.” His grin wavers ever so slightly but Sirius Black has always believed himself so utterly irresistible that such small details don’t matter to him.

“I don’t see anyone.” He is wearing muggle clothes, trying just a tad too hard to look like a rockstar, but he talks and holds himself like a pureblood still. He might have run away from home but he is still living off of his family’s wealth and he hasn’t changed one bit since school.

Black is (as usual) utterly unaware that he isn’t welcome. Black’s eyes roam over your face and down to your chest like he is appraising you, determining how much effort you are worth putting into seducing you. 

“I think it’s fate we meet like this! You look-” He licks his lips and a shiver of disgust rushes over your arms. “So different. Bet you cut loose that tosser Snivellus. He was clearly dragging you under. A frown on such a pretty face should be considered a fucking crime.” You clench your fists under the table. You have your wand in your boot. It would be so easy to hex him-

“Someone as stunning as you- Oi! I was about to head to this club in Dublin that recently opened to meet Moony and Wormtail - You should join me!” He winks.

“As I said - I am here with someone.”

“But you could be with me!” He laughs as if he just made a joke but you know he is dead serious. He thinks you’d gladly ditched whomever you are here with for the chance of spending time with him. “Bring her too - the more the merrier.” There is a not so subtle suggestive tone to his words and he wiggles his eyebrows. “Come on gorgeous! Someone as sexy as you should not be so uptight! Let’s have some fun, let loose a little - it’ll be worthwhile to you, I swear.”

“What a compelling offer.” Sneers Severus and your heart drops. Great. “I wonder how many you made that promise to, Black, and how many you left disappointed.” Black’s grin falters for a split second.

That’s right.

Severus is different.

He stands taller. He’s fierce and strong and you aren’t at Hogwarts anymore where it’s four against one with the teachers turning a blind eye. You have no doubt Severus would pull out his nastiest curses on Black given the chance.

“Let’s leave, Sev.” 

“Come on, gorgeous!”

“That’s not her name, but one can hardly expect a simpleton like you to care for such fine details as names.”

“Sev.”

“No wonder she looked like somebody was fucking murdered in front of her eyes when I found her - how Lily could bear being close to you for so long I’ll never understand.” Black turns towards you. “Kick this dick to the curb - I’ll buy you a drink, gorgeous.”

“She does not need you for that-”

“I can buy my own drinks.” You hiss and when Severus still makes no move towards leaving, you grab your jacket and storm off. Let them duel like little children if they want, but you won’t get in the middle of that. 

The cold hair of the night hits you while you run down the street. Tears sting in your eyes and you feel so stupid and pathetic for crying. Nothing even happened. You don’t know what’s going on- that’s a lie. Severus sounded like he was about to suggest you’re with him and therefore don’t need Black to buy you drinks which…it’s not wrong. You were at the pub with Severus and you were going to make him pay (he’s a Professor now after all and from what Sev let on the pay isn’t bad) but it wasn’t a date. And Severus suggesting or intending to suggest that hurts. You want it to be a date goddamn! You’ve wanted it for over eight years!

Severus calls your name but you just wrap your arms tighter around yourself and continue down the empty street on the outskirts of London.

“Just wait!” He catches up to you. “What a fucking wanker.” He huffs.

“Mh.”

“What did he say to you? I should have hexed him! I knew it!”

“Drop it.”

“No, I will not drop it! He made you cry- come on tell me what he said and I’ll-”

“What?!” Abruptly you stop walking and spin around to face Severus. He looks at you perplexed, his cloak billowing behind him in the breeze. “You’ll go and start a duel? Why? I told you to drop it.”

“He’s a fucking cavemen! Just the way he looked at you-” Severus grimaces. A muscle in his jaw tenses and he flexes his wand hand.

“Why the fuck do you suddenly feel the need to defend my honour?! You just ignored me in there- nevermind. I’m tired. I want to go home.”

“Don’t let Black ruin our night-”

“You ruined our night! I asked you to leave, you ignored me. I ask you to drop it, you ignore me. I don’t want you to fight Black! We aren’t at school anymore - you’ll get arrested!” Something you have never before seen crosses through Severus’ eyes. Something dark. A cold shiver runs down your spine and you take an involuntary step back.

“I wouldn’t be arrested, Sunshine.” He says, voice low, rumbling like thunder, a muttered promise of destruction and ruin and heat pools in your belly. That he called you by his nickname for you which he uses very sparingly, if ever, doesn’t help the matter. Severus takes a step forward. The heat morphs into a twisting, curling mass that takes your breath away. Severus looms over you, shadows dancing over his pale skin, drawing his cheekbones into an even sharper contrast and you gulp.

“You think Luci is going to come and rescue you?”

“Lucius? I don’t need Lucius for that.”

“Do you even fucking hear yourself?!” Your voice echoes through the empty streets, thrown back off the house.

“He made you cry!”

“Why does it matter?!”

“Because-” He clenches his jaw, his fists shake with suppressed rage. His nostrils flare and for a split second a tingling sensation winds around your heart at the expression in his eyes - the softness in the middle of a raging storm. A lone, untouched, unbothered island in the midst of a roaring ocean. 

Severus exhales. Tension falls off his frame and the expression is gone.

“Fine.” He says quietly. “Let’s go then.” And he walks past you.

“No.” You can hear his steps stop behind you. Tears drip over your cheeks and you stubbornly wipe them away. “Say what you wanted to say.”

“I thought you’re tired.”

“Say it.”

“It’s- it doesn’t matter.”

“I’m not moving until you say it.” You cross your arms in front of your chest. Behind you Severus sighs and you can practically hear him pinch the bridge of his nose like he does whenever you annoy him.

“You sound like a spoiled child.”

“Good practice then. You’ll have to deal with a lot of those, Professor.”

“Are you- I have the feeling you’re angry with me.” You spin around and glare at Severus. He’s not good with emotions, sure - but now he’s just being dense.

“What made you think that?” You deadpan. He rolls his eyes and his disregard for your feelings drives you mad. 

“Black’s a bastard-”

“This is Warren all over again!”

“Yeah and I was fucking right about Warren wasn’t I?” A vein on his forehead pulses, but you don’t give a shit. Warren was your first boyfriend and Severus behaved absolutely rotten towards you.

“Warren was a huge mistake, yes - but he was my mistake to make! What- do you actually fucking think I would ever fucking touch Black? Just the thought gives me an STD!” The barest flicker of amusement flashes over Severus’ features. “I just- I don’t get why you overreact like this everytime I talk to a guy. And it’s not like I was engaging Black there! The fucknugget is just to stupid to get a hint!”

“I-”

“There it is again! You did it again! What is it that you can’t tell me? Come on Sev! You can tell me everything. When did you start having secrets from me?” It’s a hit to your ego as much as you don’t like admitting it. 

You have always been Severus’ safespace. 

He told you things he never even told Lily! Something you didn’t know until third year when Lily asked whether Severus’ parents are ‘fighting again’ when you knew Tobias dickward Snape beat Sev with his belt the day before the Hogwarts Express left for the new term. You fucking healed him in you compartment because his ribs were broken and she asked whether they were fighting. 

Why can’t he tell you this?

Another tear slips over your lower lid and slides down your check. Your bottom lip quivers. You suppress a sniffle and nod. 

You have never felt further away from him than you do at this precise moment. It feels like Severus is sand slipping through your fingers and the harder you try to hold onto him, to the way it was before, the faster he slips away. Maybe too much has changed. Maybe he’s too different. Maybe this unlikely friendship was doomed from the beginning.

You know you’re about to start bawling and that’s the last you want Severus to see.

“Alright…I see.” You whisper. “Life’s different now. We’re keeping secrets now…”

“Sunshine-”

“No- no, ‘tis fine-” You roughly wipe your eyes. “See you- see you sometime….congratulations again.” You turn around to find a quiet alleyway to disapparate to your flat and break down there like a pathetic little teen that got her pathetic little heart broken without ever even working up the courage to confess her pathetic feelings. 

Your steps sound horribly loud in the dark, cold night and with every step you take away from Severus you feel like you’re losing him more, every step is another crack, another break, another insurmountable obstacle between you. The cold wind cuts through your clothes with ease and you shiver. 

“I love you.”

You stop dead in your tracks. Your heart skips a beat or two or maybe it forgets how to work entirely. 

Severus’ voice is quiet, uncertain like it has not been since second year when he thought you didn’t want to be friends with him anymore after he lashed out at you.

“Sunshine- I knew Warren would only hurt you. That he’s not good enough for you. He bragged in the Slytherin common room that you showed him your boobs- He said all sorts of awful things and I- I just sat there. I should have said something, defended you, made him shut up but- Warren was two years above us and…” He takes a shuddering breath, dispelling old shame and insecurity from his voice. “Black’s just like that. He never cared for you before and now all of a sudden he is dying to go out with you? You don’t even realise it, Sunshine but- you- you are stunning. You have changed so much since school, you are- fuck I don’t know- words-” He sighs and rubs his hands over his face. 

You feel numb and like you’re on fire at the same time. Of course you knew Warren spread some shit about you around, it’s why you broke up and broke his nose in the process for good measure, earning three weeks detention with McGonagall, but you wished you would have known sooner... 

And- Severus loves you? No- that can’t be right- He’s in love with Lily- it’s always been Lily-

“You’re happier somehow- you- you’re radiant and beautiful and- you’ve grown up so much and- and- I love you. I’ve loved you for years- I want to protect you. I want to guard your happiness and yes I’d go back to knock out every single one of Black’s teeth for talking to you like that. You just have to say the word - sunshine - I’m pretty sure there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. And I know I’m not bloody good enough for you- I am rude and surly and miserable to be around - I don’t expect you to feel the same…I- fuck I don’t know-”

“You love me?”

“I love you.”

“I thought you love Lily.”

“Lily is- was- still is- I have no goddamn clue- she’s like a sister. I love her. And I think marrying Potter was a huge mistake and that she’ll divorce him in about three years - if she manages to stand him that long and when she does I hope- I hope we can mend our friendship…maybe- but- but I don’t love her like that. Not like I love you.”

Severus loves you.

Has loved you for years.

Severus loves you… You swirl around and before your anxiety can overpower your heart, screaming and aching and thrashing about in your chest you cup his face with your trembling hands and press your lips against his.

Severus stiffens. For a moment you just stand there, on your tiptoes to be able to reach him, holding onto him, feeling his heat against you, your lips exploding with electrifying tingling. Your stomach clenches and twists, flip flops and gives birth to a thousand erratic butterflies and all flutter around in a whirlwind of emotions that are too colourful, too many, too intense to ever find words worthy of describing the sensation.

Cautiously Severus puts his hands on your back and moves his lips against yours. You’re still crying, tears stream over your cheeks and run along the curves of your face to your lips. 

As if woken from an enchanted slumber, Severus drags you against his chest and kisses you fiercely. One arm wrapped around your back and clutching at your waist, and one hand cradling the back of your head, long slender fingers threading through your hair. You grab the front of his robes and cling to him. 

You both stumble a few steps and your back hits the brick wall of a house. Severus licks along the seam of your lips which you happily part for him. Your kiss grows sloppy and desperate. Your tongues meet gingerly at first but soon the slight air of discomfort and wariness at this development vanishes, flies away into the cool air of the night, gone and forgotten, as unimportant as your stupid fight.

Severus is kissing you. You are finally kissing Severus. He loves you. He has loved you for years.

Everything is good.

“Sev-” You whimper against his lips between two kisses. You try to break them, to wrench an inch of air between you but Severus is like a man dying of thirst that finally found a water source and is clenching his burning thirst. “Sev-” You push against his chest. Severus releases your lips, but doesn’t move away, doesn’t let go of you. 

He leans his forehead against yours and blinks back at you, his dark eyes seemingly trying to pervade yours, to find a direct path to your deepest thoughts, a link between you and him that is untouchable by anybody else, that runs deeper than any other connection between two people.

“Don’t you want to invite me back to your place?” You murmur and tug playfully at the button just above his throat. Severus’ eyes darken. A muscle in his jaw jumps. Your cunt clenches around nothing. Needy, desperate, wanting.

He clears his throat and steps back. How the fuck does he still look put together? How can he manage to reign in that storm in his eyes so expertly, so fast and clean while you’re a panting, sweaty, needy mess after just a few damn kisses?

“You won’t like what I’d do then.” He says, voice heavy with what he leaves unsaid. You push yourself off the wall and wrap your arms around his shoulders. You trail a few chaste kisses up the side of his jaw and flick the tip of your tongue over his earlobe. Severus inhales sharply and flexes his hands again.

“I don’t break easy, Sev.” You whisper and press a kiss to his ear. “You should know that.” He takes another shuddering breath and just when you think you’ll have to deal with the aftermath of his kiss on your own while picturing him nestled between your thighs (once again), he pulls you against his chest and holds you in a bone-breaking grip. You feel the familiar pull of side-along apparition and in the next moment you smell the even more familiar, dusty scent of Severus’ house. The smell of books is new, added after Severus renovated the house enough to evict his father’s influences and put his own touch to it - namely by adding a shittone of books.

Severus doesn’t give you time to catch your breath. He grabs your hand and pulls you up the stairs. You giggle and run to keep up with him. He practically kicks the door to his old room open (you know for a fact he has not even touched the door to his parents room since his father died) and crushes his lips against yours as soon as he pulls you over the threshold.

The burn marks from where Severus used to zap flies with his wand are still on the ceiling. The little pencil sketches you made near the baseboards are as well. He replaced his bed though. A brand new double which you are being steered towards now.

“Severus-” You moan against his lips and tear at the buttons of his new robes.

“Is this real?” He whispers back and leans his forehead against yours again, watching you struggle with his clothes. “I’ve pictured this so many times- thought about how I would feel to have you here- is this happening? Or am I sleeping?”

“It’s real.” You say, lips against his recently freed throat. “I’m here.”

“You’re here…”

“Severus-” You hesitate and pause your quest of revealing Severus’ body to your eyes. “I’ve never done this-” Suddenly you feel shaky and overwhelmed.

“Warren-?”

“Is full of shit. He lied- about all of it. Have you-” He nods, but there’s a distant expression in his eyes that tells you it’s not something he wants to talk about. Probably something he’s ashamed of. You know the kind of company Lucius, Mulciber, Rosier and the other’s like to keep and don’t pry further.

“I’ll trust you then.” You murmur and sit down on the bed, pulling Severus down with you.

“I’d never want to hurt you, Sunshine.” You kiss and between kisses scoot up the bed until your head is resting on the soft pillows and Severus’ lean body between your thighs. “I’ll take care of you.” He mutters against the corner of your mouth and kisses your cheek. “Such good care.” He trails down your jaw. “Like Black or Warren never fucking could.”

“I never wanted them.” You moan. Your body moves on its own, knowing precisely what you want and need even if your mind has yet to catch up. Your legs wrap around his hips, your back arches, pressing your breasts to his chest. You thread your fingers through his silky hair. “Only you.”

“Me?”

“Only you. Always you. Whenever I thought about it…when I pictured how it would feel while touching myself I only ever pictured you.”

“Oh sunshine-” He groans and rolls his hips against you.

“Sev-” Severus draws his wand and mutters a quick spell. Something curls in your stomach, it’s the weirdest sensation and for a second you are utterly confused, but then your gaze meets Severus’ and you understand. Contraception spell. You didn’t even think of that. Of course Severus did. You smile. 

He mutters another charm and your clothes vanish. You squeak, blush and hide your face behind your hands.

You can hear the clanking of wood hitting wood as Severus tosses his wand onto the nightstand.

“You- fuck…” Cautiously you peek between your fingers. A faint pink tinge has spread over Severus’ cheeks and nose, down to his now fully exposed neck. He looks cute. Adorable. You take a deep breath and drop your hands. This is Severus. Your Severus. There is nothing to be afraid of with him. “You put to shame all great beauties of the comprehensive history of this world.” His words brush over your skin like a tender caress and make you shiver and burn with embarrassed heat at the same time.

“Severus-”

“It’s true. The old greek masters wish they would have had a model like you sit for their marmour statues. Such beauty has to be preserved for the ages - but you…you are just mine.”

“Who are you and what have you done to my stammering, cute, insecure Severus?” You tease. Severus’ eyes are still pinned to your breasts. He visibly snaps out of his thoughts and looks up to you. There he is. Flashing through his impossibly dark eyes for the flicker of a second before they return to the heavy gaze, consumed by carnal desire that has been ignored for too long and has now broken free with demanding force.

“He knows he’s about to find out how you feel.”

“Come and find out then.” You shoot him a challenging grin. Severus kisses you in response. He kisses you and settles more of his weight on you. His very much hard cock presses against your exposed cunt. You gasp and clutch at Severus.

“Shit- Severus- that won’t fit!”

“It will.”

“You sure?” He chuckles, his eyes lighting up with amusement like they do so rarely and you relax.

“I’m sure.” You trust him. You love him. You want him. He’ll take care of you. 

You let him take control. Severus kisses you more. He seems determined to cover every inch of your body with all the confessions of his love he has missed out on. All the elapsed opportunities. All the kisses you could have shared if you both had had just a little more courage. But it doesn’t matter. You are here now. You are together in his bed, skin pressed against skin, breathing the same air, staring into each other’s eyes longingly while his hand slips between your thighs.

You’re soaked and whimper when his slender fingers gather your slickness, brushing your aching cunt with featherlight touches. He draws gentle, slow circles over your clit. Pressure and heat build in your belly and deep inside your cunt fast. You cling to his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin without even noticing.

“I wondered so many times how you’d look…” He murmurs. His lips brush over yours as he speaks. His breath dances across your cheeks.

“...in the throes of pleasure.” Severus’ voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard it. A smoky rumble that goes straight to your core.

He teases your entrance until you’re squirming and rolling your hips against his touch before finally plunging a finger inside you. “I wondered how you’d sound…how I would feel knowing it was me making you feel like that…” You give him the answer promptly. Moaning and whining, gasping for air.

“Sev!” You throw your head back and arch your back. The pressure keeps building and building, beyond anything you ever managed yourself. He adds a second finger and with it a delicious, stinging stretch. He curls his fingers and presses the heel of his palm to your clit. You squirm under Severus’ intense gaze that seems to look right through you, through your skin down to your very soul. He watches every flicker of pleasure and desperation he paints onto your face with utter, devoted, undisturbed attention to you and nothing else. Nothing else matters.

Severus knows you like no other. It feels right to share this with him as well.

He loves you.

You still can’t believe it. 

“Sev!”

“Cum for me, sunshine. Cum on my fingers. I want to know- I’m done wondering. I want to know.” You do. Crying out and panting his name, thrashing about beneath him as waves upon waves of intense pleasure run havoc over you, but it’s fine. You can let go with Severus.

“I need you Sev- please-” You gasp even before your orgasm has released you from its clutches. “Please please please- Sev-” He groans. 

“Fuck and I thought you sounded needy in my head.” Severus mutters and aligns himself with you. He takes his time, giving you time to adjust to his girth, slowly pushing deeper and deeper into your still spasming channel, forcing it to give way to him. He grunts and whispers praise, how tight you are, how good you feel for him, how well you’re taking him. You whimper and hold onto him, leaving red streaks across his back. Severus doesn’t even bat an eye at it.

He buries his head in the crook of your neck and savours your every sound, every twitch and throb of your cunt finally, finally gloved around him.

“Sunshine-”

“Severus…” More words aren’t needed. He rests there, deep inside you, his body pressed to your trembling smaller one, shielding you from the cold of his room and the world itself and you know there is a promise in there somewhere.

“I can’t believe it-” He murmurs and kisses your collarbone, down to your sternum. He kisses and licks, sucks, grazes your skin with his teeth. “You feel…incredible…you’re so good for me sunshine-” He kisses your breasts, flicks his tongue over your hardened nipples, licks broad strokes and teasingly closes his lips around them.

When Severus finally moves again he does so in slow, measured thrusts. He watches your expression with hidden wariness, watches your every reaction. He can’t hide from you though. He is waiting for you to regret this. To tell him to stop. He’s afraid of letting go, afraid of scaring you off, of losing you.

But he’ll never lose you.

You buck your hips and whine impatiently. “Come on Sev.” You whimper. “Fuck me like you really want to fuck me.”

“It’s your first time I will not-”

“It’s done, Sev. Bye bye virginity! That train of stupid little things society places far too much worth in has left the station indefinitely. Now fuck me.”

“Sun-”

“Severus Snape! Fuck. me. properly.” He groans. His eyes roll to the back of his head.

“Fine.” Severus grunts and a rush of excitement pulses through your stomach and drenches his throbbing cock in more fluids. “I warned you.”

The bed creaks dangerously under his thrusts. His hips slap against yours with a wet, fleshy sound that drives you crazy.

“Oh fuck yes- yes- just like that- that’s-” You babble more nonsense, moaning and shredding Severus’ back with your nails. He fucks you mercilessly into the mattress, spearing you open with his cock with each hard thrust. Your entire body trembles under his thorough attention. Your cunt yields to him in wet, fluttering excitement. It cherishes the promise of soreness his thrusts leave behind. 

Any attempt at grasping for and trying to hold onto one of the many thoughts rushing through your fuzzy, hazy mind is a fruitless endeavour.

“Fuck! Ahhh- so good…” Severus mutters against your collarbone and plunges his cock into your drenched cunt again before pulling out almost completely and driving back in with such force he knocks your head against the headboard. You both laugh.

“Sorry-”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” You weave your fingers through his hair and pull him down into a sloppy, passionate kiss. You gasp and moan into the kiss and drink up the way Severus continues to lose the iron grip on his emotions he had cultivated since graduation, revealing more and more of the love-starved, unapologetic, fierce man you know him as. The man that feels so freely, so intensely, so deeply that it hurts him so much.

Every thrust, every kiss, every exploring hand gliding over your sweaty skin, squeezing your breasts in testing, careful motions is a testament to how deep his feelings for you run and have been running for so long. 

It breaks free of him in violent bursts and buries you beneath roaring pleasure. 

Severus is not good with words.

But he will be damned if he doesn’t show you what he can’t figure out how to say.

“Severus-” You moan, joining the creaking bed and his grunts, the symphony of your love. This would not be a pretty, romantic, fairytale like love. You are both messy and broken in your own ways. It will be hard. It will take work and compassion and will seem impossible at moments, especially in the midst of a war, but Severus is worth it.

To you he is worth it.

He always was and will always be.

You whine in protest when Severus pulls out of you but before you have a chance to voice it otherwise or even glare at him, Severus flips you over.

“Put your hands on the headboard.” He rasps in your ear. You are shaking and struggle to keep yourself upright, but Severus’ arms around your waist stabilise you. You hold onto the headboard so tight your knuckles turn white. Severus is kissing your neck, nibbling and sucking, painting his marks onto you as if to say ‘I was here’ or maybe ‘back off’. Maybe both. Maybe more.

He fills you up again, reaching much deeper than before and you gasp at the unfamiliar, intense feeling.

“Your cunt clutches me so hard-” He grunts and bottoms out. “Sucks me in- all soaked and desperate.”

“Sev-”

“Hmm…yes. I’m here…” He sucks the delicate skin on your neck into his mouth and bites down gently, at which a loud, wanton moan breaks free of you and he bites down harder. 

You meet his thrust with your hips, his cockhead hits a spot inside you it previously missed and you fall apart. His grip around your waist turns bruising and Severus pulls you back. Your grip around the headboard goes slack. You melt into his touch, twitching and shivering, whimpering, mind fuzzy with always new, higher, stronger, more intense levels of pleasure.

Severus holds you to his chest, your thighs on either side of his, useless, hands helplessly holding onto his arms, and moves your body up and down his hard shaft. Using you and the fluttering of your cunt as your orgasm continues to coarse through you. He grunts and bites your shoulder, harder than before and a particularly strong spasm shakes your body. You drop your head onto his shoulder, melting further against him.

“Again-” You rasp and present your neck to him. A grin flashes over Severus’ lips. Sweaty strands of hair stick to his forehead, his eyes are glazed over with hazy lust.

“My pleasure.” He coos, but instead of indulging you, he kisses you. One small, chaste peck after another. You squirm against his grip, claw at his arms, painting more red streaks on his pale skin.

“You never told me you got a tattoo-” You murmur. The sight of the jet black snake and skull on Severus’ left inner arm pulls your mind out of its haze and into a brief moment of clarity. Severus hesitates ever so slightly in his thorough, teasing attention he’s paying to your neck. Something about the tattoo unsettles you, though you can’t exactly decide why.

“Must have forgotten. It’s new.”

“Hmm…very metal.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Why’d you get it then?”

“I thought I would.” Severus sucks on your neck and that plummets you back into mind-numbing, all-consuming, ecstatic pleasure.

“Maybe we should go to Dublin after.” Severus purrs in your ear. “Show Black all your pretty marks.”

“Idiot.” You giggle.

“I’m going to cum-”

“Cum inside me.”

“I don’t have to.”

“Please, Sev! Cum in me.” Severus pushes you forward and you fall face first into the mattress with a tiny outrages squeal. Severus laughs at you and grips your hips, adjusting them to sit flush with his own. He fucks you roughly into the pillows. You clutch at the sheets. Severus loses more and more of what little composure he still had. He mutters things you can’t make out.

His thrusts are accompanied with lewd, wet noises and the headboard hitting the wall.

“Severus!”

“I’ll fill you up ahh- with my cum- leave you dripping-”

“Yesyesyes-” He moves your hips with each thrust, pulling you back into him as he buries his cock inside you. His balls hit your sensitive cunt. His fingers dig into your skin, sure to be leaving bruises. 

Severus cums with your name on his lips, tumbling over them in a low, reverent, lust-drenched prayer which you join with your own faint, desperate whimpers.

Feeling the hot spurts of cum hit your inner walls violently kicks you over the edge for the third time. Severus slumps above you, pressing his forehead to your back between your shoulder blades, panting and spent.

You stay like that for a while. Both of you trying to catch your breath, relishing in the buzzing glow of your aftershock and the feeling of each other’s love on your skin and warming you from the inside.

Gently Severus pulls his softening cock from you and lies down next to you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“Sorry.” He murmurs in your hair and presses a tender kiss to the top of your head. “I hurt you.”

“I liked it.” You murmur back and place your hands against his chest, nuzzling your face to his neck. “Why did it take us so bloody long to finally do this?” He chuckles. He tugs a strand of messy hair behind your ear. You look up to meet his gaze. It’s heavy with emotions, a swirling storm of love and care and fear. You reach out to him in a futile attempt of soothing it. The pads of your fingers meet his cheek and he shudders under your touch, before leaning into it. His eyes fall closed and for a brief moment he looks at peace. Content. Home.

“I-” He opens his mouth as if to say something but closes it again. His brows pull together into a frown, a deep crease forming between them. His lips go white as he presses them together into a thin line. His jaw tenses. “I’ve made a terrible mistake-” His voice is hoarse from unshed tears and the effort of suppressing them. He loses. One escapes from between his closed lids and slides down his cheek, meeting your fingers. You wipe it away, but more follow. 

“I’m trying to fix it- I am! But I-”

“It’s ok.” You whisper and press a tender kiss to his jaw. 

So he did it…You had your suspicions, of course you did, but a part of you refused to believe Severus capable of those horrible acts committed by the Death Eaters. And you were right. The pain, regret and self-loathing is so evident in his face. He can’t bear to look at you.

“We’ll fix it. Together. It’ll be fine.”

You are there when the Aurors storm his house to arrest him. You were sitting on the threadbare sofa in his arms as he read to you. 

You tell him not to resist, to not tell them anything.

You send an owl to Dumbledore.

You are at the trial, sitting on one of the benches. Severus looks miserable sitting in the middle of the courtroom, deep shadows under his eyes, a tremor in his wand hand. The chains of the chair are wrapped tightly around his arms. He avoids your eyes.

Dumbledore defends him passionately. Recounting Severus’ turning spy for him, reporting you-know-who’s steps to Dumbledore, how invaluable his intel had been. He recounts the dangers Severus was willing to face. He demands he is released. And he is. The Wizengamot clears him of all charges and you walk out of the Ministry with him, holding his still trembling hand in your own.

“Is this real?” He whispers and you bite the inside of your cheek to not start crying. You want to be strong for him.

“Yes.” You kiss his cheek and wrap your arms around his neck. “It’s real. You’re a free man. I’m here. I will always be here. We’ll figure this out.”

“Together?”

“Together. I love you, Severus.”

“I love you too, Sunshine.”

[moonchild1]

min yoongi fic rec list (Ⅵ)

she's back bet you didn't think i'd post another list this quick but since they've been building so much i figured why not soooo this week is yoongs and next week with be taehyung i've been reading alot lately so i wanted to share them asap so before my week gets hectic again i thought i'd post it, i honestly loved these ones i am exploring a little bit for with certain genres and i must say it like a whole new world i'm enjoying it and i hope you like them too. remember too always show lots of love and support to these amazing writers they dedicated so much time to writing these fics and they are absolute geniuses and deserve the world for sharing them with us so please follow them and take a look at their masterlists cause i will 100% guarantee that you will find your very own favourites there as well, leave the a little comment i know they will appreciate it so much and send them all the love in the world... i will reblog these through out the week and as usual minors do not interact i will block those who do.... happy reading everyone see you next week with taehyung's list and if you have anything you would like to share with me or you just wanna ramble about a fic you loved my asks are always open i love hearing from you🖤✨

a- angst s- smut f- fluff

series

stalemate by @shina913 f s a

↬"The truth is, I'm not afraid to take that gamble anymore...in the off-chance that I get lucky again and feel the way I felt when I was with you. I'd happily make that bet over and over."

oh, my darling by @yoongiofmine f s a

↬ starting your second semester at one of South Korea’s most prestigious universities should be stressful enough. Between juggling classes, good grades and a social life, your plate was full. Hoping to spice up your academic career, you thought it was a good idea to enroll as an assistant for your literature professor, whom you've held a very secret and very forbidden crush on for the past several months. What will happen now that you’re forced to work closely together? And what if your crush isn’t as one sided as you thought?

little bit of your heart by @/yoongiofmine f s a ft. jjk

↬You had everything you could ever dream of; the career of your dreams as a music producer, the best friends you could ever wish for, and a exes-turned-friends-turned-fuck-buddies relationship with Min Yoongi. You knew you and Yoongi would never move past that and you were okay with it. Until a friend from your past comes back into your life, offering to give you everything you deserve, everything Yoongi couldn’t. Will Jungkook show you what you’ve been missing? Or will the new guy threaten Yoongi enough to do something about it? 

sinful lust by @oddinary4bts s a ft. jjk

↬ in an attempt to spice up your bedroom life with your boyfriend Min Yoongi, you suggest bringing another man into the action. Yoongi seems reluctant at first, but when you mention his friend Jeon Jungkook, he can’t deny his attraction. All that’s left to do is to convince Jungkook into participating...

after hours by @archivedkookie f s a

↬ staying after hours with Yoongi for months proves to be a mistake when your heart falls for him.

Vows by @hamsterclaw f s a

↬ You're five years into your arranged marriage with Min Yoongi, and he's never once retaliated for anything you've done to him. One day you realise you've lost your appetite for provoking him, and you set about trying to win his heart instead.

sutures by @farfromsugafanfic f s a

↬ There was only one thing you and Min Yoongi had in common that night. You were both brokenhearted. You only intended to be together for one night, but when you both end up in the hospital the next day you discover that you are soulmates. It could kill you to be apart. As you and Yoongi attempt to sever the bond between you, will another be formed?

and so it goes by @prodagustd f s a

↬ You and Yoongi have been hooking up, having dates and spending most of the week together for almost seven months. He was comfortable without a title, until the last two weeks, when you couldn't see him because of your busy schedule, Yoongi can't understand why he misses you so bad if your relationship is just sex to him. Or maybe he does, but he's too much of a coward to admit it.

collateral by @theharrowing f s a ft. jjk & knj

↬ Your ex-boyfriend gets in over his head working for the local mafia, and Boss Min has come to collect his payment: You.

till death do us part by @colormepurplex2 s a

↬ Marital bliss isn't always a guarantee, especially when you find yourself marrying into the family responsible for your own family's demise. Sometimes, marriage is just a game of kill or be killed. Even when there is love involved, bullets still hurt.

grey area by @blushoseoks s a ft. jhs

↬ you spent the days staring at your wrist and tracing the skin where your soulmate’s name would one day appear. the nights were for telling your wrist about your day, as if the person whose name would one day stain itself there, like red wine to a dress, could possibly hear you. for years you thought up countless scenarios, imagined numerous possibilities, formulated conversations and rehearsed them over and over, until your mouth ran dry. outcomes and conclusions performed in your head on a repetitive loop. but out of everything you thought up, out of all of the time spent towards thinking about your soulmate, about what could possibly occur, none of it could ever prepare you for what would actually end up being. none of it ever came close to the way it happened when you finally met him. and now, after it’s all been said and done, you were left asking yourself one thing, and one thing only: “was it really worth all of this in the end?”

isn't it romantic by @jeonqkooks f s a

↬ Many things in life have a polar opposite: left and right, night and day, yin and yang, you and Min Yoongi... Hopeless romantic meets gloomy cynic. The only thing you seem to share is a magazine column but even then, you still can’t seem to understand how Yoongi can be called ‘The Love Doctor’ when he is the antithesis of everything love represents.

Flux by @yoonia f s a ft. jjk

↬ One of them is your longtime secret crush, while the other is the man with whom you had shared many heated nights filled with lust and forbidden desire, forever kept as your biggest secret of all time. You had sworn that those sinful nights would end, and that your secret crush would remain a secret. (poly au)

mean yoongi by @jjkpls f s

↬ Min Yoongi asks you to take care of his plants when he’s gone. It doesn’t go as planned and well, he has to deal with your misbehaving ass.

pretend by @gimmesumsuga s a

↬ “You know what they say: the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, right?” idol au infidelity

naughty little kitten by @jungkooksxo s a ft ksj

↬ Jin figures out that you’re super into the idea of Yoongi listening in on you two having sex. Yoongi is super into listening to you and Jin having sex. Jin invites Yoongi to come play with his naughty little kitten.

babydoll by @jungcock s a

↬ Your childhood crush, now famous and successful, comes to visit you while you’re drunk and have a lot to prove.

eleven months by @bratkook f s a

↬ it’s been years of yoongi living his routine life, accustomed to his pace of living, going with the flow and simply existing. until you come along. yoongi absolutely can not see the logic in the way you live, but he weirdly craves it. craves the feeling of not being afraid of not knowing what's coming, being able to just let the cards fall wherever they land. and maybe you can help with that.

pause by @whatifyoulivelikethat s a

↬ Life is like a cassette tape. It seems like it’s constantly repeating, flipped from side A to side B, and the songs can’t be skipped. You can only pause, rewind, fast forward, play after you’ve already heard the song. After you’ve already lived it. All Min Yoongi knows is his own tape, until it smashes right at his feet, and then he has to learn to dance to a different beat.

darksided by @eoieopda f s a

↬ It all started with a bad joke and a bottle of Tanqueray.

three squeezes by @nomnomsik s a ft jhs

↬ Yoongi is notorious for his grumpy and emotionless behavior as director of an upcoming company. Yet, it’s a mystery to everyone how manager Hoseok always seems to soften him up. The truth is that the two are actually engaged. Unknown to this fact, you happen to take an interest in Hoseok… and he does too. 

one-shot

bad decisions by @jjungkookislife f s

↬ Jimin is desperate to get his apartment back to himself. He’ll move hell and earth, and even drop to his knees to beg you to take his brother, Yoongi, out of his hands. Who are you to say no to that pretty face and sinister grin?  

breakfast in bed by @joonbird f s

↬ “Min Yoongi, a grumpy Ikea employee, is wondering who you are and why exactly you’re sleeping in the display bed at his Ikea.”

Tricks of the Trade by @stutterfly f s a

↬ The convenience store across the street from your apartment carries your favorite energy drink. That's why you frequent it. It's definitely not because you have a big fat crush on the owner you've been flirting with for the better part of a year. Of course your brand of flirting can also be misconstrued as bickering. When a strange man wanders into the store, he thinks you need a little nudge to embrace the strings connecting you. Next thing you know you're waking up in a body that definitely doesn't belong to you. You can't decide if it's the best or worst thing that's ever happened to you.

threads by @yoonia s a ft. knj

 ↬ Life is full of surprises, just like how people are full of secrets. Just when you had thought you have been lucky enough to have your life figured out, life decides to throw you a curve ball when you least expect it. And there is nothing you could do to avoid it, except to hope that you could hold your secrets as tightly as you possibly could before everything blows up into smithereens.

under the willow tree by @orchidyoonkook f a

↬ The town outcast shows up in the one place you find solace from it’s residents. The people you force yourself to fit in with, even though you never want to be anything like them. Will he ruin your only place of salvation, or become the most unlikely friend?

mami by kithtaehyung s ft. knj

↬ you somehow have a conversation with yoongi, and you tell your roommate about a date date.

the devil wears valentino by @orchidyoonkook f s a

↬ Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. 

angel by @sailoryooons f s

↬ Yoongi never meant to keep coming back. You never meant to become Yoongi’s favorite. Being Min Yoongi’s favorite has dire consequences

a boy like you by @cinnaminsvga f

↬ for whenever you are feeling low, always remember that there is a boy you know who would lift the sky for you. {or alternatively: Min Yoongi loves you, though he never says it. He’s always been a firm believer in that actions speak louder than any words ever could.}

last nite by @tayegi s a

↬ This is a zombie apocalypse AU based on The Walking Dead, The Stand, World War Z, and elements of Attack of Titan

zombie bites by @luffles424 f s a

↬ Your friends have always been willing to assist you when you need a model to practice makeup on. And with the upcoming zombie film on campus is no difference. But something feels different this time, can a zombie movie be more than just a zombie movie? 

heaven's winter by @jksangelic f s a

↬ your duty as the village daughter places you in line for the season’s Offering; a tradition not to tread lightly upon. as the snow falls slow and heavy, and the seraph awaits in the shallows of the mountain, you fail to realize what the winter has in store for you.

heavy sugar by @kinktae s

↬ The Roaring Twenties were a time of great economic wealth and social change. But beneath the jazz music and colorful speakeasies were mafia led organized crimes and bloodstained cash. You knew this well, but try as you might, you just couldn’t ignore the dark and enigmatic gangster whose eyes lingered on you from across the room.

all that holly, jolly shit by @daechwitatamic f s

↬You haven’t seen or heard from Yoongi since he broke your heart five years ago, laying out a logical list of reasons why you were better off breaking up. When a Christmas Eve blizzard traps you together for the night, you have no choice but to examine how few of those reasons are still true. And if they’re not… where does that leave you?

calling the shots by @chans-room f

↬ College basketball captain Yoongi

until death by @kpopfanfictrash s a

↬ Jade has always shaped the island of Kekon. Mined from the mountains, it enhances the abilities of Green Bone warriors who wear it and allows them protection from outside harm. No one understands these threats better than you do, second-in-command of the mighty No Peak clan.  When a new danger appears, seeming to come from within, everything you once took for granted is called into question. Including the bonds you’ve made, some more dangerous than the others. None more so than Min Yoongi, head of No Peak and the only one capable of destroying your heart.

whatta catch by @aredheadedmess f a

↬ One, two, three strikes you’re out. When opposing opinions find you roughing it up with the university’s star pitcher, he makes it his mission to show that you’re wrong about college sports—and maybe your feelings about the player himself.

shatter me, embrace me by @95rkives s

↬you longed for him, yearning for love, yet all that awaited you was heartbreak.

you're losing me by @/archivedkookie a

↬ ❝ He’s losing you, and yet, he lets the flower die in front of his eyes instead of doing everything to save it. Alternatively, Yoongi and you are losing your love toward each other. ❞

spotlight by @back2bluesidex f a

↬ No matter how much you run away from Yoongi, Yoongi always comes right back to you.

all the wrong places by @mrworldwideshoulders f a

↬ After getting separated from your friends during a night out, you get stuck with a hefty bill – one that you can’t pay. So when a handsome, emotionless stranger covers your tab in a random act of kindness, you’re determined to track him down and pay him back. inspired by 24K Magic by Bruno Mars.

now we reign by @/oddinary4bts f s a

↬ when working on a collab together makes you and Min Yoongi seek comfort with the other, you discover there’s more to life than loneliness. Only, hurdles mark your path in Min Yoongi’s life, and it’s unclear what the outcome will be. Will you be destroyed by him and his world, or will you learn to reign over it, together with him?

stay by sugarwithtea f s a

↬ what happens when you get stranded in a remote town with no place to live except for a lodge owned by a dangerously handsome but annoying man? yeah, a lot.

when the stars align by @itskimtaehyung f

↬ With cuffing season approaching its end, you thought you had escaped the pressures of finding a boyfriend for the holidays. That is, until your friends set you up on a blind date that goes horribly wrong. This prompts you to enlist the help of your roommate, Yoongi, to fake a relationship so your friends will stop meddling in your love life. And it turns out Yoongi is a lot better at this romance thing than you originally thought...

egotstic by @pasteljeon s a ft. knj

↬ The timing was never right. He loved you when you were kids, knees scraped and cheeks red. You loved him when pimples bloomed across his skin, voice cracking and he found solace in the scribbled lines in his notebook. The stars never seemed to align for the two of you, but perhaps it was because you were meant for someone else.

on the court by @centerhaechan f

↬ As captain of your school's winning women's basketball team, it is only understood that you despise the men's basketball team and their captain. Your main rival, Min Yoongi, enjoys testing your patience while he attempts to lead his own team to a championship victory. Your coaches believe you both have problems with teamwork, and insist that working together will produce a promising solution.

sugar by @zehakoo f s

↬ desperately in need of sugar to make coffee in order to ease down your headache, you find yourself knocking on a strangers door who happens to be your best friend’s friend and the finest man you’ve ever encountered.

from the ashes by @fortunexkookie s a

↬ Someone is sobbing ugly, wrecked sounds that shatter the silence in the room. You need them to stop; it’s distracting and you need to focus. You need to clean the ash from his skin. You need to comb the knots from his hair. You need to dress his beautiful body in something befitting the king you know he is… but the sobbing is too loud, and your vision is blurry. It takes Yoongi wiping your tears away for you to realize that the gasping cries echoing off the stone are coming from you.

the dark by @/bratkook s

↬ your small town thrives on the occult, luring tourists in with endless themed festivities, but the only place you’re determined to see is the mysterious club that comes to life the week before Halloween. what makes The Dark so exclusive, and what secrets are they hiding behind closed doors?

Triplicity by @kainks ft. jhs

↬ Distance is a cruel thing, and when you find yourself going astray, they are there to help remind you of just where exactly you belong.

fermata by @jeongi f s

↬ fer·ma·ta: from fermare, it means to stay or to stop. min yoongi teaches you exactly how to let go.

private lessons by @dntaewithluv f s

↬ Your little sister finds it odd how you’ve been taking private lessons from her piano teacher for over a month now, but she hasn’t heard you actually play even once…

first love by @geniuslab f s a

↬You learn a lot of new things in your first year of university, including what it feels like to fall in love.

↬looking for other myg fics or the other bts members check out my library

[kingdomaddiction]

I've been thinking in a Cumplane friendship idea.--

You see, everyone seems to believe SQQ and SQH can't stand each other. Quite the opposite, really. When it's only the two of them they don't feel the need to keep up the pretence. It's so easy to relax, to put the mask aside.

They aren't peak lords nor cultivators. They're just two dudes in their mid tweenties trying to survive in this forsaken world.

SY knows he might not be the kindest nor the most loving of friends, (he spent so many years alone in a cold, hospital room, he's not good at socializing) but he does care for Airplane. A lot. He will never say it out loud because it's embarrasing but that stupid author is his best friend.

So, that's why when the news of Qinghua's disappearance finally reach him (two weeks, it took two full weeks before someone decided to tell him--- )they absolutely destroys him.

He seems calm at fisrt. Not truly procesing the news. LBG makes a few comments about something Mobei told him (you fucking knew and didn't tell me, how dare you, husband?! )

Gone, SQH? No, that's dumb. He couldn't be gone. He's a peak lord, he has responsabilities, a bunch of little ones to teach. He even takes care of the north. And most importantly why would he leave Mobei? It makes no sense, not fucking sense.

SQH wouldn't leave like that. He... he wouldn't leave SY behind.

He can feel sob building up in his throat. That... stupid, idiot--HACK AUTHOR!

His crying fit is so strong and sudden that sends LBG and his whole demon staff into a panic.

"Shizun?!" He says looking for visible injuries-

"Don't touch me!" He screams and LBG looks at him with hurt.

"Husband? Have... have this disciple done something wrong?"

SQQ just turns and walks to his chambers ordering LBG not to follow him. His husband is left feeling distressed and cries for very different reasons.

Later that night they talk. SQQ feeling tired and sad finally calls for his husband to comfort him. He explains to him why he is angry at him and LBG apologizes.

"This one thought you hated Shang-shibo and that Shizun wouldn't care about his dissapereance." He says in a small, careful voice. "Mobei jun came to the palace days ago to beg for help in his search... "

"You turned him away... " SY says, sounding very tired.

"Yes. But this husband will make it right, Shizun. I will find your friend for you, promise."

SY sighs and hugs his husband, hiding his face in his chest.

..

Idk 'm all over the place but the idea is that the system is glitching and took SQH and is kind of keeping him hostage? Like, in between worlds. Not the mordern universe, not PIDW.

I imagine LBG having a very hard time accepting his shizun worries and loves others and not just him (??? why??? I'm more than enough you need NO ONE else shizun). He's too possesive and would like very much just to lock his shizun away, but that would break him and he never wants to see him cry like that ever again. Even if that means he has to share his attention.

MBJ is very broken in this one fiding himself lost without SQH. they had just finally stablished their relationship so he's between angry and scared. Also his trust and loyalty to LBG has taken a blown since he refused to help him find his lover. Didn't he help LBG when everyone turned his back on him as he clinged to his dead shizun's body?

While they work together (before they can even figure out where sqh is) LBG slowly realizes he might have fucked up a bit and ??? misses Mobei ??? are they friends???!!

SY tries his fucking best to keep it together. Really, he loves Binghe but that man can be so dense.

They find where SQH is being kept. The place is like a limbo. Cold, and vast where no time passes. In order to get him back LBG, MBJ and SQQ work together to reforge Xin Mo and travel there. There's a cool fighting montage, tears, hugs and everyone is happy at the end

Yeah that's all i got so far. I'll be going back to work now--

[tiyawnyana]

Hi. I saw u have requests open and i wanna request Vander x neutral reader making outtt …. maybe perhaps :] have an awesome day

Lowkey adored this- had so much fun writing for younger Vander since I've been dying to oop

A/N: i headcannon that Vander was a FLIRT when he was younger bc look at that man and tell me he doesn't know he's a hunk

Characters: Younger! Vander x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: slowish build up, making out, maybe a teensy bit ooc but honestly? No i think he was a flirt

Children DNI

-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

Vodka Tonic

You had met Silco down in the mines originally, you were lost and he had helped you find the rest of the group.

That same evening, he had invited you out to have drinks with he and his friends.

That's where you met sweet Felicia, with her soft voice and cute dances, and Vander.

Vander, all muscle and large and gorgeous. Smooth, deep voice, that quite honestly could lull you to sleep.

"Got yourself a buddy now, aye Silco?" He has said eyeing you for a moment.

"Found him down in my section of the mines," Silco nods, patting your back.

You nodded weakly, a slightly strained smile on your lips as you wave awkwardly.

Felicia paid it no mind, smiling all too friendly at you as you walk in behind Silco.

"What's your poison?" Vander had asked, and you quirked a brow in question.

He lifts a bottle of liquor wordlessly with a faint smirk.

"Oh! Oh- uh," you think for a moment,"Vodka tonic," you managed to murmur under his curious gaze.

He nods with that same smirk,"You're after my own heart," he had stated, turning to make the drink.

Your cheeks warmed much to your dismay before shaking your head quickly.

You attempted to make conversation, but ended up just listening to Felicia talked about, well, whatever she was talking about.

You couldn't get your eyes off of Vander.

Vander with those thick arms. Vander with his gorgeous eyes. Fuck.

Over time, your presence became a constant. You had cooled yourself down, insisting that Vander wouldn't take interest, you were Silco's friend. Therefore, Vander's friend.

Until you found yourself alone in their little apartment with none other than Vander- Felicia wasn't feeling too hot and Silco.. well, Silco just sometimes disappeared, figuring out work or other things alike.

You almost left, feeling awkward and bumbling out apologies but Vander patted your back. Kind as ever. Insisting you stay and have another one of his drinks like any other night.

"C'mon, I don't bite," he has teased with a smirk,"Hard-"

The last part was muttered as he turned around to walk over to their liquor cabinet, and you did a double take, not believe he had said it.

You let a snicker tumble out and Vander grins over at you, relieved that his joke stuck.

The night had been... surprisingly nice.

He had joined you this time, nursing his own vodka tonic as he sat beside you at their little bar.

He asked about you. Your childhood, your upbringing. Turns out you had basically grown up of opposite sides of the Lanes, just associating with different kids and teens.

Vander kept eye contact, listening with his entire being as he cracked jokes or laughed about something you said.

You had ended up entirely too drunk, leaning against the bar and blatantly flirting with him.

Your cheeks were rosy, and Vander was chuckling as you complimented his eyes.

"You're drunk," he laughs, patting your knee.

"Doesn't take away the fact that you're handsome," you drunkenly chuckled.

"I'll take you seriously when you're able to tell me sober," Vander fixes you with a teasing pointed look as he stands. He stretches, a little sliver of his lower stomach showing as his shirt lifts before he's grasping your elbow and helping you up,"You can crash here for the night, can't have ya leavin' like this."

"Oh- it's okay, I've been piss drunk and made it home," a lie,"I'm fine-"

Vander doesn't say anything besides another pointed look, not leaving you any room for argument.

You grumble beneath your breath before being dragged off to a small room with an old, worn mattress.

He's quiet and it's almost serene. Intimate, even, when Vander hands you one of his worn shirts to wear for the night.

Laying in Vanders bed- alone, wearing his shirt, gazing up the ceiling as your vision swirls about gives you ample time to fantasize about the man currently crashing on the small couch out in the living/dining/main area.

The next day, you had woke with a shock, a thumping ache in your head as you sit up with a groan.

The sound and smell of food has your stomach rumbling.

You rub the sleep from your eyes as you step out of the room to be greeted with Felicia animatedly chatting away with Vander who seems to be cooking up some breakfast- eggs and bacon?

Felicia must have heard you, eyebrow raised as she turns before smiling in delight as she calls your name with a side hug.

"I'm sorry- feeling a little sick-ish, didn't want to give ya any illness," she suddenly smirks as she eyes the shirt you're wearing,"Nice shirt."

You look down in confusion before the memories of the night before rush to the surface, a hot blush of embarrassment covering your cheeks.

"Oh- um," you clear your throat before grinning sheepishly,"Thanks."

You watch Felicia wander into Vander's view and smirk at him as if she knows something.

You idly stand there for a moment before deciding to sit, feeling woozy.

You lean forward, elbows on your knees as you rub at your temples while willing yourself not to dart out of the small apartment.

Vander wanders over, old socks coming into view as he places a plate of breakfast on the small table.

He crouches before you as you lean back in surprise,"Got a headache, aye?"

He's there- unbelievably kind eyes peering at you as he hands you a glass of water.

"Yeah," you murmur, taking the glass with a thankful albeit awkward smile.

He stands, going back to the food and asks Felicia if she wants any before she's declining with a smirk, taking her leave.

After a moment, Vander comes back, pulling a small stool up to sit across from you with his plate in hand. It's almost comical, the stool is so small beneath him and the plate looks equally small.

"Food will help," he hands you a fork.

You take it, nodding in thanks as you begin to eat quietly.

You find your gaze trailing over to him as you both eat, quickly averting them when he looks back at you.

He carefully takes the plate from your hands when you're done, going back to the sink to clean them off.

You're moving to the bedroom to fetch your shirt, carefully folding Vanders as you step back out.

"I'm.. gonna go," you murmur awkwardly,"Got a shift down at the mines at noon."

Vander swings his rag up onto his shoulder after drying his hands, turning to look at you and leaning against the sink.

He eyes you for a moment, taking in your awkward fidgeting as you hold his shirt.

"Please don't... feel awkward about last night," he reassures carefully,"You were drunk. We can.. chalk it up to that."

You swallow thickly, nodding in embarrassment.

Taking your leave was even more awkward, somehow; placing his shirt down on the small table before nearly darting out, as if your tail were between your legs.

A week passes. Silco grows annoyed with you as you respectfully decline his invites to Vanders and his place.

You throw yourself into work, working longer hours until you hit a pipe, a burst of the grey shooting straight into your lungs.

You're dragged out of the mines, told you're to rest and take a few days, much to your dismay.

Silco hears of it, meeting you on the surface and scolding you.

On the second day of rest, Silco finds you at your dingy apartment, dragging you out and ignoring your groans and before you know it, you're at a bar.

The Last Drop.

You don't recognize it, finding it brand new and nearly empty, save for Felicia and Vander who converse at the back of the building by the bar.

"Hey!" Felicia waves to you both with a grin, patting your arm with a softer smile,"I heard what happened in the mines, I'm glad you're okay!"

Vander looks over at you, surprised to see you after a little over a week of nothing.

You're sheepish under his gaze, embarrassment written on your face.

"Glad you're alright," he says softly.

Felicia talks about her job, groaning about her sector of the mines while cooing about her spouse. Silco remains quiet as usual, writing into his journal and sipping the whiskey Vander had poured for him.

Wordlessly, Vander places a glass in front of you. Vodka tonic.

"Thank you-" you manage to say genuinely.

He smiles and nods at you, turning back to listen to Felicia.

After a little while of nursing your drink, Felicia yawns, stretching her arms above her head before side eyeing you, then Vander.

"Silco- can you walk me down to the Lanes? Connol works later at the mines tonight," she murmurs with a pointed look.

Silco looks at her in confusion before something dawns on him, nodding as he downs his drink and closes his journal.

Felicia kisses you on the cheek, bidding a Goodnight as she leaves with Silco.

You open your mouth, preparing to leave too- until another glass is placed in front of you.

It's not a vodka tonic, much to your surprise.

You look up at Vander in confusion, shock wracking your belly as he leans closer to you from across the bar.

"Try it," he nods to the drink.

You hesitate before shrugging, surprised at the taste- warm and light, a drink you're unfamiliar with.

"That's my favorite drink," Vander murmurs, eyeing you carefully.

You raise a brow,"Thought vodka tonics were your favorite."

Vander smirks slightly,"They're... good, but not my favorite."

You hum in response and he continues before you can say anything.

"Said it was my favorite to connect with you," he says that softer, turning to grab another glass and pours himself a cup, ending up with a vodka tonic.

Your eyes widen slightly in confusion,"wh- huh? Why?"

He fixes his gaze on you again then walks around the side of the bar to sit on the stool beside you.

His thigh brushes against yours as he settles in, resting his elbows on the bartop.

He sighs, shrugs, lifting his drinks and sipping it as he side eyes you.

Your cheeks warm, a feeling of almost hope bubbling up beneath the surface. You don't dare say anything.

"I told you- that night- that I'll take you seriously if you tell me sober," he murmurs, eyes locked onto his glass.

You clear your throat,"Yeah- I remember.."

He only gives you a narrowed look as he turns to face you. His thighs frame yours as he turns you in the stool to face him.

"Well?" He smirks.

You narrow your gaze in disbelief.

Curse Vander and his kind eyes, his gorgeous face and large hands that now hold a soft grip over your knee.

You swallow thickly, cheeks reddening.

"I- uh.." you struggle to speak, laughing in surprise,"Wha-at is happening-?"

Vander just gazes at you wordlessly, a faint smirk on his lips.

You're unable to speak- wishing you could form the words that you know you said when drunk-

Luckily, it seems Vander understands your trouble.

Suddenly, he's lifting his hand towards your face. You flinch slightly, and you don't miss the hesitation in his eyes but he licks his lower lip as he gently cups your cheek.

"Easy," he murmurs as he carefully tugs you closer, free hand taking your clenched one off your thigh and thumbing your fist open, thumb rubbing your palm soothingly.

"Vander-"

"Tell me to stop," he locks his eyes on yours, waiting.

You don't say anything, your eyes flicking down to his mouth before trailing back up to his eyes.

He smirks. Then leans in, slotting his lips over yours.

This kiss is awkward, initially. You're stiff, surprised and still in complete disbelief.

Vander pulls back to look at you, taking in your flushed cheeks and lidded gaze.

He brushes a strand of hair from your forehead. His palm moves down from your cheek to the side of your neck, thumb brushing over your pulse point and that smirk returns as he feels your heartrate.

"You alright?" He murmurs, gaze flicking back down to your lips.

You lick them, nodding quickly before moving closer, nose brushing against his as you begin to breathe the same air.

He chuckles and fuck, it's attractive, but he finally presses his lips against yours again.

You sigh into him, nerves rattling into your bones but he feels good.

Vander leads the kiss, gentle and sweet, typical.

His thumb moves to your jaw, pressing slightly to silently tell you- open up.

You listen- mouth opening just enough for him to press his tongue in.

"Nnh-" you hum softly, shivers rolling down your spine as his tongue tangles with yours.

You're almost squirming in the barstool. Free hand clenched into a fist perched on your thigh, other in Vanders grasp. Spine straightening then slouching.

Vander sighs into you, turning your head slightly to kiss you deeper. A low moan escapes your mouth and you almost pull back out of embarrassment but he hums a 'no,' refusing to stop kissing you.

You lean closer, unclenching your free hand and placing it on his thigh.

He releases your hand, now carefully gripping your thigh, thumb rubbing back and forth higher up. A tingle blossoms in your belly- dozens of butterflies spawning in as Vander groans into your mouth, panting softly. He pulls back for a split second, just to tilt your head the other way and he's back to pressing his tongue into your mouth.

You inch closer, hand rising up on his thigh with a surprised moan as he nips your lower lip-

Suddenly the barstool wobbles and you yelp, pulling back from the kiss and he grasps your elbow, stabilizing you.

You gaze at him- your lips tingling and breathing slightly ragged. You manage a soft laugh, tilting your head forward and leaning against his shoulder to cover your blush.

He cups the side of your neck, urging you back with a fond smile.

"Want to crash here tonight?" He asks softly, gaze lingering on your eyes.

You peer up at him before returning his soft smile with a nod,"I'd like that."

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A/N: yippeeee!!! Lmk if you wanna be added to my tag list :)