#i really like this fic so i hope you guys enjoy

[bapeach]

Accidental love

Another long fic and I'm honestly very proud of it! I don't know anything about torn ACL's or anything so if stuff is wrong, just ignore it. I hope you enjoy! Constructive criticism is always welcome :D Find my masterlist here :) Pairing(s): Paige Bueckers x female!reader  Word count: 9.1k+  Warnings: depression, life-changing accident, cursing, happy ending Summary: After a life-changing accident, Y/N finds peace in her new life, but when Paige Bueckers faces her own injury, their worlds collide. ------------

Paige Bueckers

Of course, it was a name you knew. You’re a student at UConn, so if you didn’t know of her, well, you’d be living under a rock. Paige Bueckers is UConn’s star player. The golden student. The future of women’s basketball. A legend in the making… 

You could go on and on about the things you’ve heard about her. She always seemed to be present in your life in one way or another. A mumble in the hallway as you go to class, an edit on your TikTok fyp, a celebration post on UConn’s Instagram page…

You don’t know the girl personally, having only been in the same room as her a few times when you went and watched some of her games. You’ve heard a lot of good things about her. You respected her grind, the way she gave her all to basketball and was a great team leader. You’ve also heard she’s a sweetheart off the court and always tries to make people comfortable. She’s also really pretty, which you’re sure is a contributing factor to why she’s so loved. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course. 

You’d had your own fair share of admirers because of your looks. You’d caught plenty of girls fawning over you as they ogled your muscles, giggling when you sent them a flirty wink. If you were honest, you were quite the player when you first came to university. You’d messed around with a few girls, never really getting into anything too serious. 

You just didn’t have time for relationships. You were too busy studying biomedical engineering while also having a job and hobbies. And boy, did you have hobbies. Ever since you were young, you were a very active kid. Your parents always had to beg you to come inside, only being able to persuade you with promises of weekends at the indoor playground/kid gym.

Growing up, you stayed active. You went for a run every morning and swimming at least once a week. You didn’t join your school’s sports teams because how could you only choose one? You spend every weekend doing a different sport until you run out, only to start over. Basketball, boxing, soccer, baseball, hockey... you did it all. Your all-time favorite, though? Rock climbing.

You think there’s nothing better in this world than rock climbing after a long week. Wind ruffling your hair as the bright sun shines on your back. Climbing as high as you can, your muscles burning as you strain them to their limit, your chest tight as you gasp for breath. But it’s all worth it, because in the end, when you reach the top and have a full view of the horizon? It feels like you’re on top of the world. Like you’re untouchable and all your hopes and dreams are within reach.

The thought of climbing always filled you with warmth and excitement. Even after climbing the same rocks over and over, you still felt in awe every time you made it to the top. Knowing that no matter what, at the end of the day, you could always count on the dusty stones beneath your fingertips always made a smile grow on your face. 

Well. That was before the accident, at least. Now the thought of it makes you feel a dull throb in your chest. 

The last time you went climbing, you’d gone with some fellow enthusiasts. It was a group of strangers you’d met at the indoor climbing hall. Their little club ranged from new climbers to experts, and you’d clicked with them immediately. The guide you went with was a middle-aged man who had over 20 years of experience, so you were excited to maybe learn some new things. He was a really nice guy, happy to see someone your age be so excited about his favorite activity. When you partnered up with him, you didn’t expect anything to go wrong. Daredevils like yourself never really think too much about the consequences of your actions or things that could go wrong, otherwise you’d be too afraid to do half of the things you do. So that day was like no other. At first at least.

When you had reached 3/4ths of the climb, it happened. Even now, 2 years later, you’re not sure what exactly happened. You only know that one moment you were gripping onto the rocky wall and the next you were falling. When you think about it, it all feels like a dream. It didn’t take you long before you hit the ground, but it somehow felt like ages.

You remember how distraught your guide was when you finally woke up in the hospital. You didn’t understand anything he was saying at first. He was crying too hard, stumbling over his words as he kept apologizing. Something about malfunctioning equipment? 

When the doctor walked in, you immediately knew something was very wrong. Your chest filled with an unbearable ache when you saw the sad frown on his face. After that, everything is pretty much a blur. You didn't hear anything after the words “paralyzed” and “never walk again” were spoken. Everything became muffled as your ears started buzzing. You felt your chest tighten, and this time not in a good way. You were drowning on dry land.

The next months were some of the darkest moments of your life. You felt like your world was ending. And it kind of was. Everything you thought you were, gone in a matter of seconds. Bound to a wheelchair for the rest of your life. You shut everyone out at first, but soon realized you couldn’t bear all of this alone. Your family was your greatest support. They were your greatest fans, always celebrating your wins, and now they were here to mourn your greatest losses with you as well. 

You lost quite a lot of friends after the accident. It was hard being friends with your sporty friends when you could only think about how you wished you could join them. Your friendships didn’t all end on a bad note, though. You knew that if anything was wrong, you could still call them, and they’d show up in a heartbeat. 

You also gained a few friendships. Some people you met at therapy, support groups, online forums,... You also found a friend in the guide you were with that day. While you hated him at first, too filled with pain to think clearly, you’d talked to him at a later point. He apologized profusely once more, but you forgave him quickly. It’s not like it was his fault. Besides, it was hard to hate him, the way he looked at you with so much guilt. He had kind but wise eyes, prominent smile lines, and his hair was graying a little, but he was still full of life and filled with passion. You knew this accident would haunt him for the rest of his life, and he didn’t deserve that, so you made sure to stay in touch with him. If only to let him know you were doing well and make sure he was too.

You still often think about the days when you could be wild and free. In the two years since the incident, you’ve changed a lot. You’ve calmed down greatly, becoming a lot more mature and wise. While you used to be the go-to friend for a crazy time, you were now the friend people came to for advice. You missed your younger self, but still felt like she was a part of you. You’d gone through so much, the change was only natural. And honestly? You were proud of the person you’d become. Sure, you weren’t perfect and still had your days when you felt like you couldn’t breathe and like the world was against you. But overall, you were at peace with your life. It’s also not like you’d fully lost your playful self. You still loved teasing your friends, pulling pranks, and causing mischief.

So yeah, while you didn’t know Paige personally, you definitely felt like you knew a lot about her from the media, the people around you, and even some of her friends. You’d met Azzi a year ago when she got injured during a game. She’d been destroyed when she realized she wouldn’t be playing again any time soon. Having to find something new to do, she’d made her way to the library, where she bumped into you. You started talking, and before long you two became pretty good friends. You listened to her situation and told her what you’d been through. 

At first, she’d apologized profusely, feeling bad about how she complained about not being able to play for a few months while you’d never get to do your favorite things ever again. You’d made sure the younger girl knew it was okay, and that you didn’t want her to feel like she couldn’t be upset just because you’d also gone through something. You’d spent hours with the girl talking about the adventures you used to go on and how much your life had changed. You made sure to tell her how happy you were despite everything, letting her know that no matter what, she’d be okay. 

While you don’t talk as much as you used to anymore, now that she’s back on the court, you still text each other every so often, smiling as you pass each other on campus. You didn’t blame her for becoming busy, you were excited to see her play with that bright smile on her face. You made sure to cheer her on and text her congratulations on her wins and “You did well” messages when the team lost. The girl appreciates you more than you know. Without you, she wouldn’t be where she is now. She’d learned so much from you.

Somehow, during your whole friendship, you’d never really met the team. Not that you really felt the need to. She had her friends, and you had yours. There was no need to mix up the groups. That being said, you didn’t really think you’d ever meet Paige or become close with her.

You were curious, though. As you wheel out of the library, you hear Paige’s name all around you. Two girls leaning in close as one gasps her name. A group of guys with their mouths dropped open as a video on their phone says the star athlete’s name. A professor walking past with a frown, mumbling, “... yeah, Paige Bueckers…”. 

When you reach your dorm, you open your laptop and search “Paige Bueckers” on Twitter. You immediately feel a pit in your stomach. The first tweet you see is a video with the caption “I’m gonna cry, I feel so bad for her”. You click the video and see why the basketball player was being talked about everywhere. At first, it looks like a normal clip from their most recent game. You see Nika passing the ball to Aaliyah, who passes it to a sprinting Azzi, who finally passes it off to Paige. You blink, and suddenly the blonde is on the floor, clutching her knee as tears stream down her face. You can see the worry and fear on her teammates’ faces, and the distraught but knowing look on Paige’s. A torn ACL. No doubt about it.

For a moment, your own accident flashes in your mind. The weightlessness as you were falling. Waking up and realizing you can’t move. You shake away the thoughts, blinking the haze from your eyes. You grab your phone to text the girl something, anything to make her feel better, but you pause. Right now, the last thing she’ll care about is a stranger texting her she’ll be okay when they probably don’t have any idea what she’s going through. Your thumb hovers over Azzi’s contact, but you end up closing the app. The brunette is probably too busy to talk, being too worried about her best friend. “I’ll talk to her soon,” you think to yourself before going on about your day.

You were right about talking to her soon. Only a week after the latest UConn tragedy, you see her. You were tucked away in your favorite corner of the library, a worn copy of your favorite book lying in your lap. You were surrounded by colorful pens, post-its, stickers, and tabs as you added new scribbles in the margins of the book (don’t worry, you’d gotten your own copy after the first time you read it).

Finishing a tiny doodle on the inside of the cover, you look up and see the younger girl. Beaming that wide smile of hers that could light up a dark room. The type of smile that makes you return the gesture before you even realize what’s happening. When she reaches your table, she greets you happily before looking back. It’s only then that you realize she’s brought company.

There she is. UConn’s basketball miracle in all her glory. Paige Bueckers. 

You look her up and down. She’s wearing her blue UConn tracksuit, her hair is in a bun, and she’s holding two crutches under her arms. Her usually bright blue eyes have become a darker color as a frown is set on her face. She didn’t want to be there, she wanted to be in her room, wallowing in her bed with a pint of ice cream. She doesn’t understand why Azzi felt the need to drag her out of the comfort of her own dorm to go meet some stranger that would give her the same stupid pitying looks she’d been getting from everyone around her. 

“Hey Ace,” you send her a grin before looking back towards the injured girl. “Hey, I’m Y/N,” you nod at her. She only frowns at you until Azzi turns and sends her a pointed look. “Paige,” the blonde sighs. You hide your amused smile, knowing she’d get even more annoyed if she thought you were making fun of her. 

“I figured it was finally time some of my favorite people met!” the brunette beams. When you catch her eye, you have a silent conversation with her. You knew why she was here with Paige. She was hoping you’d be able to help her best friend the way you’d helped her. You can tell by Azzi’s body language that she’s slightly on edge, not sure how you’d react. You send her a reassuring wink as you start talking, “About time! I’ve heard a lot about you, Paige,” you say gently. The girl only hums in response. 

You see Azzi frown for a second before her signature easy smile makes its way back to her face. “I was thinking we could all go for coffee,” she says, looking at you with hope in her eyes. “Sounds good to me!” you grin as you start packing up your stuff. Once you’re done, you glance over at Paige, who is looking around with a bored expression. You’re not offended at her not wanting to spend time with you. You knew what it was like to feel your world crash, and you’d also tried pushing people away. The blonde maybe didn’t want to be around you right now, but you’d make sure she realized that she’d be okay.

You put your bag on your lap before wheeling your way around the table so you could be right beside the basketball players. You see Paige’s eyes widen as she takes you in, only now having realized you were in a wheelchair. You let her observe you for a moment, seeing her emotions swim in her eyes. You could tell she was shocked and a bit embarrassed, but you also saw her frustrations as she clenched her jaw and started frowning again. “So that’s why Azzi wanted me to meet her. Just so she could tell me that whatever I’m going through is nothing compared to what she has to live with,” Paige thinks as she tries not to roll her eyes. 

You simply send her a smile. You don’t mind the anger that seems to radiate off of the girl. You know she’ll probably say and do stuff she doesn’t mean in rage, and you don’t mind being the person all that fury is aimed at. You know that at the end of the day, she won’t mean any of it, and you’d rather she tries to hurt your feelings than her sunshine best friend.

“Let’s go then, shall we?” you say with a raised brow and a tiny smirk before you start wheeling away. You lead the way through campus to your favorite coffee shop, making small talk with Azzi. You try to include Paige as well, but you don’t talk to her all that much, not wanting to overwhelm her. When you arrive at the shop, the brunette holds the door for you and Paige with a smile, her eyes twinkling. You thank her before following the blonde in. 

“Your usual?” Azzi asks as she walks in behind you. “Yes please, thanks Princess,” you say with a playful wink, a wide grin on your face. The brunette shakes her head in amusement, her eyes crinkling as she smiles. You make your way towards a free table in the back, waving hi to the barista that always calls you his favorite regular. Paige follows not long after, while Azzi waits in line to order the drinks. Once Paige sits down with a huff, slightly out of breath as she rubs the spots where she leaned against the crutches, you don’t say anything at first. The silence isn’t exactly fun, but it’s not a bad silence either.

When your friend makes her way to your table, you smile softly at her as you accept your drink. “Thanks, Ace.” “Of course,” she replies, her voice soft. She looks over at Paige for a moment before clearing her throat. “Listen, P, I know you’re hurting. Not just physically but mentally too. And I know how you feel like it’s the end of the world, but I promise you, it’s not. When I went through my injury and couldn’t play, I spiraled too. But then I met Y/N, and she made me realize that everything would be okay. I know you’re not happy about being here, and I don’t want you to feel like you’re not allowed to be sad, but please just… talk to her. Y/N is an amazing friend to have, not just because she knows what it’s like to lose stuff, but just because she listens. She really listens, and she has a way of making you feel a little lighter on days when things seem impossible.” 

You look at her as she’s speaking, your smile soft as your chest feels warm. It was nice to hear her say such sweet things about you and trust that you’ll be able to help someone else she cares so much about. 

Azzi turns to you before continuing. “And Y/N, please don’t think we’re only here because I want you to help P. I’ve always wanted to introduce you two. I feel like you two could be great friends!” You lean over to grab her hand and give it a little squeeze. Of course, to anyone else it might’ve looked weird, the way you and Azzi hadn’t spoken in a while, and she only seemed to come back to you for help. You knew that wasn’t the case, though. The brunette was the definition of kindness. I mean, she has the nickname “The People’s Princess” for a reason. You didn’t feel offended at all, knowing this only proved how much she trusted you and how much you’d helped her in the past.

Paige’s jaw stays clenched a little longer, her brows furrowed. “I don’t need her help. I don’t need anyone’s help,” she thinks angrily to herself. When she looks up at her best friend, however, she falters. She knows Azzi doesn’t have a bad bone in her body. “I guess… if Azzi speaks this highly of her, then… she can’t be that bad.” You see her soften as she gives the brunette a soft nod. She turns to you, sighing softly before giving you a tentative smile. You grin at her as mischief swirls in your eyes. “Yeah, we’re gonna work out just fine,” you think.

As you drink your coffee, you talk about everything that’s been happening in your life lately, asking Azzi for details on what she’s been up to since you last talked. You make sure to ask Paige questions too, getting to know her more as well. You keep the conversation away from basketball or your own accident. There was a time and place for that conversation, and it wasn’t here and now. 

You stay in the coffee shop for hours, just chatting about everything and nothing. You manage to make both girls laugh a lot, one time even making Paige laugh so hard, her coffee comes out of her nose. She’d looked pretty embarrassed, her face turning a bright red, but she couldn’t wipe the smile off of her face. 

You’re in the middle of telling Paige a story about something you and Azzi had done a few months ago when the brunette’s phone went off. You pause your conversation as you look at her with a raised eyebrow. “Oh shoot! I gotta go, uh, do you guys mind if I head out?” she rambles, already getting up. You look at Paige, who’s already looking at you. You grin at each other before turning to Azzi. “Don’t worry, we’ll play nice,” you smirk. 

Once the brunette leaves, you think for a moment Paige will go back to her quiet self, but you’re wrong. “So? What happened next?” she asks, her eyes wide in a childlike wonder. Warmth blossoms in your chest. The people weren’t wrong when they praised the type of person the star athlete is. She was sweet, paid full attention to what you were saying at all times, and she was funny as hell. 

You continue the story, making the blonde chuckle and shake her head in disbelief. “There’s just no way Azzi did that.” You shrug with a smirk, “It’s all true.” She looks at you a little longer, eyes squinted, as she tries to find out if you're lying. When she realizes you’re not, she chuckles again as she leans back. 

You continue to look at her and notice her demeanor change. Her smile slowly leaves her face as her body becomes tense again. Somehow you’d managed to not make her think about basketball or her injury the whole time you were at the coffee shop, but now it seemed to all come back in one big wave. 

She frowns, leaning forward as she hesitantly meets your eye. “So… Are you finally gonna tell me to just suck it up and stop moping about my knee? Because at least there’s a chance I’ll still be able to play?”

You look at her for a moment. “Nope.” You push away from the table as you start rolling your wheelchair to the door. “W-Wait, what?” You hear Paige stutter, her chair screeching from how hard she scoots it away from the table. You grin, hearing the clattering behind you as the blonde struggles to grab her crutches to follow you. You thank the girl holding the door open for you as you roll into the warm afternoon sun. Paige huffs as she finally reaches you, a frown on her face. You can tell she’s not really upset, though, the way her lips are curling into a small smile.

“Come on, I’ll walk you to your dorm… well… wheel you to your dorm…? Wheel to your dorm as you hobble along…?” Your eyebrows are furrowed as you rub your chin, trying to find the right wording. You hear Paige snort beside you as she starts moving. “Oh my god, bro, just shut up.” 

You stick your tongue out in response before speeding up a bit to match her pace. You two don’t talk for a moment, enjoying the nice breeze as birds whistle around you. “I had fun with you today, Paige,” you smile up at the girl. She smiles back at you. “I had fun with you too… I’m sorry for how I acted earlier, it’s just… it’s been really hard,” the frown from earlier makes its way back onto her face.

“Don’t worry about it, P,” you say with a smile. The girl returns the gesture, hearing you call her her nickname. “So uhh, you don’t want to tell, y'know, all that stuff about how it’ll all be okay?” She asks hesitantly. “Would you believe me if I did?” You ask without any judgment in your voice. “I’m not sure… probably not,” she says as she looks over sheepishly. “Then there wouldn’t be any point to it, would there?” You tease. 

She looks back ahead of her, but you stare a little longer. “I’ll tell you about my accident some day, but not right now. I don’t wanna tell you and have you just end up feeling bad, y’know? We had a good day, let’s not ruin it with my sob story,” you grin as you send her a wink.

Once you reach the blonde’s dorm, she looks at you with reluctant eyes. She doesn’t want to say goodbye just yet. “Give me your number, we’ll text,” you demand, not really giving her a chance to say no, but you both know she wouldn’t. You see her relax a little as she hands you her phone. Once you’ve put your number in and added a cheeky contact name, you give her back her phone. 

“Text me, alright? I know where you live now, so if you don’t, I’ll come find you,” you say with a teasing wink. “Yes, ma’am,” she grins. You two say your goodbyes before you make your way to your own dorm. You haven’t even made it out of the basketball player’s hallway before you hear your phone ding. Your stomach flutters and your chest feels warm. You were excited about your new friendship and were looking forward to getting to know the legendary player on a deeper level. 

Over the following weeks, you two continue to text every day, hanging out in the coffee shop a few more times too. Sometimes Azzi joins you, but more often than not, it’s just the two of you. You learn more about Paige’s family and friends and how life was living in Minnesota while she also gets to know you more. 

You can’t say every day you spend with the blonde is an amazing day. The girl’s injury was still fresh, so she was often grumpy and sad and found it hard to enjoy having to sit still in some coffee shop or library when she’d rather be out there playing ball. You never got upset with her though, you’d been there before, and you knew she just needed some silent support. 

One afternoon, your phone rings, bringing a smile to your face. You know who’s calling before you even look. “Hey, P,” you say, your grin clear in your voice. “Hey Y/N/N, whatcha up to?” she mumbles. “Just hanging out in my dorm, watching a show. What ‘bout you?” you reply, leaning back on your bed as you stare at the ceiling. “M’bored, you should come over… Some of the girls are coming over later… You should meet them,” she says. When you close your eyes, you can see her sitting in her room, one hand holding her phone as the other rubs her neck shyly.

“Sounds nice,” you murmur. You hear a soft sigh of relief on the other end. “Yeah?” Paige’s voice crackles through the phone, her tone hopeful. “Mhm,” you hum, “I’ll be there in like… 20 minutes?” “Ugh, 20 whole minutes?” she whines as you chuckle at how childish she could be. “Oh, I’m sorry? Do you want me to put my wheelchair in turbo mode?” You joke. “Oh my goddd, stoppp,” she groans, muffling her chuckles behind her hand. 

When you first made jokes about your injury and wheelchair, Paige had completely frozen, not knowing how to react. It had taken her a while, but now she was used to your stupid little jokes and knew you made them because you liked making people laugh.

You laugh softly at her reaction before saying goodbye and hanging up the phone. You get out of bed, hopping into your wheelchair with ease, having been through this whole thing what feels like a million times before. You quickly get ready, grabbing a book Azzi had been wanting to borrow for a while and putting it in your bag before heading out. 

You were excited to see Paige and Azzi again and were curious to see what their other friends were like. You were pretty nervous, though. You’d be the odd one out in their usual little bubble. You didn’t let that stop you from going over, though. You’d never really been afraid to take leaps, and weren’t going to start now either.

When you make it to Paige and Azzi’s dorm in record time (the wind must’ve helped you make it there so fast…), you let your presence be known with your signature knock. Paige opens the door almost immediately with her trademark grin. “Hey P,” you smile as you wheel your way inside. “Hey Y/N/N,” she replies. “So, when’re the others gonna be here?” you say as you follow her towards her room. “Don’t know. Half an hour maybe?” she shrugs as she plops down on her bed. You nod your head as you look around. 

You’d been in the blonde’s room a few times already, but you still liked seeing if anything had changed. Her room was filled with the usual clutter, clothes thrown on the chair in the corner, a few water bottles next to her bed,...

She pats the space next to her, inviting you in. You wheel closer before heaving yourself onto the bed. Blue eyes follow your every move, ready to jump into action if you need help. Once you’re comfortable, you lean back and smile at her. “Grey's Anatomy?” you ask, your head tilted in question. Paige’s face immediately lights up as she leans over to grab her laptop. You continue the show where you’d left off last time before you hear commotion in the living room. 

You look over at Paige, who looks back at you with a pout on her face. You chuckle, sitting up a little straighter to hop back into your wheelchair. Once you’re seated, you wait for the blonde to grab her crutches and lead the way. You laugh softly at her huffing and puffing, knowing she’d rather watch her show right now than hang out with her team.

When you make it to the living room, you see KK, Nika, Ice, and Azzi chatting as they shrug off their jackets. When they notice Paige and you, they quiet down. “Y/N! Hey, I didn’t know you were here,” Azzi beams at you. “Guys, this is Y/N, the girl I’ve told you about, the one that helped me during my recovery,” she says cheerfully. KK, Nika, and Ice smile kindly at you before introducing themselves. 

“Hey, it’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you guys,” you smile. “Only good things, I hope?” Nika teases. “Meh,” you reply with a smirk. The girls laugh before finding a spot to sit as you guys hang out. They leave 2 spots open on the couch for Paige and you, making you send them a thankful smile. 

You sit down and get to know the girls a little better. You could see why the UConn team was such a close-knit group. The girls were funny, sweet, and protective and treated each other like family. 

After a while, KK and Ice get bored and decide to turn on Paige’s PlayStation to play Fortnite. You continue to talk to everyone, laughing at the funny stories the girls tell you about Paige, trying to embarrass her. The blonde’s face turns a bright red as she complains about them being jerks, but her bright smile doesn’t leave her face. Your heart feels like it’s grown two sizes with how happy you’re feeling.

“Oh wait, Ace, I’ve got that book you asked for,” you say. You look towards your bag, seeing it near KK. “Hey KK, d’you mind grabbing my bag for me?” you ask the gaming girl. “Hm?” she hums distractedly. “Grab it yourself, bro,” she says, completely focused on the game. You see Azzi open her mouth to say something, but you hold up your hand to stop her. You send her an evil grin as mischief swirls around in your eyes. You make your face neutral, maybe even a little pouty, as you let out a sad sigh, “Alright.” 

You grab onto your wheelchair a little louder than necessary as you lean forward to move into it. KK’s head whips around so fast, you think she might’ve given herself whiplash. “WAIT, NO!” she yells, her eyes wide as she scrambles to get up to grab it for you. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone move as fast as her at that moment. 

The girls around you slap their hands in front of their mouths to stifle their giggles. The younger girl looks at them with a pouty frown, feeling bad for forgetting you couldn’t easily get up to grab something. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles as she hands you the book. You send her a wink and a grin, letting her know you were just joking. You weren't offended about the fact she seemed to have forgotten. It showed you that the girls didn’t just see you as someone with a disability.

She sits back down next to Ice, sticking her tongue out at the still laughing girl. “s’not funny,” she mutters, staring at the TV as she continues the game. You could get used to hanging out with these girls. You loved the way they constantly teased each other, but never went too far. Many people were too scared to make any type of jokes around you, too focused on your impairment to realize you were also just a person. 

20 minutes go by before a phone rings. You recognize the ringtone as Paige’s and look towards the sound. Her phone is lying on the table near Ice and KK, who both look over for a split second before their attention goes back towards the TV. “KK, gimme my phone,” Paige demands, leaning forward to grab it from her. “Get it yourself,” the younger girl quips back, not even glancing at the blonde. Paige looks over at the other girls for a second, a “Seriously?” clear on her face. 

She grins before copying you. Sigh. “Fine,” she mutters, grabbing onto her crutches, making them bang against each other. KK looks back and deadpans at her. “Go ahead,” she says dryly, turning back to her match. 

“Bruh, what the hell,” Paige huffs as she gets up to grab her phone. You let out a deep belly laugh at the annoyed look on her face. The blonde turns to you with an unamused frown, as you send her an innocent smile and a shrug. 

You guys hang out for a few hours before it’s time to head back to your dorm. Your chest feels light when you say your goodbyes. Each girl gives you a hug with the promise of hanging out again soon. When you make it back to your room, you see you already have 2 texts from Paige. “had fun 2day, thanks for coming over” and “think KK likes you more than me”. 

That night, you go to bed with a wide smile on your face.

Days go by, and you stay in touch with all of the girls, but you mainly hang out with Paige. Today was another one of your planned hangouts, this time at your dorm, but the second the blonde arrived, you knew it wouldn’t be all fun and games. She’d just gone to physical therapy for her knee, and her face looks thunderous. She hadn’t slept well, constantly waking up because of her knee, she’s sick and tired of not being able to play, and physical therapy had gone horribly. 

When she walks in, she wordlessly flops down on your couch as she stares at the ceiling, a frown etched into her face. You go over to your fridge, grabbing a bottle of water for the both of you before returning to her side. You give her the bottle and wait patiently for her to talk. “I fucking hate this,” she fumes. “It’s been weeks since the game, why is everything still so… so… ughhhh,” she groans, unable to find the words. You give her arm a squeeze in support, but she shrugs you off, shooting upright as she continues her heated rant. 

You stay calm as you listen to her, knowing she needs this moment to blow off some steam. When she quiets down, heaving from all the talking, you quietly try to comfort her. “I know it sucks, P, but you need to just keep going, don’t give up. You’ll be on the court again soon enough, and it’ll be like you never left-” you can’t finish your sentence before Paige interrupts. 

“NO, YOU DON’T FUCKING GET IT!” she yells, her frustrations high. You wince slightly at the volume but don’t say anything. You give the blonde a moment to calm down and let everything sink in. You’re not offended, you know people say things they don’t mean in moments like this. 

Once she realizes what she just said to you, the one person who understands more than anything, she looks at you with guilt in her eyes. Her blue eyes having become a shade darker as they look at you sadly. You see tears starting to well up before she leans forward, putting her face in her hands. “I’m sorry,” she whimpers in shame. You lean forward again, softly grabbing her wrist to take her hands away from her face. You hold one hand between yours as you catch her eye. You give her a gentle smile, letting her know you’re not upset.

“I shouldn’t have yelled… I shouldn’t’ve said that,” she mumbles regretfully. “It’s okay, P,” you murmur, giving her hand a squeeze. “You’re not mad?” She looks at you like a kicked puppy. You shake your head with a smile, “I’ve been through worse. I’ll survive a pretty girl raising her voice at me.” She gives you a tiny, sad smile, leaning her forehead against your entwined hands.

You start telling her your story. The story of how you grew up, playing every sport under the sun, up until that one dreadful day. You tell her about the dark, depressive hole you fell into after you woke up paralyzed, the way you pushed everyone away, and how you thought nothing would ever be okay again. The whole time you’re talking, she looks you in the eyes, barely blinking as she listens intently. Her jaw clenches as her eyes become glassy when you talk about your depression. When you finish talking about what it was like the first few months after the accident, you pause for a moment, letting everything sink in.

“How’d you do it…?” She asks, her voice cracking with emotion. “It was hard… really fucking hard,” you start. “I pushed everyone away at first, but my family never gave up on me. They helped me realize that while it really fucking sucked… I was still alive. And I would find new things to care about. And I did!” You smile. “With all my free time, I started looking for new hobbies. I found out pretty quickly that I don’t have the patience for puzzles, and I poked myself one too many times to enjoy cross-stitching,” you say with a playful grin, making the athlete breathe out a little laugh.

“I learned that I have pretty good rhythm, so I was able to pick up playing the guitar and the piano pretty easily. I realized that doodling really helps me unwind after a long day, which is funny because it’s the complete opposite of how I used to relax. I got better and better at drawing and tried out a bunch of different mediums, but my favorite is still pencil drawings. I’d always loved reading but never made enough time for it, but now I try to finish at least one book a week… Uhh, I bought a PlayStation which I play on maybe a little too much, but you know what that’s like, Ms Fortnite addict.” You tease. She rolls her eyes, but you can tell that she’s no longer feeling so bad, a tiny smile decorating her face. 

You let silence fill the room for a moment. “I’m not saying this in a way of being like, ‘Stop complaining and get over it’, but I promise P, things will be okay. You’re the Paige Bueckers… It’s gonna take a lot more than a torn ACL for you to stop being you. Have some faith.” You send her a comforting smile as you squeeze her hand. She nods at you, her muscles relaxed as she finally lets out a relieved sigh. “Thanks… for everything,” she breathes. You shake your head with a smile, thinking it’s silly she’s thanking you for being her friend. “You don’t need to thank me for that… but you’re welcome. And thank you for including me in your group of friends… I don’t remember the last time I’ve had this much fun.”

You two talk for the rest of the afternoon, ordering a pizza when dinner time arrives. After you’re done eating, you migrate to your bedroom, letting a movie play in the background as you keep talking about everything and nothing. You’re sitting on your bed, telling Paige a story, waving your arms animatedly as her blue eyes stare into yours. “... And then she looked at me and I almost passed out from laughing! You should’ve seen the look on Ace’s face!” you say, hiccuping a little from laughing. The blonde laughs along, her chest feeling warm at the sound of your laugh.

“So what’s up with that nickname anyway?” she questions as she leans her head on her hand. “Ace?” You ask. “Well, her name’s Azzi, but people call her Azz, so then I started calling her Ace, as in A C E, like in a deck of cards. The ace cards are the highest cards in the deck, and I think of her quite highly,” you explain.

“Okay, but doesn’t it depend on the game?” she asks, tilting her head like a confused puppy. “Hm?” “Well, isn’t the ace card the lowest in certain games?” she says with a raised eyebrow. You can’t help laughing as she says that. “God, are you always this negative?” You tease, giving her a little push. She rolls her eyes as she scrunches her nose, sticking her tongue out. 

You continue talking until the sky becomes dark. Paige looks out the window, a slight frown growing on her face at the thought of having to leave. “Do you wanna stay the night?” you ask nonchalantly, but you feel your heart beat a little faster. Her bright blue eyes find yours immediately as she looks to see if you’re joking. “Yeah, sure, if that’s cool with you,” she says as she fiddles with her necklace. You smirk at how nervous she seems. “I wouldn’t have offered if it wasn’t, now would I?” She slaps your arm lightly to shut you up. “Go ahead and grab some clothes from my closet,” you tell her, hopping into your wheelchair to go get ready for bed in your bathroom.

When you return, you freeze for a moment, your heart swelling at the blonde dressed in your clothes. When she looks over at you, you start moving again, letting her use the bathroom as well. A few minutes later, she returns, looking around a little sheepishly. You pat the bed next to you, sending her a calming smile. You continue talking a little longer, but slowly feel your eyes grow heavy. You fall asleep to Paige’s tired mumbling. The last thing you remember is a soft hand grabbing yours, entwining your fingers before you doze off.

After that night, your relationship with Paige changes. You feel like you’ve somehow become even closer to her and are happy to call her your best friend. You’re rarely seen without the other, always attached to the hip. You make sure to come with her to physical therapy for silent support, while she often joins you in the library as you finish another book on your list. Your favorite hangout spot is the coffee shop where you two properly talked for the first time. You make sure to go there every week, sometimes even being joined by the girls on the team (who you’d all gotten to know pretty well by now).

When the end of Paige’s recovery nears, you’re a little nervous. While you never blamed Azzi for getting too busy to hang out a lot after she recovered, you would still be upset if the same happened with the blonde. All your worries were for naught, however, when Paige continues to call you every chance she gets, sending you quick texts when she can’t. She often adds silly selfies as well, just to make you laugh.

You’ve known you’ve had a crush on the girl for a while now, but you never said anything. Paige needed to focus on getting better without any distractions. You also didn’t want her to think your whole friendship was based on you having a crush on her, so it was best you just kept quiet.

Paige, in return, was also too scared to tell you about her crush. She loved the friendship you two had and didn’t want to ruin it just because she’d caught feelings. She was afraid that every glance, every touch, and every soft smile was just you being a good friend. She couldn’t bear to lose you after everything you’d done for her, so she kept her mouth shut.

Azzi, being the observant friend she is, immediately knew about both of your feelings when she’d “caught” you two asleep on the couch, holding each other close. She made it her mission to get you two together. She started off by trying to convince Paige to confess, but that didn’t work out well, seeing as the blonde was too scared and always shrugged her off. Her next plan was to try to make you confess, knowing you were the bravest person she knew. That sadly also didn’t work, seeing as you were too considerate of others to think about your own feelings when you knew Paige could end up getting hurt. 

So here she was, back on plan A. “Come onnn, P, she’s head over heels for you, I’m telling you!” The blonde rolls her eyes so hard it gives her a bit of a headache. “Azzi, please, we’ve been over this before, let it goooo,” Paige groans, feeling butterflies flutter in her stomach at the thought of you liking her back. “No! I’m not gonna let this go. You two mean so much to me, I just want you guys to be happy,” she says with a sad pout on her face. Paige lifts her head from where she’s lying on her bed to look at the brunette, and groans again at the kicked puppy look on her face. She could never say no to her when she made that face.

Paige sighs and stares at the ceiling for a moment. “...How sure are you?” She mutters, looking over at Azzi with desperation in her eyes. The brunette gives her a soft but excited smile. “110%, P. You know I wouldn’t say this if there was even a slight chance I was wrong.” The blonde’s cheeks turn a soft pink as a happy yet slightly embarrassed smile shows on her face. “Okay then, how do we do this?”

You’re hanging out with a friend when you hear the familiar ringtone go off. You excuse yourself for a moment, picking up the phone. “What’s up, P?” You grin. “Hey Y/N/N!” You can hear the smile in her voice. “You’re coming to our next game, right?” she asks. “Uhm, hello? It’s your first game back on the court, of course I’m coming,” you tease, sounding slightly offended she felt like she had to ask. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she chuckles, “jus’ wanted to be sure.” “I’ll be your biggest cheerleader, don’t even worry about it,” you promise. “Ight, I’ll hold you to that,” she replies before you two say your goodbyes.

When the day of Paige’s first game back arrives, you know the blonde is bursting with nerves. You meet up with her before the game to wish her good luck and to encourage her. Her leg shakes up and down as she bites her nails. Her eyes flit around the room as she nods along to what you’re saying, but you know she’s not listening. You roll closer to her, grabbing her hand and pulling it away from her mouth. You give it a gentle squeeze as she finally looks at you. “Don’t worry so much, P. You’ve been working your ass off for this moment, and you’re gonna do great, okay?” you say, trying to reassure her as much as you can. Her shoulders loosen as she finally takes in what you’re saying.

“Thanks, Y/N/N,” she mutters with a small smile. You give her a wink before you leave to wish the other girls good luck and to find your spot before the crowd starts filtering in. While Paige is extremely nervous about her first game back, she’s more nervous about what’s going to happen at halftime. She really hopes she won’t embarrass herself. She walks back over to her team, quickly going over everything again to make sure everything would go exactly the way she’d planned. 

The first quarter of the game flies by before she even knows it. She already scored 12 points, giving UConn the advantage. As she sits on the bench, listening to coach Geno, she looks around. Her eyes immediately find yours as you send her two thumbs up. She grins before locking back into the game. 

The second quarter goes by even faster, making Paige’s stomach clench with nerves. They were now 9 points ahead, so it was still anyone’s game. First, however, it was time for halftime. 

The blonde wipes her sweat on a towel, looking over at Azzi. The brunette gives her a reassuring smile before walking over to you. You don’t expect her to walk over but smile at her nonetheless. “Hey Y/N/N, how much do you trust me?” she grins. You raise an eyebrow at her, but the smile on your face doesn’t disappear. “With my life,” you reply. She sends you a beaming smile, giving your shoulder a squeeze as she wheels you onto the court. You chuckle as you ask her what’s going on. She simply says, “You’ll see.” 

Paige walks up to you, fiddling with her hands nervously. She bends down on one knee and starts talking, her voice quivering a little. “Y/N… I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me.” You open your mouth to tell her off, but she holds up her hand before you can say a word. “I know, I know, I don’t need to thank you… but I want to. When you entered my life, I was going through a very difficult time. I felt like I was drowning on dry land… But you? You were like my life buoy, not letting me sink. You’re this amazing, strong person, and you’ve made me want to be like you. To never give up and to look at life in a positive way, even when things go wrong.” She swallows harshly. You grab her hand and give it a squeeze, speechless at the girl's words. Your chest feels warm as your heart feels like it’s about to burst out of its cage.

“The past few months have meant more to me than you could imagine, and… I fell for you harder than I thought I ever could… So… I want to ask you this,” she says, still nervous but a bit more confident as she sees the adoration in your eyes. She stands up and accepts the flowers Nika gives her. She hands them to you as she steps aside. 

Your eyes tear up as you see the scene in front of you. The whole UConn team, as well as the opponent's team, are standing there. All holding various items. A few girls are holding cardboard signs with the words “Will you go out with me?” on them. Your free hand flies to your mouth as you look up at Paige. The blonde is already staring at you lovingly with a soft smile. You chuckle at the amount of love you’re feeling right now as you nod your head at her. You can barely hear the crowd cheer around you as you feel your blood rushing in your ears.

The star player’s smile becomes even wider as her eyes crinkle. She grabs your hand, placing a kiss on it as all players start making their way towards you. You get handed all kinds of gifts from the blonde. Your favorite book annotated by her, a Lego set you two had talked about getting, a new pack of expensive pencils, a guitar pick maker, and a bunch of other things. You feel so incredibly seen by her that you find it hard to keep your tears at bay.

Once you’ve received all the gifts and thanked Paige a bunch, you make your way back to your seat. You hear a few “congrats” aimed your way as fans smile widely at you. When you turn back to the court, you see the blonde already looking at you. She sends you a flirty wink, making you chuckle as you shake your head in amusement. While the circumstances of you two meeting weren’t the best, you thank your lucky stars that the universe guided you to the Paige Bueckers. UConn’s star player. The golden student. The future of women’s basketball. A legend in the making. The girl that stole your heart but gave you hers in return.

[sungiescheotluv]

am i the asshole? ⭑.ᐟ lee jeno

pairing: lee jeno x gender neutral reader

word count: 2.1k

tags/warnings: fluff, meet not-so-cute turned cute, (excessive) swearing, crack (if you squint - or read any of my fics really 😭)

summary: things are looking up for you - a promotion at work propels you into a new, more extravagant apartment that has all you need and more. too bad you forget to look down.

notes: hi hi, i'm back with a new fic! it's been really fun to crank out all these fics in such a short amount of time :) i usually spend a stupid amount of hours mulling over word choice and reading too much into things, which i've tried to abandon with this blog and just write whatever inspires me and makes me laugh honestly. i'm not sure if this is funny for you guys, but i enjoyed the care-free time i had writing this and hope you enjoy it the same reading it! wishing you all the best and thank you, THANK YOU for all the love on my fics! it means so so much to me 🥹💗

also, this fic wouldn't exist this prompt list from @corvase so big big thank you to them! much love! <3

If there is one word to describe Jeno, it’s doting. 

Ever since the moment you two met, you’ve been living a life of luxury. Not necessarily in terms of monetary means (except for the very pretty promise ring Jeno got you a few months back), but in more valuable, sentimental places. Someone by your side that treasures the ground you walk on, someone that makes the effort whoever big or small, someone who’s totally and utterly obsessed with you. For so long, you thought you had your head in the clouds, imagining such a love as an abstract, fictional thing. Like it could never materialise beyond the limits of your mind and yet, there it is. Three years ago, the love you’d wished for on many stars, many birthday candles - right in front of you. 

You meet in a rather…unconventional way. Nothing shady or anything, but it’s a bit of a blunder in comparison with the wholesomeness of your relationship. You’d just moved into your new apartment building, your new promotion uplifting you as the future brims bright. You’d seen it in person before getting the keys and your jaw dropped every time. Admittedly, the office assisted with most of the expenses to keep you in close vicinity of the main building, explaining the lavish skyscraper of a building. Marble floors, polished elevators, key-pad locks. To you, someone who didn’t come from much, this was the high life. A merit your family let you know you deserved for all your efforts over the years, whether it was in academic ventures or familial affairs. Either way, as you are driving through the front gate, the security guard tipping his hat at you, you’re beaming with glee - nothing, and you mean absolutely nothing, could ruin your day. 

Except this.

For someone so accommodating, you lacked understanding (and patience) for what you, in a flare of anger, called ‘stupidity.’ Unfortunately for you, this is one of those moments. Pulling up to your assigned parking space (underground, might you add), your eyebrows furrow at the sight before you. There’s a car in front of you making an awkward turn, almost as if they don’t know where they’re going. Maybe they’re new like you, you reason. Your understanding drains from there, as the car goes back and forth, turning its wheels and frankly, looking like a hot mess. You try not to be an asshole, because drivers deserve some grace, especially Learners judging by the large ‘L’ on the back of their car, but just as you’re about to offer some help, you squeal.

The learner attempts to manoeuvre out the tight space it’s wedged itself into, having to reverse generously due to the sheer size of the car and in doing so, it nearly rear-ends you. If you hadn’t had the sense to put more distance between the two of you, the front of your car would’ve been mangled. This time, you honk, a slam of the hand on the steering wheel as you yell, “The fuck are you doing!”

The driver offers an apologetic hand out their window, somehow managing to squeeze into the parking spot they’d been trying very hard to get into. As grateful as you are for the stupid ordeal to be over, a pout forms on your lips as you squint at the parking spot the driver’s parked into. 

Your parking spot.

You’re out of your car before your brain registers, the slam of the car door accompanying the echo of your loud voice as you say, “That’s my parking space.” 

The driver hoops out of their car, a large grey hoodie shrouding their face as they step into view. Under the fluorescent lights of the barren car park, the stranger reveals their face, shadows enveloping the sharp edges of his high cheekbones and jawline. You nearly lurch back, because what the hell? Why is the driver you’d nearly had an aneurysm over unbelievably hot? Handsome? Cute?

At this point, you’d throw a whole dictionary full of words to describe how attractive he is, his pink lips folding into an apologetic grin, bowing to you deeply. “Is your car ok? I’m so sorry. It’s my first time driving this big ole thing - it’s the only car I could fit all my belongings in.”

Then, you see it. Items, belongings cluttering the pick-up truck, and if you really look, you’re pretty sure a pillow’s obstructing his sight from his rearview mirror. 

You exhale, a wave of sympathy drowning the fires of your annoyance. “It's fine, thanks. Just a word of advice, you shouldn’t be driving with something blocking your rearview mirror.”

Why did you have to tell him this? If he's a learner, surely he 1) knew this and 2) had someone in the car with him.

Just then, the passenger front seat opens, another figure in an oversized black hoodie coming round the vehicle. Were they-?

“Jeno, you forgot your dog treats in the-” the passenger cuts themselves off at your presence, lowering their hood to reveal another handsome face. What is this? A traveling circus of hotties? How many more were hidden in there? “Oh, hottie alert.”

Instantly no. 

In the face of a man also sculpted by the Gods, with his big brown eyes and irresistible smile, you scowl. Maybe even vomit a little in your mouth because did he just say ‘hottie alert’ about you…in front of you? 

Nevermind you calling him that first.

“You’ll have to excuse him,” the stranger - Jeno, you’re assuming - looks even more embarrassed, shuffling to shield the glaring ogling his friend does. “He’s got no filter. No sense either, now that I think about it.”

“Since when did the samoyed become the owner?” you make out his friend say, in a headlock that he forces himself out of with a bite through Jeno’s sleeve. 

Samoyed? Owner?

The longer you watch their bickering, the more confused and honestly, more annoyed you grow. A promotion and new apartment, what is meant to be an upgrade from your previously cramped but friendly neighbourhood, only to find yourself caught in the middle of a quarrel. With some themes of petplay, too, you weren’t sure.

All you know is that you’ve got a long day ahead of you, and they’re prolonging it by snatching your parking space. 

“Sorry to interrupt but,” their heads turn at the sound of your voice, having the decency to look embarrassed as you continue. “You’re parked in my space. I’m D7. So, in case there’s been a mix-up-”

“Thing is, sweetie,” Jeno’s friend addresses you, the latter hanging his head in shame. “Unfortunately, someone’s parked in our sweet Jeno’s place. We’re on a bit of a tight schedule, and your space was the only one avail-”

A car honk makes you jump, your head on a swivel, mortified to find a car behind yours, luckily trying to exit the underground space.

Now you look like the asshole.

You huff, exhausted already. “I’m gonna let this car through, and we’re going to solve this, alright?” 

They both nod, the enthusiasm that Jeno nods with earning a fond smile from his friend, Jeno’s sleazy partner ruffling his head of long black hair.

In the end, when you’ve circled back, the person parked in Jeno’s space comes out and profusely apologizes for the inconvenience, citing an emergency they had to take care of and since Jeno’s space was free and close to the building, they snagged it. So, you get your parking space back, a small victory. Jeno’s friend, who notices you’re moving in too - Jaemin is his name - offers his help, to which you politely deny, catching the pure apologetic nature in Jeno’s shiny eyes. 

Minor blunder. A small thing in the grand scheme of things, nothing worth losing your mind over.

Except when you’ve managed to heave your first few belongings to your apartment, the door next to yours opens, Jaemin’s bright smile greeting you as he says, “Oh, I’m definitely coming over to yours more often.”

So, yeah. Not that romantic - your first meeting.

Heck, even your second and third meeting isn’t too great because on one exceptional morning where you’re running late, you collide into Jeno on your way out, your possessions and fingernail flying in the air. You’re lucky your nail-bed remains unscathed, but not so lucky the days following that when you’re walking in the open courtyard of your apartment building, out for some fresh air, time to decompress for the mounting work you’re quickly submerging in.

You’ve got your headphones on, noise-cancelling ones you got for Christmas - how nice. What isn’t nice is that you miss the yell behind you, and the strange texture you step onto. Your body freezes, nose twitching from a foul smell that wafts upwards and when you gaze down to your shoe, you find the worst. The absolute worst.

Shit. Huge, putrid clumps of shit.

It’s so shocking that you slip your headphone off down to your neck, deciding between screaming or crying. Your decision is cut off by a familiar voice, yet again so apologetic.

“I forgot her bags upstairs. I didn’t think anyone would…” Jeno cuts himself off, eyebrows pinched together like he may cry. “Can I-can I do anything for you? Wash your shoe? Scream? Disappear into oblivion?”

“All of the above.”

He chuckles, the furry friend he’s accompanied by nudging their wet snout against your hand, smiling at you like there are no thoughts behind their eyes. Your eyes flicker between the dog and Jeno, the white samoyed eerily similar to his owner.

Was this what Jaemin was referring to when you first met?

“Don’t worry about her, she’s harmless,” he comments, the ghost of a grin appearing against his face. “Except when she takes a dump.”

You have to laugh. Otherwise you’ll cry. “Too soon?”

“No, no - I needed that actually,” you sigh after your fit of chuckles. “Today’s been…well, shit.”

“You don’t say,” Jeno muses, handing over the leash his dog is on. “Do you mind?”

You take it without a word, securing his furry friend as he slips off one of his shoes, bending down near the scene of the crime. Without a peep, he cleans around as best as he can, undoing your shoe and casting it aside, slipping his one on your foot.

“Well, I can’t scream because it’s non social hours,” he leads, wrapping your shoe in one of the bags. “And as much as I’d love to disappear into oblivion, I’ve got a shoe to wash.”

He then hesitates, parts his lips like he wants to say something. There’s something adorable about his loss for words, how his gaze is downturned, flicking side to side in indecision. God, all these awful run-ins robbed you of remembering how cute he is. 

“Did you want to come back to mine?” he finally asks, meeting your eyes. “So, we don’t have to drop each other’s shoes off like some fairytale.” 

“It is almost midnight,” your quick wit earns a chuckle from him, eyes moon crescent and you can’t believe your own. How tragically pitiful and handsome he is. “Why not? I’ve got no ball to be at.”

So, instead of spending your night wallowing in the darkness of your apartment, you’re next door, laughing at the failed attempts of Jaemin’s ‘flirting’ Jeno tells you with his samoyed, Ari, cuddled into your side. Once your shoe dries, that’s when you say you’ll leave - what you infamously tell yourself, picking up the bone-dry shoe hours later, belly full of Jeno’s special bowl of noodles and heart full of infatuation for your neighbour. 

Again, not so romantic. But your following run-ins prove to be a turning point, the close relationship you develop unveiling a world of romance you thought were reserved only for movies and books. Somewhere along the line, your elevator talks stretch into rambling dinner dates, rotating between your place and his depending on the meal since Ari once stole a whole steak off your plate once. You take Ari on your nightly walks Jeno accompanies you for, you meet his friends and he meets yours. You make space for each other, carving out time to spend binging the latest season of your favourite dating show or over a bowl of kimchi stew you reward him with for getting the spider out your apartment. 

It’s like your puzzle pieces come together, initially ill-matched but now, the perfect fit for one another. And even if Jaemin jokes you were a bit ‘rough around the edges’ (code for an asshole) when you’d first met, Jeno kisses the denial out of you, making sure you know how much better his (and Ari’s) life is with you in it. 

[fangdokja]

Yoo, can I ask a question? - yandere (of course) tartaglia, wanderer (or scaramouche) and kazuha, with a reader who has.. a slightly interesting temper, that is, the reader has an unconventional, sarcastic, extremely cynical sense of humor) humor is the reader's protective reflex, maybe.. The reader is constantly trying to turn everything into humor,often makes sarcastic little comments even if at the wrong moment.. (but reader still manages to make people laugh) Maybe this is a bit of a strange request, but why not? (I just often see how in yandere fics the reader is assigned almost the same behavior, I would like to read something new, and besides, you are one of my favorite yandere writers!) I hope my request complied with your rules, because there are SO MANY OF THEM.. I don't even remember some of them lol.. I'll be glad if you accept my request! thank you 💋

Too many thoughts, not enough brain cells. Let’s see what happens.

❤︎ Synopsis. A chaotic whirlwind of sarcasm and unfiltered humor, you—channeling the energy of Gojo Satoru—navigates life like it's a comedy show. Nothing is too serious, and everything’s an opportunity for a joke—even when the world’s falling apart.

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

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Genshin Impact Males (Tartaglia, Wanderer, Kazuha) x Fem. Gojo (?)! Reader (separate?)

♡ Headcanon. Humor First, Consequences Later - Part 1

♡ Word Count. 12,339

♡ TW. dom + top + older yandere, general non-con + manipulation, angst + tragedy, sexual themes

♡ Note. Due to Tumblr policy, all characters are all of age.

♡ A/N #1. This turned out longer than it was supposed to be......... but it was necessary for the build-up. So waha. And, this definitely has a different formatting and plot development style from all my other works (especially formatting), but that was done on purpose. And, yes, I'm putting this story in WITD, despite it's length, because of the formatting. Well, either way, hope you all enjoy :))

♡ A/N #2. Thank you for the support and reading so far, I appreciate it and also for taking the time to read the RULES. But, I have to inform you all on some important rules especially. As mentioned in my rules, requesters aren’t allowed to assign behavior towards the reader. For only MY works particularly, I agree that most of the behavior of reader is generally the same. Why? Well, simple, I hardly encounter self inserts with apathetic, actually not emotional readers. I lack book food. There are SO MANY emotional readers inserts. And even sarcastic sassy ones. I have no food. So I cooked my own food instead. I’ve read so many over the years, that honestly? The ones close to my personality are ALWAYS original novels with male characters. Literally Fang Yuan from Reverend Insanity cooks hardest, and even then there was that stupid part in almost Chapter 3k mark that I hated. Because they added emotions and shiz. And here I thought I found a true villain character. Small rant. But even then only he cooks really, both intelligence wise and even personality wise. No one has even beaten Fang Yuan in terms of strategy and intelligence from books that I haven’t created.

♡ A/N #3. I get it. Females are emotionally built, even biologically. But, I’m not overly emotional. I can act it, but feeling it? No. I can create other personality readers. I’ve literally written a lot of OC’s from thinkers to feelers so I can. But. Guys. I also self-insert myself in these stories whahaha. It’s not exactly my personality, but it’s still part of me. However, I’ll make an exception this time since I just released a new book, “Whispers In The Dark” for short stories. Since I’m actually a person who dislikes reading self inserts with mean readers of any kinds. This does not sound humble at all, but I’m not a mean person at all if it comes to commentary. I just keep to myself or keep my mouth shut. And I also HATE reading main characters with tempers. Probably because, I have a very mellow personality in reality. And emotions? Hardly feel anything tbh.

♡ A/N #4. Anyways so I won’t get mad when writing this, here’s basically a Gojo inspired Reader. Most ENTP’s (especially 8w7 and 7w8) are relatable to me, and I relate to Gojo a lot. Never simped, but I relate. But, next time, to anyone. I will NEVER be writing content that assigns a personality to reader. It’s one of the few things I have freedom in to just enjoy writing. I would honestly just get really irritated if I had to follow a set personality to reader. Yeah, I may write consistently the same reader, but that like genuinely makes me happy to write a reader that I can finally relate to. I hardly find stories like that. Much more in reader inserts. I hope you all understand. Kind of pathetic to say “I just wanna have fun”. But, it’s true and foundational to me. I have a difficult time writing if I’m not having fun.

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia (Childe) who first noticed you in the midst of a chaotic battlefield, blades clashing and blood splattering in all directions. He was there for his own mission, but your laughter—loud, sardonic, and downright inappropriate—caught his attention.

You’d just disarmed one of his men with a sarcastic comment and a flashy spin move, only to remark, “Well, that’s one way to make him stop talking.” Tartaglia’s first thought was: This one gets it.

The two of you had crossed paths before, but this was different. You fought with a ferocity he hadn’t seen in a long time, and the fact that you seemed entirely unfazed by the danger surrounding you only intrigued him further.

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia who you clashed blades with in the middle of a chaotic battlefield. The air was thick with violence and the sound of metal, but there you were, laughing through the chaos.

"Well, this is fun! Is this your idea of a date, or should I try harder?" you joked, dodging his ruthless strikes with a grin that could only be described as wicked. Tartaglia couldn’t stop himself from grinning back, impressed by your chaotic energy and your apparent lack of fear.

"You're bold, I'll give you that," he quipped, flipping his spear expertly. "But I gotta ask—are you always this insufferable, or am I just lucky?"

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia who first noticed you during a chaotic battlefield where chaos was your language, and you spoke it fluently. You both crashed into each other mid-fight, swords clashing in a brutal rhythm, but the moment his eyes locked with yours—amidst the blood, the screams, and the madness—he felt a jolt of recognition.

Not of fear, no, but of pure chaotic understanding. "Well, well, well, looks like you're not just another pretty face—you're a disaster in the best way possible."

You didn't miss a beat, "Flattery will get you nowhere, buddy. But I’ll take it. You really should work on your aim though."

Despite being enemies in that instant, he couldn’t help but enjoy the way you threw yourself into battle—your sarcasm as sharp as your blade. Every strike was a witty remark wrapped in bloodshed. You were an unfiltered storm of energy, and he couldn’t help but think, “This is the kind of chaos I want in my life.”

After the battle, despite the blood and sweat, you both shared a laugh as if you had just finished a light sparring session, not a life-or-death duel.

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia who being the chaotic soul he was, immediately clicked with you, and your shared irreverence made it impossible for him to hate you, even if you were technically enemies.

Tartaglia spoke with a handsome boyish grin, "I’m gonna need a drink after that, how about you?"

"Nah, you’ll need a bottle, pal. But we both know you’re a lightweight."

"You wound me."

———

♡ Yandere! Wanderer (Scaramouche) who hated you immediately. The moment he met you, you gave him the most obnoxious smirk and made some comment about how “intense” he looked, like a lost kitten trying to be menacing. You couldn't help it—his dramatic aura was begging for a punchline.

“Oh, look. A robot with an existential crisis. What’s next, a lecture on how you’re misunderstood by the world?” The sheer audacity of your sarcasm sent a shockwave through him, one that made him freeze for a split second.

“I’d ask you to smile, but I’m pretty sure that would crack your face,” you quipped, and the cold, calculating expression he wore only made it worse. He stared at you with thinly veiled contempt, his distaste for your flippant attitude and sarcasm immediate.

♡ Yandere! Wanderer who hated you even more when you opened your mouth. During a tense moment of political intrigue, Wanderer was deep in a conversation with some high-ranking officials, trying to manipulate them for his own advantage, when you interrupted with a perfectly timed comment.

"Wow, these people talk more than my grandmother at Christmas dinner. Do they even hear themselves?"

The room went dead silent. Wanderer’s eyes narrowed as he turned to look at you, trying to figure out who this... jester was. Your irreverent attitude was a sharp contrast to his own cold, calculating nature.

"Are you always this... unbearable?" he asked, his voice laced with disdain.

"Well, only when I’m surrounded by such charming people like you," you replied, not a hint of fear in your voice.

♡ Yandere! Wanderer who didn’t know how to handle your complete lack of respect. He saw you as an irritating fly—one he couldn’t just swat away because of your sharp tongue and unpredictable nature. But that didn’t stop the twisted curiosity that started to bloom in him. Maybe he hated you, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy watching you twist every interaction into a dark comedy sketch.

“Do you always treat people like this?” he sneered, but you only shrugged.

“Nah, just you,” you replied with a wink, “but don’t feel too special. I hate everyone equally.”

———

♡ Yandere! Kazuha who, unlike the others, didn’t immediately form an opinion about you. You met him on a peaceful evening, sitting by the fire as you shared a drink.

"Nice music, but tell me—do you ever sing songs about decapitations or revenge? You know, the classics," you asked, leaning against a tree with a mischievous grin. Kazuha blinked, momentarily thrown off balance by your unexpected question.

He chuckled, albeit nervously. "Ah, well, I do tend to favor more peaceful melodies. The world has enough violence, don’t you think?"

You shrugged dramatically. "Sure, but I think it’s just a matter of perspective. You’ve never heard a good ‘revenge ballad,’ have you? Something with blood, guts, and a sweet vengeance story?"

♡ Yandere! Kazuha who was calm, collected, and in no hurry to make judgments about people.

"You’ve got a sharp tongue," Kazuha remarked with a soft laugh, sensing the tension you carried beneath your humor.

"Sharp enough to cut through all the nonsense in the world," you replied with a smirk. "It’s a survival tactic, you know? Get too serious, and people start thinking you’re a threat."

Kazuha chuckled, but there was a quiet understanding in his eyes. Unlike Wanderer, who despised your sarcasm, Kazuha found a strange comfort in it.

♡ Yandere! Kazuha who spent hours talking with you—half serious, half joking—and by the end of the night, you couldn’t quite tell if Kazuha had warmed to you or simply found your humor amusing. He was neutral, calm, but there was something about your cynicism that tugged at his heart. Not in a romantic way—more like a curiosity about the darkness behind your jokes.

Despite everything, Kazuha found himself oddly protective of you, even if you were too much of a loose cannon for his liking.

"You really know how to push people’s buttons," Kazuha mused with a faint smile, sipping his drink.

"It's a gift," you replied with a grin, letting the conversation fade into the night.

♡ Yandere! Kazuha who didn't dislike you. It was more that he didn’t quite understand you. He found your humor bizarre—borderline morbid, really—but at the same time, it made him appreciate the way you could maintain your composure in the face of things that would send anyone else into a frenzy. He didn’t want to admit it, but there was something magnetic about your wit, your sharp tongue, and the way you saw the world.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia who couldn’t get you out of his head after that battlefield encounter.

At first, it was your audacity that stood out—who cracks jokes while fighting for their life? But as you two clashed more often, he found himself genuinely entertained by your wit. Each fight became less about winning and more about trading barbs.

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia purposefully pick fights with you just to hear your comebacks. One time, mid-battle, you yelled, “You gonna twirl that spear all day, or are we actually fighting?” He almost dropped it because he was laughing so hard.

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia who invites you for drinks post-battle as if you’re not enemies. “Come on, you’ve earned it,” he’d say with a grin. “I’ll even let you pick the bar. But if you poison my drink, we’re gonna have a problem.”

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia becomes your unofficial sparring partner. The battles become a game of who can outwit the other with sarcastic comments.

“You call that a strike? My kid brother could hit harder,” you’d say, dodging his attack.

“Oh yeah?” he’d reply, smirking.

“Maybe I’ll let him fight you next time.”

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia when he eventually starts treating you like one of his comrades. He shares stories about his family, asks about your past (you deflect with humor), and even brings you snacks during downtime. “You fight better when you’re not hangry,” he claims.

———

♡ Yandere! Wanderer despises your existence but can’t seem to avoid you. Every time he’s working on some secretive plan, you pop up with a sarcastic comment.

“Wow, plotting world domination again? Don’t forget the evil laugh—it really sells it.”

♡ Yandere! Wanderer tries to ignore you, but your presence grates on his nerves. “Do you ever shut up?” he snaps one day, glaring at you.

“Not if I can help it,” you reply with a smirk. “What’s the point of silence when your misery is so much fun?”

♡ Yandere! Wanderer reluctantly teams up with you during a mission. It’s strictly business, but you make it nearly impossible for him to stay professional.

“You know,” you say, “if you smiled more, people might actually like you.” He glares, but the faintest twitch of amusement betrays him.

♡ Yandere! Wanderer when for the first time he lets his guard down, it’s accidental. After a long, grueling day, you find him staring at the stars.

“So, what’s the brooding about tonight?” you ask, sitting beside him. He doesn’t answer immediately, but eventually, he mutters, “Nothing you’d understand.”

“Try me,” you challenge, and for once, he indulges you.

♡ Yandere! Wanderer begrudgingly respects your intelligence. Despite your flippant attitude, you have a knack for solving problems in ways he wouldn’t consider. He won’t admit it, but he’s impressed.

“You’re not as useless as you look,” he says one day.

“Thanks, I’ll embroider that on a pillow,” you reply.

♡ Yandere! Wanderer when your sarcasm starts to grow on him.

When someone else insults him, you’re the first to step in with a cutting remark. “Hey, I’m the only one allowed to call him insufferable, okay?”

———

♡ Yandere! Kazuha meets you on a quiet evening, and your energy is a stark contrast to his calm demeanor.

“Do you ever stop being so mellow?” you ask after he recites a haiku. “What’s life without a little chaos?”

He smiles faintly and replies, “Perhaps you bring enough for both of us.”

Traveling with Kazuha feels like a comedy routine. You constantly try to bait him into arguing, but he just humors you.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you enjoy this,” you tease.

“Perhaps I do,” he replies, eyes twinkling.

♡ Yandere! Kazuha is the only one who sees the cracks in your humor.

Late one night, you sit by the fire, unusually quiet. “Even storms have calm moments,” he says softly, offering you a drink.

“Don’t get used to it,” you reply, smirking, but there’s gratitude in your eyes.

Your dark humor doesn’t faze him; if anything, he finds it endearing. When you jokingly suggest writing a song about a gruesome battle, he actually considers it.

“A ballad of bloodshed and bravery?” he muses. “Sounds poetic.”

♡ Yandere! Kazuha subtly encourages you to open up. He never pries, but his quiet patience makes it easier for you to let your guard down.

“You’re oddly calming, you know that?” you admit one day. “Like a weirdly wise fortune cookie.”

He laughs and says, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

♡ Yandere! Kazuha, despite his gentle nature, doesn’t hesitate to protect you. When a fight breaks out during your travels, he steps in without hesitation.

“Don’t worry,” he says, drawing his blade. “You’re not facing this alone.”

────────────

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia who realizes he’s falling for you during one of your sparring sessions. You’d taken a hit—nothing serious—but enough for him to notice. After the match, he grabbed your arm, inspecting the wound with an uncharacteristically serious expression.

“Relax, Childe, it’s just a scratch,” you said, smirking through the wince.

“Stop joking for one second,” he replied, a little sharper than usual. As he wrapped the bandage around your arm, his hands were surprisingly gentle.

You tried to lighten the mood. “What, worried you’d have to explain this to my ghost?”

He didn’t laugh this time. “No, I just—” He stopped himself, his usual cocky grin faltering.

“You’re reckless, you know that? I can’t always be around to patch you up.”

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia who finds himself watching you more carefully after that, his playful facade slipping every time you brush off an injury or laugh in the face of danger. It’s in those moments he realizes your humor hides something deeper—a pain he’s desperate to understand.

When you finally catch him staring, you raise an eyebrow. “What’s with the puppy-dog eyes? You’re not getting sentimental on me, are you?”

His grin returns, but there’s a softness behind it. “Maybe I just like looking at you.”

For once, your usual quip dies on your lips, and the silence between you is louder than the battlefield.

———

♡ Yandere! Wanderer who starts noticing your distant stares during quiet moments. He catches you gazing into the horizon, your usual smirk replaced by an uncharacteristically serious expression.

“What’s wrong? Forgot your punchline?” he asks, his tone biting but not cruel.

“Just thinking,” you reply, your voice softer than he’s used to.

“That’s new,” he mutters, sitting beside you. When you don’t snap back with a retort, he frowns. “What’s going on with you?”

You shrug, deflecting with humor. “Guess I’m out of jokes for the day. Mark your calendar—it’s a historic moment.”

But he doesn’t let it go. “You can’t fool me with that act. Whatever it is, you don’t have to carry it alone.”

♡ Yandere! Wanderer who doesn’t push you to open up but finds himself frustrated by your reluctance to trust him. He hates that you make him care this much, but the thought of you being hurt—physically or emotionally—makes his chest tighten.

When you finally let out a small, dry laugh and say, “You really don’t know when to quit, huh?” he feels an odd sense of victory.

“Someone has to keep you in line,” he replies, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

———

♡ Yandere! Kazuha who finds you one evening, hunched over a journal he gifted you long ago. You’re scribbling furiously, completely absorbed, and he can’t help but smile softly at the sight.

“You’re quite the writer,” he comments, startling you.

“Geez, give a person a warning next time,” you grumble, closing the journal instinctively.

Kazuha tilts his head, amused. “What are you hiding in there? Plans for world domination?”

You smirk. “Nah, just embarrassing poetry about how much I love chaos.”

But when he gently reaches for the journal, you hesitate before handing it over. Inside, he finds sketches of places you’ve traveled together, snippets of conversations, and little notes about your adventures.

“You kept all of this?” he asks, his voice quieter now.

“Yeah, well, don’t get a big head about it,” you reply, trying to downplay the sentiment.

♡ Yandere! Kazuha who notices the way your humor becomes softer, almost shy, when you talk about the memories you’ve shared. It’s in those moments he realizes how much you’ve let him into your life—even if you don’t fully trust him yet.

“You’re more sentimental than you let on,” he says with a gentle smile.

“Don’t spread that around,” you reply, but there’s a flicker of vulnerability in your eyes that he treasures.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia who catches you off guard one evening after a particularly intense sparring session. You’re both sitting on the ground, exhausted but grinning. He hands you a flask of water, and as you take it, your fingers brush.

“Careful, Childe,” you tease. “I might think you’re getting soft on me.”

He chuckles, but his eyes are serious. “Maybe I am. Around you, anyway.”

You pause, your usual smirk faltering as you look at him. “Don’t joke about that,” you say, your tone unusually soft.

“I’m not joking,” he replies, his voice steady. “You’re more than just a good fight to me. I care about you.”

For once, you don’t deflect. Instead, you lean back, staring up at the stars, and mutter, “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

But the way your lips twitch into a small, genuine smile doesn’t escape his notice.

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia, as he’s walking you back to your camp, and you stop abruptly. “Hey, Childe?”

“Yeah?”

You turn to face him, your grin replaced by something softer, almost vulnerable. “Thanks. For putting up with me.”

The warmth in your eyes is something he’s never seen before, and for the first time, you seem completely unguarded. Before you can say anything else, he cups your face with his hand, his thumb brushing your cheek.

“You’re worth it,” he murmurs, leaning in slightly. And when you don’t pull away, he closes the distance, his kiss surprisingly tender.

———

♡ Yandere! Wanderer who finds you sitting alone under a tree, the sun setting behind you. There’s an unusual stillness in your demeanor, and he approaches cautiously.

“What’s with the brooding hero act?” he asks, sitting down beside you.

You snort. “Maybe I just like the dramatic lighting.”

But he notices the way your fingers fidget with the hem of your sleeve, a telltale sign of your unease. “You’re terrible at lying,” he mutters.

“Only to people who can’t take a joke,” you quip, but your usual bravado lacks its usual spark.

♡ Yandere! Wanderer who doesn’t say anything, just sits beside you until the silence becomes comfortable. Eventually, you speak again. “Do you ever feel like… no matter what you do, you’re just waiting for the other shoe to drop?”

The question surprises him, and for a moment, he doesn’t know how to respond. “All the time,” he admits, his voice quieter than usual.

You glance at him, your eyes searching his for something you can’t quite name. Then, with a small sigh, you rest your head on his shoulder. “Guess that makes two of us.”

♡ Yandere! Wanderer when the gesture catches him completely off guard, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he shifts slightly to make you more comfortable, his hand twitching at his side as though debating whether to touch you.

“You’re warm,” you murmur, your voice tinged with amusement.

“And you’re annoying,” he replies, but there’s no bite in his tone.

For the first time, there’s a genuine warmth in your smile, and he can’t help but feel like he’s finally starting to understand you.

———

♡ Yandere! Kazuha who notices the change in you during a quiet evening by the campfire. You’re holding the journal he gave you, flipping through its pages with a soft expression.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, his voice low and gentle.

You glance up, startled, and then shrug. “Just… how far we’ve come, I guess.”

♡ Yandere! Kazuha who smiles, sitting beside you. “It’s been quite the journey, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you reply, your voice unusually quiet. Then, after a pause, you add, “You’ve been… really patient with me. I don’t think I ever said thanks.”

“You don’t need to,” he replies, his eyes searching yours.

“No, I do,” you insist, looking at him with an intensity that takes him by surprise. “I’m not… easy to deal with. But you stayed anyway. That means something.”

♡ Yandere! Kazuha when the vulnerability in your tone is something he’s never heard before, and he feels his chest tighten.

Without thinking, he reaches for your hand, his fingers brushing against yours. “You mean more to me than you realize,” he says softly.

You stare at him for a long moment before lacing your fingers with his. “Maybe I’m starting to get that,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

For the first time, your smile is free of sarcasm or deflection. It’s warm, genuine, and utterly disarming.

“I’ll take that as a victory,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“Don’t get used to it,” you tease, but there’s no bite in your words.

♡ Yandere! Kazuha, when the firelight dances in your eyes, and he looks at you, he knows he’d follow you anywhere.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia who surprises you one evening with a quiet dinner set up near a cliff overlooking the ocean. When you see the setup, complete with lanterns and freshly caught seafood, you raise an eyebrow.

“This is new,” you say, smirking. “What’s the occasion? Did someone die?”

He laughs, shaking his head. “Can’t I just do something nice for you?”

“You? Nice?” you tease, plopping down onto the blanket. “You’re setting a dangerous precedent, Childe.”

As the evening wears on, the atmosphere becomes more intimate. The way he looks at you, with a rare softness in his expression, makes your usual bravado falter.

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia, at one point, he leans closer, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

You snort, your cheeks warming. “You need to work on your pickup lines.”

But when he cups your face and kisses you, slow and deliberate, your witty comeback dies on your lips. His touch is both tender and possessive, a silent reminder that he’s already decided you’re his.

———

♡ Yandere! Wanderer drags you out of bed one morning, much to your annoyance. “I promise, if this isn’t life-threatening, I’m going back to sleep,” you grumble, rubbing your eyes.

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t let go of your wrist. “Just shut up and follow me.”

♡ Yandere! Wanderer where he leads you to a secluded hilltop just as the sun begins to rise. The view is breathtaking, but you’re still half-asleep and unimpressed.

“You woke me up for this?” you ask, stifling a yawn.

“Ungrateful as always,” he mutters, crossing his arms. “I thought you’d appreciate the effort.”

Despite your sarcasm, you sit down beside him, the warmth of his shoulder brushing against yours. After a moment, you glance at him and say, “Thanks. For this, I mean.”

♡ Yandere! Wanderer smirks, but there’s a faint blush on his cheeks. “Don’t get used to it.”

Later, when you’re lying back in the grass, the silence between you is surprisingly comfortable. He leans over, his fingers brushing against your jaw as he tilts your face toward his.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he murmurs, his lips hovering just above yours.

“Good,” you reply, grinning. And then he closes the distance, his kiss as intense and consuming as his feelings for you.

———

♡ Yandere! Kazuha invites you on a late-night stroll, the two of you wandering through a quiet forest illuminated by moonlight. He stops at a clearing where fireflies dance in the air, their glow reflecting in his crimson eyes.

“You sure know how to set a mood,” you say, half-joking.

He chuckles, stepping closer. “It’s not the fireflies setting the mood.”

You raise an eyebrow, your trademark smirk in place. “Kazuha, are you flirting with me?”

“Maybe,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

♡ Yandere! Kazuha, when he takes your hand and pulls you closer, the teasing remark you were about to make dies in your throat. His hands rest on your waist, his touch featherlight yet grounding.

“You’re the most captivating person I’ve ever met,” he says, his voice filled with sincerity.

For once, you’re at a loss for words. Instead of replying, you pull him down into a kiss, slow and deep, the world around you fading away.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia when It’s been a year since he first confessed, and while you’ve spent most of it poking fun at his intensity, tonight feels… different. He’s pacing around your shared campsite after a mission, looking oddly nervous.

“Spit it out already,” you say, lounging on a log and stretching like you don’t have a care in the world. “You’re giving me secondhand anxiety.”

He stops, runs a hand through his hair, and takes a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking… maybe it’s time we made this official.”

You blink, sitting up. “Official?”

“You know,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “Us. Together. Permanently.”

“Oh, that kind of official,” you reply, your smirk widening. “You really know how to charm a person, Ajax.”

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia, before he can get defensive, you saunter over, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Relax,” you murmur, your voice dropping an octave. “I’d be stupid to say no, wouldn’t I?”

The relief in his eyes is quickly replaced by something darker, more possessive. “You really mean that?”

Your grin is wicked. “Why don’t you make me prove it?”

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia who doesn’t need to be told twice. Before you know it, you’re backed against a tree, his hands roaming your body with an urgency that sends shivers down your spine.

“You’re mine now,” he growls against your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. “Completely, utterly mine.”

“Bold of you to assume I wasn’t already,” you quip, though your voice trembles as his hands slip under your shirt.

His laugh is low, almost dangerous. “Oh, I’m going to make sure there’s no doubt left.”

The next thing you know, you’re stripped bare, pinned between him and the rough bark of the tree. His mouth is everywhere—your neck, your collarbone, the curve of your hip—leaving marks that scream possession.

“You look so perfect like this,” he mutters, his voice thick with need. “Completely at my mercy.”

“Is that what we’re calling it?” you manage to say, though the tremor in your voice betrays your bravado.

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia when he finally slides into you, slow and deliberate, your sharp intake of breath is all the encouragement he needs. His pace is relentless, each thrust driving you closer to the edge as he whispers possessive promises against your skin.

“You’re mine,” he repeats, over and over, his grip on your hips bruising. “No one else will ever have you.”

And as your nails rake down his back, pulling him impossibly closer, you realize you wouldn’t have it any other way.

———

♡ Yandere! Wanderer, when It’s late, and you’re lying together in his makeshift tent. The air between you feels heavy, charged with something unsaid. Finally, he sighs and sits up.

“You know,” he says, his tone uncharacteristically soft, “it’s been a year.”

You hum, not bothering to open your eyes. “And?”

“And I think… maybe it’s time we stop pretending this is casual,” he says, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

Your eyes snap open, and you prop yourself up on your elbows. “Wanderer, are you seriously confessing again?”

He glares, but there’s no real bite to it. “I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” you reply, sitting up fully. “I didn’t think you were the type to get sentimental.”

“Only for you,” he mutters, his cheeks flushing.

You laugh, leaning in to kiss him. “Fine, fine. I’ll stop teasing—for tonight.”

♡ Yandere! Wanderer when he pulls you onto his lap, his hands gripping your waist as his lips crash against yours. There’s nothing gentle about the way he kisses you—it’s desperate, hungry, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

“You’re infuriating,” he growls, his hands sliding under your shirt to explore your bare skin.

“Good,” you breathe, grinding against him. “Wouldn’t want to make things too easy for you.”

His response is a low groan as he flips you onto your back, his body pressing you into the soft fabric of the bedroll. His eyes are dark, his expression utterly unguarded as he looks down at you.

“You’re not getting away tonight,” he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” you reply, smirking.

♡ Yandere! Wanderer when he enters you, it’s with a roughness that steals your breath, his movements erratic as he chases both your pleasure and his. His hands pin your wrists above your head, his lips tracing a heated path down your neck.

“You belong to me,” he whispers, his voice trembling with intensity. “No one else.”

And as your moans fill the air, his grip on you tightening, you realize there’s no point in denying it.

———

♡ Yandere! Kazuha, where he's sitting beside you by the fire, the two of you wrapped in a comfortable silence. Kazuha leans toward you, his gaze soft yet intense.

“You’ve stayed with me for a year,” he says quietly. “I never thought I’d be lucky enough to have someone like you by my side.”

You roll your eyes, though your smile is genuine. “Are you trying to propose or something?”

His expression doesn’t change. “Maybe I am.”

The teasing remark dies on your lips as he reaches for your hand, his touch featherlight. “I want this. Us. Forever.”

You stare at him for a moment before breaking into a grin. “Well, I’m not exactly in the habit of saying no to you, am I?”

♡ Yandere! Kazuha who kisses you then, slow and deliberate, his hands cradling your face like you’re something precious.

When he lays you down by the fire, his movements are unhurried, each touch a silent declaration of his devotion. His hands roam your body, mapping every curve as his lips press heated kisses along your skin.

“You’re everything to me,” he whispers, his voice trembling with emotion.

“Show me,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

And he does.

♡ Yandere! Kazuha when he finally joins with you, it’s slow, almost reverent, his movements guided by the need to make you feel every ounce of his love. His hands never leave your body, his lips pressing soft kisses against your neck, your shoulder, your lips.

“I love you,” he murmurs, his voice raw with sincerity.

And as the firelight dances across your intertwined bodies, you realize you’ve never felt more adored—or more his.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia, as he stands on the edge of the cliff, overlooking the vast expanse of the ocean, his mind races. He’s been with you for over a year, and it’s been nothing short of perfect, even if you’re still your usual teasing self. But he knows, deep down, that he can’t wait any longer. He’s made up his mind.

Marry me, he thinks, the words swirling in his mind. It’s not a question, not really. It’s an inevitable conclusion. You’re his. You’ll always be his. The only thing left is to make sure you understand that—completely.

“You’d be the perfect wife,” he mutters to himself, a small smile tugging at his lips. He envisions you, sitting next to him by the fire, laughing, living, thriving beside him. He imagines it all, and it feels… right. It’s what he deserves.

But the question is: How?

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia, as his eyes scan the horizon, searching for inspiration. The right setting, he thinks. It has to be memorable. Something personal, something only the two of you can share. Not just some grand spectacle that’ll make you feel overwhelmed—something that’ll make you want to say yes without hesitation.

Or maybe I should take you by surprise, he contemplates, a mischievous glint flashing in his eyes. A more intimate, private moment. No distractions. Just the two of you, alone, with nothing but his love wrapping around you.

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia, where his mind races through countless scenarios—by the water, under the moonlight, with nothing but the sound of the waves crashing at your feet. Or maybe in the heat of the moment, when you’re both caught up in your passion, when the connection between you two is raw and undeniable.

But one thing is clear: Tartaglia knows you’ll say yes. You’ll have to. You’re already his.

He just has to make sure you see it, too. That you realize how deep his love goes. That you understand the intensity of what he’s offering. This isn’t just a ring. It’s a lifetime of devotion and passion.

After a long silence, his eyes harden with resolve. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make you mine forever.”

The plan is set. Now all he has to do is wait for the right moment to make you his wife.

———

♡ Yandere! Wanderer, where two months have passed since that night in the tent, and Wanderer can’t stop thinking about how perfect it is between you two. It’s a strange thing, this feeling in his chest that grows stronger with each passing day.

You’re mine, he thinks, but now, it’s not enough to just claim you. He wants more. He wants you by his side forever. He wants you to carry his name, to have no other but him in your life.

There’s something about you, the way you challenge him, the way you fight him. It stirs something inside him, something primal, something that says, this is the person you’ve been waiting for.

“Marriage,” he mutters to himself. The thought comes to him like a sudden revelation, like the answer to a question he didn’t know he was asking. He doesn’t even blink. It just feels right.

But how? How can he make sure you understand that this isn’t just a casual decision? That he’s serious?

♡ Yandere! Wanderer rolls over in bed, staring at the ceiling. A ring? A symbol of ownership, of course. Something that marks you as his. But how does he make it clear to you that he wants this—wants you—forever?

His thoughts are a whirlwind. He knows that he can’t just come out and ask you. Not like that. You’re too clever, too observant for something so simple. No, he’ll have to make it special.

Perhaps somewhere secluded, just the two of you, far from anyone who could interrupt. He’ll show you his commitment, and then, in the silence of your shared space, he’ll make his declaration. A vow, a promise.

The problem is, he doesn’t trust himself not to just take you right then and there. The idea of you in a white dress, standing beside him, gives him a rush of desire so intense it nearly overwhelms him. But he knows that’s not what he wants.

♡ Yandere! Wanderer wants you to want this, too. Not out of obligation, but because you feel it, because you understand the gravity of what he’s offering.

But how can he make you feel that way? How can he show you that, even though he’s never been one for sentimentality, with you… he’s willing to change?

Wanderer sits up, his eyes narrowed as he thinks it over. He’ll need to be patient, let the moment come naturally, and then when it does…

He’ll claim you forever.

———

♡ Yandere! Kazuha, where it's been two months after that night by the fire, his feelings for you have only deepened. He’s spent hours thinking about how to make the moment special, wondering how best to express his love. The idea of forever with you fills him with a warmth he can’t quite put into words.

You’ve been his muse for so long, and now, he wants to make you his in the most meaningful way he can think of.

The problem is… he’s never been good at this. How does one ask for someone’s hand in marriage without sounding cliché or desperate? How can he ask you to be with him forever when everything about him feels so transient?

♡ Yandere! Kazuha watches the wind rustle through the trees, lost in thought. The answer isn’t obvious, but it’s there, in the quiet moments he shares with you. He needs it to be personal, a reflection of the time you’ve spent together, of the bond you’ve created.

A small, intimate setting—a secluded beach at sunset, perhaps. The two of you alone, just like the first night you truly opened up to each other. He’ll ask you when the moment feels right, when the connection between you is so palpable it fills the air.

A simple question, but with everything he is.

♡ Yandere! Kazuha chuckles to himself softly. It doesn’t need to be grand. What matters is that you’ll be his, and he’ll be yours, forever.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia when the world slows, and his heart stops for just a moment, realizing that the blow meant for him has fallen upon you instead. You stand between him and the Abyss, your eyes wide in pain as the deadly weapon pierces your body. His breath catches in his throat.

"No..." he whispers, his voice broken as he crawls toward you, blood seeping from your wound.

Your lips curve into a sad, knowing smile, but it’s sharp. "Go," you command, every ounce of strength focused on keeping him safe, even as the life begins to drain from you. "Get out of here. I’ll hold them off. You have to survive. It’s not your time yet."

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia where his entire world crumbles. He can’t think. He can’t breathe. "I won’t leave you," he growls, trying to rise, but the weight of his own failure pulls him back down.

"You will," you say, your voice steady, but you can feel the darkness creeping in. "You will, Ajax. I love you... I always have." Your eyes lock, your gaze filled with such quiet resolve that it nearly breaks him. "I’m yours... but you have to keep fighting... For us."

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia before he can protest, before he can beg, you make your move. With every ounce of your strength, you grab the closest enemy and pull them down with you into the depths of the Abyss, dragging their weapons into the chasm alongside you. You force them all to fall, ensuring they can’t escape with you, ensuring that Tartaglia gets the chance to survive.

"Go!" you scream one last time. "Now!"

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia, with every fiber of his being, refuses. His body trembles, his heart splintering into pieces as he watches you disappear into the darkness. He screams your name, his voice thick with despair and rage.

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia, when you’re gone, when you’ve been consumed by the Abyss and he’s left behind, alone with the silence, he’s never felt more hollow. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since you vanished—days, weeks, or mere minutes. Time has no meaning when you’ve lost the only thing that has ever mattered to you.

But he will find you.

His eyes darken with madness as he stands, his entire body burning with fury. He will never stop searching for you. You think you can escape him? He will tear apart the world, the Abyss, and everything between him and you. If it takes years, if it takes an eternity, he will find you.

The ring in his pocket feels like a weight he can’t carry without you, but he will find a way to make the promise real. The promise he made to you. To love you, forever.

He stands, his fists clenched. The hunt begins.

———

♡ Yandere! Wanderer, as his eyes narrow. "Stay close," he commands. The two of you fight side by side, effortlessly synchronizing your movements as you’ve done countless times before. You’re unstoppable—until today.

Suddenly, the world tilts. A strange force pulls at the very air around you. The weapons they wield are like nothing you’ve seen before. A barrage of magical projectiles rains down from every direction, each one more powerful than the last, each one seemingly tailored to exploit your weaknesses.

You’re fast, but not fast enough. Your energy wanes. Wanderer's face flickers with concern as he fights to protect you, but the odds are overwhelming. Then, one of them moves too quickly, too precisely. They strike at Wanderer with a vicious blow that sends him flying back. His body crashes to the ground, and you’re the first to rush to him to take the killing blow.

♡ Yandere! Wanderer, where you’ve fallen, your body slipping into the darkness to protect him—Wanderer watches in disbelief, his heart pounding in his chest as you’re consumed by the Abyss. His voice is raw, lost. “No… no, this can’t be happening.”

He rushes toward you, but the wave of enemies, their weapons tearing at the air, blocks him. His hands are shaking as he tries to reach you, but the moment is slipping away, too fast, too cruel. His mind is screaming for him to do something, anything, but the power of the Abyss pulls you further from him.

As the last of the darkness claims you, you look back. Your eyes are filled with pain, but also love, and the last words you whisper are enough to break him.

"Live, Wanderer," you say. "Live for us…"

♡ Yandere! Wanderer where his knees buckle, his world imploding in on itself as he screams your name. There’s no escaping the agony that claws at his heart. His mind turns dark, fueled by rage and desperation. How dare they? How dare they take you from him?

He grits his teeth, his hands shaking as he rises to his feet. “I’ll kill them all,” he growls, his voice hoarse with rage. “You won’t be forgotten. I swear on everything… I will make them pay.”

♡ Yandere! Wanderer stands, a man possessed, and the hunt for vengeance begins.

———

♡ Yandere! Kazuha, where, just as he’s about to finally put his plans into motion, to ask you the question that’s been burning in his mind for months, everything shatters. The campfire crackles behind him as he watches you, your eyes catching the last light of the setting sun. He’s so sure, so certain. The ring hidden in his pocket, the words ready to spill from his lips—but then the ground shakes.

A flash of darkness tears through the sky, and Kazuha's instincts scream that something’s wrong. He turns to find you, standing beside him, your hand brushing against his as if fate has already decided. But the moment is shattered, ripped away by the sound of swords clashing, the sudden pressure of cold, calculated death.

A figure in the shadows, their weapon gleaming with deadly precision, lunges at Kazuha. A dozen more emerge, surrounding you both, their weapons crackling with malicious energy. Their presence feels wrong. Their faces are hidden behind cold metal masks, and their movements are unnatural, almost mechanical.

Everything goes wrong too fast, too quickly. You don't hesitate to protect him with your very life, shielding him from a fatal blow, from an injury that could've killed him.

♡ Yandere! Kazuha, where the moment he sees you fall—your body consumed by the Abyss—he’s frozen, unable to move. He’s never felt fear like this before, the way it twists his insides, cold and sharp. You, the one who’s been his light in the darkness, the one who’s made him believe in something worth fighting for, are now gone.

His eyes are wide as he reaches for you, his heart breaking in his chest. “No… No, this can’t be real. You… you promised…”

But the Abyss has claimed you, and he’s left standing in the dark, the world crumbling around him. His hands tremble as he drops to his knees, his voice barely a whisper.

“I’ll find you,” he vows. “I swear I will. I will bring you back. I will make them pay for this.”

♡ Yandere! Kazuha stands, a storm brewing within him, his resolve hardening into something unbreakable. He will find you. And when he does, there will be no place that will ever be able to hide you from him again.

The hunt has begun.

────────────

The world feels like it’s crumbling around him. His heart pounds in his chest, and his hands tremble as he moves through the shadows, eyes searching desperately for any trace of you. He’s been hunting for days—no, weeks—losing himself in the search for the only person who’s ever truly mattered to him. The Abyss took you. They took his light, his love.

He’s driven, possessed by the desire to find you, to bring you back to him, to make everything right again. No obstacle is too great. No danger too perilous. Every step, every breath, every heartbeat is a reminder that he’ll stop at nothing to have you back.

And then, there he is. The Abyss Prince.

His blood runs cold, as he sees Aether standing there, his icy gaze locked onto the battlefield. And in the distance, he sees you—slumped, bloodied, barely conscious. His heart skips a beat.

“No,” He growls, his voice low and dangerous. His every instinct screams to run to you, to hold you, to protect you, but there’s a force that stops him. Something deeper, darker, something unnatural. He knows who’s responsible. It’s him. The Abyss Prince.

His hands curl into fists. His fury surges, but before he can make a move, a chilling, unbearable presence stops him. The world seems to slow.

Suddenly, a blade pierces his chest from behind.

He gasps, his breath catching in his throat as pain explodes through him. His hands shake as he tries to reach for the hilt, but his vision blurs. He looks over his shoulder and sees a familiar face—a face he never thought he’d see in this moment.

It’s you.

A mad gleam in your eyes, a cruel twist to your lips. Your posture, your expression, everything about you has changed. You’re no longer the playful, teasing soul he once knew. You’re cold, calculating, your emotions absent, as though the person he fell in love with is gone. All that remains is someone dangerous.

His heart shatters. His voice trembles as he gasps, “No… No, you—”

But before he can finish, the Abyss Prince steps forward, his cold gaze locking onto him. “You’re not allowed to kill him,” Aether says softly, the command in his voice undeniable. “Not yet.”

────────────

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia, where his confusion swirls into a storm. He stumbles back, watching as you step away from him, the blade still lodged in his chest, before the Abyss Prince gestures for something to happen. You don’t just leave him wounded—you restrain him, binding him with chains, powerful and unyielding, until he can’t move, can’t even see. His head is tilted back, his vision completely restrained completely by the thick, suffocating darkness of the chains.

He struggles, his breaths shallow, his heart racing. He can feel the cold weight of his situation—the desperation, the helplessness that’s taken root inside him.

“You…” Tartaglia’s voice is raw with fury, with disbelief, and with pain. “What did you do to her? What have you done to my wife?”

But you say nothing. You only scoff, as though the situation is beneath you, as though the man you once knew no longer matters. There’s no playfulness, no warmth, just a chilling, vacant emptiness where your love once was.

Tartaglia’s mind races. This can’t be happening. His wife—his wife—has been manipulated. He knows it. This is all the Abyss’ doing. You’re not like this. They’ve broken you, twisted you, made you into something else. They’ve taken you from him.

His frustration boils over, but he’s helpless. “I’ll kill him,” he growls through clenched teeth. “I’ll kill the Abyss Prince for what he’s done to you.”

But even as the words leave his mouth, he can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong—everything is wrong. He can’t focus. His mind is too clouded, too confused. All he wants is you back. And he’ll stop at nothing to have you again. Even if it means destroying everything in his path.

———

♡ Yandere! Wanderer, where the madness is overwhelming. It’s all so much—the pain, the frustration, the confusion—as he watches you in front of him, cold and emotionless, blade in hand, ready to kill. His thoughts spiral in a frenzy. This can’t be real. He refuses to believe it. You… you’re supposed to be his. You’re supposed to be with him. Yet here you are, ready to snuff his life out.

The Abyss did this to you, he knows it. They’ve taken his love and turned her into something else—something cruel, something empty. Something unrecognizable.

His hand shakes as he tries to reach for you, but the chains binding him keep him stuck. His vision is obscured. Every move he tries to make is futile, a cruel reminder of how powerless he is in this moment.

“Why?” he chokes, his voice thick with emotion. “Why are you doing this? I know they’ve manipulated you. I know you’re not like this.”

But you don’t speak. You just look at him, your eyes cold, devoid of any warmth. He can’t reach you, can’t get through to you.

The Abyss Prince stands by, silent, his eyes as cold as ice. He’s watching this—he’s letting this happen. The rage within Wanderer swells to a point where he can hardly breathe.

“No,” he snarls, pulling against the chains. “I will kill you. You will answer for this.”

But you just smile at him, that same cold, emotionless smile. And all Wanderer can do is watch as his love slips further from his grasp, bound by the chains of the Abyss.

———

♡ Yandere! Kazuha, where the world shatters around him as he watches you fall, as he watches you change into something that he no longer recognizes. The blade that once threatened his enemies is now raised to him, your eyes cold, indifferent to the pain he’s in. He’s unable to stop you, even as he feels the weight of the chains binding him, constricting him. You’re too far gone.

“Kazuha…” you murmur, but the words don’t feel right. They sound empty, distant. His heart cracks as he watches you, the woman he loves, standing before him, her emotions stripped away. You are a stranger now.

He gasps, trying to break free, trying to make sense of the situation. “What happened to you?” he whispers hoarsely. “Please, just… just come back. This isn’t you. This isn’t who I fell in love with.”

But you don’t answer. You only watch him, the gleam in your eyes nothing like the playful light he once knew. It’s cold, calculating, and it freezes him to his core.

And then Aether steps forward, his voice a soft command that stills Kazuha’s frantic mind. “You’re not allowed to kill him, not yet,” Aether reminds once more, his presence suffocating.

Kazuha’s breath catches, and his thoughts spin wildly. This can’t be real. You—you—you’ve been twisted. But Aether has the control here. The chains bind Kazuha tighter, his vision clouded by darkness, and all he can do is sit in silence, trapped, powerless.

“Why?” Kazuha chokes, frustration and fear flooding him. “Why are you doing this?”

Still, you don’t answer. You only step back, leaving him to face the Abyss alone, the chains around him tightening with every heartbeat.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia — The Fool's Heart

The battlefield is chaos, Tartaglia’s vision locked onto you. Aether stands at your side, the Abyss Prince exuding an otherworldly menace. Yet, Tartaglia doesn’t care. He’ll cut through anything and anyone to save you, his beloved, from the darkness that has ensnared you.

“Let her go!” Tartaglia snarls, voice cracking with desperation. His body screams from the injuries sustained in his relentless pursuit, but his heart burns hotter. His eyes flick to you—the source of his pain and salvation. “You don’t belong here! Come back to me!”

For a moment, his words seem to falter against your icy gaze. He knows you hear him, knows that somewhere in your heart, the person he loves still exists. But instead of the warmth he longs for, a cruel, mocking smile spreads across your lips.

“Come back?” you repeat, your tone dripping with false innocence. “Oh, Tartaglia, you poor, stupid fool.”

His breath hitches, confusion flashing across his face. Aether glances at you, silent but visibly amused, as though he’s watching a particularly entertaining performance. You turn to the Abyss Prince, patting his shoulder with an air of camaraderie that shatters Tartaglia’s world.

“He’s SO dumb,” you say with a cackle, tilting your head back to laugh. “Did he really think he was that special? That I cared? Oh, this is too good.”

Tartaglia stumbles back as if struck. “What… what are you saying?” he whispers, voice trembling.

“Everything, from the very beginning…” you start, pacing in front of him like a predator toying with its prey. “The teasing, the affection, the nights we spent together, the ‘sacrifices’ I made to protect you. All of it. A lie.”

He shakes his head violently, refusing to believe it. “No! You… you almost died for me! You saved me!”

You roll your eyes, brandishing the very blade you once used to fight by his side. “Please, Childe. That was just part of the plan. You were so much fun to manipulate, though. I’ll give you credit for that. Getting through your walls wasn’t easy.”

Tartaglia’s hands clench into trembling fists. His heart feels as if it’s being ripped apart. “You’re lying. This isn’t you. This is the Abyss! They’ve done something to you!”

“Oh, darling,” you croon, stepping closer to him. Your blade tilts his chin up, forcing him to look into your eyes. “I’ve always been like this. You were just too blind to see it.”

Aether’s voice cuts through the tension. “Enough.” The Prince’s command is calm, almost bored. “He’s served his purpose.”

You sigh, turning back to Aether. “Fine, fine. But can we please kill him now? This melodrama is getting tedious.”

Tartaglia’s vision blurs as the weight of betrayal crashes over him. He can’t reconcile the love he felt with the monster before him. Even as his body fails, his heart stubbornly clings to the hope that this is some cruel illusion.

———

♡ Yandere! Wanderer — Shackles of Betrayal

Wanderer’s indigo eyes are wide with disbelief, fixed on you as you stand beside Aether. The Abyss Prince’s presence is oppressive, but it’s your cold smirk that steals the breath from his lungs.

“Why are you doing this?” Wanderer’s voice cracks, his usual sharp wit replaced by a trembling vulnerability. “I trusted you. I… loved you.”

You tilt your head, feigning surprise. “Loved me? That’s sweet. But did you really think someone like me could love someone like you?”

The words hit him like a blow, but you’re not finished. You twirl a dagger in your hand, your movements lazy and confident. “Let me guess. You thought we were kindred spirits, two broken souls finding solace in each other? How… adorable.”

Wanderer’s rage flares, his chains rattling as he strains against them. “You liar! I’ll kill him! I’ll kill the Abyss Prince and get you back, no matter what it takes!”

Aether chuckles softly, and you laugh along with him, the sound grating against Wanderer’s raw nerves. “Kill him?” you echo. “Oh, darling, you couldn’t even touch him. And you think I want to be ‘saved’ by you? Don’t make me laugh.”

Wanderer freezes, the weight of your words sinking in. He studies your face, searching for any trace of the person he thought he knew, but all he finds is a stranger wearing your skin.

“Why?” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “Why would you do this?”

You shrug, tossing the dagger into the air and catching it effortlessly. “Because it’s fun. And because Aether needed a little help with a certain someone.” Your gaze sharpens, and for a moment, Wanderer sees the madness in your eyes. “You were just a pawn, dear. A very entertaining pawn, but a pawn nonetheless.”

———

♡ Yandere! Kazuha — The Storm’s Deceit

Kazuha kneels, his hands bound by unyielding chains, his soft crimson eyes filled with betrayal as he looks up at you. The gentle breeze that usually follows him is eerily still, as though the world itself mourns his heartbreak.

“I don’t understand,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “How could you… why would you do this?”

You sigh, as if exasperated by his naivety. “Oh, Kazuha. Always so poetic, so trusting. It’s almost endearing how much faith you put in people. Almost.”

He flinches at the derision in your tone. “You saved me. You risked your life for me. Was all of that a lie?”

You kneel before him, cupping his face with a mocking tenderness. “Not all of it,” you admit. “Some of it was necessary. After all, how else was I supposed to gain your trust?”

Kazuha’s breath hitches, his heart shattering into pieces he can hardly comprehend. “You used me,” he says, more to himself than to you. “You’ve been using me this whole time.”

“Bingo!” you chirp, pulling back and spinning on your heel. “Took you long enough to figure it out. Honestly, I was starting to think you’d never catch on.”

Aether steps forward, his presence a cold shadow that looms over Kazuha. “Are we done here?” he asks, his tone bored.

You glance at him with a pout. “Almost. Just let me have this moment. Watching him break is the best part.”

Kazuha’s head hangs low, his spirit crushed beneath the weight of your betrayal. Yet, even as despair overtakes him, a small ember of hope remains. He vows, silently and fiercely, to free you from the Abyss’ clutches—no matter what it takes.

You, however, have other plans. As you turn away, a cruel smile graces your lips. The game has only just begun, and you’re already thinking of your next move.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia — The Fool's Heart

The battlefield reeks of blood and fire, the aftermath of Tartaglia’s relentless pursuit of you. His breaths come ragged, his body battered, yet his gaze remains locked on you. Aether stands beside you, radiating the chilling authority of the Abyss Prince.

“You think this is over?” Tartaglia spits, his voice raw with determination. “I’ll tear apart this entire Abyss if I have to—just to bring you back.”

You laugh—a sound that is anything but warm. It’s a sharp, maniacal cackle, filled with scornful glee. “Back? To what, exactly? Your pathetic little life of lies and delusions?”

He flinches, but you’re already closing the distance between you. Your hand shoots out, grabbing him by the throat and lifting him off the ground with unnatural strength. His vision swims, yet he refuses to look away from you.

“You’re nothing without me,” you hiss, your grip tightening as his struggles grow weaker. “Do you honestly believe your love could save anyone, Childe? That I needed saving? How quaint.”

He gurgles something incoherent, but you only tighten your hold, leaning in close enough for him to feel your breath against his ear. “The only thing you’re good for is bleeding. Look at you, all this power, all this loyalty, and for what? For me to spit in your face?”

You release him suddenly, letting him collapse in a heap at your feet. He clutches at his throat, gasping for air, but you’re not done. Your boot presses against his chest, pinning him down.

“Don’t look so shocked,” you sneer, tilting your head like a predator savoring the kill. “Did you think I was some damsel in need of rescuing? No, darling. I’m the monster your nightmares warned you about.”

Tartaglia’s eyes blaze with despair and determination as he chokes out, “I’ll… I’ll kill him… take you back…”

Your laughter erupts again, wild and unhinged. “Kill him? Oh, sweetheart, you can’t even stand. You’re nothing but a pitiful fool—a fool who thought love could conquer someone like me.”

———

♡ Yandere! Wanderer — Shackles of Betrayal

Wanderer thrashes against the chains binding him, his indigo eyes burning with fury and disbelief. His usual sharp tongue fails him as he stares at you, standing beside Aether, a wicked grin plastered across your face.

“You’re insane,” Wanderer growls, venom dripping from every word. “Let me go, and I’ll make you regret this.”

You clap your hands mockingly, the sound echoing in the cavernous Abyss chamber. “Regret? Oh, sweetheart, regret is for people who make mistakes. I’m having too much fun watching you squirm.”

He lunges against the chains, his strength formidable but useless against the Abyssal restraints. “You lied to me!” he snarls. “Everything—you lied about everything!”

“Of course I did,” you say with a sing-song lilt, stepping closer. Your hands trail lazily over his face, your nails scraping just enough to hurt. “Did you really think someone like me could ever care about someone like you? A discarded puppet, a useless little doll?”

His expression twists with rage, but the vulnerability behind it is unmistakable. “You’re wrong,” he bites out. “You cared. I saw it. I felt it.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” you coo mockingly, before your voice drops, sharp as a blade. “Feel this.”

Your knee slams into his gut, forcing a pained gasp from his lips. You grab his hair, yanking his head back so he’s forced to look at you. “I never cared about you. You were just a stepping stone, a toy for me to break when I got bored. And guess what? I’m bored now.”

Aether chuckles behind you, his voice cold and amused. “You’re cruel,” he observes.

You flash him a wicked grin. “Why, thank you, my prince. I do aim to please.”

Wanderer’s voice is hoarse, filled with hatred and anguish. “I’ll kill him. I’ll kill you. You’ll regret this.”

Your laughter is pure insanity, ringing out like a bell of doom. “Try, little puppet. Try and fail, again and again. It’s the only thing you’re good for.”

———

♡ Yandere! Kazuha — The Storm’s Deceit

Kazuha kneels in chains, his crimson eyes filled with sorrow as he gazes up at you. The stillness of the air is suffocating, the calm before a storm that will never come.

“You…” he begins, his voice a broken whisper. “You were my compass. My home. How could you betray me like this?”

You crouch in front of him, your eyes alight with malevolent joy. “Betray you?” you echo, your tone mockingly sweet. “Oh, Kazuha, don’t flatter yourself. You were never that important to me.”

His breath hitches, but you don’t stop. You lean in, your lips brushing his ear as you murmur, “You were just a convenient tool, a way to pass the time. A pretty little plaything for me to use and discard.”

Kazuha flinches as if struck, his spirit cracking under the weight of your words. “You don’t mean that,” he says, but the tremor in his voice betrays his doubt.

You laugh, the sound a haunting melody of madness. “Oh, but I do. Every word. And do you know the best part? Watching you break, piece by piece.”

Your hand grips his chin, forcing him to meet your gaze. “You thought you could save me, didn’t you? That your love could heal whatever darkness you saw in me. How utterly pathetic.”

He trembles under your touch, his chains rattling as his hands ball into fists. “I’ll find a way,” he vows, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll free you from this darkness.”

You burst into laughter, throwing your head back in pure delight. “Free me? Oh, Kazuha, I am the darkness. There’s nothing to free me from.”

Aether steps forward, his presence a cold shadow beside you. “He’s done,” the Abyss Prince says. “Let him wallow in his failure.”

You stand, casting one last mocking glance at Kazuha. “Goodbye, my little storm. Try not to drown in your tears.”

As you walk away, Kazuha’s head hangs low, his heart shattered—but the fire of his resolve burns on.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Tartaglia — The Fool's Heart

The kiss you share with Aether is cruelly deliberate, a deep, searing display of mockery meant for the man crumpled at your feet. Tartaglia’s battered body trembles, his fists digging into the scorched ground as he watches, his chest heaving with a suffocating cocktail of pain and rage.

“Don’t look away,” you taunt, your lips still wet with the evidence of your betrayal. “This is the truth, Childe. This is all you ever were to me—something to laugh at.”

Aether scoffs, shoving you away, irritation flashing in his Abyssal gaze. But you only laugh, twirling back to face Tartaglia, your grin stretching wider as your gaze locks with his. Gone is the warmth he clung to, the person he thought he loved. In its place is a madness so stark, so twisted, it shatters whatever hope remained in his heart.

The realization crashes into him like a tidal wave—you never cared for him. Not once. Not even in the smallest, fleeting moment. His breath hitches, a dry, humorless laugh escaping his lips.

“I see it now,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse but laced with a dangerous calm. “You don’t deserve kindness. And I’ve been far too kind to you.”

Your grin falters, if only for a second, as he rises to his knees, his gaze blazing with something new—something unhinged.

“It’s too late to turn back,” he says, his tone eerily even. “I don’t need your love, or your lies, anymore. You’ll be mine, no matter what I have to destroy to make it happen.”

As Abyss subordinates drag him away, his eyes never leave yours, his smirk dark and foreboding. “Run, hide, laugh while you can. I’ll be coming for you. And when I do, you’ll regret every breath you ever stole from me.”

———

♡ Yandere! Wanderer — Shackles of Betrayal

Your lips crash against Aether’s, an act of derision that sends a violent shudder through Wanderer’s restrained form. His chains rattle as his whole body tenses, the burning in his eyes consuming what little humanity he’d clung to.

“You’re a fool,” you whisper against Aether’s lips before pulling away, your laughter slicing through the silence. The Abyss Prince wipes his mouth with a look of disdain, but your amusement only grows. You whirl around to face Wanderer, your grin a feral slash across your face.

“You never saw it, did you?” you sneer, your voice dripping with venom. “All that time, all those stolen moments—and you never noticed the madness in my eyes. You’re not a victim, Wanderer. You’re just another broken thing for me to play with.”

For a moment, he’s silent. Then, the corners of his lips twitch upward, forming a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Is that so?” he murmurs, his tone soft yet laced with something chilling. “You think this is over, don’t you?”

You tilt your head, intrigued by the shift in his demeanor.

“Go ahead,” he continues, his voice gaining strength. “Laugh, mock me, pretend you’ve won. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

The Abyss soldiers begin to drag him away, but his eyes stay fixed on yours, unyielding and terrifying.

“You’ve taken everything from me,” he says, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. “So now, I’ll do the same to you. Love? Hate? It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ll strip you bare, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left but me.”

And as he’s pulled into the shadows, his final words echo like a curse: “You’ll never escape me, not even in death.”

———

♡ Yandere! Kazuha — The Storm’s Deceit

Your kiss with Aether is theatrical, exaggerated, designed to carve deeper into Kazuha’s shattered heart. The Abyss Prince shoves you away, muttering something under his breath, but you laugh, spinning to meet Kazuha’s gaze.

“Did you think you were special?” you ask, your voice lilting with mockery. “That your poetry and promises could bind me to you? Oh, Kazuha, you were always chasing a storm you could never tame.”

Kazuha doesn’t respond, his crimson eyes fixed on yours with a quiet intensity. But the light in them has changed, twisted into something unrecognizable.

“You’ve lost,” you declare, turning away, but his voice stops you cold.

“Not yet,” he murmurs, his tone so calm it sends a chill down your spine.

You glance back, and the sight of him—the once-gentle warrior now smirking with a darkness that rivals your own—sends your pulse skittering.

“You think you’ve won,” he continues, his voice soft but deadly. “But this isn’t the end. It’s only the beginning.”

The Abyss guards move to haul him away, yet he doesn’t resist. His gaze remains locked on you, his smile growing as he speaks his final words.

“I’ll break you,” he says, his voice like a whispered promise carried on the wind. “Not with anger, not with hatred—but with love twisted into something you can’t escape. And when you’re mine, when you’re begging for the freedom you so carelessly destroyed, I’ll remind you of this moment. I’ll remind you who truly holds the chains.”

And as the shadows swallow him, his presence lingers, a storm on the horizon waiting to strike.

────────────

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♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology ♡ Book 2. 🔞Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires. ♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World. ♡ Book 4. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

[nickfowlerrr]

once more with feeling

pairing: professor!bucky barnes x curvy!actress!reader (reader is not a student)

warnings: mdni. no smut. flirting. i’d label this as soft horny if that were a thing lol. edward/guy moratz makes a short appearance. not much else really but self-indulgence at its finest. reader is probably minimum twenty five but you can imagine whatever age 21 and up you'd like and it should read alright.

words: 5185

notes: this was originally going to be a professor bucky x reader fic but then i got the idea for auditioning reader and then i thought oh! what if i wrote for my latest obsession - edward/guy! so then it was gonna be guy x actress reader but then i realized i kept picturing bucky and i’ve missed writing for him so then it changed again into professor bucky but now with actress reader and that’s where i landed with it even though i think this would work so well with guy as our guy and truth be told upon rereading myself i did start to picture him instead of bucky ha but ANYWAY this is buckys fic but if you wanna picture guy that works pretty well too 🤭 writing this was a nice distraction from the craziness of life lately and i hope you enjoy it. also just to say it - if you haven’t had the chance to watch a different man yet, you absolutely should. it’s great.

pls lmk your thoughts! i’d love to hear what you think. thank you in advance for reading! as always, comments and reblogs are so appreciated and more than welcome. 🩵

Goosebumps have risen all over your skin as you sit in the uncomfortable auditorium seat. Your legs are freezing thanks to the dress you don; despite its length, the fabric doesn’t provide much warmth and you can’t help but shake just a touch as another chill comes over you. You wrap your arms as tightly as you can around yourself but it too does little to help. The shrug cropped cardigan keeps your arms covered but the cold still chills - even inside the walls of this classroom auditorium.

This was a stupid idea, you accept far too late.

Granted, your planned outfit originally saw you in lined leggings to help fight the cold of the season, but after your little trip down the stairs on your way here - despite having held the skirt of the dress up to avoid such a fall to begin with! - you decided to toss the ripped and coffee soaked leggings and keep on instead of doing what the universe clearly was screaming at you to do: Go back to your apartment, take those god forsaken heeled shoes off, and put on something simpler. You were trying too hard.

Maybe you were. But you couldn’t care. You needed this. And when do you get to wear a dress like this on the daily? It fits the mood and works for the role without being a costume. You may feel a little uncomfortable, you don’t wear dresses out often, but you don’t think you’ve really made the wrong choice.

You were last on the audition sign in sheet so thankfully no one would be left to watch you the way you’d just studied the twelve other girls reading for this role.

They all dressed casually, had book bags with them, it was obvious they all attended this school. And here you were! A college dropout, overdressed in comparison, and clearly out of place.

Ah, you’re getting too in your head again. Always looking for a reason why something won’t go your way. But you’ve been working on that, and calling yourself out seems to help.

You take a deep breath as the last girl clears the stage and the casting table speaks amongst themselves.

You haven’t been able to see any of their faces, only the backs of their heads. You aren’t sure if there are students or faculty at the table with them but you figure it doesn’t really matter.

The casting call said all were welcome to audition - student or not. The location was only at the college because of renovations on the theatre in the city.

…It did say that, right? You’re not auditioning for a college show, right?

Your heart begins to pick up speed as you worry. Did you read it wrong? Were you making things up? You scramble for your phone and as you pull up the email the city theatre sent out last week, your name is called.

You don’t have the chance to reread it before you shut your phone off and tuck it away in your bag, placing it on your seat as you stand. You take a breath as you smile as confidently and friendly as you can and make your way down to the stage.

“That’s me,” you say as they watch you.

Finally you’re able to see their faces and as you make eye contact with each of them you can feel them sizing you up. Three people sit at the folding table before the stage and one man sits a bit further back in the second row of auditorium seats. He has yet to look up from his book and you realize you hadn’t noticed him at all earlier.

A younger man at the casting table, no more than 30 if you’d had to guess, tilts his head as he watches you ascend the few steps to the stage.

“So,” he states your name again, “do you attend classes here?”

“No,” you answer with a small shake of your head, “no I’m not a student.” You work to maintain your easy smile as you feel all eyes on you.

The man nods and turns to speak to the man still sitting and reading behind him. “Well, Mr. Barnes,” he gets his attention finally, “no pressure to stay. All the students have been seen, you’re free to go. This is the last audition for the day then we’ll be out of your hair.”

“Until tomorrow when you’ll take over my auditorium again,” he rumbles lowly as he stares at the man who is still looking at him.

You swallow hard as you do the same. His eyes are bright despite his obvious annoyance, his dark hair pushed back as he tries to keep it out of his face, only a couple silver strands shining through the dark chestnut brown; the stubble that covers his jaw adds to his air of gruffness - the spot of gray near his chin adding to his appeal. He’s tall, you gather as your eyes move down his body, his long legs. He wears dark slacks and a baby blue button up dress shirt tucked into his pants. The sleeves are rolled up his forearms and the top couple buttons of his shirt are undone, giving just a hint at his chest hair and the chain that hangs around his neck.

You realize you’re staring as you hear the voice of the younger man responding to Mr. Barnes, but you don’t hear what he’s saying as you force yourself to look away. Your eyes blink up and you’re caught. His blue eyes are on you, brows furrowed and his expression unreadable. You quickly look away and pretend you weren’t doing a thing as you wait for them to give you the go ahead.

Some more words are exchanged as they seem to try and appease the man whose classroom they are in. You’re not entirely paying attention to the conversation as you run your lines in your head for the millionth time.

You know the words. You know the part. You’re not worried, necessarily. But you haven’t booked a single thing in the past eight months and to say that hasn’t shaken your confidence in yourself even just a little bit would be a lie. But you’re getting back to your roots. You’ve missed the theatre. It was and will forever be your first love. This is your first stage audition in a while though, and your first experience with this theatre. Since moving to the city, you swore you’d audition for one of their shows but just never got around to it as your focus shifted to film. This is your time now. Is it going exactly how you’d envisioned it’d go? Well, you’re standing in a university campus auditorium instead of the stage at the Fervent Fires Theatre to audition, so, no. But that’s okay! You have a good feeling about this. And as you stand here, you feel more and more relaxed. It’s kind of bringing you back to your high school days - the annoyed teacher having to share the auditorium with the annoying theatre people. It’s funny.

And after seeing the other girls audition you really don’t feel too stressed. Most of them were late teens auditioning for Elmire. Despite the fact you played her in your late teens, too, that was simply because the production was full of other teens and young adults. You’re definitely more of the right fit even now. You’ve seen some of the theatre's productions before and who and how they tend to cast. Granted this is second day auditions and everyone else who has been seen might be in your league, but you won’t dwell on who you may be compared to - and you kind of needed the confidence boost today.

You take a breath and remind yourself you know what you’re doing. Whether you get a callback or not, just being on a stage again, acting in front of people again, you’ve needed this. It’s good.

You come back to yourself, out of your head and more at ease and hear Mr. Barnes as he speaks.

“And I appreciate being ‘free to go’ but I’m fine right where I am. Seeing as how this is my classroom, I’m sure that won’t be a problem.”

“Oh, no, of course not. I just meant that if you wanted to go, you were free to, are free to, do, ya know, whatever you want. We were under the impression you were required to be here as a faculty member during student’s auditions, but, uhm, yes, of course. We aren’t trying to push you out or anything,” he smiles before nervously clearing his throat and turning back to face the table. He shuffles around the papers before him and you see him pull your headshot and resume to the front of his stack, grabbing his notes and pen before turning his gaze to you.

“Alright, sorry about that. You can start whenever you’re ready.”

Their eyes are all on you. The casting table, and the man behind them. He’s set his book down next to him, has his hands folded in his lap as he sits back in his seat, casual and intent all at once, while his brilliant blue gaze is set right on you.

-

The audition is a blur, it goes by so fast. As you thank them for their time, you’re surprised when they offer you more information they hadn’t given out before.

“Callbacks will be next Tuesday and they’ll be at the actual theatre. We’ve been under construction all month but should be good to go next week. We appreciate you taking the time to come audition here, we know it’s a little out of the way in comparison.”

“Not a problem at all, it actually isn’t too far from me,” you smile.

“Good, well, keep a look out for an email with more details and…” the director on the end of the table looks up to you as if she’s catching herself from revealing a secret, then sighs, “ah, screw it, you’re definitely on the callback list,” she smiles, “we’ll see you there.”

“Amazing,” you breathe, “I’m looking forward to it. Thank you again, so much,” you can’t help your grin as you walk closer to the steps of the stage.

The casting table packs their things as you walk past them back to where you were sitting before. You’d left your bag and half drinken coffee so you make to go get it. As you pass the first few rows, you feel Barnes’ stare again, this time only fleeting as his name is called from the young man who spoke to him before.

“This table?”

“You can leave it,” he states, sounding bored.

“Okay. Thank you again for letting us use the stage, we really do appreciate it.”

You don’t hear him reply as you hear the casting team leave out the door.

The realization you’re the last one left intruding on this man has you hurrying up.

Until you hear his voice again.

“You were good.”

You turn at the compliment, wide eyed as you see him coming closer up the steps. Your heart seems to skip a beat and you wonder what he’s doing until he bends down a few rows before you and picks up an empty coffee cup someone must have left earlier.

You’re caught a bit off guard but force your mouth to work after a second, “Thank you.”

“Yeah,” he nods as he stands back up straight. You watch as he tosses it easily into the trash can at the bottom of the stairs before he turns back to look at you again.

You were right. He’s tall, and somehow even more attractive than you’d originally thought now that you’re seeing him even closer.

“I’m no director, but from what I’ve seen yesterday and today, if I was casting, you’d be it.”

“Oh,” you feel your face warm despite how cold the auditorium still is, “that’s,” you laugh a little under your breath, “that’s really nice to hear, thank you.” You have to look down as his gaze is just a little too much for you right now. You don’t need to fall down another set of stairs today and if you let yourself get lost in those ocean blue eyes of his, you’re almost certain you will.

“You seem more shy off stage than you do on,” he comments, taking another step up the stairs, another step closer to you.

“Yeah,” you titter nervously, “um, I’m an actor, ‘m pretty good at faking it when I have to.”

He raises his brow at your unintentional innuendo and immediately you catch yourself. You feel like you’re on fire and you see something in his eyes, almost like he’s working himself up to reply as he takes the last step he needs to be on the same level as you.

“You fake it a lot?”

Your lips move as if you have words to speak but nothing comes out as he stares at you and you stare back.

God, he smells good. And he’s so tall. And muscular. And pretty.

You blink as you try to break yourself free from this trance.

Is he hitting on you? You don’t even know this man’s name and yet there’s a fluttering in your tummy at the way he’s eyeing you. His gaze roves down your body, over your soft curves that are accentuated by the corset dress hugging you. His tongue darts out as he wets his lips seemingly without thought and that familiar desire that’s been plaguing you the last six months since your breakup has you fidgeting where you stand. He’s so effortlessly hot and the thought of getting on your knees right here and now for him hits you out of nowhere and only burns you further. Wow, where did that come from?

You haven’t been with anyone since you ended things with Nick, and you may be horny, but you’re not desperate… Are you?

You swallow hard and extend your hand to him, offering him your name as you do. He smiles with a deft chuckle, looking from your hand back up to your eyes before he takes your hand in his, seeming to ease some tension in him you hadn’t noticed before. Maybe not tension, maybe anxiousness? But no, that couldn’t be it. His smile is so easy there’s no way the word confident wouldn’t be in your top choices to describe him.

“James,” he supplies as you shake his hand. His big, warm hand that you can’t help but imagine the weight of if he were to place it on your waist. He squeezes you just a bit and another wave of your sudden desire rolls through you.

“Nice to meet you,” you say, sounding a lot more sultry than you ever intended. His lips quirk and he takes a second before he responds, again, you get the funny feeling he’s working himself up to say what he does.

“Can I be honest with you?” he asks bluntly, waiting for your nod before he continues. “I saw you staring at me when you were on stage.”

Okay. Ha. Wow. You’re so hot you wouldn’t be surprised if steam was coming off your cheeks. God, you could just explode from your mortification at his words. Is he really calling you out like this, right to your face? Your cheeks are burning and you don’t know what to say. You suck your lips in your nervousness as you inhale a breath through your nose, letting your lips go as you suck your teeth when you release them. You look down as your tongue runs along the edges of your teeth. A nervous habit when you’re at a loss for words as you let out a breathy titter at being caught and having it brought up.

You hear a light laugh from him before your breath is stilled when he gently touches your chin, his touch warm as he tilts your face up so you’re looking at him once again.

You’re stalled in a sort of awe as his eyes seem to twinkle at you.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed,” he assures you, his voice smooth as silk, “I was staring back.”

The soft smirk on his lips lights you up as you unthinkingly wet your own. In any imagined scenario you would never have thought you’d be so receptive to a stranger coming on this strongly - so boldly and up front. But here you are. Receptive as hell. There’s something about him, about his approach, that has you even more attracted to him than you were at first glance…er, stare. His voice, his attitude, the way he’s looking at you. As if he knows exactly what he wants, and he’s going for it. As if the very thing he wants right now, is you.

“Your eyes alone are captivating, but there’s something else about you,” he muses, “you got on stage and it was like I couldn’t look away.”

You almost have to force yourself to take a breath before you can talk. “The dress,” you quip with a small shrug.

“The dress,” he looks down at your body once more, a funny fluttering setting your core alight under his gaze, “well it definitely helped. It’s nice,” he compliments, his hand reaching to touch the fabric and grazing your hip. At his touch his eyes flick up to gauge your reaction and, seeing what you’re sure is a dreamy like haze, he goes on. “Look, I have to teach a class here in half an hour so I’m just gonna cut to the chase,” he says, a hint of an east coast accent slipping in and becoming clearer in his voice as he speaks, “I think you’re gorgeous. And I think you might think I’m not so bad myself,” he half smiles as his lips twitch. “I know this is forward,” his eyes meet yours once more, “and there’s no expectation here.”

Your brows raise despite yourself as you wait for him to go on. He licks his lips again and takes a step closer to you.

“Do you wanna have sex with me?”

You inhale sharply as you pause, your lips parting with the breath.

Weirdly some far off part of you was kind of expecting that was where this was leading, but in the very same breath, you really were not expecting him to say that. Your mouth goes dry and your mind goes blank as you try and process his words. You know your immediate, no thought involved answer. But surely, this calls for some thought, doesn’t it?... It’s not like anonymous sex isn’t a thing, it’s just never been your thing. But you do have the rest of the day free and you’re riding on a kind of confidence high at the moment, and god is this man tempting.

A small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he stares at you, studying you and waiting for your yes or no.

“You do this a lot?” you ask instead.

He breathes a soft chuckle, “Never, actually,” he shakes his head, “but I’ve been out of the game for a while, recently been told I need to put myself out there, and I guess I don’t really know how to be anything other than direct these days.”

“Hm,” you look into his bright eyes, a sincerity there you don’t find in people often these days, “I guess I can appreciate that.”

“Is that a yes?”

Fuck it, you think. You’ve been pushing past your normal comfort zones all day. What’s a little sex with a hot stranger? …Right? You’re seconds away from saying yes, how could you not, you egg yourself on, but you figure you should make this as clear as you can. Not that his answer has much chance of changing yours.

“Is this just sex? Or…” you trail off.

“At the very present moment,” he specifies, “just sex.”

You nod in easy understanding, readily taking it for what it is, but he continues on.

“And if you wanna leave it at that, we’ll leave it at that, but if you’re interested in dinner later tonight, too, I’d be glad to buy. Pick you up and everything.”

“Oh, what a gentleman,” you simper with a titter you can’t suppress. “Okay.”

“Yeah?” he asks.

“Mhm,”

“Sex?”

You nod with a smirk as he closes the gap between your bodies.

“Right now?” he adds again, getting the same response as you smile against his lips when he leans in closer.

He kisses you. You’re immediately lost to him as his lips touch yours, his stubble tickling your soft skin. It’s surprisingly tentative, slow and soft at first, like he’s testing the waters between you. After a long moment, he decides to pull away, not too far, only parting for a split second. You're struck by the fleeting feeling of his lips being on yours, it steals your breath as you mindlessly lean into him immediately looking for more. Your eyes meet again, there’s a glimmer of shared recognition and you know he feels the same, and then his lips are on yours even more hotly. You’ve always thought people were dramatic when they spoke about having sparks with someone, that it wasn’t a real experience, just hyperbole… exaggeration, but you’re realizing now you just hadn’t ever experienced it before. That spark, that zing, it is real. It must be, because as crazy and sudden as it is, you think you have it here.

His hand comes to hold your head, keeping you close as he leads you. You might be embarrassed by the way you melt into him if you were thinking of anything other than how good his touch is and how perfect his lips seem to meld with yours.

You’re filled with a thrilling excitement you don’t know you can compare to anything you’ve felt before. This is new and nice and as the kiss deepens, your nerves turn from jittery butterflies in your belly to a smoldering desire that burns lower and lower. His firm body is pressed to your soft one and his free hand falls to the tail of your back, holding you closer and keeping you there against him before his hand snakes to your hip, wandering up your curves as he feels as much of you as he can. Your own hands are against his stomach as you chase his kiss, fingers fisting the fabric of his button down shirt.

James nips at your bottom lip and you give him entry without a pause, his tongue slipping in your mouth as he kisses you fervently, like something out of a movie. You’ve never been in a situation like this, and you can say with certainty you’ve never been kissed like this either.

You let your hands slide up his torso until you find the first button. As if you’ve done it a million times, you easily begin the tedious task of unbuttoning each one - though you take your time, not wanting to break any as you’re still caught in his hold, still lost in his kiss.

You hate having to break away but you need a breath and despite the loss of contact with your lips, James’ continues to travel along your skin. From your cheek to your jaw and down your neck as you angle yourself to allow him more access, all the while your fingers do their work and your breathing turns heavier. Once the buttons are undone you pull the tails of his shirt from his pants. His hands are still on you, feeling you as he kisses your delicate skin.

Your hands stabilize yourself by holding his sides as he yanks you closer to him still. He’s much thicker than he looked, you realize as you touch him. Your hands wander up his back, wanting to get his undertank off as soon as humanly possible so you can really feel the muscles there.

He brings an arm around your waist and his other hand glides down your back until he gets to your bottom, groaning in your neck as he squeezes you there.

“Buck?”

A loud voice breaks the trance the two of you have been under and causes you to jump as you hear the doors closing and footsteps coming around the side staircase, bringing a different man into view.

You’re startled, and James gallantly moves you just behind him despite your still fully clothed state. You’re still grateful though, you know you must look a little mussed, your cardigan falling down your arms and James’ undone shirt hardly producing any air of innocence about what was unfolding just moments ago.

“Oh, sorry,” the man starts with inquiring eyes, looking between the both of you. He’s just as tall as James and has eyes just as blue. He’s clean shaven, though and not as bulky. Still, they look like they could be brothers. “Professor?” he asks, “Am I interrupting something?”

“She’s not a student, Guy,” James responds, annoyance clear as day in his voice. “I’m not Drysdale.”

“Right,” Guy says on a light, breathy laugh, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He seems uncomfortable at the mention. You see him as he eyes James’ still undone shirt.

“What do you need, Guy?” James asks firmly, getting his eyes back on him.

“It can wait,” he brushes off, “just wanted to say thanks for letting the theatre use the stage again, we appreciate it.” His eyes flick to you and he seems to make a connection. “Elmire?”

Your eyes meet his in surprise, “Um, yeah,” you nod with a small smile, shifting your weight from one leg to the other, arms crossed over your chest.

“Tartuffe,” he gestures to himself with a smile of his own. You suddenly recognize him and take a step forward.

“Wait, did I see you in Death of a Salesman the other month?”

“Yes,” he smiles even more sincerely now, “yes, it’s the year of the classics at the theatre,” he chuckles.

“Right, yeah, you were incredible. Really great performance,” you compliment him.

“Thank you very much. I heard good things just now about your audition, I’m assuming you’re -,”

James interrupts Guy by supplying your name himself, causing you both to look at him. You fight a smile at the sound of it on his lips.

“Well then,” Guy looks back toward you, clearing his throat a bit, “I will be seeing you at your callback,” he turns to James, “and I will be seeing you in the office later.”

He takes a step back, “It was nice to meet you, and thank you again, Bucky.”

The name catches your attention as Guy walks off and James turns back to face you.

He sighs as he looks at you, reaching for your hand which you allow him to take.

His touch is deceptively delicate and you can’t pretend you don’t like it.

“Bucky?” you question. He meets your gaze and gives a sheepish half smile.

“Nickname.”

You nod, “Ah. Makes sense,” you lilt, holding his eye. “Suits you.”

“You can call me Bucky if you’d like. Like the way it sounds when you say it.”

You huff a laugh, looking away. He continues on, “I’m sorry for that interruption, I uhm,” he let’s go of your hand and moves to start buttoning his shirt back up, “I think we’re gonna have to try this again later,” he pauses, glancing back to you, “if you’re still-,”

“I am,” you smile, cutting him off.

He finishes tucking in his shirt and then immediately takes another step closer to you.

His eyes are scrutinizing in the best way as he takes your face gently in his hands, your own coming to hold his wrists; his bright gaze shining into your own. It feels intimate but strangely…right.

“I guess I should be thanking Guy,” he muses. Your brows furrow in unvoiced questioning. His lips quirk at the face you make. “I was taking the advice of someone I’d never normally take advice from being so forward with you. Honestly, it’s not really me,” he admits, admiring the soft smile of your own gracing your lips at his words. “I’m more of the courting type.” You laugh brightly at his choice of words as he smirks. “Old fashioned, I know.”

“No, that’s..That’s good. More my speed. I was uh, stepping a little ways out of my comfort zone with this myself.”

The want that had been burning between you two wasn’t exactly boiling over at the moment, but despite the space between you now, it was still there... Call it a low simmer.

He pulls you closer as you wet your lips and his nose brushes yours. You’re certain he’s about to kiss you and your eyes flutter shut but instead, Bucky pulls away. He lets you go as he bites his own lip and you both hear the opening of the door again before you hear multiple footsteps follow in.

“My class is starting soon. But,” he gets his phone from his back pocket and hands it to you, “we’re still on for dinner?”

You take his phone with a demure smile, feeling somewhat grateful for the shift in direction, and send yourself a text message, saving your contact in his phone before handing it back, his fingers grazing your own. “I’d really like that.”

Students begin to file in and get seated around the auditorium as you stand with Bucky.

You turn to grab your bag and your coffee cup, then face him again. You glance around and notice you’re still relatively alone, most of the students have sat toward the middle of the auditorium, and no eyes seem to be on you, but you keep your voice low anyway.

“And I do get it if you really want to go slow here, but, if you want to…ya know, try this,” you raise your brows, hoping to communicate your meaning, “again, tonight, I’d be up for that, too.”

He nods, a schoolboy smile on his lips as he admires you.

Your lips twitch with a smile of their own, “I’ll see you later.”

You feel a renewed giddiness as you turn from him and he returns your ‘bye’. His eyes are on you as you make your way down the steps and follow you until he can’t any further. You liked the feeling.

Call you crazy, but you think you just might be developing feelings for Bucky already as it is, despite not knowing much more than he seems to be a kind man, gentle, confident, insanely attractive…. You wouldn’t be surprised if this dinner solidified those feelings and more, even further. You’re looking forward to talking with him, really getting to know him.

You may not be one for sex with a stranger, but sex after the first date doesn’t sound too out there for you... Especially not when that date is with Bucky.

[whatiswrongwithpeople]

I keep going over the world we knew (p.2)

a player 230/ Thanos/ Su-Bong x fem!reader fic

summary: “It had always been him and her against the world. But if you've been fighting against the world for years, how do you react when you suddenly realize that your best friend has become your world?”

warnings: none really except the usual Thanos/Squid Game stuff. Maybe slightly ooc Thanos? , Written in my notes app.

note: not gonna lie, I originally planned for this to only have 2 parts BUT I decided taking my time with it and all that gives it a nice pace.

Hope you enjoy!!!

🏷️: @l5byrinth , @wpdarlingpan , @lollipopsandstuff

Part 1 <3

The night after the second game was far too quiet for Thanos to ignore the gnawing feeling that had settled in his chest ever since coming back to the dorm. He had survived the games with a cold mix of calculated precision and blasting his brain to the moon with drugs. But neither the success , nor the growing amount of money in the ever present piggy bank was enough to drown out the nagging ache in his ribs when he thought of [Y/N].

His [Y/N].

The way she moved with a sense of confidence and purpose that was simply too authentic to be fake. The way she had shut him out so quickly, eyes never seeming to truly look at him. Gods did he long for that familiar gaze to land on him. To rediscover that warmth he had once found in it. By now it had been years since Thanos had last spoken to her—since he’d ruined everything. But the memories, the raw, untouched feelings, were still there. Unforgiven. Unwavering. Never truly gone.

And as much as he hated to admit it, he couldn’t keep pretending that this wasn’t affecting him. Not even with several of his colourful pills pumping through his system.

Thanos’ eyes drifted across the darkened room, only stopping when he had found [Y/N]’s form a few beds down from his. She was sitting there, still as stone, eyes staring straight ahead with that same unreadable expression she had been wearing ever since the first game. Not a single word had passed between them since their brief interaction during the last game. But ,despite how it might seem, Thanos wasn’t stupid. He could feel the tension in the air whenever their paths crossed.

He wasn’t used to feeling this way. Especially not when his survival instincts kicked in so loudly, demanding every ounce of his energy to focus on the prize. “Win the money , pay off your debt.” had become the silent mantra in his brain. But that was the thing with [Y/N], she had always been able to pull at the strings of something deep inside him, something far more complicated than any strategy or skill. Something deeply ,deeply personal.

“Hey do you think I could-“ Nam-Guy -or whatever his name was- popped into Thanos’ field of vision. With an annoyed sigh, the purple haired player stood up. “Not now.” He muttered, putting both of his hands on the boy’s shoulders, turning him to the bed next to his. “Talk to him instead.” Baffled Nam-Gyu looked over his shoulder, surprise in his voice as he exclaimed a “What-“. But Thanos was already halfway across the room, shoes making quiet thuds against the floor as he made his way over to [Y/N]’s cot.

“You know,” Thanos came to a halt on one of the lower steps that rested between the beds, resting his arms on [Y/N]’s mattress as he propped up his head. Thanos’ voice was calm. Almost too calm to [Y/N]’s ears, judging by the gravity of the situation they had found themselves in. “Staring at the wall isn't going to change anything."

Thanos leaned against the bed frame, his usual cocky smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he watched [Y/N]. She was sitting still as a stone with an expression colder than ice. Not once had she bothered to look at him since he had approached her bed, and that infuriated him.

“Are you really gonna sit there like you don’t know who I am?” he drawled, his voice dripping with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. “You know, I’m starting to feel like a ghost. And I’m not really the type to fade into the background, you know?”

[Y/N] fought the urge to roll her eyes, choosing to ignore the purple haired pain-in-the-ass who she had once called her best friend.

“Well, if it helps, I can try and get a little more dramatic,” Thanos said, pushing himself off the bedframe in order to lean in closer, reducing the distance between them. “Maybe I’ll do a little tap dance or something. You seem like you’d appreciate the effort.”

At that [Y/N] finally glanced at him, but only for a brief moment, before turning her gaze back to the wall. "You’re a real piece of work, Su-Bong," she muttered under her breath, but still loud enough for him to catch the venom in her words. He chuckled.

“Yeah, I know. I’m one of a kind.” His voice was playful, but there was an edge to it, a challenge in his tone. “And I’m starting to think you don’t even remember who I am anymore.” [Y/N] shot him a glance, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Oh, I remember exactly who you are, Su-Bong. And that's the problem."

The words hit him like a splash of cold water, but he refused to let it show. He leaned in closer, deliberately invading her space, his eyes gleaming with that familiar cockiness. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

She met his gaze with a fiery intensity. “It means that you left. You walked away, and I’m still here, cleaning up your mess. So yeah, I remember you. And I remember how it felt to have you pull away like I meant nothing.”

Thanos laughed, but it was dry, forced. “Jesus, you’ve got a way with words, don’t you? You know, I thought you’d be more fun to mess with, but I forgot how good you were at throwing guilt trips. Really good.”

“Guilt trips?” [Y/N] turned her body to face him fully now, her eyes flashing with a mix of fury and sheer hurt. “No, Su-Bong, this isn’t about guilt. It’s about the fact that you’re standing there, pretending like it’s all fine now, when you did leave. You disappeared, and now you expect everything to just magically go back to how it was? Is that it? You think I’ve been sitting here waiting for you to waltz back in with your pretty purple hair and expect me to just forgive you?”

Thanos smirked. “I don’t expect anything from you. But you might want to reconsider that little attitude of yours. It’s really not helping the situation.”

“You think I care about your situation?” she snapped, her voice louder. “You think I’ve been sitting here, all starry-eyed, just waiting for you to get your shit together? Newsflash: I’m done doing that. I’m done with you, Su-Bong.”

The weight of [Y/N]’s words hung heavy in the air, the tension between the estranged pair was palpable. Thanos was about to speak again, something sharp and cutting on the tip of his tongue, when the loudspeaker's monotone voice sliced through the silence, calling the players to line up for food.

Without as much as a glance, [Y/N] brushed past Thanos as though he were invisible, the force of her shoulder knocking him slightly off balance. Her gaze was firmly locked onto the middle of the room as she began walking toward the food line, every step measured, holding that unwavering confidence.

For a moment, Thanos stood there, frozen in place. The argument had been abruptly interrupted, but the sting of her words and her rejection lingered in the air like smoke. As the others began to shuffle toward the line, he realized there was nothing left to say—at least, not now. The silence between them was louder than any argument ever could be.

[justanothermemestrider]

Nothing Ever Stays Dead - Part 1

Gadriel x Childhood Friend OC

Inspired by @beckyninja ' Titus x Reader fics and @hatsubara-8chan' s Titus x Theia art. Thank you guys for giving me the confidence and inspiration to finally do something with my own oc :)

I know x reader stuff is my forte, but it would mean so much if you guys checked this series out too. It was super fun to write and I think you all will really enjoy it.

As always, apologies for grammar and spelling mistakes. While this part is sfw, some future parts will be nsfw but I'll note that up the top. Typical 40kness and violence, also I've just gone and made up an entire og backstory for Gadriel lol.

Hope you guys enjoy! And thank you so much for reading xoxox

Love, Memestrider :)

Ellicent sobbed into his shoulder, soaking his collar and staining it dark. She'd been like this for ages; she didn't know how many, but it was enough that the grimy windows in front of them had darkened to black slabs with the disappearance of the sun and rolling in of night. She felt embarrassed by it. Ashamed. Kids down here lost their parents all the time, and her Dad had been sick for a long time. Knowing that should've made it easier, but it didn't. Her heart was still shattered. Her soul split in half by a stake of grief and anguish. She sobbed like a baby. Like a weak thing that the Underhive should and would eat alive.

But he didn't seem to mind.

His grip was as gentle as it was tight, as if he were trying to wring the sadness from her very being. He stroked her hair, rubbed her back, let her hide her face in the crook of his neck.

"I'm sorry, Ellie," he said. He'd said it many times before, but this one was no less genuine or earnest. Ellicent's throat ached too much to reply, so she only shook her head.Tentatively, he drew away from her. Not enough to break their embrace all together: just enough so he could look her in the eye.

"You know we have to leave him here, right?"

Swallowing another sob, Ellicent nodded. Down here, there were no medical services or law enforcement to collect the dead: there were only scavengers and cannibals. They'd find her Dad eventually, but if they kept her Dad in here, he might stay safe for a little longer.

"I know," she said. "But... but what about me? I can't- I can't stay here."He answered without hesitation or thought. "You can come stay with me."

"Wha- what?"

"I know Mum will let you. And if she says no, I'll make her. But she won't say no. I know she won't."

A dozen questions sat on Ellicent's tongue, but she was either too tired or too sad to ask. Sinking into his arms again, she wiped her eyes on his shoulder. "Okay."

"It'll be okay, Ellie. I promise, it'll be okay." Ellicent closed her eyes.

"Thank you, Gadriel," she whispered.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Remind me," Chairon says, using the box so he could be heard over the rumble of the Thunderhawk. "Which xenos is our target supposedly allied with?"

Gadriel checks the slide of his bolter for the umpteenth time.

"The dark eldar," he replies. "Specifically, the pack that has made this planet their favoured hunting ground."

"What about the necrons?"

"What about them?"

"Did the briefing not state that Severus' gang often makes use of necron technology?"

"It did," Gadriel says. "But that technology is stolen. Pillaged from only the Emperor knows where."

Through the static of the vox, Chairon's scowl sounds particularly vicious. "Damned heretics. Have they no pride or dignity to speak of at all?"

"Of course they don't."

Gadriel looks to his left where Titus sits beside him. Like his and Chairon's, the face of the lieutenant's helm is cast as a mouthless, red eyed glare. Somehow, though, Titus' glare appears even more intimidating.

"Creatures like Severus are among the worst kind of heretic," he says. "Chaos can corrupt the unwilling. Mutancy can affect the innocent. But to work with the alien? To turn one's back on their own species? That is a choice. One that is made willingly, without coercion or subterfuge.

"An uneasy silence settles across the vox. For a long while, the only sound comes from the roar of the Thunderhawk's engine and the collective of the three Astartes' power armour. Eventually, Gadriel is the one to break it by clearing his throat.

"Forgive me for saying so, sir. But, it sounds as if you speak from experience."

Titus turns his head towards Gadriel. The dim bar lights lining the Thunderhawk's interior reflect sharply off the golden laurels welded around his helmet's crown.

"You remain as sharp as ever, brother," the lieutenant remarks. "And you would be right. Severus' gang is not the first group of xenos collaborators I've encountered."

He pauses for a second. "As I said, they are the worst kind of heretic. Worse than political dissenters or atheist zealots. By a long, long way."

Silence falls once more. This time, however, it is morose. Sober. Behind his helmet, Gadriel chews the inside of his cheek in thought. It's a habit he's had ever since he was a boy- one so innate, not even Astartes re-education could snuff it out. He's reviewing the mission briefing in his head. Specifically, the intelligence regarding their target. Archibald Severus- a rogue trader turned planetary crime lord. Typically, such a man would not be a concern for the Astartes- such things were usually handled by the Inquisition alone. But Severus has been particularly problematic; almost all of his people wield necron weaponry and his Drukhari allies have all but brought the planet to its knees. Also, the Ultramarines just so happened to be in the area. Fortunate for the people who live here, though not so much for Severus. The last thought amuses Gadriel enough to make him smile. Yes. Very unfortunate for him indeed.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The Thunderhawk drops the fireteam amidst the exterior district of a hive city. The street upon which it lands is wide, dusty and long abandoned. Blade and plasma scars line the walls of every surrounding building, reminders of the countless dark eldar attacks the city has endured over Severus' tenure here. The Astartes quite literally hit the ground running. Bolters in hand, their objective's location marker pulsing in the top centre of their heads up displays. The objective in question is a warehouse- once a hangar for Imperial Guard aircraft, now just as abandoned as the rest of the district. Severus will supposedly be there, though the exact reasons why are unknown. But that doesn't matter to Gadriel. If the man is there, he will die. As surely as the blood of the Primarch flows through Gadriel's veins, that traitorous xenos-sellout will die.

The warehouse in question emerges from around the next street corner. It looks like a giant concrete brick dropped in the middle of the district block. Gadriel falls in behind his brothers, covering the rear while Titus leads the way and Chairon covers their flanks from the centre. But the area is empty. As if the entire district had been evacuated or disappeared. Considering what this place has endured over the last several years, that is probably not far from the truth.

"Gadriel," Titus says over the vox, breaking Gadriel's reverie. "Auspex."

The team halts against a nearby wall. The warehouse is now directly in front of them. Moving in perfect unison, Gadriel switches position with Chairon. He sidles up beside Titus, takes one hand off his bolter to extract the Auspex scanner clasped to his belt. He holds the device up and studies the screen for several seconds.

"Motion detected," he reports. "Ten hostiles, one hundred and fifty metres ahead. Baseline, by the sizes of the pulse."

"One must be Severus," Chairon says.

"Hopefully," Gadriel replies.

"But not certainly," Titus says. The lieutenant says nothing more, but Gadriel hears his unspoken order nonetheless: maintain your guard.

Despite their size and weight, the Astartes move like panthers on the prowl. As it is still light outside, they stick to the shadows where they can. Reaching one of the warehouse's walls, the fireteam lines up, Gadriel in front with time with Titus and Chairon covering him.

"We will breach the wall here," Titus says. "Overwhelm them with speed and surprise."

Chairon and Gadriel both acknowledge the order with a curt "yes sir". Internally, however, Gadriel is somewhat amused by Titus' choice in tactics. *One would be forgiven for thinking we were White Scars. All we're missing are the jet bikes.*

Chairon moves in between his brothers. He holster his bolter to his hip before reaching for his belt and extracting a fist-sized breaching charge. He plants the explosive on the wall, primes it with a button press, then motions for Titus and Gadriel to stand clear. Gadriel crouches down on one knee. His secondary heart joins his primary in beating, flooding his body with adrenaline. He looks between his brothers. Both give him nods of acknowledgement. Chairon touches his forearm, ready to activate the charge. As his fingertip brushes the button, however, Gadriel's Auspex let's out a chime.

"Hold," Gadriel says before pulling up the scanner. He furrow his eyebrows in confusion.

"What is it?" Titus asks.

"The Auspex has changed. All but one of the pulses have vanished."

"Vanished?" Chairon asks.

"That's what I said."

"But how?"

"I do not know."

"It matters not," Titus growls. "Chairon, blow the charge n-"

Before he can finish giving the order, the wall explodes on its own.

The shockwave slams into Gadriel with the force of a meteorite. It throws him backward, knocking him off his feet, sending him rolling over his side before landing on flat on his front. All three of his lungs are emptied of air and his ears ring as if glass were being shattered inside his skull. Gadriel ignores it all. Recovering his footing with staggering ease before raising his bolter in the direction of the enemy.

Only he can see nothing. Just the charred concrete debris at his feet and a wall of thick black smoke. Even through his helmet's filters, the smell of it is choking. Like the polluted air of an Underhive amplified and condensed. Gadriel clenches his jaw.

A gas grenade. Only it exploded with the force of a breaching charge.

It has to be Severus. He must have known they were coming, that they were there. Gadriel curses to himself.

We were too loud. Too forward. Not cautious enough...

"Brothers! Status!" Titus' voice crackles over the vox. Gadriel whips around to try and find the lieutenant, but the damned smoke is too opaque. "Alive and unharmed," Gadriel hisses. "But can't see a damn thing."

"Acknowledged." By contrast, Titus' voice is calm and level. "Chairon? What's your status?"

No reply. A fury like fire ignites in Gadriel's chest. "Brother!" he shouts. "Are you there? Tell us where you are!"

A flash of light catches his peripheral vision. Gadriel spins to face it, snapping his bolter sights up as he does. It's small, but sustained, growing in luminosity with every second. But that isn't what makes Gadriel's breath hitch. It's the colour. A shocking, neon green. Too vivid to be natural, too bright to be electronic.

Gadriel's eyes widen. His thoughts scream a single, terrible name.

Necrons.

With an plasmic screech, the particle beam blazes towards him. It aims for his chest, right over his primary heart. Gadriel manages to twist out of the way in time, but not before the beams edge grazes the top of the aquillia on his breastplate. Gadriel aims his bolter in the direction the green light, only for it to vanish as he opens fire.

"Contact!" he shouts down the vox to Titus. "Necron weaponry confirmed!"

The light reappears on his left. Much closer than before. Gadriel fires upon it and he hears his bolter round sing as they slam into alien metal. He dive-rolls to the side, anticipating another particle beam. But no such shot comes. Instead, the light swells. Growing from a dot to a long, curved streak.

"Throne!" Gadriel hisses. Throwing his bolter into the holster on his thigh, he draws his power sword. Just in time to parry the crackling, green energy blade that comes careening towards his head. Both weapons spark and hiss when they make contact. Faster than a blinking eye, Gadriel surges forwards to slash at the arm holding the necron blade. But his opponent is quicker. Smoke swirling about them, they duck his attack before launching a kick at his knee. Pain spikes through Gadriel's leg and he feels his balance slip. It surprises him. There aren't many things that can kick out an armoured Astartes' knee.

A necron warrior, though, is definately one of them.

The energy blade comes for his head again. Gadriel throws his chin up to avoid it, but in the process looses what little balance he has left. He lands on his back hard, grunting as the last of the air in his lungs is forced out by the impact. In the same instant, his opponent is on top of him. Erupting from the smoke like a daemon from the Warp pinning him down by crouching on his breastplate.

Now close enough to see them through the smoke, Gadriel lays eyes on his attacker for the first time. What he sees, he can only describe as abominable. At first glance, they are human- female, from her shape and build- clad in tattered, studded leather characteristic of those from an Underhive. Her hair is a stunning shade of scarlet and she has it up in a pony tail so long it flows behind her like a cape of ribbons. But that is where all semblance of her humanity ends. Instead of a left arm, she has a robotic appendage, the clawed, green-veined forelimb of a necron warrior, with a green plasma blade bursting from its knuckles. The same is true of her right leg, the foot of which is pressed savagely into Gadriel's chest, strong enough to keep the Astartes pinned. A necron rifle- the source of the particle beams, surely- hangs from a strap looped across her back.

Hatred contorts Gadriel's face into a snarl. Abandoning his power sword he reaches for his bolter, which is still holstered to his thigh. Wrenching the weapon free, he throws it up just as the cyborg-abomination above him raises her energy blade. Her face, too, is twisted into a snarl.

Time suddenly slows. Gadriel's finger stops shy of the trigger.

Her face...

Hatred turns to confusion turn to shock. His thoughts are a racing, jumbled mess. His mouth opens without him realising and he hears his own voice. It speaks a name he hasn't heard in over fifty years.

"... Ellie?"

The cyborg freezes. The snarl on her lips dies.

"G- Gadriel?"

Both of Gadriel's hearts stop. His mind is simultaneously paralysed and raging like a warpstorm. His bolter falls from his hand, clattering off his breastplate to land beside him. Gadriel doesn't even notice.

"Sergeant!" a voice bellows over the vox.

Sparks suddenly burst from the woman's back. As quickly as it had vanished her snarl returns. Leaping off Gadriel, she whips around. Her energy blade retracts into her arm and she reaches for her rifle. Gadriel turns his head to see Titus charging for them with his bolter raised.

The woman hesitates. Glances at Gadriel. Behind his visor, Gadriel meets her gaze. His eyes become wide and watery.

It can't be.

More of Titus' rounds slam into her, this time pinging off her necronian arm. She staggers backward, dropping her rifle so it's swinging limp against her hip. Another moment of hesitation. Gadriel opens his mouth to call her name again. But before the word can leave his lips, she's moving again. Turning her back and vanishing into the smoke screen. When it finally fades, there is no sign of her. Not even a drop of blood.

Gadriel swallow thickly. A lump has formed in his throat, large enough to make it difficult for him to breathe.

"Brother!" Titus clasps his arm, hauling Gadriel up into a sitting position. "Are you alright? Are you wounded?"

Gadriel says nothing. He doesn't remember how to speak. Nor can he even see his brother kneeling beside him. The only thing his mind can see is her. The day her father died. The day on the rooftop. The night they had spent together in her bed.

"Promise me you'll come back."

"I promise."

"I love you."

"I-"

"Brother?" The concern in Titus' voice is palpable now. "Gadriel. Can you hear me?"

Gadriel finally looks at the lieutenant. He nods, but still refuses to speak. He doesn't trust himself to. He's afraid that if he did, he might start to weep.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

That's it! I hope you liked it! The first part of any story is always kinda slow, since you gotta set everything up, but I tried my best to keep things moving fast-like.

Thank you again for reading xoxoxoxo

Part 2 will be up in a few days probably. Hopefully I'll see you all then :)

Update: pssst, you can read part 2 here!

Tag list: @yurihasurunbara @beckyninja @nereidof40k @hatsubara-8chan @moodymisty @solspina @jaghatai-khock @lemon-russ @wolf-feathers12 @egrets-not-regrets

[wowowokay]

Sorry this is a day or two late but here are some more fic recs!! Also these are Batman fic recs but Tim Drake centric (I’m obsessed with Tim so don’t be surprised if I semi frequently post Tim drake centered fics lolol)

(Also there will be a note at the bottom)

Everybody Knows - White_bread_with_a_wig

Hilarious fic basically Tim never became Robin and instead took over drake industries at a young age and he accidentally reveals JL secrets he didn’t realize were secrets during an interview and now he has a bunch of hero’s and rogues him!

Words: 7,728 Chapters: 1/1

I’d kill myself if you ever leave - Violettavonviolet

Basically Tim realizes the mistreatment he received as Robin while he watches how Bruce treats Damian 4+1 fic really good I don’t know how to explain more about it without spoiling sorry 🥲

Words: 3,492 Chapters: 1/1

Red Robin: Undead - bridgesburn

Amazing fic but I’ll be totally honest it’s been a minute since I’ve read it but I totally remember most of it!! I just don’t want to accidentally spoil anything so here’s the authors summary!! And I left some of my own description? Thoughts? At the end!

Death is usually the end. Finality. That's kind of the definition of it.

And falling several stories toward concrete usually meant death. Timothy Drake had certainly assumed as much in the final seconds before he hit the sidewalk at terminal velocity.

But Tim should have realized that, given the complexity of his life, his death would never be that cut and dry.

Enter: a severed head, ten missing months, and an immortal cult leader.

A little less simple. And for some reason, Jason Todd seems to have some answers to his missing months and the violent urge that curdles beneath his skin.

(Yet again amazing fic!! It has some hilarious comedic points and it’s just amazingly well written and the plot doesn’t disappoint it’s just mwah! Amazing!!)

Words: 167,318 Chapters: 25/25

Note: okay that’s all the fics for today!! Also thank you to the people who started following me and left likes and reblogged!! Seriously it’s insane!! But I also wanted to just talk about maybe a posting schedule? I think I’ll be trying to post every other day? I definitely wanna keep some kind of schedule cause I love reading fics (obviously) and I’d love to be able to recommend some of my favorites to you guys!! But warning the amount of fics I’m recommending might fluctuate it depends on how busy I am since I work and I’ll be going back to school soon unfortunately 😭 but yeah! Also I will most likely be recommending Batman and Marvel fics but also occasionally my hero academia, Percy Jackson/Heros of Olympus and Voltron! (I’m not finished with reading Heros of Olympus but when I am there will probably be a flood of those fic recs lolol) also sorry if my grammar is horrendous English may be my first and only language but I still suck at it lolol but yeah! I hope you guys enjoy!!! :))

[jacky-rubou]

Stan's Sorrow

Stan still found it difficult to comprehend. Ford sacrificed himself to save him? The one who broke his project, the one who pushed him into the portal, the one who stole his entire identity? Ford still loved him enough to die for him... even after all he's done?

Link to Fic

hey guys, look what I've been working on for the past month or so? this four... kinda five?.. page comic for an older fic of mine that I still hold fondness towards! it's not perfectly exact to what happened in the fic but I think it's better that way. also because it would've killed me to be that particular about details.

anyway, I hope you guys enjoy it like I enjoyed drawing it! this was something I've always kinda wanted to do since I wrote the fic, especially the moments leading up to and right after Ford's sacrifice, but didn't have the confidence or the skill to really draw it like this until now. this was quite an endeavor so I hope my efforts bear fruit haha.

before anyone asks, no, I'm not drawing the fic any further than this. that would kill me. I'm satisfied with what I did for it and if anyone wants to know what happens next the fic is right there haha.

reblogs > likes

[gyaruhana]

Hai since you aren't taking actual fic requests right now and only headcanons I wanted to ask if you also do those rankings? If you haven't seen basically people ask a question like 'who would be the biggest gentleman in a relationship' and the person who asks either gives a few characters for the writer to rank and write a few sentences or let the writer choose which characters they think fit best

But yeah I've basically have been seeing this a lot recently and had to think of you and your blog because I think I'd be something nice and short to write when you don't wanna do hc's/fic's and could help with potential writers block !

And if you plan on doing that then here would be your first ranking request !! :3

So out of Thanos, gwi-nam and niragi who would be the most freaky and rough in bed?

(btw I know this is long and I hope this wasn't a bother to you, I just ramble a lot about things I'm interested in and I just love your blog and everything you've written so far and I hope you continue <33)

im in love with this ranking system thingy uhm oh em gee ?!?!?!?!

i will absolutely be ranking now it's such a cute concept😭😭

below is my personal ranking.. (also thank you for liking my writing it always makes me so nervous when people compliment me..)

No.3: Choi Su-Bong/Thanos (Squid Game)

Thanos is rough, yes. He likes choking you, he likes making you cry - not to mention he really enjoys edging you for as long as possible to watch your face contort in slight pain as you beg him to let you cum.

However, I'd argue he's not entirely the type to force you into anything if it makes you super uncomfortable. The only exception for this is when he's high and not really mentally present but most of the time he doesn't push you too far over the limit.

Of course, don't mistake this for me saying he's not rough! He totally is. But, compared to the others I'm ranking, he's def less extreme..

────────────────────────────────────────────

No.2: Yoon Gwi-Nam (All Of Us Are Dead)

This is pretty self-explanatory.. we've seen plenty of scenes with him and he does NOT play.

Again, he also likes seeing you cry and choking you and blah blah blah but he's more freaky than Thanos which is why he's number two on my ranking.

He's ONLY degrading. There's nothing nice about this man. Maybe he would've pretended to be a little nice but he drops all that when he's fucking you honestly.

However, he's still only no.2 because while, yes, he isn't above being violent toward you and man handling you - he's not quite as bad as who i put as no.1

────────────────────────────────────────────

No.1: Suguru Niragi (Alice In Borderland)

No.1 for a reason.

He's the roughest and the freakiest best believe it !! He really doesn't bother playing nice whatsoever. If he sees you and he likes you, he'll just claim you without a care in the world.

Just really kinky in my opinion!!

prolly into gun play, knife play - anything incredibly violent sorry not sorry. I mean.. we all know the typa guy he is so..

i'd argue he views you ENTIRELY as a doll for his pleasure. Not anything more honestly.

────────────────────────────────────────────

CONCLUSION: First time ranking and I may have made it a little fancy set up bc i got excited at this concept..

But, yes - Niragi is No.1 on this list. I feel like he's just a real kinky and rough asshole. Although, I do totally see Gwinam being similar to Niragi in the future when he reaches PEAK dickhead-ness.

My king Thanos is only No.3 bc he's not totally mean at heart i feel.. he's just really rough when he's high but I don't think he'd be the same level of rough as Gwinam and Niragi.

anyway, hope my ranking was good !!

────────────────────────────────────────────

(thank you sm for this idea i need more holy moly..)

[myokk]

note-taking

pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

word count: 3,6k

summary: mc loves flustering sebastian with her notes during class😇

cw: NONE this is just fluff, mutual pining, idiots in love, it takes a while for them to admit their feelings, I rated it M for some language/sexual themes

a/n: I laughed a lot as I wrote this on the train, I hope you enjoy reading about these two idiots (endearing) as much as I did writing them

A beetle slowly makes its way across Sebastian Sallow's desk.

The classroom is silent - save for the scratching of quills furiously calculating the Arithmatic probability of who will be the next Minister and the quiet murmur of his professor as she helps Hobhouse (how did he even get into the N.E.W.T. level?) - and Sebastian is going absolutely mad.

He counts how many seconds it takes for the beetle to reach his abandoned quill (fifteen). But, when it takes its seventh step after making it over the quill (an auspicious sign), Sebastian slams his hand down on top of it.

The loud noise echoes through the silent classroom and Sebastian hears her snickering coming from behind him as the whole class turns to see what has happened. His ears turn red, he wishes he could jinx her somehow, and yet he is terribly curious to see what she has sent him this time. Sebastian hopes that everyone has gone back to their equations and stops staring at him, because now that it's in his hands, his fingers are itching to open it. His hands eagerly - shamefully eager, if you ask him - unravel the note he's crumpled up in his hands - almost a shame that he destroyed the beetle, it was one of her better creations - and Sebastian soon curses his haste.

His ears would be an even deeper shade of red were his blood not currently draining to a different part of his body. Sebastian shifts uncomfortably in his seat as he continues reading the note, his eyes flying across the tiny note once, twice, three times before he crumples it up and adds it to the graveyard of the other notes she has been sending him all day. The words fuck my soaking cunt flash up at him and he adjusts his schoolbag so that if anyone were to walk past and look into it, they wouldn't suspect a thing.

You see, this has been going on all week. Sebastian knew that when his seventh year started, it was going to be the culmination of their academic rivalry, but he never expected this. That witch has made taunting him her personal vendetta, and it's working.

Sebastian can't get her out of his mind.

It started in Herbology on Monday, at exactly 7.37 in the morning. Sebastian had been sitting next to Ominis, both complaining under their breaths at how early Professor Garlick had made them wake up (something about the plants blooming - Sebastian can't remember now). He had seen a little snake slither past Ominis's hands, making its way directly to him, and he does remember that he thought it was quite strange that Ominis didn't seem to react to the snake's presence. And then - he took a closer look at it - he saw that it was made of paper. Curious, Sebastian had thought as he grabbed and unfolded it. Reading it started an unfortunate chain of events.

It started out innocently enough, he supposes. Well, if you can call the most indecent thing he's ever read innocent, then it started out innocently.

Sallow - let me just say how absolutely delicious you look in your jacket this morning. I find I want to rip it off of your broad shoulders. Did you hit a growth spurt this summer?

He had flushed, briefly glanced over his shoulder - maybe he could see a face as flushed as his was, watching his reaction, but nothing - before looking back to the note, squinting at the familiar (familiar?) handwriting when Ominis had interrupted him.

"Sebastian? I think we need to start trimming the budding flowers now..."

His voice had blended in with the buzzing in Sebastian's ears as he stared intently down at the note in his hands. He had soon figured out who sent it - how could he not recognize her handwriting? - and the rest of Herbology class had been an absolute disaster. He had spent the whole rest of his time haphazardly massacring his plants and ignoring Ominis's pleas for help as he ruminated on her and what did she mean by her note? Her maddening laughter floated over the sound of tiny, precise snips as Sebastian's classmates did as they were supposed to, boring into his mind as he tried his hardest to figure out what she was up to.

Her plan's working, whatever it is. Sebastian has been frustrated to no end. She's nobody to him, just Anne's annoying best friend. Well, that's not entirely true, and Sebastian doesn't like to lie to himself. She was his closest friend last year, and the year before...ever since she arrived at Hogwarts, really. They did everything together, but something had changed when she visited that summer.

She had spent less time laughing with him, instead choosing to whisper with Anne about Merlin knows what, sometimes looking at him with an expression he couldn't place that had started to drive him crazy.

Sebastian had decided that a certain someone made no sense, that he would ignore the strange way his stomach would flip in her presence, and that he would focus all of his energy into besting her at everything. Maybe if she was embarrassed about being inferior to him, she would stop all of this. Although he would never admit it, he had started having nightmares about her gasping beneath him and needing him, that strange look from the summer flashing in dream-her's eyes, blissful fantasies that have him waking up hard and needing to cast a silencing charm around his bed before he can start his days.

Needless to say, these dreams have become infinitely worse this week.

What started out as a joke has quickly spiraled into an obsession. She soon finds herself watching Sebastian with breathless anticipation every time she sends a note over to him, relishing in the deep flush of his cheeks as he sneaks glances over his shoulder at her.

She doesn't really know what possessed her to start in the first place. A stroke of daring, she supposes as she finishes her latest note with a flourish and charms it to fold itself into a tiny swallow. And, she muses, watching the bird fly towards its victim, it's rather fun to fluster him so.

It's what he deserves, after all, after she has spent a whole year pining after him. A whole bloody year of sighing as he leaned over her shoulder in the library to point at something in her textbook, of his chin resting on top of her head, of warm breath tickling her ears, of watching him defeat every opponent in Crossed Wands, of watching him laugh despite himself at her little quips in Transfiguration. Of making sure -

She stifles a smile as she watches Sebastian eagerly grab the swallow as it flitters towards him. At first, he had tried acting nonchalant, like a cat biding its time before it pounces. Ignoring the notes she's been sending until he can't stand it and then: squashing them, smashing them, trapping them in his large hands, long fingers eager to unfold the note and see what she has to say.

Now, he has abandoned any pretense of aloofness he might have had before.

She can see it in the rigid set of his shoulders. The tension releases somewhat every time he opens a note, but quickly returns as he crumples them up and adds them to his collection. She hopes he's getting as wound up as she is, hopes that he's beginning to know an ounce of the suffering he has been putting her through.

A small voice in the back of her head tells her that she's being unfair, that maybe he's just oblivious - but then, why would he have looked at her like that all summer? And - almost the most maddening thing of all - ever since their seventh year started, he has made it a point to try and best her in every class. She couldn't move on from her silly little crush even if she wanted to, when his deep voice cuts through hers every single class to answer first, when he's always right ahead of her in Potions to get the best ingredients, when he's the one standing across from her in the mock duels in Hecat's class and as he raises his wand and her breath catches in her throat and -... Well, it's only fair, then, that she tries to distract him during class.

She's wondering what the next note should say, is lightly rubbing the edges of the quill's feather against her lips - did she go too far with the latest note? - when the scraping of a chair next to her pulls her out of her thoughts. She jumps at the jarring noise, the quill clatters on the table as it falls, and she feels her own face flush when she sees Sebastian sprawling himself out in the seat right next to hers.

There's a look on his face that she's never seen before and she feels as if all of the air has left her body when he leans in close to her - she could start counting his freckles if her brain hadn't gone completely empty - warm breath tickling her ear as he breathes, "What do you think you're doing?"

She hasn't thought this far ahead.

Why hadn't it occurred to her that Sebastian might confront her about the notes?

"I..." she falters, trying to get her thoughts working again, so that she can find something to say to get her out of this situation. Because she didn't actually want him to notice her, did she? And, what could she possibly say in defense of the filthy things she's been sending him all week? She can't seem to break eye contact with him: she swallows nervously: she tries again: "I -"

Her words fail her once again, when Sebastian's warm hand comes to rest on top of her thigh. Her thick wool skirt might be acting as a barrier between them, but it somehow feels like he's touching her bare skin and her whole body heats up uncontrollably. Even like this, his touch is better - more electric - than what she's been imagining this whole time.

He turns away and pulls parchment out with the hand that isn't actively caressing her thigh, and reaches across her for the quill that has fallen from her fingers. She hears scratching as he starts working on his equations - she vaguely thinks that she should be working on them too, isn't she supposed to be trying to do better than him? But -... her breathing is shallow - all of her nerve endings have seemingly migrated to the spot on her inner thigh that Sebastian's thumb is now massaging in tiny circles - maybe her brain has just packed its bags and left on holiday to Bath for all the use it's giving her now.

He doesn't even spare her a glance during the rest of the class, continues to diligently work on his equations for the first time all week, but his large hand remains on her thigh, completely obliterating any thought from her mind that doesn't have something to do with the warmth that keeps pooling deep in her stomach at his touch.

When the class is blissfully (unfortunately) over, Sebastian finally pulls his hand away and she squeaks in protest against her wishes - her thigh is now cold - that must be it (just discomfort, that's all) - she doesn't feel the relief she thought she would at his absence. He smirks down at the parchment he's rolling up, packs everything into his school bag, and leaves her behind without his eyes darting to hers even once.

Seven notes.

She has sent Sebastian seven bloody notes over the course of the last three days, and as he looks over at the crumpled up papers sitting on the desk in his dorm room, notes he tried his best to smooth out, he feels his heart race increase. He doesn't understand why she's doing this, but he does understand how it's making him feel. He could barely even think during Arithmancy, knowing how much his presence was affecting her, feeling her warm thigh under his hand. And when she protested when he removed his hand, well. He had to get out of there as fast as possible.

Maybe it's a good thing she didn't have the presence of mind to look at his arithmatic equations during class, because they are, unfortunately, incomprehensible. He had to keep up the charade by pretending to scribble for the rest of class, but now he almost regrets it - almost - because his pride won't allow him to ask Amit for his notes.

Sebastian has spent the evening poring over his textbook, trying to make sense of something that should be coming easily to him - Anne doesn't tease him about his strange obsession with numbers for no reason - and yet, his eyes keep wandering over to her notes. (Why did he even take them out of his bag in the first place?) (Why hasn't he burned those blasted things yet?) He has decided to forego studying in the library, the common room, and the Undercroft (places where he might see the object of his inner turmoil), and yet he is still getting nothing done even in the peaceful silence of his dormitory. Because her letters are shouting at him.

Well, not really, as they aren't Howlers. They might as well be, though, with how much he has reread them since he took them out of his bag. A smile spreads across his face despite himself as he puts his plaid jacket - the one he wore on Monday - on his chair to wear tomorrow. That stupid smile doesn't leave his face as he brushes his teeth next to Ominis before bed (thanking Merlin that Ominis is blind and can't pester him about what he cannot see), nor does it leave as he tries to fall asleep that night.

Suffice it to say, Sebastian does not get much sleep that night.

"...caught her snogging Prewett in the boathouse."

"Oh Merlin." A giggle. "I wonder if he's any good. Don't look at me like that, I know you've wondered the same thing..."

She blushes as she tucks her head down, trying to concentrate on the reading before her but it's difficult. First, because Sacharissa is being entirely too loud as she gossips with Grace - they might be some of the first at breakfast, but that doesn't mean they're alone - and second, because she is reading the book she filched from Sacharissa's bag. It's been charmed to look like a History of Magic textbook (nobody would ever be interested enough in one of those to filch it back) and she hopes that it's enough to make sure that no one distracts her in her research.

She has never had experience of the amorous sort before, and she has run out of things to put in the letters she's been sending to Sebastian - they were all just things she had been thinking, or things that she's overheard the boys saying when they thought they were alone. But what she's been reading in Sacharissa's novel - if it can even be called that - are enough to make her so hot and bothered that she's not sure if she should retreat back to her dorm room to read it in peace. As her eyes fly over the words, she pictures Sebastian doing those things to her, with her, and it's enough to make it so she's not even sure she can look him in the eye ever again. The feeling of his hand on her thigh the day before has imprinted itself on her body and in her brain and she barely got any sleep because of it.

"What are you reading?" asks Anne as she plops herself down on the bench, trying to look over her shoulder. She flinches and slams her book shut as fast as possible, feeling her traitorous face heat up. She knows she's making it all more suspicious, but Anne cannot find out. Anne shrugs and starts buttering her toast, stifling a yawn. "I never knew that the Vampire Treatises of the 15th century were so interesting. By the way, have you seen my brother at all? I couldn't find him last night and - Oi, Sebastian!"

Anne stands halfway up and starts waving him over, and she wishes she could vanish. Maybe, instead of researching fresh ways to torture him, she should have been learning how to most effectively vanish oneself from the face of the Earth. She's sure the heat she feels burning her cheeks as she sees him walk over to them is translating to her face being a bright, red, ugly beacon calling to him.

As he walks over to their table, looking entirely too irresistible in that plaid jacket of his, Merlin, his growth spurt really -

"Ladies," he says, nodding at them as he takes a seat across the table, "how did you sleep?"

She knows he's giving her a pointed look as he asks, but she has started to choke on the pumpkin juice she started drinking as he walked over - she is, unfortunately, picturing them doing some of the filthy things she's just read together - and could she really make more of a fool of herself than she already has at this point? But then - he grabs her book. Her heart lurches but she can't do anything due to the fact she's still spluttering over her pumpkin juice, and she watches in horrified fascination as he starts flicking through the pages. His eyebrows raise steadily higher and higher as he reads, his own face turning a shade of red she's certain matches her own. She curses herself again - vampires are so interesting, of course he would want to read about them - she should have made the cover a topic she knows Sebastian hates, like a compendium of spells to boost fingernail growth or a Duncan Hobhouse biography - but it's too late now.

Sebastian clears his throat and glances at her, and she sees uncertainty, vulnerability in his eyes as they make brief contact with hers. Finally her brain starts working - quite possibly for the first time since she started this stupid game in Herbology on Monday - and she hastily stands up, snatching the book from Sebastian's hands - he puts up no resistance - and clutches it to her chest as she blurts out in one breath: "I-slept-terribly-last-night-and-it's-all-thanks-to-you."

And now, she's fleeing the Great Hall, wondering what's gotten into her.

She next sees Sebastian during their Ancient Runes class. Well, she doesn't actually see him: she's made it a point to be the first to enter the class, and keeps her head down as she stares at her parchment the second everything is set up perfectly. Inkwell - parchment - her stupid replacement quill - textbook - everything is in place. After the disastrous event otherwise known as breakfast, she's decided that she's over her silly little crush, and she will never think about Sebastian Sallow again. She will never think about things she might say that will make him laugh again, she will never think of book recommendations again, she will certainly never think of his strong hands caressing her thigh again, and she will never, ever -

A tiny paper fox climbs into her hand.

I didn't get any sleep last night either, because of you. P.S. I still have your quill.

She flushes and looks over her shoulder. Sebastian flashes her a crooked smile that makes her stomach lurch in an unfamiliar way, before he ducks his head down and continues to scribble his translations with her quill. Her quill. A new flash of hatred surges through her - that's what these intense feelings must be - and she decides she needs to get it back.

Instead of translations, she hatefully scribbles down everything that she wants to do to Sebastian Sallow - she wants punch his stupid face, wait: she wants to kiss his stupid freckled face and hold his silly beautiful hands and she wants to feel the deep rumble of his laugh after her jokes as she rests her head on his shoulder and she wants to read next to him and have things be back to how they always were, and yet she wants more than that, more than just being friends, it's what she's wanted all along, isn't it? - and she marches after him when the class has finished.

Sebastian doesn't spare her a glance even though he has to know she's behind him with how much noise her frustrated huffing makes as they weave through the throngs of students in the hallways. It's lunchtime, and yet instead of heading to the Great Hall, he's leading her somewhere else.

He finally stops when they reach the top of the Astronomy Tower, and she opens her mouth to protest. She knows she's terribly flushed, her chest heaving as she glares up at him: "You are despicable! I need my quill -"

She's cut off from speaking as before she knows it, his hands are caressing her face and he is kissing her. Oh, Merlin, it's better than she could have hoped it to be, and her own traitorous body and mind have forgotten the alliance formed against him in the face of Sebastian Sallow's persistence and she's wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down closer, making sure he can't get away from her again.

Maybe later she can show him all of her notes on how much she hates him and they can have a laugh. Maybe later they can revisit some passages from the book she filched.

But right now, she doesn't let go of Sebastian.

[zecoritheweirdone]

hey do you guys wanna see a comic for a msa au me and my friend ascel came up with? trick question yes you do. anyway- hehehehehhhoo body swap au <3.

okay quick context for this rq- this is an au where it diverges after freaking out- instead of possessing the truck, lewis ends up chasing the gang for a while, maybe a week or two? arthur and vivi don't know why this random ghost they met ages ago keeps going after them, but one things for sure- he really, really wants arthur's head on a spike.

cut to the present- arthur got separated from vivi and mystery, and lewis ends up chasing him into the woods!

[ashipiko]

DANCE WITH ME YOU LI-IA-IAR ♡

OVERBLOT ASHI??? ANYBODY??? the ANGST that this baby can store!!! SHEESH!!!!!!! <3 I only have one post dedicated to her and liar dance lyric analysis (the post is kinda outdated in gen) BUT…… I also have an overblot monologue as a treat 🫶 I wanted to better explain her angst and so!!! BABAM!!! enjoy

ASHI’S MONOLOGUE:

Sometimes I wonder why I ended up here.

A place named “Twisted Wonderland”, and at a school named “Night Raven College”.

At first, I figured that I was the odd one out— Y’know, the Ramshackle prefect and everything. The magicless girl at the magical all boys school? Nuts, ain’t it?

I’m known for a lot of things. Things that are different from the others. The fact that I stand out is part of the Ashi charm, something I’m known for.

But… Over time I found myself sorta feeling in place here.

Because as much as I try to believe it, I can’t safely say that I’m better than anyone else here.

I’m a fake. I make conversation and lots of friends, but for what? A backup in case something goes wrong? A sense of protection for my reputation? In what case are any of those friendships something I truly want? In what case are any of these strings more than just a tool instead of a thread made of my real feelings?

Behind this, I’m no different from any other student here. Even through my individuality, my cheerfulness, my endearing oddness… I’m still a horrible person. Using people to get what I want, toying with people and their feelings in order to gain power and gain a spot the top. All to become untouchable. It’s screwed. It’s not right.

My insides are ugly. The truth of me is something I want to keep tucked away deeply, because I don’t want people to see this part of me. A brash, annoying, selfish version of me, everything people hate to see. I don’t want this side of me to be seen because people will run away— people I don’t care much about, sures, but people I love, too. I don’t want to drive them away. So I keep quiet and give them a shallow show.

I give them a source of entertainment that’s controlled by the real me, every calculated movement translating into a marionette-like response. The only show I allow you to see is one that’s so carefully crafted by the chaotic clown backstage. The one that is shunned away from the light, the strings being the only hint of the puppet’s phony existence to the foolish audience.

But suddenly, I feel as if being here has started to let this side of me come crawling back into the spotlight.

It scares me.

It scares me to be vulnerable, let all of my faults lay out on the table like playing cards. To take the risk without the protection, to gamble everything I’ve built up away just like that. But you…

You.

You make me feel safe. You make me feel as if I don’t need to hide anything. I can give you the key to my heart and you would have no malicious intent. You wouldn’t cut out the parts people don’t like. You would enjoy the performance in full, every bit of it.

You make me believe that I’m nothing special, and yet something so valuable at the same time.

It’s silly. You’re silly. And yet that’s something that’s helped me.

It’s helped me realize that that truly is just how people are.

We aren’t villains. We aren’t antagonists. We aren’t monsters.

We are nothing but people, with faults and feelings that should be valued.

I am more than just a jester, a sake of entertainment.

I’m a person who is entirely worthy of love. All of me.

It reminds me that I must’ve came here for a reason.

Because this is where I belong.

[might-be-tiny-gt]

Listen to the Audio Next Chapter

Read The Story Index | First Chapter

Welcome to Chapter 1 of the TAoLaW "dramatic" reading. What can I say, the theatre kid in me needed to record this in audio format. Have I mentioned how much I love this fic? Yes? Well I'm saying it again, I LOVE THE ART OF LOVE AND WAR!!! If you haven't read it please go read it.

The Art of Love and War Is written by @fireflywritesgt and the audio reading is recorded and posted with permision.

[wysteriaisapenguin]

Smitten often dreams of the ocean. The ocean reminds him of Her.

Was inspired to draw some art for this fic "Nascita di Venere" by @pink-november cause it gave me so many feelings (Please check it out, it is very lovely! 🩷)

Just the thought of Smitten struggling with his grief and having his ideal fantasy of true love be shattered, but also continuing to indulge in it as a coping mechanism gets me so. The way he wades into the ocean is a great representation of that. (Also Skeptic coming in to save him despite his fear of the water is great too! I love how supportive he is towards his counterpart.)

Monochrome variant of the 1st drawing down below!

I thought it'd be fitting to have the 1st drawing full of color since it is in Smitten's POV. But the moment he's saved by Skeptic, reality sinks in and everything goes back to being grey.

Funny how I made my Smitten a swan, which is a waterfowl, so he probably should have some tolerance to the water. Maybe.

[nekrosmos]

*burst into your room through your window* hi- *coughs glass shards out* I am here to say MANY things, positive things about your fic you wrote, but honestly it's more like my live reaction and my fav parts of the fic, it's gonna be long!!!! I HOPE YOU DON'T MIND READING ME YAP!!!

First of all, ∞/10, this is your first fic??? IT'S SO GOOD!! you got the atmosphere the vulnerability the softness the banter AND the good ol smut down, I love it, it was like I was joining them in the fishing trip because of how nice the visual was

ok from here on out it's all about my fav parts of the fic HEHE

the two had aged together is!!!!!!so!!!!!!!!freaking!!!!!!sWEET!!!!!they've been through it all together for the longest time!!!!!!

something about this just makes me change the way Im looking at Price, like..."he just love her" is such a deceivingly simple line but it holds so much weight. He may have "love" him but it was never a full attachment, rather just...embracing the love he was offered. He loved her because he could, not because of...everything el1se that matters. At least that's how I see it and GOD it hurts so good

ah hem AKSJDHAKS how did Nik not choke on air for that- anyways

Im getting my pitchfork for that CO (even tho the bastard is not around anymore) and the way Nik also got him?! *wails*

"there had been a lifetime of missed opportunities between the two" IS SUCH A GOOOOODDD LINEEEE GRRGGR YOUR BRAIN!!

🥺something about them giggling and being themselves just GRIPS MY HEART!!!!

it's the fact that the "friend" turned to "love" that got me feral I was SOOOO KASJHDKADJ hAPPY for em

chef au....

Nik the mAN YOU ARE!!! THE REST I COULD LIVE WITH!!!!GRRR!!! SUCH GOOD LINE!!! HIS NIK!!!!!!!!!!!!

I was walking when I read this part and basically fist the air in victory KASJHDKAJH also I love the train of thought here for Price...it's such a him thing to overthink

there is nothing wrong with that - URGH RIP MY HEART OUT AGAIN!!!!!!!!!

again, another great line, frame this and smack it to my forehead because yes, that is Nik

I really really like in between the spicy scenes there are goofy scenes because...my god it just make everything lighter and more...how to say? real. In the moment and all, yk, it's so nice reading them laughing and stuff. But also this line "their romantic relationship wasn't born today, but weeks ago" again, chef kiss

very long ramble and Im surprised im allowed to type this much into an ask (ah heck it could get cut for all I know but) just know this fic was a lifesaver during my lunch break, had an extremely hard day and this helped a bunch.

Im looking forward to see your future fics if you do write them!!

Okay I'm officially smiling like an idiot and I think I'm gonna have to reread your ask many, many times because HOLY SHIT you just made me so unbelievably happy ​😭​😭​❤️​❤️​❤️​

It was my first fic with them !! I've been writing for a long time, switched to english a few years ago and have been writing casually ever since ,,,, But this was the longest fic I've ever posted and it was a nice challenge honestly !!

Also the way you pointed out some of your favorite scenes jdvlskjd,vpùidjvbpvj I'm losing my mind, I'm so happy ​😭​ I literally couldn't ask for better feedback !!!

I actually really like your interpretation of that line about his ex wife !! I left it pretty open so people can hc whatever they want :3c In my personal hc, he really did love her immensely, but he kept hurting her unintentionally by never being around, never giving her what she needed because of his work, etc. ​Just one of those "it wasn't meant to be" relationships. (Also, other random hc, but Nik was here at Price's wedding, he got along really well with his ex wife, but everything about it broke his fucking heart over and over again. Oops 💔)

And I'm so glad you pointed out the banters during the smut scene !! It's my favorite thing to do honestly !! To me, sex scenes don't have to be so serious all the time, I like when characters communicate while it's happening, I like when they're laughing together <3 And these two have so much shared history that it just makes sense to me !!

God, again, thank you so much for this, you really did just make my day Gomz !!!! You're absolutely lovely !!

[thatoneperson747]

Chapter three of A Ranger's Eyes is up on ao3!

I'm not sure how many of my readers see my tumblr account, but for those who do, thank you so much for being so nice to me! I did not expect my first fic to do so well, especially so early. I'm really excited to keep writing it! I hope you guys enjoy what I've got in store for you :D