#if i recall i don’t think he ever said a title??

[queenheritageposts]

chat i have a question because it’s been bugging me for years

[on-leatheredwings]

Remedial Lesson (18+)

Yandere ! Dick Grayson x (AFAB) Reader

> romantic, 18+ > request: non-con for dick grayson? maybe him abusing his power as the titans leader to be a little flirty/touchy with reader before tricking them into letting him inside of their bedroom under false pretenses? > tw/cw: explicit non-con, baby trapping, yandere behaviors, abusive power dynamic > a/n: i just love writing a manipulative dick! And i love writing a manipulative Dick! (ba dum tss) emphasis on non-con in tw's, its not dubcon! > word count: 2545

Stupid, stupid. 

At that thought, the logical, respectable half of your brain admonishes you.

You aren’t stupid. You just were unlucky, you correct softly. You’re plenty capable, and an asset to the team. It could’ve happened to anybody. 

Recently, you’ve been trying to stop your self-deprecation, in an attempt to bolster your self-esteem, solidify your confidence, and quell negative self-talk. 

… Therapist’s orders. 

Being the ever-so-capable superhero you are, today you got blasted by some hypnotizing ray. And then promptly went on a murderous rampage on your teammates. 

You don’t recall anything that happened, only waking up from what felt like a deep sleep to the outstretched hand of Nightwing. Koriand’r told you on the way back to the Tower that you almost killed him – making you stiffen in horror. You almost killed him, and apparently the only thing he had been worried about was you. At the thought, you feel heat swarm in your cheeks.

Despite not having any powers, Nightwing is plenty formidable. You were in complete awe of him today; the way he moves is so effortless, and he’s not even a metahuman. 

You clench your fist with determination. You aren’t a metahuman either, but you pale in comparison to him. You want to be just as formidable as he is. Be just as deserving of the title “Titan.”

On the subject of Nightwing, your mind wanders… He had been quite… hands-on with you today. Shaking you by the shoulders, hand on your cheeks lightly slapping you awake. Encouraging you back to your feet, hand brushing your waist. When the battle was over, you nearly collapsed to your knees, spent. But he caught you, appearing from out of nowhere. 

“Easy,” he had said into your ear, which made you shiver. 

You sigh. 

Okay. So maybe you had a crush. It wasn’t like you were going to do anything about it. He’s your boss – the Titans’ illustrious captain. He was simply helping you along, watching out for a teammate. Mentoring a new hero. After all, you are the Titans’ newest recruit, a post that months later still feels unreal. 

You walk amongst them through the doors of the Tower, conversation and chatter flowing around you. You don’t join in, still ashamed from today’s blunder. How many of them had you tried to hurt? The team has just finished a mission, and it seems a pizza party is in order for tonight. You smile gingerly as Garfield announces vibrantly that you’re invited. (A no-brainer to anyone else since you literally live here, but to you, it means a lot.)

Your secret identity known to the team, you dismiss yourself to change out of your suit and into your civvies. “Hurry back soon,” they say, and the sentiment warms you. You indeed jog to your bedroom, eager to return to the festivities. You’re one of them. You’re really one of them.

You slip into your room, tossing the door back without a second glance. Your fingers pull on the bottom of your shirt. You’re about to peel off your suit, when you hear a shallow thud. That was not the sound your door makes once it's been closed. 

You whip around, and see–

“Nightwing?”

Your leader stands in the doorway, foot acting as an impromptu door stopper. You take him in. His hair cascades in gentle dark waves, curling by the ears. If you didn’t know better, you’d think his suit was painted on. Despite being lightly armored and fortified, it stretches across his body like plastic wrap. You could trace every muscle under his skin– okay, relax. Christ. 

Hey, you think back, mentally wagging a finger. No thought policing.

At the sound of your name being called, you realize you’ve been gawking like an idiot while he stands in your doorframe. You straighten.

“Oh! Y-yes!?”

“Can I come in?” he asks. You nod so fervently that your head is a blur of color.

Nightwing does so, the slightest amicable smile on his lips. Around friends and allies, it seems to be a default expression of his. Still, you’ve spent enough time around him to note that he looks quite… serious. Concerned.

“... Is there anything I can do for you?” you ask, eager to rectify whatever was upsetting him. You so want to impress him. Badly. 

He holds up his hands, as if saying, At ease. “All you can do for me is let me know that you’re alright.”  

You offer a pitiable smile, warmth swirling in your chest. “I am. Thanks for asking– and I’m so, so sorry about today–” 

Nightwing waves you off, approaching you. He places a hand on your shoulder in consolation. “Hey, it could’ve–”

“--Happened to anyone,” you finish, nodding. You look down.

“... Although I admit…” 

Your head snaps to attention. “Yes?”

Nightwing then sighs. His gaze falls to the floor. He tuts and shakes his head as if troubled. You swallow drily. So focused on him, you don’t even notice the circles his thumb kneads into your shoulder.

“Your performance today.” Your throat clenches. Nightwing’s gaze returns to you, hard and critical behind his mask. “Well, frankly, it left much to be desired.”

Your heart plummets, hitting the pit of your stomach. You’re mortified. You haven’t been meeting his standards? Did everyone else think that? Were their hopes misplaced? You feel the thrum of anxiety jitter underneath your skin as you bow your head. Your gaze now captures the two feet keeping you upright.

There’s a stroke to your cheek, to which you flinch. 

“Hey.” Your head whips up. You look up at him, into white lenses that have the ghost of his eyes behind them. “It’s okay. I’m here to help.” 

His face is gentle and consoling. You exhale. He’s just being honest, you think. He’s just being honest. Nothing wrong with some constructive criticism. You let him sit you down on the edge of your bed.

“H-how can I improve?” you ask, voice croaking. “I know I fucked up today. I should’ve seen it coming. I’m so, so sorry if I hurt you or anybody else–”

“Hey,” he says again, soft and delicately. “Listen, it’s alright. I’m going to teach you some things. How to resist better.” 

You nod, slowly, anticipating some verbal advice. 

You watch him with anticipation, giving him your full attention– and then, he kneels before you. You instinctively feel alarm at the increased proximity, before you swat it down. His head is level with your lower abdomen, uncomfortably close to your lap. You don’t have to make it weird, you scoff at yourself.

“... Y-yes?” you say. 

“I’m going to take off your pants.”

You stare. 

Did you hear him right? Was he… joking? 

Clearly not. His hands land on your thighs, effectively drawing a sharp inhale from you. You both lock eyes. His face still holds the same vaguely amicable grin, but it’s now a leer. Your heart quickens. You don’t feel right. 

“... Nightwing?” you ask, feeling suddenly quite small. You don’t know what’s happening. What’s going on?

“You need to be able to withstand a lot more than you currently can,” he continues, talking as casually as if you’re speaking about the weather. You are shell shocked, frozen into submission at the touch of his hands pulling your pants off. His nails scrape along your skin when he has to use more force to jerk it free from under your ass, to which you still don’t react. 

What’s going on? your mind cycles on loop.

It’s when he pulls down your underwear you finally jolt, clumsily kicking at him. Which he catches of course. What a poor move, because your kick only enables him to spread your legs at his leisure. Heat rages to your cheeks. Though not entirely off, your panties do a pitiful job of concealing the tangle of hair nestled between your thighs. The mortification racing through your bloodstream makes you croak. It makes you keep throwing kicks and swats and punches until Nightwing is forced to sandwich your body against your bed. He pins your hands down to the bed, and you know by now it’s a lost cause.

“Help–” you begin, but Nightwing adeptly slips your wrists into one hand, and uses the other to silence you. He smiles bashfully, as if he hadn’t just stripped you without consent or fanfare.

“This is all for you–” At the furrow of your brow, he says, indignantly, “I’m serious! How easy was it for that guy to hypnotize you today?” The question throws a knife into your heart. “Or when last week you were apprehended? Or the week before that?” Each instance makes the burning building in your eyes more and more unbearable. He isn't wrong. Your tears build. He’s not wrong.

Nightwing slowly removes his hand off your mouth, anticipating another yell. You squirm, but don’t make a sound aside from shuddering breaths. 

His grin loses all its flirty qualities. It widens, self-satisfied and predatory. With his teeth he peels off his free hand’s glove, slides it down your torso to the apex between your thighs.

“No,” you whimper, to which he hushes you, lips by the shell of your ear for the second time today. His fingers explore without warning, tracing your labia and brushing against your clit. You gasp, but you don’t scream.

Nightwing tuts, shaking his head. “You’re already wet, I see.”

You tremble, filled with humiliation. “No, I’m not.” One digit delves deeper, experimentally. You grit your teeth.

“You want this,” he says, and you fill with dread at the condescension of his tone. Like this was expected. Like you had so much to learn.

“No, I don’t.”

“But you do. You’re telling me you do.” His fingers – the pair that when gloved, there would’ve been two cobalt blue stripes – scissor inside you, and your breath hitches. “Your body’s telling me you do.”

“I-it’s a biological response.” At the feeling of his fingers swimming inside you, you whimper. This is insane. It can’t be happening. Yet you jerk and twitch with each of his motions. “P-please, I would… Please stop, now…” He doesn’t, pumping his sinful fingers into you. Teases you by dragging them out. 

You throw your head back, biting your lip. He’s panting into your ear – you’d think you were doing something to him, the way he sounds. Your overhead light beams into your gaze, dizzying. It burns, so you close your eyes, hoping this is some humiliating dream. This can’t be real. This can’t be real.

“So you say– Hey.” He nips at your ear and you stir. “Look at me. Look at me.” You do so, and find him staring up at you. His mask is not enough of a barrier. Even if you can’t see them, you know his eyes are scraping over you, peeling your skin back, seeing you whole. Your embarrassment, your weakness, your shame.

“Please stop,” you whisper, eyes stinging. Your thighs tremble, to which he places his free hand on them to steady them. This is wrong. He shouldn’t be doing this. You’re teammates. He’s your captain. 

Nightwing sighs, looking disappointed. Oh no, your mind spirals. He’s disappointed in you. Despite you being desperately uncomfortable– violated– he’s at fault– he’s the one doing something wrong– 

Despite your logical brain asserting itself, you are flooded with a tidal wave of anxiety.

“That’s not good, you know,” he says, and he looks mournful. “Whining is just what they want to hear.” His fingers disappear from your body, and their absence leaves you in shock. Wanting.

Wanting? Do I want this? you think.

Nightwing is reaching behind his neck, tugging and pulling. Before you know it, he’s bare-chested. You don’t marvel at his body, like you would have just an hour before.

“Bad guys aren’t going to listen to you just because you beg.” A tear slips down your face. You swipe at it, but not quick enough for him to miss it. “And they won’t care if you cry… Maybe you don’t need to learn how to resist. You’re not cut out for it, I think,” he tsks. “Maybe, you need to learn how to endure.”

You feel something blunt and wet prod at your entrance, and that’s when the last remains of your primal fight-or-flight instincts kick in. You start to squirm, back arching off the bed. “Please, please, please– no– stop– I don’t want this–” His hand clamps down on your mouth once more, and hard. You push him with all your might, but it’s not enough. You aren’t strong enough.

“Just the tip,” he whispers in the shell of your ear. Just the tip. You can handle at least that. Just the tip.

He repeats it for himself, not you. This you realize as he enters anyway, despite your teary complaints. It is not just the tip; he bottoms out. “You can handle this. I know you can.” 

You’re so confused. You’re so, so confused. You merely clench your eyes shut, nodding at his encouragement. You don’t know what else to do. 

“I know, I know,” he comforts. “Don’t worry, you’re taking it really well. You take it perfect.” You cling onto his words of reassurance, no matter how twisted it feels. It’s the only anchor you’ve got. Each thrust makes you see stars behind your eyelids, bed rocking. The ding of your bed frame hitting the wall is enough to make you finally quiet. The last thing you want is for the others to hear. To walk in and see you utterly helpless. Powerless. Incapable. 

You swallow your sobs, but let the tears stream freely.

“It’d be better if I just got you pregnant right now.”

You feel a cold knife of fear pierce your chest. He can’t. He can’t. You wouldn’t be able to be a hero anymore. 

“You’d be better suited for it,” he hums. You can tell he’s near, his hips snapping more frenetically, his words cut off with his own moans. You’re ashamed to admit moans of your own may have slipped out. You don’t even bother resisting at this point, hoping that if not your strength, then your body can satisfy him. Hoping at least that your body will meet his standards.

“Fuck,” you hear, and not a moment later you feel him shoot ropes of cum into your cunt. You can feel both his cock that throbs with each spray and the warmth spreading into you. You don’t know why you’re shocked at the sensation – it wasn’t as if he seemed keen on using a condom. Nightwing’s hands release you, having gripped you so hard you’re sure you’ve bruised.

He dots sweet kisses along your neck, your collarbone, your cheek. It should be all very sweet, but you can't ignore the poison of the circumstance. “You did so good, you did perfect,” are amongst the accolades he whispers into your clammy skin. You nod weakly, letting him kiss your tears away.

Nightwing dives in for a kiss, desperate to take even more than you’ve already given him. You return it, heart palpitating. You bat away the negative thoughts that threaten to swarm your mind whole. No more negative self-talk, after all. No self-deprecation. It’s okay. You took it well. You endured, like he said.

You did perfect.

[nickeverdeen]

Hi could you do a five hargreeves x female!reader where reader is normal and doesn't have powers but she's a genius and basically has a photographic memory, and she meets five and he's a bit mean and snarky but eventually he starts to fall for her

I also think it would be funny if she was kinda best friends with Klaus and he kinda teases her about five, but you don't have to include that

Guns And Brains | Five Hargreeves x genius fem!reader

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x fem!reader, Klaus Hargreeves x fem!reader (best friend)

Warning: None

PS: Sorry for the unoriginal title

———————————

You were used to being the smartest person in the room. It wasn’t arrogance; it was simply a fact. Your photographic memory allowed you to absorb and recall information with an almost eerie accuracy. In school, you never needed to study, and in life, you rarely encountered a problem you couldn’t solve. You had grown accustomed to the bemused looks and occasional irritation that came from people who found your talents either intimidating or annoying.

Yet here you are, standing in the middle of an ancient-looking mansion, face-to-face with a boy who exuded an air of superiority that rubbed you entirely the wrong way. Five Hargreeves—if you remembered correctly from the vague mentions in tabloids about the dysfunctional Umbrella Academy—was a strange, prodigious enigma. He looked like a teenager, but there was something in his eyes that suggested he was anything but.

From the moment Klaus had introduced you, you could sense the tension brewing. It wasn’t just the way Five had narrowed his eyes at you, or the clipped tone he used when addressing you. It was the challenge in his gaze, the unspoken assertion that he was smarter, quicker, better. The way he practically dared you to prove him wrong.

“Who’s this?” Five had asked, his tone flat and disinterested, as if your presence was more of an inconvenience than anything else.

“This is Y/N,” Klaus had said cheerfully, apparently oblivious to the storm clouds brewing between them. “She’s got a brain like a supercomputer—remember everything she’s ever read, seen, or heard. Thought she might be able to help us out.”

Five’s eyes had flickered with something—annoyance, skepticism, you couldn’t quite tell. “We don’t need help,” he’d said brusquely. “Especially not from someone who thinks they can waltz in and solve problems that are far beyond their understanding.”

And there it was—the gauntlet thrown down. You had felt your spine stiffen, your own competitive streak flaring up in response. You didn’t like the way he assumed you were just some book-smart outsider with no practical experience, especially when he hadn’t even given you a chance to prove otherwise.

“I’m not here to solve your problems,” you replied, your tone sharp. “But from what I’ve heard, you could use all the help you can get.”

Klaus had tried to mediate, sensing the tension. “Alright, kids, play nice. We’re all on the same team here.”

But you had seen the look in Five’s eyes—a mix of condescension and irritation. He clearly didn’t think much of you, and that was something you weren’t about to let slide. If there was one thing you despised, it was being underestimated.

The first few days in the mansion were… interesting, to say the least. Klaus had introduced you to the rest of the siblings, all of whom had their own unique quirks and issues. Luther was stoic and serious, Allison was kind but guarded, Diego was intense, and Viktor was quiet, almost withdrawn. They were an odd bunch, but in some ways, you felt more at ease with them than you did with Five.

Five, on the other hand, seemed determined to make you feel unwelcome. Whenever you offered a suggestion, he’d shoot it down without a second thought. When you tried to engage him in a discussion about the theories he was working on, he’d dismiss your opinions with a wave of his hand, as if your thoughts were nothing more than background noise.

It was infuriating.

At first, you tried to stay calm. Your reminded yourself that you were here to help, not to butt heads with a stubborn man who had likely seen more in his lifetime than you could ever imagine. But as the days passed, you found your patience wearing thin.

The breaking point came one evening when you were all gathered around the dining table, discussing the latest anomaly that Five was trying to unravel. He was pacing back and forth, spouting off calculations and theories at a rapid pace. The others were listening intently, but you could see the confusion in their eyes.

“Maybe if we adjusted the parameters slightly,” you suggested, your tone measured, “we could account for the temporal flux and—”

Five cut you off with a snort. “That’s a ridiculous idea. Adjusting the parameters would only destabilize the entire equation. You clearly don’t understand the complexities of time travel.”

Your jaw clenched. “And you clearly don’t understand the value of listening to other people’s input. Just because you’ve traveled through time doesn’t mean you know everything.”

Five stopped pacing and turned to face you, his expression cold. “I’ve spent decades—decades—working on these equations. You’ve been here for a week. Don’t presume to know more than I do.”

The room went silent. The others exchanged uneasy glances, but you didn’t back down. You were tired of Five’s arrogance, tired of him treating you like you were some naive child who had wandered into his domain.

“Maybe I don’t know more than you,” you said, your voice steady. “But I’m not an idiot, and I’m not going to stand here and let you treat me like one. If you’re so confident in your theories, then why not test them? Or are you afraid that someone else might actually have a better idea?”

Five’s eyes narrowed. “Fine,” he said, his tone icy. “Let’s test it. And when it fails, you can stop wasting our time with your half-baked theories.”

You didn’t respond. You simply nodded and turned your attention back to the problem at hand, determined to prove him wrong.

The next few days were tense, to say the least. You and Five worked together, but it was clear that neither of you were happy about it. Every interaction was laced with sarcasm and thinly veiled insults. Yet, beneath the hostility, there was a grudging respect forming, though neither of you would admit it.

Despite his arrogance, you couldn’t help but be impressed by Five’s intellect. He was brilliant, there was no denying that. His mind worked at a speed that rivaled your own, and his knowledge of temporal mechanics was unmatched. But he was also infuriatingly stubborn, refusing to consider any idea that wasn’t his own.

For his part, Five found himself both annoyed and intrigued by you. You were smart—smarter than he’d initially given you credit for. Your insights were often sharp and on point, even if he was loath to admit it. But what bothered him the most was how you challenged him, pushing back against his authority in a way no one else dared to. It was unsettling, and yet… he found himself drawn to it.

One afternoon, as you were pouring over another set of calculations, you suddenly spoke up.

“I’ve been thinking,” you said, not looking up from the paper in front of you.

“Dangerous,” Five muttered under his breath, but there was no real bite to his words.

You ignored him. “You’re right about the temporal flux destabilizing if we adjust the parameters too much. But what if we didn’t adjust them directly? What if we introduced a stabilizing agent that could counterbalance the fluctuations?”

Five paused, considering your words. It wasn’t a completely ridiculous idea. In fact, it was… interesting. But he wasn’t about to let you know that.

“It’s a long shot,” he said instead, his tone dismissive.

“Maybe,” you conceded. “But it’s worth a try. Unless you have a better idea?”

Five scowled, but there was no real heat behind it. “Fine. We’ll try it your way. But don’t get used to it.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you replied, a small smirk playing on your lips.

As you worked together, there was a noticeable shift in the air between you two. The barbs were still there, but they were less sharp, the insults less cutting. It was as if you were beginning to acknowledge each other as equals—rivals, perhaps, but with a mutual respect that was slowly, begrudgingly, forming.

Weeks passed, and the initial tension between you and Five began to ease, replaced by a rhythm of sorts. You still bickered, still challenged each other at every turn, but there was a camaraderie in it now. A strange, twisted camaraderie, but camaraderie nonetheless.

The others noticed it too. Klaus, in particular, found endless amusement in your interactions, often teasing you about your “little crush” on Five.

“Admit it,” Klaus says with a grin. “You two are just one good argument away from kissing.”

You roll your eyes, brushing off his comments, but you couldn’t deny that there was a certain… tension between you and Five. Not that you would ever admit it out loud. The last thing you wanted was to give Five the satisfaction of knowing he got under your skin in more ways than one.

But the turning point came one evening, when you were working late in the mansion’s library. The room was dimly lit, the only sound the soft rustle of papers as you pored over your latest set of equations. You were focused, your mind fully absorbed in the problem at hand, when you felt a pair of eyes on you.

You looked up, only to find Five watching you, his expression unreadable. For a moment, neither of you spoke. There was something in his gaze, something that made your heart skip a beat.

“What?” You asked, your voice softer than you intended.

Five hesitated, as if weighing his words carefully. “You’re not as annoying as I thought you were.”

It wasn’t exactly a compliment, but coming from Five, it was close enough. You felt a small smile tug at your lips. “You’re not as unbearable as I thought you were either.”

Five’s lips quirked up in the faintest hint of a smile. “High praise.”

You fell into a comfortable silence after that, the tension between you two shifting into something else. Something neither of you were quite ready to name.

[gyorouis]

𐙚 HOPELESSLY YOURS - CYJ

— you don't want to be his girlfriend? well he theorizes you are just in denial.

genre: fluff, crack, strangers to lovers trope ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱

pairing: persistent suitor!yeonjun x afab!reader

warning: kiss (?), lots of swearing, kms jokes, if i forgot anything pls let me know !!

word count: 8.1k (lol)

now playing: eraserheads — ligaya ୨ৎ

the hall buzzed with chatter and laughter as the alumni homecoming party got into full swing. yeonjun walked in, greeted by the familiar sights and sounds of old friends and acquaintances. he quickly spotted his group in the corner, huddled around a table far from the dance floor and the bar, where most people were gathered.

“yeonjun! over here!” soobin waved, standing up to give his friend a quick hug.

beomgyu was already slouched in his chair, scrolling through his phone with a look of pure boredom. hueningkai and taehyun were quietly chatting, occasionally glancing around the room as if to make sure no one was watching them too closely.

“finally, you’re here,” taehyun said with a smirk. “thought you were gonna ditch us for some popular crowd.”

yeonjun grinned, pulling out a chair to join them. “as if i’d leave you guys to fend for yourselves.”

“parties, man. never really amuses me,” beomgyu muttered, not even bothering to look up from his phone.

taehyun chuckled, “funny coming from the guy who never missed a single one in college.”

the group laughed, the sound carrying memories of their younger days. there was a comfortable silence that followed as they all seemed to drift back to the past.

“remember how beomgyu used to pick fights with anyone who looked at him funny?” soobin said, a teasing smile on his face.

“or when yeonjun and taehyun nearly killed each other over the mvp title during high school?” hueningkai added, his eyes sparkling with the memory.

“don’t forget hueningkai’s epic rants about being stood up during highschool,” taehyun said, nudging kai with his elbow.

“hey, that was a dark time for me!” hueningkai pouted, making everyone laugh.

“and soobin... staying up late, obsessing over keeping his room spotless before we came over for sleepovers,” yeonjun added, grinning at the tall guy.

“hey, someone had to make sure you guys didn’t destroy the place,” soobin replied, chuckling.

they exchanged looks, the kind that only old friends could share, and smiled at each other, a genuine warmth settling over them. it was soobin who broke the silence.

“remember the time when yeonjun was courting y/n?” he asked, eyes twinkling with mischief.

yeonjun immediately groaned, covering his face with his hand. “why do you have to bring that up?”

hueningkai jumped in, “oh, and the way he cried when y/n rejected him the first time? classic.”

they all chuckled at the memory, and yeonjun couldn’t help but smile, even if it was at his own expense. how could he forget about it? afterall, you are the first girl who ever made him question himself.

“no, i don’t want to be your girlfriend.” your voice was steady, almost monotone, and it hit yeonjun like a lightning bolt. rejection? from you?

yeonjun wasn’t used to this. in high school, girls practically lined up to say yes to him, like their lives depended on it. but you… you were different. you didn’t even know who he was until college orientation, when you were both sophomores. the first time he saw you, assisting students with your hair in a messy ponytail, yeonjun was completely captivated.

since that day, he made it his mission to find out everything about you, even going so far as to befriend professors to make sure he took the same minors as you.

“dude, i think she likes me,” yeonjun announced one evening, smirking as the five of them sat in a pc cafe. beomgyu gave him a skeptical look.

“the fuck you talking about?” beomgyu muttered, not bothering to look away from his game.

“i mean, she looks at me,” yeonjun said, giggling as he recalled the time you watched him during an extemporaneous speech competition.

“she’s got eyes, dude,” soobin replied without missing a beat.

“wasn’t that when you were giving a speech?” taehyun added, earning a groan from yeonjun.

“and she clapped,” yeonjun argued, trying to ignore the fact that it was just polite to clap after a performance.

“everybody claps, dude,” hueningkai finished, making yeonjun tsk in frustration before turning his attention back to the game.

it had been like this for a good couple of months—yeonjun’s subtle attempts to catch your attention, his not-so-subtle theories about your feelings for him, and your complete obliviousness to it all. he was persistent, though, and eventually, he decided it was time to take the first real move.

one day, during a small thesis preparation session, you were flipping through pages of research, trying to figure out a topic that wouldn’t bore you to death. the professor had assigned everyone a two-person thesis project, and the thought of finding a partner had been weighing on your mind. you were about to ask one of your friends when yeonjun suddenly appeared beside you, his voice confident and almost commanding.

“hey, you’re my partner for the thesis,” he declared, not even bothering to ask if you agreed.

you blinked, staring at him in confusion. “uh… excuse me?”

“you heard me,” he said with a grin, and before you could protest or even process what was happening, he was already halfway out the door. “see you tomorrow for our first meeting!”

you sat there, dumbfounded. as far as you could remember, you’d never had any significant interaction with yeonjun during the entire semester. he’d only recently transferred into your schedule, and other than the occasional nod in the hallway or a brief hello in class, there was nothing between the two of you. yet here he was, claiming you as his thesis partner as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

the next day, you found yourself in the library, seated at a table piled high with books and notes. you were trying to focus on the thesis outline when yeonjun walked in, looking far too cheerful for someone about to dive into hours of research.

“ready to get started?” he asked, sliding into the seat across from you.

“i guess,” you replied, still a bit wary of him. “so, why did you pick me as your partner? there were plenty of other people you could’ve asked.”

yeonjun shrugged, giving you one of those infuriatingly charming smiles. “i figured you’d be the best match for me. plus, i heard you’re really smart.”

you raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced. “you don’t even know me.”

“sure i do,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “you’re y/n. you’re always on top of things, you’re not afraid to speak your mind, and you have this cool way of looking at the world. who wouldn’t want you as a partner?”

his words left you momentarily speechless. was he seriously trying to flatter you? and more importantly, was he succeeding? you pushed the thought aside, focusing on the task at hand.

“well, if we’re going to work together, we need to set some ground rules,” you said, trying to sound firm. “no slacking off, no leaving everything to the last minute, and definitely no distractions.”

yeonjun held up his hands in mock surrender. “whatever you say, boss.”

despite your initial reservations, the study session went surprisingly well. yeonjun was focused and surprisingly knowledgeable about the topic you’d chosen. you found yourself actually enjoying the collaboration, even if he did have a habit of cracking jokes at the most inappropriate moments.

“so, after we finish this part, we should—” you started to say, but yeonjun interrupted.

“take a break and get some ice cream?”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “finish the outline first, then we’ll talk about ice cream.”

“deal,” yeonjun agreed, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

after a few more study sessions, yeonjun’s persistence only grew. he started finding excuses to hang out with you more often, from asking you to help him with other assignments to randomly showing up wherever you were. it was clear he was trying to make a move, but you weren’t sure how to respond.

one day after class, yeonjun casually invited you to join him and his friends for lunch.

“you should come sit with us today,” yeonjun said, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

you hesitated, not sure if you were ready to dive into his social circle. “um… i don’t know…”

“come on, it’ll be fun,” he urged, flashing that smile of his, the one that made it really hard to say no. “my friends are cool, i promise.”

reluctantly, you agreed. before you knew it, you were walking with yeonjun toward the cafeteria, your nerves tightening with each step.

as you approached the crowded cafeteria, yeonjun spotted his friends before you did. “there they are!” he waved, his voice tinged with excitement. you followed his gaze and saw a group of people sitting at a table, chatting animatedly.

the first person who caught your eye was a guy with long hair and white streaks. he was looking at the two of you with a teasing glint in his eyes, and you immediately felt your brows knit in confusion. yeonjun just gave you a knowing smile before gesturing for you to walk with him to their table.

“hey, this is y/n!” yeonjun introduced you, his voice a little too enthusiastic. you glanced around the table, trying to take in everyone at once. there was a tall guy who seemed taller even when he’s sitting down, and beside him was a girl who looked like she could be his girlfriend. across from them, another guy with bleached hair sat next to a girl who had a bright, friendly smile.

“hi! i’m beomgyu!” the long-haired guy with the white streaks grinned at you, clearly the one who had been teasing yeonjun earlier. you smiled back, nodding in acknowledgment.

before you could say anything, another guy with silver hair, his aura not as bright as the others, piped up. “dude, there are no pepsi today, we got you coke and lemonade instead.”

you realized he was talking to yeonjun, who just nodded and gave a small “thanks” before turning back to you.

“what are you waiting for? christmas? sit!” beomgyu gestured for you to sit, and you chuckled before finding a seat between yeonjun and the girl next to the tall guy.

the lunch was surprisingly fun. the guys bantered nonstop, making you laugh more than you had in a while. you quickly found yourself warming up to soobin, the tall guy, and his girlfriend, she had introduced herself to you as well. they were sweet and easy to talk to, and you couldn’t help but feel grateful that yeonjun had asked you to join them.

“so, y/n,” beomgyu leaned in, that mischievous grin back on his face, “how long have you been putting up with yeonjun?”

you rolled your eyes playfully, trying to play along. “not long,” you replied. “we’re thesis partners, so i guess i’m stuck with him for a while.”

“poor thing,” taehyun, the silver haired one, said with mock sympathy, earning laughter from the rest of the group.

as the conversation flowed, you found yourself getting into a lighthearted debate with soobin about the best study spots on campus. what started as a simple disagreement somehow turned into a full-blown group discussion about everything from favorite coffee shops to weird professors.

just as you were starting to feel truly comfortable, beomgyu decided to stir the pot. “anyway, y/n, how long have you two been dating?” he asked casually, his tone too innocent to be genuine.

you nearly choked on your food. “w-we’re not dating!” you stammered, your face burning with embarrassment.

yeonjun, who had been in the middle of taking a bite of his sandwich, almost spit it out in surprise. “yeah, what she said!” he quickly added, his voice a little too loud, his eyes wide with panic.

“aw, come on, you two would be cute together,” beomgyu teased, waggling his eyebrows, clearly enjoying the chaos he was causing.

“seriously, beomgyu, knock it off,” taehyun said, though his smirk made it clear he was just as amused as beomgyu.

you shot yeonjun a look, silently pleading with him to say something, anything, to shut beomgyu up. but yeonjun just laughed it off, nudging you playfully. the moment you started stammering, denying it with all your might, yeonjun felt his own cheeks heat up. he had quickly jumped in to support your denial, but the damage had been done. he could see the embarrassment written all over your face, and it made his heart sink.

“relax, y/n,” he said, his tone light and teasing. “he’s just messing with you.”

you managed a weak smile, but inside, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this lunch had been a terrible idea. as much as you were starting to like yeonjun’s friends, the attention and teasing were making you feel overwhelmed. as much as he wanted to laugh it off, to make you feel at ease, he couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling in the back of his mind. maybe he had pushed too hard, too fast. maybe bringing you into his world like this had been a mistake.

but then he saw you smiling weakly, trying to laugh along with the rest of them, and he felt a pang of guilt. he had wanted to share his friends with you, to make you feel welcome, but now he wasn’t so sure if that was what you wanted.

as the lunch went on, yeonjun found himself glancing at you more often, trying to gauge how you were feeling. when you finally caught his eye, he offered you a small, apologetic smile, hoping it was enough to convey what he couldn’t put into words.

the night was the same as usual, the five of them scattered around soobin’s living room, snacks strewn everywhere. yeonjun was pacing back and forth, running his fingers through his hair for what felt like the millionth time, repeating the same thing he’d been saying all night.

“i’m telling you guys, she likes me!”

the collective groan that followed was almost in perfect harmony.

“yeonjun, this is like, the eighth time this week you’ve said that,” taehyun muttered, rubbing his temples. “and it’s only wednesday.”

“i think she does,” hueningkai chimed in, leaning back against the couch, his tone thoughtful. yeonjun’s eyes lit up, only to dim a second later when kai added, “...but she doesn’t want to be in a relationship with you.”

yeonjun’s smile dropped as fast as it had appeared, and he shot hueningkai a sharp look. “what do you mean by that?”

beomgyu snickered from his spot on the floor, popping a chip into his mouth. “who would want to be with you, though?” he said with a smirk.

without missing a beat, yeonjun pointed dramatically at beomgyu, echoing his words with exaggerated emphasis. “WHO WOULD WANT to be with you!”

beomgyu burst into laughter, clearly satisfied with the reaction he’d gotten, and soon everyone else was laughing too—except for yeonjun, of course.

“i’m serious, guys!” yeonjun insisted, crossing his arms over his chest. “she’s gonna be my girlfriend, and when that happens, i. will. kill. y’all.”

beomgyu shrugged nonchalantly, barely containing his grin. “well, i guess i’m going to live a long life then.”

the room erupted in laughter again, and yeonjun threw a pillow at beomgyu, who dodged it with ease.

before yeonjun could argue further, his mind drifted back to earlier that day—back to when you had looked him dead in the eye and shattered his confidence in one fell swoop.

“are you even listening?” your sharp voice snapped him back to reality.

he blinked, realizing he had been spacing out. “w-what were you saying again?”

“i said i don’t want to be your girlfriend,” you repeated, the words hitting him like a ton of bricks.

his eyes widened in shock. “huh? i mean, why?” he blurted out, completely dumbfounded.

you stared at him in disbelief. “what the fuck do you mean, why?”

“like, uh... why?” he repeated, sounding even more clueless.

you sighed, exasperated. “why? well, who asks someone to be their girlfriend like they’re asking about the weather?!” you hissed, lowering your voice to avoid drawing attention from the other students.

yeonjun scratched the back of his neck in defeat, letting out an awkward chuckle. “so… no?”

“didn’t i just say that?” you retorted, raising an eyebrow.

before yeonjun could attempt to salvage the situation, the bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch period. you grabbed your things and stood up. “i’m going to my next class. i’ll just see you around.”

yeonjun watched you walk away, his mind reeling. see you around? even after blatantly rejecting him, you still expected to see him around? he took a deep breath, trying to shake off the embarrassment, and then smiled to himself.

later that day, back in soobin’s living room, yeonjun was ready to reveal his latest revelation.

“dude, i have a new theory...” yeonjun began, his eyes sparkling with renewed determination.

another round of groans filled the room, this time louder and more exaggerated.

“have you lost your mind? you were just crying earlier, saying, ‘fuck, she doesn’t like me, dude, i think i’m gonna die,’ and now you’re yapping again about some new theory?” beomgyu said, rubbing his eyes.

“dude, you can practically publish a book about your theories at this point,” soobin added, not even trying to hide his exasperation.

“this is the last time, i promise!” yeonjun said, holding up his hands in a gesture of sincerity that none of them believed for a second.

the four of them released a collective sigh, clearly not convinced. “say it,” hueningkai said, gesturing for yeonjun to continue.

“well, uh... i think she likes me... BUT! but, she’s in denial,” yeonjun announced, looking immensely proud of himself.

there was a brief, heavy silence before soobin broke it with a sigh so deep it sounded like it came from his soul. “god... i feel sorry for you, dude. to be honest.”

“that’s not impossible,” beomgyu chimed in, and everyone turned to look at him, surprised that he was actually supporting yeonjun’s theory. but then, with a wicked grin, he added, “that is... if she hasn’t lost her mind yet.”

soobin didn’t hesitate to smack beomgyu upside the head. “we’re being honest here, dumbass.”

“i am telling the truth,” beomgyu protested, rubbing the back of his head.

before yeonjun could dive further into his theory, taehyun, who had been quiet up until now, spoke up. “give it time.”

“huh?” yeonjun blinked, caught off guard.

“i said give it time,” taehyun repeated, his voice calm and steady. “you don’t have any reason to rush things.”

“yeah, thought so,” soobin agreed, nodding. “besides, if you keep pushing, you might just push her away for good.”

yeonjun sighed, flopping down onto the couch between taehyun and hueningkai. “you guys might be right... but what if i’m right too?”

“well, then maybe—maybe—we’ll help you plan your wedding,” beomgyu teased, barely holding back a laugh.

“yeah, and i’ll be the best man,” hueningkai added, grinning.

“only if i get to be the one who objects during the ceremony,” soobin quipped.

“you’re all assholes,” yeonjun groaned, but he couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. as frustrating as it was, he knew they were right. he would just have to be patient and see how things played out.

but that didn’t mean he was giving up on you—not by a long shot.

you tried to distance yourself from yeonjun a bit. it wasn’t that you didn’t like him—on the contrary, you found him charming in a strange, infuriating way. but the attention, the teasing, and the constant questioning were too much for you. you weren’t used to this kind of pressure, and you weren’t sure how to deal with it.

but yeonjun was nothing if not persistent. he continued to show up at your study sessions, continued to find reasons to hang out with you, and continued to wear down your defenses with that disarming smile of his.

“you can’t avoid me forever, you know,” he said one day as you both sat in the library, working on your thesis. he had that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes, the one that told you he was up to something.

“i’m not avoiding you,” you replied, keeping your eyes on your notes. “i’m just… busy.”

“busy avoiding me,” he teased, leaning a little closer to you.

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “you’re impossible.”

“and yet, you still agreed to be my partner,” he pointed out, his grin widening.

“only because you didn’t give me a choice,” you shot back, though there was no real heat in your words.

“true,” he admitted, leaning back in his chair. “but i think you’re starting to like me.”

you scoffed, trying to hide the way your heart skipped a beat at his words. “in your dreams, yeonjun.”

he just laughed, a warm, genuine sound that made your chest tighten in a way you weren’t ready to acknowledge. “maybe,” he said, shrugging as if it didn’t matter, though the playful gleam in his eyes told a different story. “but hey, dreams have a way of becoming reality.”

you tried to focus on your work, but yeonjun’s presence was impossible to ignore. the way he leaned back in his chair, casually confident, as if he knew exactly how much he was getting under your skin. it was infuriating, and yet there was something oddly comforting about his persistence.

“seriously, though,” he continued after a moment, his tone softening just a fraction. “i get that you’re not used to all this—hanging out with a new group, getting teased and stuff. but you don’t have to deal with it alone. i’m here, you know?”

his words caught you off guard, and you glanced up at him, surprised by the sincerity in his expression. “why do you care so much?” you asked, genuinely curious.

yeonjun’s smile faltered for just a second before he recovered, leaning forward slightly. “because… i like you, y/n. and not just as my thesis partner. i know i can be a lot to handle, but i want to get to know you better. and i want you to know me too.”

your heart skipped another beat, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. yeonjun had always been confident, maybe even a little cocky, but there was something vulnerable in the way he looked at you now, something that made you realize that his persistence wasn’t just a game to him.

“yeonjun…” you began, but he cut you off, shaking his head with a small, rueful smile.

“you don’t have to say anything now,” he said quickly. “i just wanted you to know where i stand. we can keep working on this thesis and see where things go, no pressure.”

you nodded, your thoughts a jumbled mess. yeonjun’s confession had thrown you off balance, and suddenly the lines between friendship, partnership, and something more seemed a lot blurrier than they had before.

“okay,” you finally said, your voice quieter than you intended. “but… let’s just take it slow, okay?”

yeonjun’s smile returned, softer this time, and he reached out to gently tap your hand with his fingers. “slow is good,” he agreed. “i’m not going anywhere.”

you found yourself smiling back, a warmth spreading through you that you couldn’t quite explain. maybe yeonjun was right—maybe you were starting to like him, just a little bit. and perhaps, that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

one night, you woke up to the sound of low murmurs around you. disoriented, you looked around, trying to figure out where the noise was coming from. you were both working on your thesis and were at your house, but you could hear the faint clinking of pots and pans coming from the kitchen. you groggily got up, stretching your arms and shuffling towards the source of the sound.

in the kitchen, you found yeonjun and your mom busy cooking. the scene was oddly comforting: your mom, apron on, and yeonjun, looking surprisingly at ease in your home. the smell of sinigang filled the air, and yeonjun was animatedly talking about how much he loved your mom’s cooking, from her turon, empanadas to her banana cue and kamote cue. and even though it was scorching hot outside, he hadn’t let your mom’s ginataang bilo-bilo go to waste.

“hey,” you said, breaking their conversation. “what’s going on here?”

“oh, you’re just in time,” your mom said with a smile. “the rice is almost ready. yeonjun helped me with dinner tonight.”

yeonjun turned to you with a grin. “yeah, your mom is an amazing cook. i may have talked her ear off about how much i love her food.”

“i swear, it’s like your mom has magic in her hands,” he said dramatically. “i couldn’t let any of it go to waste, especially having a taste of that sinigang we just cooked? god, it was so good, i nearly cried.”

you raised an eyebrow, walking over to the stove and peering into the pot. “so, you’ve been raving about my mom’s cooking to her face, and now you’re here in our kitchen, making yourself at home?”

yeonjun, trying to look innocent, shrugged. “i figured, if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. and if you’re going to be in my life, you might as well get used to my mom’s cooking too.”

your mom was beaming with pride. “he’s been a delight to have around. and besides, it’s nice to have someone appreciate my cooking so much.”

you glanced at yeonjun, you laughed, shaking your head. “i see you’re getting along just fine.”

“getting along? we’re practically best friends now,” yeonjun said, pretending to clink imaginary glasses with your mom. “we’ve bonded over food and shared laughs. next thing you know, we’ll be singing karaoke together.”

your mom chuckled. “oh, don’t tempt him. he’s already asked me if he could join us for karaoke night.”

“see?” yeonjun said, giving you a thumbs-up. “i’m fitting in perfectly.”

the conversation shifted to the final touches of the meal. your mom had whipped up a feast that included sinigang, a side of crispy lumpia, and yeonjun’s personal favorite, turon. as you all sat down to eat, yeonjun began a somewhat clumsy yet endearing attempt at conversation.

“hey,” he started, his mouth full of lumpia, “what’s your favorite dish your mom makes?”

“that’s a tough one,” you said, laughing. “i’d have to say the empanadas. they’re a family favorite.”

“good choice,” yeonjun said, nodding vigorously. “i was about to say the same thing. but honestly, everything your mom makes is amazing.”

“flattery will get you everywhere,” your mom said with a wink.

yeonjun looked at you, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “so, now that i’ve been properly introduced to your mom’s cooking, are you finally going to admit that i’m not so bad after all?”

“admit?” you said, raising an eyebrow. “you’re lucky my mom likes you. that’s the only reason you’re not getting kicked out right now.”

yeonjun feigned a dramatic gasp. “kicked out? but i’ve just started my career as your unofficial sous-chef!”

your mom laughed heartily, adding, “don’t worry, yeonjun. i’m quite fond of you already. just don’t let it go to your head.” you laughed, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all. the evening had turned into a delightful mess of food, laughter, and unexpected bond your mom and yeonjun made.

after dinner, you decided to walk yeonjun to the nearest jeep terminal. the evening air was cooler, and the streetlights cast a soft glow over the two of you. as you walked, yeonjun suddenly brought up a topic that made you stop in your tracks.

“your mom approved,” he said, smirking.

“approved of what?” you asked, confused.

“of me courting you,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“what the f—” you began, but yeonjun quickly covered your mouth with his hand.

“can you please calm down? you’re unbelievable,” he said, chuckling.

“why the heck did you tell my mom you’re courting me?” you asked once he finally removed his hand.

“what’s wrong with that? i’m courting you, right?” he asked with a grin.

“huh? you’re not!” you said, punctuating your words with playful punches to his arm. yeonjun let out a low grunt but seemed amused by your reaction.

“i am!” he insisted.

“you’ve never even asked me!” you said, continuing your playful assault on his arm. yeonjun stopped and stood still, causing you to cease your punches.

“hmm, so i didn’t made it obvious?” he asked, suddenly holding your face in his hands.

“then let me say it,” he started, and you felt a surge of panic as he held your face. “i will court you,” he finished, pinching your cheek lightly.

“no! i never said yes in the first place,” you protested.

“did i ask? i just informed you that i’m courting you from now on, even though i’ve been courting you since the day you rejected me,” he said, his voice dropping as he mentioned the rejection.

you rolled your eyes, and yeonjun gave a thumbs-up as he smiled widely. you turned around to see your mom giving a thumbs-up too, jumping with excitement as if she had won the lottery.

“mom!” you exclaimed, realizing that this was probably what they were discussing in the kitchen earlier.

“don’t worry, y/n,” your mom called out from the porch, waving enthusiastically. “i’m rooting for you two!”

you groaned, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement. yeonjun just laughed, clearly enjoying the chaos he had created.

“welcome to my life,” you muttered, shaking your head.

yeonjun’s grin widened. “oh, i’m just getting started.”

the days following yeonjun’s bold declaration of courtship were nothing short of a whirlwind. it seemed he had taken it upon himself to transform every mundane moment into an adventure. it wasn’t just about grand gestures; it was the little, unexpected things that made you laugh and sometimes question your sanity.

one bright afternoon, yeonjun showed up at your doorstep, not with flowers or a typical date night setup, but with an enormous picnic basket. his outfit was equally extravagant—he wore a sun hat with a wide brim and aviator sunglasses that made him look like he was preparing for a high-fashion photoshoot rather than a simple outing.

“ready for the most extravagant picnic of your life?” he announced with a flourish, spreading out a checkered blanket on the grass with a dramatic sweep that looked like he was setting up a stage for a grand performance.

you couldn’t help but laugh as you glanced from the basket to yeonjun’s over-the-top attire. “yeonjun, you do realize we’re just having a picnic, not hosting a royal banquet, right?”

“every moment with you is royal,” he said, winking with such confidence you almost believed him. “now, let’s see what we have here.” he began to unpack the basket with exaggerated care, revealing a mountain of turon, banana cue, and a sizable container of ginataang bilo-bilo.

“are you trying to win me over with food?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as he proudly displayed his assortment.

“well, it worked on your mom,” he said, taking a bite of a banana cue and looking excessively pleased with himself. “and i’m pretty sure it’ll work on you too.”

the picnic was a scene of endless laughter, food, and minor disasters. yeonjun’s attempts to be suave occasionally faltered, like when he accidentally knocked over the entire drink cooler, drenching both of you in iced tea. the sight of yeonjun covered in sticky tea, flailing his arms while trying to salvage the situation, had you both in stitches.

“i guess this is what they call a splash hit,” you joked, trying to contain your laughter as yeonjun attempted to mop up the mess with a napkin.

“oh, very punny,” yeonjun said, shaking his head with a grin. “i suppose it’s just another chapter in our epic picnic saga.”

as the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the park, yeonjun decided it was time for a “romantic stroll.” in reality, it was more of a clumsy run as he attempted to balance a massive bouquet of flowers—now slightly wilted from the iced tea incident—while dodging every stray dog and jogger that crossed your path.

“is it just me,” yeonjun panted between breaths, “or does the park look extra magical tonight?”

“that’s just the sun setting,” you replied, trying to hold back a grin. “but if you want to call it magic, go ahead.”

“magic it is,” he declared with a dramatic twirl, nearly colliding with a nearby lamp post. “now, let’s talk about our future. i’m thinking we’ll have a castle, a thousand turon makers, and a personal chef who specializes in banana cue.”

“sounds like a dream of you,” you said, laughing. “but let’s start with a dinner that doesn’t involve tripping over every piece of furniture.”

yeonjun’s face lit up with a mix of pride and amusement. “you know, i think we make a pretty good team. i bring the over-the-top gestures, and you keep me grounded. it’s a perfect balance.”

that night, as you both lay on the grass, gazing up at the stars while trying to impress you with his knowledge of constellations—although he kept mixing up orion with the big dipper. yeonjun continued his enthusiastic commentary on how great it was to finally be able to court you. he regaled you with exaggerated stories of his friends’ reactions to his new mission. apparently, his friends were both amazed and amused, with yeonjun’s tales of triumphs and mishaps becoming legendary in their group chats.

“so, i told beomgyu about the picnic,” yeonjun said, propping himself up on one elbow, “and he literally laughed so hard he fell off the bed.”

“sounds like quite the reaction,” you said, trying not to laugh.

“oh, it was,” yeonjun continued, “and then kai started teasing me about how i’m ‘the king of courtship disasters,’ which i thought was pretty unfair. if you ask me.” he looks at you. “i’m pretty sure that’s not how everyone measures their courtship skills,” you teased.

“well, i’m setting a new standard,” yeonjun said confidently. “besides, i’ve been studying the stars. did you know that orion’s belt is actually just three stars in a row?”

“i thought you were going to impress me with constellations,” you said with a smile.

“i’m working on it,” yeonjun said, squinting up at the sky. “but i think the real magic is in how we manage to turn every moment into an adventure.”

you lay there, enjoying the cool night air and the warmth of yeonjun’s presence beside you. his words were as comforting as they were amusing, and you couldn’t deny the charm of his quirky, earnest attempts to make every moment memorable.

“well,” you said, nudging him playfully, “as long as you keep being this ridiculously endearing, i think i’ll manage.”

yeonjun looked at you with a grin that could light up the night. “deal. and who knows? maybe next time, i’ll serenade you under the stars. though, i can’t guarantee i won’t mix up orion with the big dipper again.”

“oh, i’m counting on it,” you said, laughing. 

a few weeks into the courtship, yeonjun had a sleepover at soobin’s place with a few of his friends—soobin, beomgyu, taehyun, and hueningkai. they had gathered for a casual hangout, but yeonjun’s excitement about your dates led him to share every detail with his friends. unfortunately, they had already fallen asleep on the living room floor, exhausted from a long day of activities.

yeonjun was sprawled on the couch, practically bursting with energy as he talked animatedly to the empty room. “guys, you won’t believe how amazing the date was last night. we went to this new restaurant, and the food—oh my god, the food was incredible.”

soobin was sprawled on the floor, snoring softly, while beomgyu had drifted off with his head resting on a pile of pillows. taehyun was half-asleep, his head bobbing with each word yeonjun said. hueningkai had passed out with a bag of chips still clutched in his hand.

“so, we tried this new dessert,” yeonjun continued, oblivious to his friends’ slumber. “it was this amazing fusion of all our favorite flavors. and then we had this huge debate about whether pineapple belongs on pizza. i mean, can you believe it?”

yeonjun’s voice was a mixture of excitement and nostalgia as he recounted the smallest details. “and she laughed so hard when i tried to impress her with my ‘impressive’ dance moves. totally epic fail, but she loved it anyway.”

a few muffled groans and sighs from his friends indicated they were barely hanging on, but yeonjun was undeterred. “oh, and we ended the night stargazing one time. i tried so hard to be all poetic, but she kept pointing out how i mixed up orion’s belt with the big dipper. it was so funny.”

taehyun, now fully awake but still half-lying on the floor, mumbled, “yeonjun, we get it. your date was amazing. can we sleep now?”

“wait, there’s more!” yeonjun said, waving his arms excitedly. “we’re planning to make a scrapbook together, and i’m going to put glitter on everything. glitter explosion!”

“yeonjun,” soobin grumbled from the floor, “we’re tired. save the stories for later.”

“fine, fine,” yeonjun said with a dramatic sigh, finally noticing the exhaustion in his friends’ voices. “but you guys are going to love the next date. it’s going to be legendary.”

one evening, yeonjun decided that you both needed a “romantic” movie night. his idea of romance, however, involved setting up an elaborate indoor “cinema” with fairy lights, bean bags, and a selection of snacks that could rival a small buffet. he even made you wear matching pajamas—complete with cartoon characters.

“it’s all about the experience,” yeonjun said, adjusting the lights with an overly serious expression. “you can’t have a romantic movie night without proper ambiance.”

“you know,” you said, looking around at the whimsical setup, “this is actually kind of cute. but don’t think you can get away with making me wear these ridiculous pajamas all the time.”

“hey, don’t knock the pajamas until you’ve experienced the full cozy effect,” yeonjun said, tossing you a bag of popcorn. “plus, it’s for a good cause—our future movie nights together.” smiling sweetly at you.

the movie night itself was a comedy of errors. yeonjun spent more time trying to fix the projector than actually watching the movie, and you both ended up in fits of laughter over his failed attempts to mimic romantic movie lines. at one point, yeonjun dramatically declared, “you had me at hello,” before tripping over the bean bag and crashing into a pile of pillows.

“romance is clearly not your strong suit,” you teased, helping him up.

“hey, I’m working on it,” yeonjun said, brushing himself off with a grin. “next time, i promise a movie night with less physical comedy and more actual romance.”

the following weekend, yeonjun took you to a local farmer’s market. it was a simple date, but one that turned into a playful adventure as you navigated the stalls, sampling everything from artisanal cheeses to homemade jams. yeonjun insisted on buying you a “mystery fruit” he claimed was the “best thing ever.”

“i’m telling you, it’s going to be life-changing,” yeonjun said, holding up a spiky, oddly shaped fruit with a look of triumph.

“it looks like something from an alien planet,” you said, eyeing it warily. “but if you say so.”

the mystery fruit turned out to be surprisingly delicious, and the experience left you both in high spirits. you ended up buying a basket of fresh produce, and yeonjun’s enthusiasm for the “find” made the outing memorable.

“we should definitely do this again,” yeonjun said as you walked back to the car, his cheeks flushed from the sun and excitement.

“i’ll hold you to that,” you said, smiling.

as the weeks went by, yeonjun’s courtship efforts continued to be a mix of grand and simple gestures. he surprised you with handwritten letters, silly serenades, and spontaneous dance parties in the living room. his attempts at poetry were endearing, if not always successful, but you appreciated the effort behind each one.

the culmination of yeonjun’s courtship efforts came on a quiet evening when you both decided to work on a scrapbook together. yeonjun had been relentless about starting the project, claiming it was the perfect way to document your journey together. you reluctantly agreed, and soon found yourself surrounded by colorful papers, stickers, and glitter.

yeonjun was deeply focused on arranging photos and decorations, his brows furrowed in concentration as he pouted his lips in a way that made him look more like a kid than a confident courtier.

“hey,” you said, unable to resist the adorable sight, “you look really cute right now.”

yeonjun glanced up, caught off guard by your compliment. “cute? i’m working hard here, you know.”

“i know,” you said, leaning closer and feeling a sudden impulse. you reached out and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, your lips brushing against his skin.

“hey! you can’t kiss me, i’m not your boyfriend,” yeonjun said, his voice a mix of surprise and mock indignation as he covered his face with his hands.

“then be,” you said, smiling as you wiped a stray piece of glitter from his cheek.

“then be? then be?! what the hell?!” yeonjun shouted, his face turning a shade redder.

“can you please act normal for once?” you asked, trying to hide your amusement.

“are you?” yeonjun said, peeking out from behind his hands with a faux serious expression. “because right now, you’re acting like you just walked out of a rom-com.”

“i figure we are going there soon, so might as well make it official now,” you said, biting your lower lip as you hide your smile.

“so... you? and me?” yeonjun said, exaggeratingly pointing to you and him while making a heart shape with his hands.

“you know,” you said, tapping the scrapbook page with your finger for emphasis. “ask me to be your girlfriend. stop dancing around it and just say it.”

yeonjun’s face turned a deep shade of red, and he looked away, pretending to be very interested in a piece of glitter stuck to his hand. “are you sure you want that?” he asked, his voice slightly muffled as he avoided eye contact.

“yeonjun,” you said, reaching out to gently turn his face towards you. “it’s ridiculous to keep pretending like you don’t want to be with me. you’ve already shown me how much you care.”

“well,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “if you’re really sure about this, then...”

“yes,” you said, smiling warmly. “i’m sure.”

yeonjun’s expression shifted from nervousness to a wide, goofy grin. “okay then,” he said, leaning in with exaggerated seriousness. “will you be my girlfriend?”

you laughed, shaking your head at his over-the-top delivery. “yes, yeonjun,” you said, reaching out to tap him on the nose. “i will.”

“thank goodness,” he said with a sigh of relief, playfully collapsing onto the table as if he’d just won a great battle. “i was starting to think I’d have to spend the rest of my life trying to win you over. anyway, can you say it again?” he added putting his hand into a heart.

“you are so corny, i hate you,” you said, rolling your eyes. you leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the lips before adding, “you heard me.”

yeonjun’s eyes widened, and he lowered his head, covering his mouth as if he’d just had his first kiss stolen. “i hate you so much!” he said, his irritation tinged with a hint of affection as he tried to maintain his pout.

as you both sat there, surrounded by scraps of paper and glitter, you realized that yeonjun’s courtship had turned into something truly special. it wasn’t about grand gestures or elaborate plans; it was the simple, everyday moments that made it all the more memorable. "yeonjun," you called softly, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you.

"hmm?" he replied, not taking his gaze off the scrapbook page he was working on. his concentration was almost endearing, his brow furrowed as he meticulously placed another sticker.

"thank you," you said, your voice sincere and filled with warmth.

yeonjun finally looked up, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of surprise and curiosity. “for what?” he asked, setting down the glue stick and wiping his hands on a napkin.

“for everything,” you said, gesturing to the scattered scraps of paper and glitter that surrounded you both. “for all the effort you put into making this special, for being so... you.”

his cheeks flushed slightly, and he gave you a shy, almost sheepish smile. “well, i guess i can’t take all the credit,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “you make it easy to want to do these things.”

“that’s really sweet,” you said, leaning over to give him a gentle kiss on the cheek. “i’m glad you’re the one doing this with me.”

yeonjun’s eyes widened, and he looked away, pretending to be intensely interested in a stray piece of glitter on the table. “uh, it’s nothing,” he muttered, trying to hide his blush. “just... don’t expect me to start being all mushy every time.”

“don’t worry,” you said, chuckling softly. “i’ll make sure to keep you on your toes.” you said as you watch him trying his best to focus on what he’s working on as he fights the urge to scream at how happy he is at this moment.

yeonjun leaned back in his chair, a nostalgic grin spreading across his face as he reminisced with his friends. they were gathered in the homecoming hall, a place filled with echoes of their past, and the atmosphere was brimming with laughter and memories.

“honestly,” yeonjun began, looking at the five guys sitting around him, “it’s kind of hilarious to think back on that time i was crying over her rejection, when in the end i ended up having her.”

the others chuckled, their laughter mingling with the soft clinking of glasses and the hum of the crowd. “yeah, i remember,” beomgyu said, a smirk tugging at his lips. “you were a mess and all, with you endless love theories.”

taehyun raised an eyebrow, “and now you’re here, about to get married. who knew?”

yeonjun shook his head, still grinning. “i know, right? all those dramatic moments and tears, and here we are. i didn’t just win her over to be my girlfriend. no, we’re engaged now.”

he looked up as you walked into the room, calling out to him with a bright smile. “hon!”

the room fell silent, and yeonjun’s gaze softened as he saw you approach. you greeted him with a soft kiss on the cheek, and he could feel the warmth of your love. “hey,” he said, his voice full of affection. “have you talk to them already?” yeonjun asks before planting soft kiss on your cheeks.

“guys, gross. please stop,” beomgyu said, rolling his eyes.

“as if you weren’t the literally on everyone’s lips during college, dude,” taehyun remarked, a playful grin on his face.

beomgyu laughed, shaking his head. “can you please stop reminding me of my youth?”

“they’re still the same,” you whispered to yeonjun, a teasing smile on your lips. “so are we.”

yeonjun leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your bare shoulder. “i wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“get a room,” hueningkai interjected with a grin, shaking his head at the display of affection.

you laughed, your heart full of joy as you turned to soobin. “where is she?” you asked, your curiosity evident.

soobin’s smile grew, his eyes reflecting a fondness that spoke of countless shared memories. “she’s just finishing up in the restroom. she’ll be here soon.” his gaze softened as he remembered how this had always been your way of asking about his girlfriend during college. the smile on his face hinted at the significant moments they’d shared—the moments that had changed everything for him.

“soobinie~” a sweet voice called out. soobin turned, his face lighting up as he met the gaze that had once captured his heart during those college days.

gyo's note: finally! a full of fluff yeonjun one !! phew ˖⁺‧₊˚ ૮꒰ˊᗜˋ* ꒱ა i figured yeonjun def suits this kind of trope, i just see him as a dude who would be literally head over heels when he likes someone !! and i vv much loved writing this because it makes me feel like rewatching my favorite filipino romcoms from when i was a kid !! (づᴗ _ᴗ)づ♡ anyway, feel free to talk to me and request! i will have my first request posted on thursday, yayyyy ✧｡٩(ˊᗜˋ )و✧*｡

✮ 2024 gyorouis, all rights reserved.

[bkglovergirl]

♡𓂃Fake it till you make it

Bakugou X Reader

𓏲 Taking Todoroki's advice, you finally confront Bakugou, and it works! Now you and Todoroki are closer than ever, and you make some progress with Bakugou.

Word Count; 2.3k

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

It’s morning—about 5 a.m., to be exact. Is this a normal time you wake up? Most of the time. You're in the kitchen cooking yourself breakfast, and it's quite more than you normally eat, but you didn't go to bed with dinner last night. Humming a small tune, you take some milk out of the fridge, and you can’t help but be surprised by how well-stalked the house is. You make a mental note to thank whoever paid to get everything filled because God knows you wouldn't have. Being so distracted, you don't notice the sound of your new roommate leaving his room, and it takes you even longer for you to notice him standing at the entrance of the kitchen watching you. “Did you make me any?” being surprised, you accidentally touched the hot pan, completely missing the handle.

“Ow!” you hiss turning to Bakugou, “Alright asshole don’t sneak up on me like that! And no I didn't make you any, why the hell would I?!” You notice Bakugous eyes trail down your body and with that, you look down yourself. Your pink lace nightgown. It is your normal clothing but couldn't you have changed before you went around the dorm?! It's showing off your legs and thighs and that's more than anyone has seen of you. You blush looking back at Bakugou, “Hello earth to Bakugou?!” his attention is back on your face and he walks towards you.

“Well, aren't you my wife now? You are supposed to make me breakfast.”

“You said you didn't wanna wife as I recall.” Bakugou takes your hand and turns on the sink faucet moving your hand to be under the cool water. Being close to him you now notice his lack of shirt. You turn your face away thinking that the stove is much nicer to look at. Your scoreboard goes back to zero but neither of you notice.

“If it gets me breakfast that I don’t have to make, I’ll give you the title for an hour.” His voice is low. With how early it is and him just waking up, it’s much nicer than his day voice and his ear-bleeding yelling.

“Well, I didn't make you shit.” with that, you move your hand away from him and Bakugou shuts off the faucet.

“I'm the one who bought all the food, so I should at least get breakfast!” He raises his voice a little. It's possible that it's too early for even him to yell. “And there is no first aid here, so you need to deal with that at the nurse.” Bakugou makes a mental note to buy a first aid kit, as he's come to the conclusion that you are very clumsy even now.

“You bought the food?” You turn the stone off so as to not burn the eggs.

“Yeah? Did you think it just appeared?!”

“No, I thought the school board got some staff to do it!?! I don't know!!” Bakugou laughs at you as you grab two plates. Grabbing them, your nightgown goes up, and Bakugou takes no time to notice and stare. You evenly distribute the food you made. Sadly, you won't get any extra food to make up for the missed dinner, and you guess that even if you tell Bakuugou, he selfishly won’t care. “Here, this is the last time I make you anything.” you move past him and sit on the couch. He follows after sitting next to you with some distance. Bakugou won’t admit it but the food is actually pretty good. “So why are you up so early? I thought Mr oh great Bakugou had a tight sleep schedule.”

“I do and this is part of it.”

“You are such a grandpa and it’s embarrassing!” You laugh at him obnoxiously and he makes a face at you clearly annoyed but why should you care? 

“DON’T CALL ME A GRANPA BITCH! YOU ARE UP TO!” and with that you can’t help but fall on your back in a fit of laughter, your feet hitting Bakugou's leg and kicking him but he pretends to not notice and chooses to not mention it.

“I can’t believe you are getting so mad at that! Yeah, I’m up but I’m normal and have a pretty messed up sleep schedule! You are just so weird!” You take some deep breaths and look at Bakugou. You blush. With how you are lying your nightgown has risen a bit and your body is turned looking at you. There is this look on his face you've never seen before and again your scoreboard goes up but both are you are too distracted to even notice any slight change. You sit up fix yourself and continue eating.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

“I don’t even know, Not even five minutes into being in the room with him we got down to negative points! Like that has to be marked down as the fastest bullshit in history!” you sit on Todoroki's desk whining.

“Are you fully surprised Y/N?”

“Not totally but with how competitive he is you'd think he’d wanna fake it.”

“Maybe use that to your advantage.” With that, it’s like a lightbulb goes off into your head and you hug Todoroki.

“You are a genius!”

“Icyhot is not a genius; he’s dumber than most!” Bakugou walked in, and for some reason, seeing you hug Todoroki gave him issues. It didn't help that Todoroki had a small smile on his face. 

“Everyone is a bigger genius than you!”

“You bitch!”

“Alright class settle down.” Aizawa walks in looking very much unimpressed. You quickly run up to Aizawa asking if you could speak to him outside and he agrees. As you both walk out Ida is yelling trying to get the class in order.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

Aizawa questioned you a bit but eventually agreed. Now, Bakugou and you are both sitting out completely while the rest of the class gets to do hero training. Did you think this fully ahead? No, because now you are sitting out. You had told Aizawa that as punishment for getting to the negatives you and Bakugou should sit out. He went on his phone with a confused face showing you and Bakugous's score showing a one. Even though it's low it doesn't qualify for a punishment yet but you pushed on explaining yourself. He agreed and here you are now with Bakugou in the viewing room all by yourselves. You are both facing the big screen TV showing the battle happening between Deku, Mina, shoji, and Kirishima VS. Uraraka, Todoroki, Sero, and Momo. To say Bakugou is fuming is an understatement, he's grumbling, sometimes yelling and hitting things. You finally zone into what he’s saying. “THIS IS FUCKING STUPID! All because we got negative points?!” He kicks an office chair that’s nearby with all his might, and all that chair does is slowly roll away. You can't help but laugh. “ARE YOU LAUGHING AT ME?!”

“Yeah, I am! You got two personalities a big grandpa and a big baby!” you are slightly in tears, “Even with all your might you moved the chair just by an itch!” 

“STOP LAUGHING AT ME!” His hands spark.

“Nope! This is pure gold, screw watching the battle!” Bakugou walks up sitting next to you and puts his hand over your mouth, before you can make a comment about how gross his hand is he speaks before you.

“You speak or laugh at me I’ll blow your face off!” On the bright side, he's quiet. On the bad side, his hand is on your face and he’s basically threatening to kill you. You huff and cross your arm thinking about how stupid this is. It gets a little too quiet for comfort and you register his hand, it’s warm on your face but not in a bad way and you can't help but blush. It feels nice on your lips. Bakugous yells something at the screen and it snaps you out of your trance and you take this as a moment to lick the balm of his hand. “HUH?!” you move away from him grabbing the office chair and using it to shield yourself.

“Hear me out!” Bakugou glares wiping his hand on the couch. 

“That was disgusting. You got five seconds before you are dead.”

“Now that is not enough time.” Bakugou deadpans at you, holding up five fingers and putting down one. “ALRIGHT! Alright.. Look we aren't doing anything but making it worse for ourselves.” Bakugou puts down another finger. “Think of this as another competition, Against Midoriya!” you put to the TV screen and bakugou puts down another finger. “The sooner we get better points the faster we can switch partners and the faster you can beat and be better at this than the whole school!” Bakugou puts down another finger. “I know you don’t like me but come on! We can fake it until we make it! You win and show you are better than everyone else and on top of that you can get rid of me!” Bakugou puts down his last finger. “You can take your fingers and shove them up your ass!” you yell sitting on the chair facing away from bakugou. You really thought this would work. Being in your own head you don’t notice Bakugou walking up to you having a small smile on his face but as soon as he grabs the chair and turns you around to face him the smile is gone. 

“Alright fine. I’ll go along with it but we gotta lay down some ground rules.” You smile up at him. 

“Fine by me!” 

“One, do not get in between me and my training work. I don’t care if something will give us points. If it gets in the way of me being a hero, you can cry about it, but I won’t do it. Two, do not get in between my schedule. I won’t make time for you and fit you in. If anything gets in the way of my sleep I don’t care you can fuck off! And Three, we are not going on a first-name basis. I don’t care enough.” Bakugou lets go of the chair and stands up straight crossing his arms.

“Okay!” You stand up and look at the TV. The battle has ended, and Midoriya’s team has won.

“Don’t you have any ground rules?” you smile as Bakugou is trying to be considerate.

 “Nope! I’m not a stingy bitch like you are!” You grab your bag and run out of the viewing room.

“HEY!!??”

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

“I could have done so much better..” Todoroki mumbles as you wipe his forehead with a cotton swab. The both of you sitting in the nurse's room by yourselves.

“You don’t need to be quiet; it’s just us.” You throw the cotton swab away and grab an alcohol wipe. “You did great, Todoroki. Focus on what you need to improve on, not so much on the battle itself.” It’s hard to give good advice when you weren't exactly watching the battle.

“Hm..” Todoroki looks at you then your hand and grabs it stopping you from touching the wound. “You can call me Shoto.” You smile.

“Alright, Shoto.”

“The fuck you two doing in here?” You look at Bakugou and groan.

“None of your business. What are you doing in here?!”

“Don’t question me after my question!” Shoto let’s go of your hand, a small signal to go back to cleaning him up.

“Y/N is helping me.” Your hand skips a beat and you blush not expecting to hear your name. Bakugou notices and the annoying itch he felt when he saw you on Todoroki’s desk earlier is back and he does not enjoy it.

“Can’t you do that shit yourself.”

“I could.” That’s all Shoto says before turning his attention back to you. Bakugou grumbles, walks over to the first aid kits, and grabs one. Walking back out the door with it, he makes it known how annoyed he is. “Did my suggestion work?”

“Yes! Perfectly to. Though he did lay down some ground rules.”

“He’s such a snob.”

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

You walk into the dorm taking off your shoes and placing your school bag on the door hanger. Walking into the kitchen you notice the first aid kit on top of the fridge and smile. You quickly get to work and start cooking dinner. There is a feeling in your stomach. You know it's hungry but there is something else. You can’t help but overthink the simple gesture. Time passes of cooking and overthinking and dinner is done. You leave Bakugou’s plate on the kitchen counter and start eating yours on the couch watching TV and skimming through the channels. As soon as you take the first bite as in right on cue Bakugou walks right through the door. “Your dinner is on the counter.” 

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” Bakugou grabs his plate and sits next to you, keeping the same distance as this morning. Annoyed you move the remote away from him. “What the hell!?”

“No thanks. No control of the TV remote.” 

“..Thanks for the food.” you look at bakugou and smile.

“You're welcome!” The scoreboard goes up showing two points.

“NOW GIVE ME THE REMOTE!” Your smile fades as quickly as it appears and you throw it at him.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

Bakugou stands up putting his bowl on the table. “Alright, I’m going to bed.”

“Finally!” you reach over quickly grabbing the remote, “The remote and TV is mine!”

“you aren’t going to bed?”

“Nope! A new horror movie came out and I wanna watch it! Oh, but the dishes... I'll do it after.” you quickly went from talking to bakugou to talking to yourself. Bakugou rolls his eyes grumbling some insults at you before walking to his door. He takes a quick glance at you. Your hair is messy and you are lying down on your side. The light of the TV illuminating your face. He debates staying out and watching the movie with you telling himself he is just curious about the movie. But he reminds himself about his second rule and he walks into his room.

Tags and notes;

Thank you so much for the support already! This is my first ever story, and I hope to go further with it. I'll update as much as I can and do more stories so let me know If you have any requests!

@andysdrafts @eyesforbkg

[daydreaming-nerd]

Young Love and Old Money (Cassian x Female! Reader) Part 2

Young Love and Old Money Masterlist

AN: My toxic trait is that I'll read Eris fanfic all day and swoon but the second I work on this series I tear him to absolute filth.

Summary: She was the most beautiful woman in Prythian, sister to the High Lord of Night, and now she is the soon-to-be wife of Eris Vanserra. Despite her many titles and her aura of unattainability, Cassian can't help but fall deeply in love with the princess of the Night Court. But will it be enough to stop her impending wedding to a man who is sure to destroy her from the inside out?

Warnings: Sexisim, trauma from under the mountain, alcohol, Eris' hounds

Word Count: 3,754

The next few days fly by faster than expected and before I know it, I’m walking from my room to the foyer of The House of Wind. I don’t miss my reflection in the passing windows. Once again I had been poked, prodded and primped to perfection. My dress hugged my every curve, not that Eris needed an excuse to use his imagination more than he already was. 

I step into the foyer and find Cassian there with his back turned to me. He hears the clacking of my shoes on the marble floors and turns around, the familiar red glow of his siphons both easing the and aiding my rapid heartbeat. 

“What do you think? Do I look ‘wall ornament-y’ enough?” I laugh trying to hide my pain. 

“No you don’t, you look like a princess.” Cassian laughs but I can hear the hesitancy in his compliment.  

“Thank you,” I smile, ducking my head. “Is it just you and I today?” I ask, looking for a sign of my brother or Azriel. 

“Actually it’ll be just us from now on. Rhys has assigned me to take you back and forth from the Autumn Court for the duration of your courtship.” Cassian says with a hint of annoyance. 

“Oh I’m sorry, that seems a little below your pay grade.” I mutter as my cheeks burn with embarrassment. Cassian was The Lord of Bloodshed, not some personal bodyguard of mine. 

“Don’t be, I could use some easy work,” he assures me. “Ready?” 

“I guess so,” I reply, walking over to him so he can pick me up. Within an instant we’re airborne and I try to hold on to the sense of freedom that flying gives me before I feel suffocated under Eris’ gaze. 

The first few minutes of flying neither of us speak. I can hardly think of anything besides the way his arms feel around me, and I almost wish he had the power to winnow like Azriel did to keep my mind from wandering towards places it shouldn’t. 

“I hope you know I didn’t mean what I said the other day. You know, about you being a wall ornament. I was just trying to see Eris squirm.” Cassian confessed and I can tell by the tone of his voice that the subject had been plaguing him for a while. 

“Don’t worry I rather enjoyed his squirming,” I laugh recalling the way Eris’ jaw ticked from Cassian’s sarcasm. 

“Then I’ll be sure to do it more often,” he said with that knee weakening smile. 

It wasn’t long until we reached the Autumn Court and from where Cassian meant to touch down I could see Eris’ fiery hair waiting for me. The second my feet touched the ground Eris was reaching out for my hand. 

“You look ravishing my dear,” he said, placing a kiss to the top of my hand. 

“You as well prince Eris,” I smile as he loops his arm through mine, leading me up the front steps of the palace. 

“I see you brought your bastard dog with you again,” Eris chided, throwing a glance over his shoulder to where Cassian followed us. 

“Don’t worry he’s potty trained, I even taught him to sit and stay,” I quip back as Eris leads me through the doors. I glance back at Cassian to give him an apologetic expression.

Eris lets out a hearty chuckle and I think it’s the first time that I’ve heard him laugh, “My dear you do have quite the sharp mind,” he says. 

I glance up at the ornate ceilings above the foyer,“This place is huge, how many rooms?” I ask Eris, trying to change the subject.  

“More than I’ve ever bothered to try and count, perhaps you can count with me today? I had hoped to take you on a little tour,” Eris answers, leading me down the hall.

Thick, lush garnet colored fabric covers the floors as ornate gold detailing lines the walls. The flames from the many chandeliers cast a warm light through the hall, and the colors of the Autumn trees can be seen through all the multi paned windows. I wanted to love this place, I wanted it to feel like home. Maybe it would have if Eris wasn’t such a viper. 

We spent at least an hour wandering the halls of the palace, Cassian never farther than twenty feet from us. I was surprised to see that the place was near empty. My mind began to wander, was the place vacant because few people lived here? Or was it vacant because even the staff fears Eris? I suppressed the shiver that went down my back as I tried to turn my mind to other matters. 

“I have something I wish to show you,” Eris says as he leads me outside. 

The brisk air fans my face offering a breath of fresh air that I so desperately needed. His grip on me tightened as we approached a familiar looking barn. It didn’t take me long to realize that it was the same barn he had shown me earlier this week, the one where he kept his hounds. 

We walk in through the wooden door and I’m greeted with the sight of at least a dozen kennels of dogs, all of them barking so loud my ears nearly rang at the sound. All of them, white, black and brown. As we made our way toward the back of the barn my gaze locked on a much smaller kennel where a litter of puppies played.  

“Oh prince Eris! They’re so cute!” I cried watching them wrestle around with one another. 

“I thought you might like them,” he smirked, leaning down to pluck one from the litter, placing it into my arms. The little puppy wiggled around licking my face, earning a giggle from me. 

“What’s this one's name?” I ask, holding the puppy close. 

“That one won’t get a name,” he answers, watching me and the pup intently. 

“Why not?” I inquire, puzzled as to why such a sweet thing wouldn’t have a name. 

“Because she’s a female and we don’t keep the females. They cost more to feed and keep than their worth.” He explains, like it’s common knowledge. 

“But then how do you breed more?” I ask, holding the puppy even closer to my chest upon hearing its fate.

“She’s our breeder, and she has been for a couple of years now,” Eris replies, pointing to a fearful looking dog in the back corner of the kennel. “She always bears the strongest and healthiest pups, and most of them are male which is always advantageous.” 

My stomach drops at Eris’ words. “Then why do you keep the female puppies alive for so long?” I ask, not sure I really wanted to know the answer. 

Eris takes the puppy from my hands and puts it back in the pen where it begins to play with the others,  “Because if we kill them right after their birth the mother gets lethargic and she refuses to nurse the males. We lost a whole litter once doing that.”  he says once more, circling a hand around my waist. 

My heart shatters at the realization of the poor puppy’s fate. “Oh,” I say in defeat, all thoughts from my head dissipating as I stare at the mother. 

“I’m afraid we can’t all be pretty things for future High Lords to enjoy,” Eris smirks, nuzzling my  neck. “Come, I have one last thing to show you before you leave.” 

I nod, following Eris out of the barn, but I don’t leave without one last look at the mother dog in the back kennel. For a second I swear her eyes meet mine and there’s an understanding that we will both share the same fate, breeding vessels for higher powers. 

We walk down along the river until we come across a large weeping willow. It appeared to have been there for years as its branches and yellow leaves cascaded down creating a large curtain around it. We had them all over the Sidra of the Night Court, but I had never seen one bear the colors of fall. 

“That’s far enough bastard,” Eris curses at Cassian as he pushes back the leafy curtain to allow me in. I try to throw Cassian a fearful look but Eris closes the foliage curtain behind him before I get the chance.  

I look up at the branches of the willow, doing my best to avoid Eris’ hungry gaze. The leaves are beautiful as the light of the setting sun shines through them, the slight breeze and the sound of the river flowing next to us made this place its own world. 

“I can see why your family chose to keep you locked up for all those years,” Eris chimes, taking a step towards me. 

“And why is that?” I say retreating a step, trying to keep my gaze on my surroundings. 

“Because every legend I ever heard about your beauty is true,” he smirks, taking another step towards me. 

My heart rate quickens and my palms go clammy as I take another step back, “and what do they say about me?” I ask, as if I don’t already know. 

Eris chuckles, seemingly happy to recite the prose to me, “Eyes like a storm,” he starts taking another step closer to me. 

I feel my bare back hit the bark of the willow and I realize that he has me pinned. He has been hunting me like prey this whole time and I was stupid enough to fall into the trap. 

“Hair like threads of silk,” he continued, brushing a hand through my hair. “And skin as soft as rose petals,” he smiles, caressing my cheek. “The Jewel of Prythian and the weakness of every male.”

Eris’ breath fans my cheek as I feel his body press me into the willow tree, “It seems I have a lot to live up to,” I breathe, trying to keep my voice from quivering. 

“Hardly.” he says, brushing a stray hair from my cheek. “You’re already the greatest temptation I’ve ever known and I think I’m tired of restraining myself from you.” he growls. 

I don’t have a moment to think before his lips are smashing onto mine. My back scrapes against the bark and I know that there will be an angry red mark there when I free myself from Eris’ grasp. His tongue slides into my mouth and I feel my stomach burn. His lips taste vile, like they weren’t made for me, but he seems to be enjoying himself just fine. His hands wander my waist possessively, like I’m nothing more than an object for him to indulge in, though I suppose that’s exactly how he saw me. 

Like a saving grace from above, the large bell atop the castle rang out, signaling that it was 7 o’clock, time for me to leave. I manage to push Eris off of me just enough for me to get a word in. 

“Prince Eris, it's 7, my brother wants me home,” I say, placing my hands on his chest. My head casts down to where they spread over the expensive fabric of his shirt, the patterns being the only thing keeping me grounded. 

“So punctual,” he tuts. “A frustrating quality now, but if things go well for us you’ll make quite the obedient little wife won’t you?” he smirks forcing my chin up so I can meet his domineering gaze.

“Yes of course my prince,” I say timidly. 

“Good girl,” he praised, turning my chin to the side. The second the seventh bell chimes, a hand pushes aside the curtain of leaves and I’m relieved at the sight of Cassian. 

“Princess it’s time to go,” he says urgently, the voice of a general making an appearance. 

“You’re right,” I nod, trying not to look shell shocked. “Until next time Prince Eris,” I say as Eris kisses my hand. 

“Until then my little flame,” he smiles. 

I step out of the cover of the willow tree and Cassian wastes no time picking me up and shooting into the sky. I immediately feel better the second the wind whips my hair back and I can let go of the breath that I’m holding. 

“Do you want me to take you to Rhys?” Cassian asks. 

“No, just take me home please,” I reply, trying to hold back my tears.

As if he can sense my eagerness to feel safe in my own home he flaps his wings harder. We spend the entire flight in silence as I try to forget about the taste of Eris on my tongue but it’s impossible. The entire time we’re in the air I’m unable to think of freedom like I normally do. All I can feel is Eris' brand on me, and the second we touch down on the balcony of the House of Wind I feel every emotion I have come to the surface.

“Thank you for the ride,” I say to Cassian. My voice breaks as I turn from his gaze and make my way inside. 

“Princess wait!” Cassian calls for me but I don’t turn around, whatever he has to say can wait. 

I make a beeline for the kitchen. My tears are falling faster than ever and all I can think is, get his taste out of my mouth, get his taste out of my mouth, get his taste out of my mouth.  I waltz over to the liquor cabinet and pull out the first bottle of whiskey I see. It spills a little as I frantically pour it into a glass and shoot it down my throat, the burn washing away any trace of Eris. 

“Hey are you okay?” a voice drawls from behind me and I turn to see Cassian in the doorway.

“I’m practically engaged to a monster of course I’m not okay!” I cry shooting down another gulp of whiskey. 

“Hey, hey hey,” Cassian coos, crossing the room to take the glass and the bottle from my hand. “It’s okay just breathe.” he says, pulling me into him. 

The gesture makes me let go of all my inhibitions as I sob violently into his chest. I can barely breathe through my shallow breaths. I feel Cassian stroke a hand through my hair. 

“H-how could s-someone be so terrible?” I sob through my ragged breaths. “Those poor puppies, and their mother? The way he t-touches me? A-and the way he speaks to you? I hate him.” 

“Hey don’t worry about me okay? I can take it.” Cassian assures me. “Just take a deep breath for me alright?” 

I listen to him and take a long deep breath, the smell of cedar and leather filling my senses calming me down instantly. He instructs me to take another one and I do, this time the heat of the whiskey warming my stomach helps calm me down. 

Once I finally  have my breathing under control he bends down to look at me, “Now, if we’re going to be drinking whiskey we might as well drink Rhys’ good stuff,” he smiles and for the first time that day I laugh.

“I suppose so,” I chuckle, wiping my tears away. 

“That’s the spirit,” Cassian beams as he reaches for the large bottle at the top of the cabinet. He grabs two more glasses and takes them over to the living room. 

I follow him and plunk myself down on the couch across from him. He pours us each a glass and raises his own in a toast. 

“To old dogs that can learn new tricks,” he laughs referring to the comments made earlier today about him. 

I roll my eyes playfully clinking my glass to his and taking a sip, “I’m sorry about that, Eris really is the worst,” I say. 

“Then why are you looking to marry him? You know if you went and talked to Rhys right now that he wouldn’t make you do this.” Cassian asks, taking a sip. 

I let out a long sigh while swirling the whiskey around my glass,  “Because he sacrificed a lot for me under the mountain, I should repay the favor. Besides, he’s right. War is coming and if this is the only thing I can do to keep Velaris safe, and to keep you and Azriel safe then I want to do it.” I explain to him. 

“You don’t have to worry about me and Azriel princess, it’s our job to keep you safe,” Cassian says leaning forward, setting his glass on the coffee table. 

“I know, I know. You’re big tough Illyrians.” I roll my eyes. “But this is my duty, it’s what my father and mother wanted, it’s what I was made for. I don’t have earth shattering powers like my brother, or siphons and wings like you and Az. This is what I’m good for, and if it keeps my people safe then I’ll show up to woo Eris every single day with a smile on my face.” I say. 

There’s a sadness in Cassian’s eyes and I can tell he wants to argue against me but he doesn’t, “You’re braver than most of the Illyrians I know. I think you could give Devlon a run for his money,” he says with sincerity, taking a swig from his drink. 

“That might be a bit of an overstatement, though I bet with the right motives I could take him down,” I jest, sipping my drink. 

“Now that’s something I would pay to see,” Cassian laughs. A moment of silence ensues before Cassian takes a gold mark out of his back pocket and twirls it in his fingers, “Have you ever played Marks?” he grins. 

About an hour passes by and I’m thoroughly engaged in the game Cassian calls Marks. Apparently it’s a game he had been playing with Rhys and Azriel for years. The concept is simple, we both bounce gold marks off the table and try to land them in the glass in front of us. If I make it in the glass before he does, he has to drink and vice versa. 

As simple as the game was, I couldn't lie that I was having fun. More fun than I have had in years. Turns out I was much better at Marks than Cassian had anticipated and throughout the hour I had him drinking like a fish.  

That’s how Azriel found us, in a room filled with the sound of metal clattering against wood and laughter ringing out from both Cassian and I. 

“Cassian, did you teach her how to play marks?” Azriel mused leaning over the couch next to me to watch.  

“I did and it turns out she’s pretty damn good! I think the princess might be able to school you Az.” Cassian taunts. 

I hear Azriel scoff beside me, “Oh please, move over and let me show you how it’s done.” he says sitting next to Cassian and picking up a gold mark. I don’t even have a chance to bounce mine before Azirel’s drops into the glass. 

“Damn that was good,” I smile downing the last of my drink. 

“Don’t worry princess, I'm sure you’ll be as good as me one day,” Azriel boasts proudly leaning back into the couch. 

“Whatever Az,” I laugh standing up. “Well I think I’ve had enough to drink for one night. Goodnight you two.” I smile walking down the hall towards my room. I hear Cassian and Azriel bid me goodnight and for the first time in a long time, I go to bed with a smile on my face. 

Cassian 

  A pretty little wall ornament for a future High Lord, just like you are…

You will bear me a son…

You’re already the greatest temptation I’ve ever known and I think I’m tired of restraining myself from you…

You’ll make quite the obedient little wife won’t you?

The things Eris’ said to y/n replay over and over again in my head causing my blood to boil. If it wouldn’t start an all out war I would out his head on a fucking pike and feed the rest of him to his hounds. I can’t stop replaying y/n’s face as she looked at the mother dog. It was clear that she knew that her fate would be the same as the animal. I was so blinded with rage I didn’t dodge Azriel’s punch fast enough feeling his fist connect with the side of my head. 

“You’re off your game today brother. Any particular reason why?” Azriel taunts me from across the sparring ring. I didn’t want to admit he was right, but it was obvious my mind was clearly occupied today. 

“I’m fine, I just didn’t sleep last night,” I told him, not entirely a lie. Azriel squares up again and I take my stance.  

“You sure it doesn’t have anything to do with a certain princess you were sharing drinks with last night?” Azriel teases throwing a punch. I dodge it and throw my whole body into my next punch hating how he teases me about y/n. He dodges it and goes for the low blow knocking me down. 

“I can assure you it has nothing to do with her,” I say from where I’m lying on the mat.

Azriel moves to unwrap his hands, seemingly calling it a day for the sparring ring. “Oh c’mon Cass, you’ve been pining for her for years.” he said, reaching out a hand to help me up which I took. “You need to tell her or you’re going to lose her forever.”

“I can’t. I won’t put her in an awkward situation like that, she already has enough on her plate.” I sigh, taking my own wraps off. “Besides she could never love someone like me, she’s a princess and ‘The Jewel of Prythian’ remember? Not to mention Rhys’ little sister. I’m nothing but a bastard born brute.”

“You really think she cares about something like that?” Azriel asks, wiping his face with a towel. 

“I don’t have the guts to find out,” I answered sitting down next to him. 

“Well if you’re looking for advice-” 

“Which I’m not,” I cut Az off. 

“But if you were,” he says, clapping a hand on my back. “I would tell her soon. Because if Eris decides that she’s worthy of bearing his sons he’s going to destroy her from the inside out.”

Part 3

Taglist: @crystalferret202 , @nickishadow139 ,  @graceshifts , @writeroutoftime , @heyyitsnat21,

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Bestie your slut is immaculate 🤌🏻. Would you maybe be able to write a makeup sex scenario with Steve???? I’d give everything for that

18+

Honestly, you couldn’t remember what you and Steve had been arguing about. You don’t recall how it had started, or how it had even ended, just that you were pouting in the kitchen whilst the boy was stomping about upstairs.

You think it had been something to do with his late shifts, your early mornings, ships passing in the night, gone before he woke up, asleep before he got home. You’d missed him. He’d missed you. But communicating that got lost in the stress of a burnt dinner and a laundry load of whites that got mixed in with one of Steve’s green socks and suddenly everything was turquoise, smoke filled the kitchen and you were both yelling.

It ended abruptly, sharply and with a slammed door. You weren’t sure who’d done it, but maybe, you thought with a scrunch of your nose, it had been you. Guilt ate at your stomach, turned over in your tummy like acid and suddenly you missed Steve more than ever. You hadn’t even gotten a kiss hello from him before the argument erupted.

So you trailed up the stairs, stepping lightly so you could hear the soft grumbles from behind the closed bedroom door, and when you opened it, you softened completely. Steve was folding laundry on the bed, as neatly as he could, brow furrowed and cheeks still flushed.

His eyes snapped to you, that knot between his brows soothing away when he saw the downturn of your lips, the glassy sheen to your eyes. Still, he sighed, tired. “Babe, I don’t wanna fight, alright? Can we talk about it in the morning?”

It wasn’t unkind, the way he said it, just frustrated, calm enough to understand that yelling wasn’t going to help this time. You nodded, walking into the room so you could perch yourself on the desk that served as half of your vanity, half of Steve’s workspace. You toed off your fluffy socks, the ones with mini cows printed on them.

Steve was watching you, a little confused, a little on edge.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” you told him. “Not now, not in the morning.”

The boy raised his brows, waiting for the hook, like this was a trick. “We don’t?” He murmured, voice full of doubt.

You shook your head, hands grabbing the hem of your shirt, throwing it to the floor. Your pyjama shorts left little to the imagination.

Steve’s gaze darkened, pupils blown wide at all the bare skin, lips parting and you heard the quiet sigh that left his mouth, the hitch in his breath that never got old.

“No,” you agreed, voice soft. “We can just fuck instead, yeah?”

He was on you without missing a second, zero hesitation as he abandoned his stack of folded shirts and pushed himself between your legs. Steve kissed you without any warm up, his lips a familiar press against your own and you’d shared enough kisses with the boy to know how this worked. You sighed, overwhelmingly happy to feel him against you and you parted your lips for him without a second thought.

Tongues pressing over tongues, teeth clashing, hot and needy and desperate. There was no warm up, none required after your argument left you both tinged with longing and guilt, just enough leftover frustration for you to grab a little meanly at the other. Your hands fisted Steve’s hair, earning you a rough groan that you swallowed and kept for yourself.

Steve’s palms roamed your body, never settled enough, always seeking more, grabbing at your waist, your tits, pulling you closer by your hips before cradling your jaw, titling you the way he wanted so he could kiss you deeper still. And then, his fingers coasted down, skimming across the curve of your stomach, all warm skin and calloused touches, pulling at the waistband of your shorts until he could swipe through your folds and grunt at how wet you were.

“How’d you want me?” Steve panted it into your mouth, a kiss that wasn’t a kiss, lips barely moving but not daring to part.

“Like this,” you told him, just a breathy, just as desperate. “Now, baby, need you now.”

You curled your legs around his hips, thighs gripping him, heels pressed to his ass to encourage him closer. He moaned at your impatience, grabbing the collar of his t-shirt so he could rip it off and launch it at the clean pile on the bed. Together, you made quick work of his belt, buttons popping, leather snapping, denim pushed down just enough to free his hard cock from his boxers, red and leaking at the tip for you. It made you whine, hand grabbing at the length of it while Steve pumped one, then two fingers into you. They hooked into the spot you loved real quick, running little circles and making you gasp out, pulling at the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck.

“Fuck, honey,” Steve groaned, mouthing over your throat, teeth nipping, wanting you left lilac and rose for him, all marked up as his own. “Spread your legs for me, c’mere baby…”

He slid into you like that, faster than he normally would, pausing when he was fully seated inside of you to let you adjust and catch your breath. Your forehead was against his, his chin ducked down to meet you, lips swollen and red from your kisses, cheeks the same pretty colour.

“Fuck, Steve, please.”

A snap of his hips, a little mean, all pent up frustration and too many nights of missing you. Another, harder still, deeper than before, his hands hooked under your thighs to keep you open for him. He kissed you sweet though, smiling into it when you nudged your nose against his own and whined, seeking out his mouth, pouting, needy, already fucking putty for him.

“M’sorry, baby, my sweet girl,” he murmured. “So good for me, aren’t you? Fuck, don’t wanna fight, I’m sorry—”

You tried to say sorry back, you really did. But Steve found it more amusing to fuck you into the wall, grinning each time your apology got stuck in your throat and high mewl came out intead. And that was okay, he could tell by your glassy eyes and the way you clung to him that you were sorry too. And if you had to wake him up in the morning to apologise again?

Well, that was okay too.

…

[innorogers]

Lucid

Steve Rogers x Dark Past Reader (You)

Summary: Steve finds out about your past. You're nothing as he thought you were. You are better.

Warning: Steve struggling / Past revelations / You don't have to read this: Chapter 1 - Insomnia, but it would enhance the experience if you did.

What do you do the night you meet the love of your life? You spend it with to him—talking, hugging, kissing, teetering on the edge of going further... but it doesn’t matter, because one day, you won’t recall the specifics. Years from now, future you will think back to this night and remember only the magic you felt, the moments your heart skipped a beat, and the wonder of it all.

In the present, as the first rays of sunlight rise from the east and touch your face, you can barely keep your eyes open, almost drifting off against Steve’s shoulder. Once he finds out you’ve just come off a 13-hour shift, he insists on walking you to your dorm. And though it seems to take every ounce of his willpower, he refuses your unspoken invitation to stay. Ever the gentleman.

After a shift that handed you five hours of overtime, you managed to get immediate compensation—and even figured out how to maximize your sleep: you'll shower later.

So, after Steve kisses you goodbye for the sixth time, you finally close the door and collapse into your pillow. Though, to be honest, you’d rather be falling asleep on his chest.

Captain America, on the other hand, was more awake than ever. The last time he felt this energized was when they thawed him from his popsicle state. It was like walking in sunlight, and he half-expected some cheesy background music to play as he moved through the halls.

But, as always, fate was waiting in the corner to throw a punch and kick his perfectly peach shaped ass.

You were still on his mind when he stepped into the Level 0 – Avengers Only common room. You hadn’t left his thoughts since he said goodbye to you... thirty minutes ago.

To his surprise, Natasha was already there – she was never up before 11 – typing something into a computer - she was also never on top of her paperwork -.

“Oh wow, this is rare.” Steve was in a mood—no, actually, "mood" wasn’t the right word. He was still wonderstruck, wrapped up in his own bubble of happiness because of meeting you. 

“Haha, hilarious,” Natasha deadpanned without even glancing up. “Go ahead and laugh now, Rogers. One day, that ‘I’m from the 40s, I don’t know this shit’ lame excuse is not gonna to fly anymore, and you’ll actually have to do some of this.”

“Well... by then, hopefully our genius philanthropist will have invented something to take this torture off our hands,” Steve replied, handing her a cup of coffee.

Now he had her attention.

“Someone’s in a good mood…” She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Alright, spill.”

“Oh no, not a chance,” Steve shook his head, grinning. “Not happening.”

But after a pause, he added, “Hey, we have full access to everyone’s records here, right?”

“Yeah, Level 0 clearance,” Natasha replied, still focused on her typing. “You’ve got everything on your phone. Why?”

Steve glanced at your name in his phone and tried to sound casual. “What do you know about an engineer?” He wasn’t entirely sure if that was your title—you had mentioned it, but he had only been paying attention to the important stuff (like your favorite ice cream, song, hobbies, and what you wanted to do this Saturday night…).

“You’ll need to be more specific. I need an ID or at least a last name.”

“Illithya Lancaster,” he said softly, almost smiling as your name left his lips.

“Oh yeah,” Natasha responded immediately, “the one that goes by ‘Twelve,’ right?”

That got Steve’s full attention. He sat up straight, frowning. “‘Twelve’? Is that a nickname?”

“Code Name 12. Subject ID HE0012.” Natasha continued typing as though she were battling something. “You know what that means.”

“No.” Steve’s voice turned rigid. “I don’t.”

The typing finally stopped, and Natasha swiveled around in her chair to face him. “H for Hydra, E for experiment, number 12. She was one of Hydra’s experiments, Steve.”

That was a bucket of ice water he hadn’t expected. Right to the spine. Steve took a few seconds to find his voice.

“What?”

“There.” Natasha handed him an iPad with all the information: “See, here she is. Um… mission rescue R804, Siberia… Sokovia… yeah, she’s on Hydra's top confidential list, one of the few we’ve got. Stark moved mountains to save her from rotting in a federal prison for eternity.” She spoke quickly as she read, her voice unusually soft, full of compassion.

Steve paused for a moment, trying to recall if you’d mentioned anything about a nickname last night, but he didn’t think you had.

He could barely think. His voice, distant and faint, whispered: “‘Twelve’? What… happened to the other eleven?”

Swiping the iPad, Natasha didn’t even look up, just shrugged: “What do you think?” She didn’t notice Steve’s face go pale instantly. 

“Illithya was the only survivor, barely. Used and discarded as anything Hydra could imagine… like something disposable.” 

She sighed. “I’ve seen awful things, but this is one of the files I try to forget.”

Steve’s mind was in turmoil. He couldn’t think, and the pain in his chest seemed to crush every fiber of his being.

He couldn’t believe it. You, his treasured little secret, his enchanted, magical midsummer night, this beautiful, pure soulmate he’d fallen with—the one who told him a fairy would bring him all the stars—had been used, abused, treated like a guinea pig, nothing more than a lab rat?

He was beginning to understand the emotions rising within every cell of his body: a mix of uncontrollable anger, sadness, and fear.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, his voice wavered slightly: “...How… how long was she experimented on?”

Natasha set the file aside and looked him straight in the eye. There was empathy there. She knew Steve was shaken, so she softened her voice as much as she could, though her words remained honest.

“‘Till we got her? A lifetime. She was born and raised in captivity. Her entire existence was based on an experiment.”

Steve closed his eyes. It was more than he could bear. The pain he felt intensified with every word Nat spoke. 

He clenched his fists, veins bulging with rage. How could they. 

“How did you rescue her?” He found himself asking in a calm voice, as if inquiring about any other case.

“We didn’t. She escaped, and we found her. After you and Tony split in Siberia.” Nat pulled up the file again on the tablet and handed it to him, but Steve didn’t look. He wasn’t ready.

“So, until she got away…” Steve heard his voice, sounding unnervingly emotionless, and he hated it. “Was she under Hydra’s control her entire life?”

Black Widow didn’t respond at first. She nodded, just barely, while watching him. She was using the spy stare, reading everything beneath the surface, interpreting every unspoken word, every pause, every silence was a puzzle piece for her to figure out the entire picture.

“A lifetime under Hydra…” Steve whispered.

And he felt awful for saying it.

But there it was, a poisoned seed growing in the shadows of his mind. Steve wanted to bury it deep, but he couldn’t stop. 

The doubt crept in, spreading like a toxin—the thought that everything you’d been through had changed you.

How could you ever purge Hydra’s venom from your veins? Was it still there, lurking in every dormant cell, slowly expanding like a plague, consuming all the good, the magic, the purity in you? Corrupting you?

“Stop,” Natasha suddenly said.

She gave him a look Steve recognized—she was about to ask something that would make him think, really think.

After a deep breath, she spoke: “If you’re asking about her, it’s because you’ve met her, right? So, what do you think? Did she seem like a…villain? Or was she different? Special, maybe?”

Steve leaned back into the chair at her words, the memory of you filling his mind again, your innocence, your weird yet adorable responses, your naivety, your smile…You.

The touch of your hand, the softness of your voice, the pureness of your soul. The way you’d clung to him, spoke to him, trusted him, kissed him. He exhaled slowly, a ghost smile on his face. 

“No. I never thought of her as a villain. Or as any…negative. She was different, more than different. She was…she is…incredible…she’s wonderful…she’s…” Perfect.

Natasha remained in silence. Staring at him. Then she leaned up, her words like splashed ripples on the spring's surface. “Why do you trust Barnes, Steve?”

Her tone was calm and serene, yet it made Steve clench his fists. The question was unexpected, but not unanticipated—he knew she’d ask; she always pushed when she had that look.

“He was, or is, more Hydra than anyone we’ve ever rescued from those hellholes, yet you risked everything to save him.”

“That’s different. I know Bucky, he’s all I have left of my past. And he was brainwashed.” You weren’t. You acted, and you act by choice… don’t you? Steve panicked at the thought. Everything you did, you did with your heart… right? Everything that happened last night, was true…Right?

“So if she wasn’t brainwashed, she’s guilty?” A slight ironic smile tugged at Nat’s lips. “Even though she never asked to be born into a Hydra experiment, or to live in captivity. Is she at fault, Steve? For not trying hard enough to escape?”

Steve froze at her words, realizing what she was getting at. You weren’t brainwashed, no, much worse, you’d grown up knowing nothing of life outside Hydra. You weren’t just a victim. No. He thought of you. You were a survivor. A fighter.

“That sounded a bit protective.” Steve looked at his fellow Avenger, studying her expression. “Was it just a rescue mission, Nat? You don’t usually…attach to people.”

Letting out a laugh, Natasha returned to her usual mysterious, lazy smile. “I’ll let you find out for yourself.” 

She hesitated but finally spoke under Steve’s gaze: “She’s… different, Steve.”

A slight, warm smile crossed Black Widow’s face. 

“She’s kind…and good. I don’t know how to explain it, but she’s innocent. Her heart… it’s pure.”

Steve raised an eyebrow at Nat’s words. He could hear the awe in her voice, and it made him think of you: The way you’d looked at him, the sparkle in your eyes. Tiny butterflies fluttered in his stomach as he remembered the way you’d laughed and how they took flight when he kissed you.

Without even realizing it, his voice became as tender as it could be: “Yes. She is all those things.”

“Like I said.” Natasha leaned back in her chair, her fingers returning to the keyboard. “I’ll let you find out for yourself.”

LAB 278—it had taken some time to find.

Steve silently thanked Jarvis for lighting the way as he stepped into your lab—your private, secluded lab, hidden almost a 20-minute walk from the central facilities. Steve hadn’t even known this place existed on campus.

He pushed open the door and saw you through the thick glass. He couldn’t help but marvel as he took in the entire space. Your lab looked like a greenhouse, with plants everywhere—on the desk, under the tables, on the floor, shelves, and windows. Long curtains of leaves hung down from the ceiling like rain falling through broken glass. 

Large screens dominated the room, and then Steve’s eyes widened at what he saw next. 

An armory. Their. Armory. 

A bow being analyzed by lasers, prototypes of metal gauntlets, shattered helmets, and torn suits.

And then, he saw you.

You were cleaning his shield.

Everything fell into silence when his gaze rested on you. The whole place became a quiet green ocean, so still that Steve could almost hear the plants breathing. And his own heartbeat. That stopped when you lifted the shield and gently kissed it.

“Do a good job,” he heard you whisper to it. “Protect him. Keep him safe.”

Steve snapped out of it as those words echoed in his mind. He had a hundred questions, but they vanished in that instant. He wasn’t even thinking—he was reacting—as he stepped forward and opened the door.

The look on your face when you heard the noise and turned around was indescribable. All the tension in your expression softened, and the light in your eyes brightened. 

Steve wondered, how he’d been so blind, so stupid, to believe some reports instead of trusting…you.

“Oh. Hi…” You smiled, joy sparkling in every corner of the room.

God, that smile. The happiness in your eyes at seeing him weakened his knees. He spoke, his voice softer than he’d expected. 

“Hey...”

You almost run to him under instinc. Wanting to move closer, to take his hands, but…you weren’t sure. Was it too much? Too fast? What are you (or this) supposed to be? Are you even dating? Will he hate it? So, you blushed and stood still. “I…I um… I’m so glad you’re here.”

Steve noticed the way you flinched, the way you wanted to reach out but held yourself back. It made him feel…sad, like something was cracking in his chest. He wanted to reach out and take your hand. But he didn’t—not yet. 

Instead, he stepped closer, his voice gentle as he smiled. “…And I’m very glad to be here.”

“Oh.” You weren’t sure if it was the lack of sleep or if you were just lost in his eyes, but your mind was racing, and you couldn’t stop yourself from blurting out something dumb, like really dumb.

“I missed you.”

Oh, what the hell. You wanted to bite your tongue. Especially when you saw Steve freeze. Okay, that was stupid as fuck, you thought, looking down, unsure of what to say next.

“I’ll take it back, I’m sorry, that was stu—” But before you could finish, you were pulled into a tight embrace.

Steve pulled you towards him, wrapping his arms around you in a tight, protective hold. As if he wanted you to melt within him.

He realized how absurd he had been for holding this back, how deeply he craved you. Like a primal longing, like a dying plant thirsting for a drop of dew, or desperate for air.

“Please…don’t be.” He whispered, pressing your head to his shoulder, inhaling the scent of your hair, his eyes closed as he sighed. “I missed you too.”

“Oh.” You awkwardly ran your hands along his back, fumbling at first, before simply giving in and hugging him tighter. You caressed his neck until he rested his forehead against yours, exhaling deeply.

And you smiled. 

“So…you did find out, huh?”

He stood silently, with his chin in your shoulder. And after a while he said in a bitter tone: “How’d you know?”

“‘Cause you look exactly like Tony and Natasha did when they found out. And… because you’re in my lab. I mean, I don’t think this place is a hot spot, huh?” You laughed and broke the hug slightly, but he tightened his grip on your waist, unwilling to let you pull away. 

You caressed his face, inhaling the warmth of his breath, and looked into his eyes. 

"Steve, what happened to me isn’t a burden for you to carry, you know that, right?”

Steve froze. 

Isn’t it? 

Wasn’t it because he hadn’t destroyed Hydra when he had the chance?

Because they didn’t find out sooner?

Because… he wasn’t there?

You struggled to read people, especially someone you cared about, so when you saw the pale, stiff look on his face, you paralyzed.

Was that why he came? To tell you it was over? Well…to be honest, you wouldn’t blame him. After all… you were you, and he was… Steve Rogers. And you were…Hydra’s Frankenstein.

That thought must have shown on your face, because Steve noticed the change in your expression—fear and shame, like you were some kind of Quasimodo who had his mask ripped off.

The mere thought made Steve’s blood boil—the idea that he might reject you because of your past, as if you were to blame for things you couldn’t control. As you were…sinful and…bad.

He suddenly cupped your face and spoke firmly, the words echoing from his heart, the same words he should have said the moment Natasha told him the truth.

“Hey, hey… look at me. Look at me.” He stared straight into your eyes. "Don’t doubt me. Don’t doubt… us.” His voice was filled with protectiveness and anger. “I’m here, and I…” I’m falling for you.

“Do you regret it?” Your voice trembled. “Last night… do you regret… meeting me?”

“No.” His voice was steady and resilient, unwavering and unshakable: “Not in a million lifetimes.”

You held your breath for a moment, trying not to cry. Then spoke as you were telling a secret. 

“I always wondered…What would I have been like if I were… normal? If I had normal parents—a father working in a bank, a mom as a teacher. I’d go to school, go to prom, fall in love… have friends… but…” 

You pressed your fingers into his hand and smiled softly.

“… I wouldn’t change anything about my past, if that was the road I had to take, that leaded me…to finally meet you.”

Steve felt like he could’ve started crying at any moment. 

Your past had left a crack in his heart, something he could never fix, something that would always hurt. And yet, you said it was all worth it? All the suffering, all the pain… just to meet him? How could he… how could he deserve you? He couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe.

“God…” he murmured, his voice filled with pain. “How can you say that… how can you still be so…” 

Kind. Good. Pure.

Natasha was damn right. You were everything she said, and more.

“Hmmm… Maybe…” You thought out loud. "Maybe I always knew I’d meet you someday, and I had to be good enough… to be… worthy.”

Steve exhaled, trying to calm the storm in his heart and mind. 

The weight of your words hit him hard. He paused for a moment before he pulled you against him, his arms wrapping around you tightly, as if that could protect you from all the misfortune or pain that might come in the years ahead.

“Damn it…”

His voice broke as he whispered.

“I can’t believe I found you…”

“Well then,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. 

“Thank you for finding me.”

Time stilled for a moment, but before he could think, Steve’s body had already reacted, he pinned you against the workbench as his hand weaved through your hair, and his lips pressed yours in a deep kiss. 

He couldn’t hold back anymore, he needed you, wanted you, to hold you as close as possible, without letting you go ever again.

All the composure he had been trying to maintain disappeared the moment he felt you. 

Your lips, your tongue, your scent… Any sense of reason was hanging by a thread. 

He lifted you onto the desk, sending pens and books scattering to the floor, but he didn’t give a damn. Not when your legs wrapped around his hips and you moaned his name as his hand tightened around your waist.

“Jesus…”

The way your voice sounded, the way you were looking at him, the way you were sitting with your legs around him, everything was driving him desperately crazy, struggling to keep control to not to tear your clothes off and make you his right there. 

He broke the kiss before doing something reckless, but his body was tense, and his breathing panting. 

“You’re driving me crazy…” He breathes heavily, leaving a deep kiss in your forehead.

“What?” Your mind was still spinning from his kiss, and you replied without thinking: “Well yeah, welcome to the club.” 

Steve left out a laugh, All the intense revelations from earlier had nearly made him forget just how incredible your comebacks were. 

He looks down and kisses you again, this time with more tenderness than passion, and he speaks as he continues. 

“I’ve been thinking about this since I left you this morning…”

“Can you…” You could barely form a word without moaning: “Can you think…of taking this further?”

“…” 

That made him stopped. 

The suggestion sent a shiver down his spine. Oh you and your amazing comebacks. His mind suddenly flashed, imagining all the things he’d wanted to do to you, maybe in his room, in the bed, with you under him, moaning his name as you just did, only louder and louder…

Steve quickly shook the thought from his mind, trying to force himself back to reality. 

“God… please don’t tempt me.” He could feel his body reacting to his own imagination, so he pressed his forehead against yours, clenching his fists, trying to regain some control.

“I…” You wanted to say, "I don’t mind," or even, 'I don’t give a damn if you take me right now...You know what, there’s actually a bed at the back of this lab.' But then his phone rang.

“What the hell…” He glanced at the caller ID and groaned, “For gods sake, what timing…” One hand reached for the phone while the other held you firmly. “I’m sorry, babe, give me a sec.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of him calling you that for the first time, but before you could process it, Tony Stark’s voice echoed through the empty lab.

“I don’t know what you are doing there, Cap…And trust me, I don’t wanna know…but Jarvis just sent me a reminder, to remind you, that there are cameras everywhere in the working campus. Everywhere.” 

You could tell there was a humorous tone in Iron man’s voice.

“Even in remotely located labs for top secret employees.”

End but TBC-

Continue to:

3: Reverie |

4: Nightmare |

5: Awakening |

6: Dusk |

7: Hypnagogia |

8: Lull |

9: Vigil |

10: Eclipse |

Alright, thanks for reading up to here. Hope you enjoyed it!! <3

So when I started writing Part 1, I was like, 'Oh, let's just write cute one-shots and short stuff.' And here I am with a complex OC and a struggling Steve. I'm so sorry for that :3 I just can't help myself!

Part 3 comes with 'the one night I made you mine and made you beg' thing I was hoping I'd finally get to. I promise! (Still have no idea how I'm writing that through my working shifts, tho.)

Okay, have a good one <3 Lmk if you liked it ? Report and everything is highly appreciated <3 :D

Love.,

Moon.

[killshotbabe]

Title | Overheated

Pairing | high school friend’s crush/bf!Jeno x reader ft. nct dream (minor appearance)

Warnings | minors dni! mention of smoking and alcohol consumption, use of swear words, reader stuck in an “uncomfortable” situation, close proximity, drunk!reader at some point, sexual tension, cheating/affair, jeno gaslights reader (or does he really?), fingering, implied solo masturbation, slight somnophilia, a bit "dub non-con" in the beginning, overstimulation, sex under the influence (reader only), dirty talk, unprotected sex (please wear protection!), implied public sex, no romance in any type of context

Word count | 4.5k

Song(s) | red - santino le saint, link up - kid travis

A.N | May or may not have dreamed about the idea of this lol. Just finished it today so happy valentines! (this one-shot won't make you blush that way...)

You’re not sure why your friend decided to it would be a good idea to go out with someone like him to begin with.

At first, you thought she’d get over him like usual, hoping it’s just a part of her “hyper-fixations” just like how she’s got maybe five crushes all at once (from what you can recall in one of those nights you spent hanging out in her bedroom) but much to your horror, it wasn’t as simple as that.

You remember her gawking at him at the cafeteria after she had jokingly pinched you, nudging you to check him out in which caused to roll your eyes and proceed to open the cap of your cold tea.

You didn’t care about crushes at all, and yes, he was cute, handsome even but the only thing that piqued your interest at the moment was that sleek navy blue motorcycle he brought to school. You’ve always wanted one and to say that you were jealous of him flexing one at such young age is nothing but an understatement — you wanted what he had even if you couldn’t afford it.

And that wasn’t fair to you. Not when he barely has to do anything when you’re out here working part-time at a pizza parlour and you can barely even pay half of the bills at home.

Him and his old money status can go to hell, you think. He doesn’t even need to show up to any of his classes and you’re one-hundred percent sure he’ll be able to get into any top universities so easily, he just has to maybe tell his parents—

“Hey, are you listening?”

You blink away from your train of thought, the faint bustle of the library buzzing into your ear.

You realize you’re still in the same place for about three hours now, trying to study with the same friend (which would be your only friend, not best friend yet though because you don’t like getting attached to things, let alone actual people) who had been yapping about him for the past hour, and you may or may not have told her to shut the fuck up in your head twice.

“Wait, sorry.” You lie, typing away as your friend broke into a sly grin after finally catching your attention. “What did you say?”

“I said I’m gonna talk to Jeno today.”

Jeno.

Him.

You couldn’t help but squint, almost bursting out of laughter.

You didn’t mind your friend at all.

She was fun, even if she’s the complete opposite of you. Loved cute things like pastel colours, calico critters and dressed the part as 1/4 of the future art majors in your campus (quirky, and she happened to obsessed with colour yellow), and collects a shit ton of squishmallows she even has a separate storage for it. She’s literally the true epitome of cute, preppy and pure.

Way too pure when it comes to that said department actually.

You weren’t even sure how someone like you were friends with her, and why she wouldn’t leave you alone but she was quite persistent with you — having to initiate things first after meeting you then following you around until you decided to just let her have at it.

Ever since then the two of you had been inseparable.

Though that didn’t mean you two were automatically best friends (even if she did say this a couple of times) and you would be lying if you saw it that way too when she mostly talked about herself, her hobbies, her interests, etc. unlike you who just sits there and listens, nodding your head off as if you do agree (mostly you don’t because you can’t relate or it’s just not your style) but you don’t really have the heart to tell her that… not when she’s generally nice and hasn’t really done anything to offend you.

You just admire the fact that she keeps dragging you around and never gave up on you. You don’t even know what made her want to work her butt off to earn your approval and have her invade your space like that, but you guessed that maybe she’s just someone you might need in your life.

…And that maybe, she’s there for a reason you can’t quite guess.

She hasn’t done anything stupid anyway.

…Until today.

“What?”

You balked, brows raised as she sighed dreamily, already planning her wedding dress for when she ends up marrying Jeno, her “soon-to-be high school sweetheart” as she mentioned just a few times and might have tried to manifest too with you in her room in front of her mini crystal collection she’s been obsessed with lately.

“I’m gonna say hi to him today! I’m sick of him not knowing who I am.”

If anything, you weren’t really surprised with this sudden revelation.

It was about time for her to finally try to introduce herself to him after crushing on him for two months now, and you do know she would have the great confidence to almost pursue anything, including him but you didn’t really want this day to come (hell, the thought of it was already dreadful) because you already knew what was bound to happen once she approaches him.

It’s like… surrendering a fawn to a den full of lions, and you can’t do anything but watch her get eaten, figuratively-speaking.

“You don’t look too happy, but that won’t stop me y’know.”

She winked mischievously, stealing a tomato chip off your lunch as you shook your head, a little smile playing on the edge of your lips.

“Do whatever you want but don’t rope me into your shit.”

You shrugged only to earn a scowl from her, her round eyes practically begging you to tag along when she introduces herself to him later on.

“But… c’mon! You don’t even have to say anything you just have to be there for moral support, pretty please?”

You could only sigh, pausing whatever you were doing just to look at her in the eye, already incapable of saying ‘no’ to her because in your defense she looked too cute.

You couldn’t afford to break her heart by saying no.

“Fine… whatever! Just get me ice cream after then we’re good.”

“Oh, I was about to say that too in case he rejects me ha ha,” she laughs off as she sipped on her watered down mango juice. “But at least I tried, yes? Then we can just enjoy our little ice cream date but I might cry…”

You weren’t even worried about that all, but you don’t say that part to your friend because guys like Jeno fancied cute girls.

Especially the innocent ones.

And your friend just might be the perfect girl for him.

To say that you weren’t right would be a goddamn lie, and you wished you were anywhere else but here, inside Jeno’s black sports car, the posh leather seat cold under your lap.

It’s been a month since the day your friend had introduced herself to him with such spark in her eyes you thought Jeno’s friends might have fallen for her too. One of them was even eyeing her from head to toe, visibly amused after seeing her short little skirt hugging her little frame.

Your friend, on top of being the real embodiment of cute, was still gorgeous and easy on the eyes, so it didn’t really surprise you when Jeno ended up giving his number to her as you tucked yourself away from his plain sight, hiding behind your much shorter friend when she confessed her feelings to him with so much confidence, it made you gag.

You weren’t really sure what happened overnight but just a week after, you found yourself on your own as your friend started hanging out with Jeno, his friends and their equally cute “girlfriends”, but she still made sure to spend half of her lunch break with you, even trying to drag you to their table but you could only reject her offer and excuse yourself because you had to catch up on an “assignment” when in reality, you would rather sit in the library by yourself than sit with them.

Then, today, you and your friend was supposed to go shopping by train but what she didn’t tell you was Jeno was gonna be there to drive the two of you so you don’t have to commute on the way to the mall and on the way back.

At first, you fumed having to deal with him being in an inclosed space as you, but it was indeed cold outside now that it’s halfway October and you certainly didn’t want to wait for the train with you friend in this type of weather (and maybe you did want to see his car up close and personal…) so you begrudgingly agreed, letting her yank you off your misery and plunge you into it all when she voluntarily pushed you to the backseat, your eyes drifting to Jeno who’s still talking to one of his friends, Mark, another guy from his group you do find just as attractive.

You could only roll your eyes as your friend wore her seatbelt on, giddily humming to herself. You gradually shifted your attention elsewhere, quite amazed with the clean and sleek interior of his car, but again it made sense.

Jeno was neat, never messy.

“Sorry, Mark was being clingy.”

You briefly hear him quickly apologize with a low chuckle as he slipped behind the wheel, his classy, citrusy scent invading your senses.

You cross your arms and looked away, trying to get him off your head as your friend’s slightly high-pitched voice cooed him “it”s okay!” and that “we can wait” ultimately, ignoring that fact that she just called him “babe” after.

This was one major thing you couldn’t bring yourself to fully admit — the fact that he’s now officially “seeing” your friend not even after a few months in which you felt no ounce of happiness about.

Your friend did inform you about it just a few nights before when she asked if you could come over and watch a scary movie with her because she noticed you were too busy and had no time with her (and you did feel bad because even if she’s always with him, she till spent some time with you only for you to run away for the most part) but she didn’t confront you about it at all.

If anything, it seemed like the usual chill nights you’d share with her until she brought him up and dropped the bomb on you without some sort of a warning beforehand especially when she can tell you’re not fond of Jeno nor his friends.

It felt like a sick joke, and it just feels like you friend is doing her best to make you change your mind about him which you don’t plan on doing so, not when you catch him doing PDA with your friend here and there you couldn’t help but swear at him in your head and look away.

The more time you had to spend with those two, sometimes with their friends, made you want to crumble or run off to the opposite direction.

They were exactly like what you imagined them to be, a couple of rich, privileged kids with filthy heads, the filth your friend is too innocent to be able discern.

They were sneaky about it too especially that Haechan guy who might have tried to get into your pants before, and you hated him so bad you had to tell him to back off you in which he called you feisty in return with the sinister promise of “you’ll want me someday.” before he left you to go smoke.

The rest of the group hasn’t really said anything to you yet. Sometimes they did but it was shallow and the girls hated your guts which is fair because you hated them as much (and with passion too). The only person you could perhaps stand in the group was Renjun.

The guy didn’t make any back-handed comments and he kept to himself for the most part but he did flash you a gaze occasionally wondering why you’re even here to begin with when it’s so damn obvious you don’t like anyone except your friend who always made sure you were included even if you tried to get away, and when you do try… it always ends with her getting what she wants.

And now you’re here, lost in your thoughts as you bore your full attention to the rows of yellow lights in the tunnel, the loud laughter your friend shared with Jeno mocking you.

He did leave the two of you alone to go shopping, and just came back to pick the you up as promised, then he’s supposed to drop you off first before her then they might go on a date like she told you earlier with so much excitement she couldn’t even choose between the two purses at a high-end store you were helping to choose from.

In the end, the two of you walked out the store satisfied — her with a new heart-shaped purse and you with a cashmere scarf you’ve been fancying on for months now that was on sale (which did hurt your bank account but your friend offered to pay half of it so you can just pay her back with instalments) this then provided some sort of a distraction for you, even offering to buy her a warm drink from the cafe as a sweet treat but since Jeno was already parked by the exit, you had to hurry.

They were still giggling as you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, the urge to strap your headphones around your head getting stronger the more you tuned in, even rolling your eyes when Jeno asked for her hand so he could give it a kiss as if you weren’t just there, witnessing the horrors.

Much to your looming demise, you try to relax and lay your head back with a determined attempt to lull yourself to quick nap anyway since your apartment is around thirty minutes away, so you fold your arms, turned your head to face the window and closed your eyes.

Not even ten minutes later, just when you were about to actually let sleep take over, your hear the deep rumble of Jeno’s voice.

“She’s asleep isn’t she?”

There was a slight movement from your friend, causing you to hold your breath as you feel her check on you.

“Yep, she did say she was tired.”

“She doesn’t talk much. Why are you even friends with her?”

Jeno snickered, taunting you from the rear-view mirror as you tried your best not to reach out and strangle him god willing.

He doesn’t even know you like that.

“She’s nice! Just give her some time.” You friend sighed, defending your honour which you almost snorted at but pretending to be asleep at this very moment was more ideal for you, you think.

You pushed yourself to further into the door, eyelids slightly parting just in time to see him give her a sleazy wink before you saw his hand land on her lap, making your heart drop at the sight.

You weren’t sure if you liked where this was going at all.

“She’s sleeping Jeno…”

You clawed on your sleeved, clenching your jaw when you hear Jeno whisper rather suggestively.

You knew it was meant for your friend, but he didn’t even bother hiding it, assuming you’re fully knocked out at the back seat.

“If you can keep it down, she won’t know.”

You swore you almost cried, knuckles turning white for how hard you formed into fists when you hear your friend’s shy giggles which enveloped to a series of quiet moans from the front seat when he began touching her down there as he drove, the soft r&b blaring from his speakers in an attempt to suppress the noises your friend was trying so hard to hide so she won’t wake you up, when in reality, you were very much awake to witness all of this happening.

At this point, you genuinely wished you were dead, begging for the door to just unlatch itself so you can slide off your seat and fall into the road to your death than sit here, being forced to hear your friend let out a strangled moan as he fingered her, easily dragging her close to her peak.

You wanted it to stop — for them to just cut it out and put an end to your nightmare but it only got worse as the time went by.

You can practically hear the lewd noises Jeno was making with his fingers as he played with her sheer arousal and the way he was talking to her in such a dirty manner for the sole purpose to make her cum in which she violently did just a few minutes later, an animalistic high-pitched squeak leaving her lips before she heaving and moaning his name shakily with him still fucking her with fervour, overstimulating her.

The subsequent scarlet hue spread on your cheeks, heating your face up, second-hand embarrassment kicking in as you chewed on your lip until you drew blood from your cracked ones, neck craning all the way to your side so your scarf could hide the horrified expression on your face.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to cry or laugh — cry because he had the audacity to finger your friend at your presence or laugh because of the high-pitched noise your friend made. You think it’s a mixture of both and you think you might have gone clinically insane from that alone as this was not a part of your bingo card.

It’s only been a few weeks. Have they fucked already?

You try to contain yourself as you kept still when you hear them share a languid kiss in which your friend giggled to before she flashed you a quick gaze, making sure you were in fact, still asleep.

“She probably didn’t hear that did she?”

“I’m sure she didn’t.” Jeno’s mocking tone caused you to move slightly, but not enough to make him think you were awake all along.

Your neck became stiff after what seemed like forever, and as much as you wanted to stay in this painful position you knew you had rouse yourself up just because you couldn’t handle “sleeping” anymore, so you waited until your friend led him to your street as she navigated for him.

It was then the only time you stirred yourself up, alerting the both of them that you were now “awake.”

“Hey, sleepy head!”

You yawned, trying to look at her in the eye in the dark as you borrowed into your scarf, hiding half of your face.

“Yo.”

You diverted your to the windows and recognized your surroundings as the car halted just in front of your apartment complex, relief surging through you in sudden realization that you’re finally home.

“Thank god.”

You murmured under your breath, hand already fixed to the door handle, about to yank yourself out of there when your friend stopped you just before you can leave.

“See you next week!”

She piped up, her pupils shaking in pure excitement you almost asked what the hell she smoked to look like that when you already knew it was due to post-orgasm high.

You couldn’t help but to mirror her expression, but with a completely different reason.

You think you might want to commit right there if you kept smiling for ten more seconds, much like an unhinged criminal.

“Yeah! See you and thanks for the ride, Jeno.”

“Anytime.”

You see him nod at you, acknowledging your thankful nature (he probably though you were incapable of doing that) before you sprinted off, the two of them watching you attentively as you pushed yourself inside the lobby, cursing vehemently under your breath.

You didn’t even sleep that night, not when you find your underwear being wet from your own arousal after thinking about it again.

You don’t even like Jeno to any degree and yet, you still dreamed of him but not for good reasons.

Not at all.

And if your friend was to find out, it would be game over.

//

“I might have a friend who can take me in so Tony can come and fix this.”

You sigh, seeing as how the flooding got worse over the weekend due to the nonstop rainy weather and you, unfortunately, still rents the basement of a hosting family your mother personally knew but since they were on vacation in the UK and the main floor is locked, you can’t even access the floor and camp in the couch until the flooding issue gets fixed.

You’ve been on the phone with your host for an hour now explaining everything, and that they were going dispatch a friend to fix the damage shortly but still advised you that you’ll probably want to look for a friend to sleep over at for the mean time which you were okay with but you didn’t really want to do that even if you had no choice.

Hotels were costly so you dialled your only friend anyway whilst chugging what’s left from your coffee cup before tossing it in the nearby bin.

You’re in a local library now, left with nothing but a small suitcase you hastily shoved most of your every day necessities in to cover one week’s worth. Your host did say it should be okay to come back in a week or less so you made sure not to overpack, and you didn’t really want to stay there for longer, not when the slightly murky water felt cold around your feet.

“What? Are you serious!”

You sighed for what seemed like the 100th time today as you told your friend the whole situation.

“Not sure if this is going work but do you think you can take me in?” You inwardly groaned. “I can pay you.”

“Boo, I wish I can but my aunt’s over with my cousins I don’t have a space for you. Maybe after four days? They leave on Friday!”

“Well that won’t work, thank you though. I’ll go find a hotel—”

“No, no that’s going to be more expensive I can get someone to take you in though if that’s ok?”

You hummed, picking on your nail at the thought. Might as well give it a try.

“Sure…?”

“Ok, great! Give me a sec!”

You hear some sort of a movement from the other line before you hear your friend’s muffled voice once again.

“I just texted Jeno! He should be done working out right now. Where are you?”

“What?!” You let out a harsh whisper, trying to calm down realizing you’re in fact, still in a library. “Jeno—? I didn’t even agree just yet!”

“Well, he’s the only person I one-hundred percent trust with you even if you guys don’t talk but he’s got a huge place you can stay in and then he can even pick both of us up for school!”

“No,” You clutched your head in annoyance, trying your best not to hiss. “I— I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“What? Why? He already said he can do that though just now and I really don’t want you to spend money in a hotel. Too expensive. Good luck with Jeno though because he’ll say no with paying so you’re in good hands!” She laughed a little, making you huff on the other line. “Please? Maybe you guys can be friends. It gets so awkward when I’m with the both of you and you don’t even talk to him…”

“It’s just…” You try to explain. “I don’t know I feel like it’s so rude of me to just—”

“Honey, you’re not being rude! He literally said yes, and he’s got like two cars over there that you might like. If you ask nicely, maybe he can let you drive one to school? How about that?”

You wished she didn’t mention that at all, especially knowing that sport scars were your weakness in general and Jeno happened own two more aside from the one he drives to school.

You weren’t even sure if you had any ounce of dignity left at this point.

Hotels were costly, and you didn’t want to ask your mom for money to spend in a hotel thinking you’ve got a friend to cover for you, plus what you make from your part-time job wasn’t enough to foot the bill if you were to opt for a hotel.

If it was someone else, perhaps Mark or Renjun, you would probably agree without missing a beat (not like they would offer themselves in the first place, but if they did, you’d rather be with them) but this was Jeno.

The guy you’re friend is “seeing” and the same guy you thought about that night when you shouldn’t have.

You don’t even know if you could look at him in the eye anymore, and now you would have to stay over because he’s that nice?

“Heeeey, are you okay? I thought you ended the call for a second there.”

You cleared your throat, trying to make up your mind.

Am I gonna do this or not? Why the fuck would he even agree to this…

“I’m here sorry…”

“Don’t worry about it, okay? I really want you guys to start talking… Don’t you think this is a good idea? He thinks it might be good too.”

“He said that?” You almost laugh. “Thank you, but…”

“He did actually and no buts! Do this for me please?”

“You… fine, fine…” You say as you give up, letting her win over you again.

“Okay! Yay!”

You hear her clasp her hands together before she asked where your exact location was again, intending to forward it to Jeno.

In the end, she simply gave your number to him so it would be easier, logically speaking, but you didn’t even want to save his number at all or have that exchange. It felt so weird to have him there, in your short list of contacts when you don’t even consider him a “friend” for that matter.

You weren’t even sure if you were doing your friend a “favour” even if she did say she trusts Jeno because deep down, you knew she shouldn’t be putting all the trust to him, not when you’re in the picture.

Especially not when you’re about to be confined in one space with no one else but him for god knows how long.

//

He didn’t even bat an eye when you slipped into the front seat of his car as he was in the middle of a conversation what you can assume would be Jaemin, blabbing something about some new pc game he got, so you strapped your seatbelt on quietly, not sure when would be the good time to thank him when you can’t even look at him in the eye.

“K, heading home. Talk later.”

He didn’t say anything either so you slowly fixed half of your attention to the road ahead of you and his one hand steering the wheel expertly, then gradually moved past that so you can finally glance up there, to his gorgeous side profile in which you admire a little.

He’s even more handsome this close, with his tall nose, perfect jawline and glowing fair skin — you thought you might have forgotten your words but you quickly look away, feeling the nervous energy course through your veins.

“No thank you?”

There was a slight tinge of tease in his tone, so you clear your throat, refusing to actually spare him another glance afraid that he might catch you looking more that you should have.

“Sorry… Just sad about the whole situation, but thank you for taking me in. I hope that’s okay with your parents…”

“Don’t worry.” He chuckled a little. “They’re in the Caribbean Islands right now. No one’s home.”

“Oh, that’s great.” You weren’t even sure if that offered some sort of relief on your end. “Always wanted to go there.”

“Maybe if you start hanging out with us more then I can take you there for the summer with the group?”

You think he might be joking, so you treat it as such, trying not to derail from what seemed like a pleasant conversation you two are actually having.

You knew your friend would be happy to hear the fact that you can actually get along just fine, but because of how you see Jeno and his friends in such a negative light, you’re not sure if you had the ability to stop being stubborn for once.

“Maybe.”

You sigh, now shifting your gaze to him again, noticing his muscular, yet lean upper body hugged by just one layer of his black turtle neck. You couldn’t help but to ogle a little, but you do look away, feeling the slight guilt creeping down your spine.

He’s literally one move away from dating your friend, so why do you find it so hard to look away? Not when there are more conventionally attractive guys in the group? Like Mark? Renjun?

I have eyes. I can look, that’s it. It won’t hurt.

“Oh, c’mon the more the merrier.” There was some sort of a drawl in his tone you couldn’t quite miss, but maybe you might have been imagining things. “Let’s see if I end up liking you enough though then maybe I’ll work so hard to drag you into the group and come with us to the Caribbean next summer vacation, yeah?”

Or were you really imagining things?

//

The first night wasn’t bad.

You learn that your friend wasn’t exaggerating when she did tell you he lives in a mansion.

There was a huge fountain in the middle of a private cul-de-sac, two mermaids made out of a slab of rock perched in right in the centre, flowing water trickling from the matching queen conches.

The gate was tall, and the impressive gigantic lot is nestled in what seemed like a canopy of endless tall pine trees. They literally had no neighbours close by and the entirety of the driveway was an actual boulevard, you think they could possibly fit another house over the area.

It felt like you entered a different dimension — the gated community of the rich didn’t feel real at all. Even the air felt expensive, and just when you thought that wasn’t enough, Jeno allowed you to spare a longing gaze to his two other fancy cars parked in a quadruple-door garage.

He did notice your obvious interest with the exterior of his cars so he lets you have your fun until you found yourselves darting inside his own floor which could pass as some sort of a penthouse.

You think he might not even see his parents even if they were in one house altogether halfway in. Hell, if there was party being hosted by him for two days in a row his parents won’t probably hear any of it.

“I have a spare room when the guys sleep over so you can stay there for now. Don’t think I’d have anyone over soon so you’re good.”

You stand in the middle of the spare room, checking the surroundings like some sort of a curious cat.

It was super neat, had some distinctive art pieces by the walls, but it did look like where they would hang out judging from the game consoles tucked into the black drawers under the gigantic screen tv and the mini fridge with a snack bar situated in a corner surrounded by neon lights.

“Thanks again, Jeno.”

You tell him as he leaned against the doorway, a pleasant expression on his face upon noticing the way you looked awestruck with the room arrangement.

“No probs. I’m just one door away so let me know if you need anything. Usually up until 1 am. My maid isn’t here she’s on vacay so just it’s just us two.”

“Sure.”

He left you alone like that, letting you bask at thought of him even having a maid. You think he might have an entire staff like a “head chef” running the house, but sooner or later you learn they’re all on vacation since they were all related which leaves you and Jeno all alone in such a big house, though despite that, you couldn’t help but feel the foreboding anxiety blaring through you like fire alarms.

There was an itch you couldn’t pinpoint and it drove you crazy the more you stayed over, and even if the first night went equally well like normal, you couldn’t help but feel some sort of guilt wrecking through you, so for the next two days you got in touch with Tony, the maintenance guy, in hopes to hear something positive about the situation back home so leave early.

Much to your demise, it won’t be until a few days so you gave up, trying to calm yourself down as you tucked yourself to bed right after doing your homework on your third night.

Your friend visited you a few hours before but since her and Jeno had plans for the night which involved the guys, Jeno might be coming home around dawn. You couldn’t help but feel the crash of relief to be finally alone for once which was bad for you to admit since you’re literally staying in his house for free, but having him there to share a space with made you feel too damn guarded and you hated that.

It wasn’t like he was watching you either — if anything, you’re the one who was doing more of that especially when you ate together after he offered to cook, and if he did order take-out, he asked what you wanted and delivered it right to your door just because you didn’t feel like going downstairs when you should’ve offered but upon finding out he was in the ground floor from their own home gym, you decided not to.

He didn’t even bother putting a shirt on when he knocked on your door, letting you see his bare abs through the wide split of the door so you were quiet thankful you didn’t make your way downstairs even when the damage has been done and it did nothing but make things worse for you.

“The passcode is the last four numbers of you number.”

He concluded as he gave you a quick rundown of instructions in terms of the security system.

You nodded obediently, quite touched at the fact that he made you your own designated password even if you’re only staying for a couple of days.

You weren’t friends with him yet, but he sure made things easier and was quite civilized the entire time, even putting all the trust in you to be in the house but the cams were all on so he can literally see what you would be up to unless you lock yourself in your room.

You follow closely behind him and your friend now holding hands with him as the three of you entered the garage. Your friend gave you a little pat on a head muttering a “good girl” in a light, teasing tone before they eventually drove away, leaving you by yourself for the next few hours.

You actually planned to do a mini tour and explore the other floors besides Jeno’s floor but because you didn’t want to end up falling to any “trap” doors (Jeno did mention that once as a joke but you didn’t want to risk it) you chose to stay in your room instead and watched movies on netflix with a plan to reheat the leftover pizza from last night.

Around midnight, you found yourself by the mini bar, wanting to try some of the alcohol he had so you pop a Hennessy from the glass shelf into a mug instead to pair with some sun chips to munch on at midst of a thriller movie you picked.

After downing what seemed to be a couple of glasses within the passing hours, you nursed an impending headache throbbing in your head. You could only curse, the thought of being completely hangover the next day already pissing you off.

You were more of a social drinker, but you think it’s been a while since the last time you attended a party and back then, it wasn’t so bad. You were still able to walk and say sentences incoherently after a few shots but this was worse.

You’re severely tipsy at this point, gaze all hazy as you attempt to shut the tv off, squinting over the rolling credits you can barely read off from.

You yank your crewneck over your head after feeling too hot, opting for just a mid-length slip as you tumbled out of your room, wanting to head to the bathroom with the sudden urge to splash some icy cold water on your face but you weren’t fully thinking as to where you were heading until you managed to somehow push into Jeno’s room, arms splayed in the dim-lit space.

You stumbled your way into his own bathroom adjacent to his bookcase, locking yourself in.

You were about to pass out inside, suddenly too sleepy to function but still made it out of there only to end up locating his equally large, yet better bed, his sheets cool under your skin which eased up the liquid fire running in your bloodstream.

You weren’t really sure what you did next, but the faint smell of his citrusy scent from his nice, cold sheets, you didn’t care about anything else and instead, slept through the great comfort of it all.

Unbeknownst of you, Jeno did end up going back home earlier than planned, but without your friend this time.

He was too exhausted to even notice that something was truly off by the time he got into bed, shirt off, sleep knocking him out a few minutes in.

“She won’t know.”

He placed your arms on the curve of your back as he pinned you to the wall in a hallway absent of any light.

You feel his sweet, minty breath on your nape, his strong hand tight around your wrists in a vice grip with the intention of not letting you go.

You were so breathless now, letting him do what he wished, his free hand tracing the outline of your thigh as he yanked the hem of your dress upwards, groping you from behind, whispering sinisterly in your ear before kissing the slant your shoulder, his hand snaking dangerously inside the silk fabric until he replaced your bra with his, playing with your breasts in a manner that drove you nuts.

“You’ve thought about this haven’t you?” He pressed, as you whimpered helplessly, back arched with your behind brushing against his. “Answer.”

“Y-yes…”

You sigh, unable to control the soft moan emitting from your throat when he eventually slid his hand in your underwear, callused fingers rubbing your clit now covered with pure arousal, spreading it all over your aching sensitivity.

“I didn’t even have to spit.” He hissed sardonically. “But I think you’ll like that, yeah? What do you think? Do you want me to spit on your pussy?”

“F-fuck… yeah…”

You feel him pull his fingers off you, causing you to whine at the loss of contact when you hear him spit behind you, immediately sliding his hand back into your soiled underwear after doing so, messily mixing the glob of his spit with your slick arousal you think if he kept this up, you would cum in no time without even having him fuck you at all.

“You’re disgusting…” He hummed in satisfaction, ultimately parting your pussy lips so he can pump a finger in, his lips leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down your spine. “I like that.”

You hear him groan at the feeling your tight walls around his long, slender fingers, a series of swears rolling off your mouth when he began fingering you, fucking his spit into your throbbing hole all desperate for him and him only.

You rubbed your thighs together in a desperate attempt to itch the pulsating sensation between your legs, the bundle of nerves you eventually pressed on in your sleep made you whimper softly, the pleasurable feeling intensifying the more you rubbed yourself.

This was the second time Jeno had unmercilessly plagued your dreams again — like an incubus haunting you in your sleep, but in the end, he gives you what you desire — to come so hard you thought you’d black out.

You’ve never even drawn yourself to that type of high before you even knew who he was, but after what happened in the car, you couldn’t help but think of how good it would be to have him fuck you instead of your friend.

You did feel guilty for having this type of thoughts about your friend’s own boyfriend, but having him wreck havoc in your head after hours, was mind-numbing, it was almost addicting.

You’ve tried and fought so hard to stop thinking about him, trying to replace his face with someone else like Mark, or even Renjun or some other celebrity you fancied but when you’re just a minute away from reaching your peak, you can’t help but bring him back and let him take over you, his face alone making you come so hard your legs would shake as the raw lust mixed with shame riddled all over your skin.

Tonight was the same, except you were actually in his house and on his bed, touching yourself without any awareness about your surroundings and absolute care in the world, not when you had creeped your finger inside your now wet underwear, intending to finger yourself on your side, but before you could do that, you tucked yourself under the comforter seeking for warmth, back flat on the mattress as you slide your hand back in, moaning at the contact once again, legs propped with your knees bumping against each other as you played with yourself, eyes tightly shut.

“It hurts…” You whimpered lightly, still dreaming as you tilt your head to the side, brows furrowing in frustration. “I need…”

Jeno, who had been sleeping just right beside you, eventually stirred, turning to face you with a sigh, starting to be aware with the noises you were making but thought it was a part of what seemed like a dream for him too so he made no move until you inched closer and closer, now only one move away from touching him.

You’re facing him now, his familiar sweet scent elating your senses, it being the only thing to make you move faster, your middle finger playing with your growing wetness before you eventually slid it in, biting your lip at how tight you felt and wishing it was him doing it for you instead.

“Jeno…” You huff, you free hand snaking under your slip to grope your breast, hissing from how hard your nipples had gotten.

Jeno, now half-asleep, responded with a tired “hmm” as he hovered closer, his hand landing on your hip to pull you closer to him, sealing the small gap between the both of you with his face now resting on the curve of your shoulder.

He hears you purr sweetly, fingering yourself faster when you feel him lay a light kiss on your bare skin, his hand finding your jaw so he can tilt your chin up, kissing you there but deeper.

You didn’t even care anymore. No shame surging through you thinking this was a mere wet dream even if it felt too real, so real you could actually see him in the shadow but because the lights were so dim, you couldn’t make a face but his beautiful scent and warmth was more than enough.

You just needed to feel him, have him ruin you more just like how he does in your dreams.

“Aren’t you tired?” He whispered huskily, realizing you were fingering yourself when he circled his own around your wrist, stopping you. “What are you doing?”

“I want…” You mumbled, distress coating your tone when he yanked your hand from your underwear ever so gently. “I want to cum…”

“Want to?” he cooed, keeping his eyes close as he parted his lips open to suck your slick arousal from your fingers, earning another moan from you before he let you grab him on the shoulder, his own hand now snaking inside your underwear.

“Fuck, just-just put it in, please…” You begged, circling your arms around his neck as you lifted your leg, resting it on his hip.

You hear him hum, the deep rumble of it making your head go numb.

He wasted no time, pleased with your whines when he slid his finger inside your soaked pussy, fingering you slowly until you found yourself in a verge of breaking out of a sob, your knuckles turning white on his shoulder as he fucked you faster and harder at your request, fully attentive with the way you were squeezing him, sucking him further into your throbbing cunt, making him go crazy for how increasingly wet you’ve become.

“J-jeno!”

You half-screamed, back arching as he hovered on top of you, his head disappearing on the crook of your neck to kiss you right there before you feel his teeth bite the strap of your slip, yanking it down your shoulders.

He was going way faster now, fingers curving up to rammed on your sweet spot as you struggled under him, thighs closing tightly around his flexed arm just when you’re about to reach your peak.

“Don’t you want to come?” He smiled sleepily, sucking your left nipple with so much want it only drove you closer to your orgasm. “If you’re a good girl, you will, won’t you?”

It was scary how it feel too damn real — you could even hear him up close and personal and it was too overwhelming, but you couldn’t open your eyes, not wanting this dream to ever end, not when he’s about to make you cum so hard like this.

So you pushed through it, the lewd squelching of your wetness from him fucking into you the only thing you could hear, his equally pleased moans gracing your ears when you tell him you’re almost there.

“Fuck, fuck…fuck! I’m,” You cried, shaking violently as you finally snapped, hands flying on his in an attempt to stop him from fingering you in a brutal pace but he didn’t allow you.

Instead, he forced you to ride through it all as you cursed, head thrown back until you began sob from overdrive, thrashing and squirming under him only to make him pin your arms above your head, your slip pulled all the way to your neck, letting him feel your bare skin, your underwear being torn by him, tossing it on the marbled floors.

“I’m fucking you.” He growled, eyes parting slightly, unable to see you fully but the feeling of having you all naked and weak under him made him a little crazy. He wasn’t even sure if this was just a dream anymore, but he had his own personal desires needed to be taken care of. “You’ll let me, right?”

“Please…” You begged as he lifted your dress all the way to your face, turning it into a blindfold causing you to spread your legs wider for him, too aroused with the way he was trying to limit your senses. “Fuck… just do whatever you want, please…use..use me…”

“Can you even take me?” He smirked, tracing small kisses from your jaw all the way to your sternum as your breath hitched. “You’re this desperate, huh?”

You hear him unbuckle his belt as you begged, wanting him to give it to you already, afraid that this dream might come into an end.

“Please, Jeno…”

“Sounds better when you say it like that…”

He sighed, giving himself a few generous strokes before you felt the tip of his hard cock rub your pussy, giving you a few jabs before he slowly slipped inside you just halfway, wanting you to get used to his size so he waits for a tap which came just a few moments later, and gives it to you, a matching lustful moan being knocked out from yours and his.

“So b-big…”

You grabbed his biceps as he held his breath, trying his best not to fuck you like a wild animal for how amazingly tight and warm you felt around him, squeezing around him repeatedly, almost drawing him to the edge.

“Your pussy can take it…” He whispered, fucking into you slowly. “If I fuck you like this, you’ll take it…and if I go faster?”

“Ah!” You cried as he snapped his hips into you, the wetness of your pussy coating his entire cock, drawing him deeper into your cunt. “Don’t stop… fuck, f-fuck feels so good, so so good.”

“I know, baby…” He hissed vehemently, face buried into the crook of your neck as you let him fuck you faster, the slightly deep baritone of your tone intensifying the fact that he wants to ruin you, even if this wasn’t reality because god knows what he will do it had been, but for some reason, he didn’t felt any type of shame if this wasn’t a dream— just the carnal desire he felt for you, the girl who seemed to hate him for no valid reason.

You clutched the sheets as he pistons in and out of you, ultimately driving the both of you to each other’s peak.

He doesn’t let you touch him, his hand fixed to your wrists on top of your head as your jaw went slack, breath hitching as your legs trembled, alerting him that you were there.

“Fuck, spread your legs wider.” He demanded through gritted teeth, strong thighs stuttering against yours as you obediently did what he asked. “That’s it, pretty girl.”

It didn’t take long when the two of you finally came, you being the first to snap as he followed-through just a few seconds later, pulling out of you so he can cum on his bed sheet instead.

You immediately fell asleep right after, smiling through it all just like he did, the looming taste of regret awaiting to ruin everything in the morning.

Or would it?

//

You awoke to an unfamiliar bed, already panicking upon finding out you’ve been sleeping in his room the entire time so you quickly pad down the silent hall, disappearing inside your own room with a huff.

You ignore the throbbing headache in your head as sat on your bed, a little shaken and not knowing to go about explaining what just happened if he was aware of it, but you think he’s not even home or if he was, did he end up sleeping elsewhere?

You grabbed your crewneck and fixed yourself in front of the mirror, about to head downstairs and find him when you feel something odd, so you lift the hem of your dress, discovering that you didn’t even have an underwear on.

The memory of him taking it off you haunted your train of thought — last night felt too raw, too real and you think it maybe because you’re starting to be delusional, using the advantage of staying in his house and touch his stuff that weren’t yours.

You assume this might have catered to it all and you weren’t even sure if that’s something to be happy or angry about.

You figured it wasn’t — in fact, it was too wrong and you wanted out so you immediately text Tony for an update before heading downstairs to find Jeno.

Jeno, you learn, was not alone.

It was a Saturday after all, and he happens to be on the phone by the living room, his full attention watching the glowing fireplace in front of him, energy drink on-hand as your friend darted from the kitchen, immediately seeing you.

“Oh, she’s up!” She announced, running to hug you with a beam. “Jina and I are going to get our nails done and she’s picking me up, you wanna come?”

“Oh, um… that’s okay.” You falter as Jeno turned to look at you, gaze unreadable. “I’m leaving soon anyway, like going back to my place.”

“Oh! Well maybe next time? Jeno is leaving soon too but won’t be dropping me off. Jeno, help her okay?”

You avoid the way he’s looking at you now, quite embarrassed with the fact that you literally just slept in his bed and even dreamed of him fucking you. You just hoped he had no idea, and if he did know, you knew you couldn’t bear to show face any longer.

“I’ll plan us another date. Just you and I. I promise!”

You let your friend drag you to the entrance and albeit dazed from the unholy thoughts you were suddenly having about Jeno, you managed to brush it off and watch your friend leave, waving her a small good-bye, the guilt surging through you once again after seeing her.

You were just about to lock the door when you feel him hover behind you, the hairs on the back of your neck raising at the sound of his deep voice invading your cloud of thoughts.

“I’m gone for one night and you’re suddenly touching stuff that aren’t yours?”

So he did know. But does he know?

“I’m sorry…” You exhale, sighing regretfully but refused to look at him in the eye. “Got a little drunk then looked for the bathroom—“

“See… that wasn’t the only thing I’m upset about though.”

You gulped as you feel him walk closer so you slowly back away, the shocked gasp leaving your lips as you feel the pressure of the door behind you, him towering over you now.

“What?”

“Do you know what I’m talking about?” He questioned, a little on edge. “Don’t act dumb now.”

“I said I was drunk and I’m sorry.” You apologized sincerely, the overwhelming silence skyrocketing your anxiety. “If there was any damage—”

“No, that’s not…” You hear him chuckle as he drove his hand to the door, cornering you like a predator, but you remain still, stopping yourself from looking up or it was going to over. “Do I have to explain?”

“I don’t…”

“You don’t care about your friend, do you?”

Your eyes rounded in shock, immediately tilting your chin up so you can look at him in the eye this time, suddenly angry at his accusation.

“What made you say that?” You snapped, watching him shake his head in amusement but you weren’t buying it. “Jeno.”

“You’re something else.” He whispered softly, eyes searching something in yours before you feel him inch closer to your ear, his lips brushing across the shell of your ear. “You’re insane. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“Jeno, what the fuck?”

You pushed him off you but he could only laugh, head tilting to the side, a smirk now evident on his face.

He was too handsome, it almost drove you nuts if it wasn’t for the way he just insulted you.

“Guess I’d be the first but don’t worry, I’m not that angry, you know?”

You clenched your jaw, watching him advance to you again with an intent to pin you against the door.

“You’re full of shit. I don’t even know what the hell you’re talking about when all I’ve done is —”

“We fucked.” He sighed, reeling closer when you clamped your mouth shut, looking away from him. “Why, you thought you were dreaming?”

“You’re joking.”

“See, I’d like to think I was. The whole time I thought the same until I find you in my bed in the morning.”

You faltered, unable to think straight when you feel him trace the outline of your jaw, grabbing you by the chin gently to make you shift your attention back to him.

“Jeno.”

“You said my name too. Just like this.” His darkened gaze pierced yours, pupils blown. “You like me that much?”

“We can’t do this.” You grab his wrist, pushing him away with a huff. “It was a mistake!”

“I’d like to think the same but for some reason…” He took another step, completely caging you in just like you were always meant to be for him. “You’re fucking everything up.”

“How is that my fault —”

“You should’ve pursued me first, that’s all.”

Your eyes widen as he cradled your face, drawing you completely speechless.

Turns out, he was crazier, even more sinister with the way he’s touching you so inappropriately right now you feel like pushing him off and running out to escape but you simply couldn’t. You knew you wanted him too even if you shouldn’t.

Not when the damage has already been done, and you’ve opened a pandora box, unleashing his hidden desires on board with yours, the sinful thoughts you’ve been trying so hard to seal away for no one to figure out.

“You don’t give a fuck about her?” You swallowed a lump in your throat, a pained expression on your face as he kept up with his ministrations, his hand now holding yours. “Why are you touching me…”

“I like you.” He confesses with a shrug like it was something so simple to do, his piercing gaze meeting yours again. “You think I’m into your friend?”

“You’re sick.”

You say through gritted teeth, raw anger still there but the more you allowed him to stare you down like this, the more it dissipated. The desperate hold you had around it vanishing to thin air.

“And you think you’re not?”

There was that same fiery edge to his tone now, his grip around your hand tightening. You try to break free from his grasp until you hear his phone ring. You were just about to use that as way to completely push him away, but he cut you off, demanding you to stay still.

“We’re not done.”

You watch him answer the call, fear on your eyes when you discovered it as your friend asking if he could pass the phone over to you just because you weren’t answering yours.

“Talk to her.” He demanded, his stern tone sending shivers all over your body when you placed his phone near your ear.

“Hey,” You greeted your friend, trying to sound as normal as you could before shying away from the way Jeno’s eyeing you right now. “Was in the shower. What’s up?”

You let your friend take-over, asking if you wanted anything from a specific shop near the nail salon she was in and had been trying so hard to get your mind out of the gutter for the past minute that seemed to flow by in forever. You found yourself stuck in the middle — part of you wanted to tell her about what you did just like that no matter what the consequences were but the other half simply haunted you, did you really want to stop? When the guilt should be burning you alive right now but for some reason, you hardly felt anything and you weren’t sure what to make of that.

“You don’t care about your friend, do you?”

“The one with stars is cute but you don’t have to— it’s okay,” You shook your head, completely missing the fact that Jeno had gotten even closer. You catch on to him before he lowers his head to the side of your face, about to murmur something.

“Stop.” With the phone away from your lips, you attempt to get away but he only holds you still, hand fixed to the curve of your waist. “Jeno—”

“Just tell me the details later!” Your friend squealed over the phone. “And tell Jeno to read my text!”

The call ended just before you could utter something but the phone from your hand was snatched away in a millisecond, suddenly finding yourself gasping when Jeno placed his knee in between your thighs, feeling you up with his clothed knee, his hand now groping your breast.

“Quit it, won’t you?” You bit your lip, hand fisting his top as he placed an open-mouthed kiss on your collarbone. “You want to run away so bad but I can see it in your eyes. You want this as much as I do so don’t lie to yourself.”

“Jeno, stop,” You begged, arousal already pulling in your underwear when he forced you to grind down on his thigh, holding all your weight up alone with just that alone. “Jeno…”

“I’ll let you go f that’s what you want.” He grunted as you began to grind on him, growing more aroused with the way you were whining, struggling on his thigh. He challenged you, even if he knew you wouldn’t be able to resist all of this.

Resist him.

You whimpered as he removed his thigh between your legs, letting you off but you don’t make a move.

“You want to go?” You could only gaze back at him, completely in trance as he grinned down at you, his sardonic expression reeling you in. “Then go.”

It didn’t take long until you finally snapped altogether, crashing yourself to him to latch your lips on his in sheer frustration, an audible groan coming from him as he nibbled your bottom lip, lifting you up, hands all over your body.

Sooner or later, you found yourselves in bed, having to have exhausted each other but there were no words shared after it all.

You weren’t even sure what to do next as you laid there beside him, watching him sleep on his back, head turned away from yours. It was then you felt your heart crumble into pieces, the immense jolt of pain suddenly waking you up from trance.

Do I really want to do this?

You left the next morning just like that, not wanting to pursue this wrong deed at all, and without a word other as you hailed a taxi. You deleted and blocked his phone number and made a plan to somehow try to avoid him and your friend for the next few months, but it wasn’t simple like that, and yet, you tried to stay away.

For the next six months, it was like that — with you and your friend slowly falling apart because you no longer shared classes for second semester and you made no amends to even see or spend time with her, having to have met other friends you shared classes with and then her, with the boys and their girls.

You were also thankful of Jeno not pursuing anything with you too. You barely saw him around due to the fact that he did sign up for more sport-related activities so naturally, he disappeared from your sight. He must have thought that it was clearly a mistake just like you did, and you fought to repent for your sins and you wished he did too.

You didn’t keep track about anything that had to do with them anymore and decided to focus on your studies like you’ve always had from the beginning to prepare yourself for graduation and university requirements. Your great efforts did pay off in the end, having to graduate with almost on top of all your classes and getting into one of your top three universities.

Life seemed great for you — quite elated for the next journey you’re bound to go on for the next two years now that senior year was over and so was the evening dinner you had to attend because it was mandatory despite wanting to opt out of it but you made sure to leave early as you had no plans to sit in the fancy banquet of a five-star hotel and “get entertained” when everyone either sat around to chill or lose themselves in the dimmed down dance floor.

By 11 pm, you bid your goodbyes to a panel of teachers, one of them being your favourite, just in the next room in the hall, then gunned down to the parking lot where you parked your car.

You dug your keys in your purse, humming to yourself when you spot someone’s slick black shoes right next to your car so you stop and blink, shifting your attention the wide plain of his familiar broad back, his white dress shirt being the only article of clothing he has on with some tailored black plants that probably cost five months worth of rent.

“Jeno.”

“Nice ride you got.” He drew the cigarette away from his lips, grey smoke hitting your face as you slowly took a step back, unable to form any coherent sentence upon realizing that he’s standing before you now. “New model too. Gift, maybe?”

You do know you’ve been trying to avoid him.

As much as you tried however, he was there, always in a crowd and you never missed a handsome face like his. He burned in the back of your head so easily, but it was too difficult to get him out no matter how many distractions you could come with, and even if most of it worked in your favour he still lived inside your head like a parasite.

A parasite you may never end up getting rid of.

“I’m going home.” Was all you said, trying to stay stoic and unaffected as he advanced to you, even more irresistable now that he’s worked out more and grew his hair a little longer, a strand from his gelled back fringe curving on his forehead and it did nothing but clench your jaw.

He was just too handsome, you were close to believing no one would be able to resist him at all, not even the new arm candy he brought as a date to dinner since your he has apparently broken up with your friend a month before graduation due to a sudden drastic change in her family’s living situation.

You soon find out she was never coming back, and apparently “long distance relationships” wasn’t Jeno’s thing.

“This early?”

There was a coy smirk on his face, cigarette resting between his lips. You stood there, liking the smell, reminding you of your father back home so naturally, you stayed where you are, feet starting to hurt from the five inch heels you regretfully wore to dinner.

“Yeah, I have work the next morning.”

He’s one step away from you now, his full attention scanning your red dress from head to toe, liking the tight fit around your soft curves. You try to stand your ground anyway, albeit about to burst into shivers from the way he narrowed his eyes to you now, blowing another puff of grey you ended up inhaling into your system as well for how damn close he’s gotten, invading your comfort zone.

“That’s a shame.” He circled around you like some sort of a predator, but without touching you until you feel him stop just inches away, his hard chest brushing against your back. “Well go on, your car is right there.”

Your breath hitched as you began to walk to your car, unlocking the back door to throw your purse into with a slam. You don’t say anything as you placed your hand on the handle, chewing on your lips as he quirked an eyebrow, wanting to know what seemed to make you look a little stressed and all tensed up.

“Your date.” You slowly met his amused gaze. “How long?”

“Didn’t sleep with her if that’s what you were wondering.” You didn’t even want to lie — the wave of relief crashed through you, engulfing you in so you let go of the handle and headed to him, letting your burning desire drag you all the way to his arms as he pulled you into a suffocating embrace. “I knew you couldn’t resist me.”

Jeno flung his cigarette off his lips to kiss you hungrily causing you to moan in his mouth, tasting the peppermint candy he’s had and the slight bitterness from the cigarette but you didn’t care.

You didn’t care until he threw you in your backseat, ripping your underwear off you so easily and gave it to you right there and then, until you were in a verge of tears, unable to think straight as you moaned his name all over again like some sort of a mantra, dragging the both of you into eternal hell.

And to hell with him it is.

[fairyhaos]

. ˚ love at second sight

pairing: non-idol!junhui x gn!reader

genre: fluff, meet cute, non-idol setting, libraries

word count: 1823

warnings: none

notes: the junhui brainrot from earlier was so strong that i ended up writing a whole entire fic for him. enjoy!

summary: it's a quiet, peaceful day at the library, and even though the person you meet is anything but quiet or peaceful, he makes you begin to wonder whether those cheesy scenarios in books can, sometimes, be real.

You don’t believe in love at first sight.

How does that even happen, anyway? How can you look at someone for the first time and immediately think that you’re in love? Personally, you think that sounds incredibly shallow, because if you’re falling in love with someone you’ve only just seen, then it’s mostly likely that you’re falling in love with the way they look.

That’s what’s on your mind as you’re walking to the library that afternoon, to return a book that you hadn’t particularly enjoyed reading. The female protagonist had fallen in love way too fast with the male love interest who, in your opinion, was far too toxic and problematic.

The library is relatively empty when you walk inside, only a few people milling about around the shelves. There rarely ever were many people here, anyway, and it was one of the reasons you loved the library. The peace. The calm. The lack of other humans. 

Leisurely, you browse the shelves, looking for something different to read. Something more light-hearted with a sensible protagonist who is able to see red flags.

You duck into another shelf, fingers trailing wood, dark and shiny under your fingers. You smile a little as you get to one author, trailing the book spines with your fingers. You’ve read almost everything by them, you recall, recognition lighting up as you read all of the book titles. As a child, their books were your favourite. Abruptly, you stop at one series, eyes widening.

“No way,” you whisper to yourself, looking at the book.

This is incredible. The author, the one that you’d loved, had one series which had always remained unfinished by one book. They’d always said they’d get back to it someday, and as you look at the last book of the series on the shelf, the spine unbroken and brand new, you can’t help but marvel at their determination to finish the series.

You have to read this.

As you reach out for the book, a hand comes up beside you and grabs the spine just as your fingers land on it.

“Mine,” you automatically say, and the person next to you laughs.

You look to your side, and suddenly your heart floats up and lodges itself in your throat. This person… this man… well, he’s just gorgeous.

This mysterious man with his hand on your book just grins, and the first thing you notice is that he has a little mole next to his lips, and on his cheek, and for some reason it makes him look even more attractive.

“Hmm, no, I think it’s mine,” he says, still grinning, and you snap back to the task at hand. No. You need this book.

“I touched it first,” you shoot back.

He shakes his head vigorously. "No, it was me."

"No, me!"

You go back and forth like that several times, and honestly it's incredibly childish, but you are determined to take this book and read it, even if it means resorting to childish arguments. 

"It's mine," you say firmly, attempting to wrap your hand more securely around the spine of the book, but then he steps closer to you and now, your heart is no longer in your throat but seems to have disintegrated entirely.

"No, it's mine," he says back, voice low, and it makes your breath stutter. 

You back away as he steps closer, and now he has you practically pressed against the bookshelf, eyes bright and teasing. He’s not actually touching you but the proximity is heart-fluttering and he looks like he knows that, because one minute both of your hands are on the book and next, your grip has loosened and it’s firmly in his.

And then he’s stepping away and you can breathe again, but you’re breathing very annoyedly because he’s grinning down at your book and damn why does his jawline look so good?

“Hey,” you protest. “That’s not fair.”

He looks up at you, tilting his head innocently. “What’s not fair?”

“You… What you just did.” You frown, crossing your arms, and you kind of want to pout like a little kid but that's probably taking it a step too far. “That wasn’t fair. Come on, please, I’m literally this writer’s biggest fan. I’ve read all their books, like hundreds of times, and this is the brand new book of the series they started ages ago that they always—”

“—promised that they’d come back to eventually,” the man finishes, eyebrows raised in surprise. “You do know their work.” He looks at you for a long, long moment, before nodding. “Okay. What’s your name?”

“What?”

“Your name,” he repeats. “I’ll tell you mine. I’m Junhui.”

Junhui? Now that you look at him, you recognise that he does indeed look like a Junhui, which explains why his accent was so soft when he was speaking. You consider against giving your own name for a moment, because stranger danger and all that, before ultimately deciding that you’re probably never going to see him again, so it doesn’t really matter.

“Y/N,” you tell him, and he nods.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” Junhui smiles, dazzling, and he’s so handsome that your head starts to spin. And then he shifts the book into one hand, and the dazzling smile morphs into an almost comical look of concentration on his face as he holds out his hand. “Now. Rock paper scissors to see who gets the book.”

You gape, utterly confused. You’ve only just met this man, and he’s making you feel far too many emotions. “You really want to decide the fate of this book on a game of rock paper scissors?”

Junhui just shrugs, fist still outstretched. “Do you have a better idea?”

You don’t, and you've basically been engaging in stupidly childish warfare for this book already anyway, so you just silently hold out your fist too. It’s then that it occurs to you that you’re in a library, and you two have probably been a little loud. It’s a good thing the library is so empty.

Then, you’re both mouthing the words silently, and you pull out scissors, and he presents his hand in a fist before unfurling it into the paper position a beat later. It’s obvious that he was cheating to let you win, but this means that you get to have the book, and he’s smiling at you so sweetly that you can’t help but let him.

“Oh no, I lost,” he says, and something about the way he says it makes you laugh, and he’s grinning too, shushing you. “Go on. Take it.”

You take the book from him, grateful. “Thank you, Junhui. Are you sure, though? I can always just come back another time if you want to read it first…”

“No, no, don’t worry about it,” he assures you. “In fact, that’s not the book I want to read at all. I came here to get…” He picks up a random book off the opposite shelf, squinting at the title. “...’The Song of… A Chills’?”

You stifle a laugh behind your hand, watching him struggle with the unfamiliar word. “Achilles.”

“Exactly. I love this book.” He grins back at you, and he looks so devastatingly adorable and handsome all at once. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen anyone manage to do both at the same time. You’re not sure you ever will.

You shake your head, smiling. “If you say so.”

He salutes you with two fingers, grasping the random book he’d picked up. “Have fun reading, Y/N,” he says, “and tell me how it goes—wait, no, don’t tell me how it goes, I don’t want spoilers.”

That makes you chuckle, and he’s grinning too, giving you one last wave before disappearing behind the shelves.

You leave the library that afternoon, your precious book in your arms, a smile on your face. That’s probably the most interesting first encounter you’ve had with someone, ever. Junhui was just so… interesting.

Oh well. You shake your head. It’s not like you're ever going to see him again, anyway.

————————————— 📜

You see Junhui again not even a week later, in the library just like last time.

Sometimes, you come out into the library to study, because the relaxed ambience of the place makes you feel as if you study much better, surrounded by the sounds of paper rustling and the warm colour of wood and the distinct smell of books. It’s calming here. 

You don't have your headphones on, comforted by the quiet atmosphere of the library, and when someone pulls up a chair on your study table opposite you, you look up instantly. 

And there, you're greeted with Junhui's grinning face, and the first thing you register is that he's still as gorgeous as he'd looked the first time you'd locked eyes with him. Which, ew, that was cringey. But it's still so, so true. 

The next thing you register is that he has his fist held out in 'rock paper scissors' position. 

Without thinking, you automatically hold out your hand, and his scissors cut through your paper. 

"I win," he declares, proud. 

"What was that for?" You're smiling at him, endeared, because he just looks so pleased with himself and honestly it's really cute. 

"Nothing," he says, and you see that he actually has 'The Song of Achilles' with him. Looks like he ended up really reading it after all. "But you won last time. I wanted to win, at least once."

You blink, a few times, because the words 'you've already won my heart' are flashing inside your head and you have no idea how that happened or when that happened and you definitely do not want to say that out loud. 

"I see," is what you say instead, and Junhui nods vigorously in agreement like a child. 

He grins. "How is your studying going? You doing anything important?"

"Oh…" You look down at your laptop and all your notes laid out in front of you. "Studying for finals, actually."

He winces. "Ooh, good luck."

"Thank you."

You lapse into silence again as he picks up his book and starts reading, but oddly, it's a comfortable silence. Which is strange, because you've only met Junhui once before. And yet, you're already able to be so comfortable in each other's presence. 

Thinking back to your first encounter, you think of that horrible book you'd been returning on that day. You tilt your head contemplatively. 

You still don't believe in love at first sight. But love at second sight? 

You look over at Junhui, who's diligently reading his book opposite you, still sitting at your table when he could have totally moved to the comfy reading seats that the library offers. As if sensing your stare, he looks up at you, lips curving into a sweet smile. 

It makes you flush, smiling back shyly. 

Well. Perhaps you believe in love at second sight. 

[yoonia]

the bedroom hymns ● chapter xvi

⟶ Chapter summary | The many layers of mysteries that are present in the home castle are beginning to feel daunting. But the biggest mystery of all may have been about your magic. After your last encounter with Yoongi and finding yourself in a predicament which further questions the secret behind your family’s magic, you try to find ways to find your own solutions to grow stronger, to gain control of your magic, only to constantly being face with one obstacle after another. 

⟶ Title | The Bedroom Hymns: a Bluebeard’s twist ⟶ Pairings | Min Yoongi x female reader  ⟶ Genre | Fairy Prince!Yoongi, Crown Princess!reader, Fantasy AU, Fairy Tale retelling ⟶ Word count | 5,406 words ⟶ Ratings | PG-13, +18 / M for Mature for future chapters; include mentions of medical terms, fantasy magic and spells.  ⟶ Story Masterlist: The Bedroom Hymns | ⤎ previous chapter | next chapter ⇢ ⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Taglist | Feedback | Music Playlist | Ko-fi

⟶ Author’s Note | It took me a while to finish this part, so forgive me for my absence. I’m splitting what was supposed to be the filler in chapter 16 into two separate chapters because there’s going to be a lot of information dump happening and I don’t want to confuse everyone. So please don’t be surprised with the short chapter(s) coming. Thank you for your patience and have fun reading! [Ps. This is highly unedited so I’m sorry if there’s any mistake]

chapter xvi. respite

Quite some time has passed since the first time you began using the magic portals, long since you have arrived in this castle and learned about the existence of magic in this realm, and you are slowly beginning to notice the changes happening with your body. 

It seems to you that the more you are using the portals, the easier your body becomes affected by their magic. Just as how you seem to be getting more sensitive to the flow of magic that is a part of the portals. 

Returning from Grimm had costed you quite a predicament. Once again, the journey had drained your energy that you slept through the night and nearly woke up late the next morning after your return. Even the palace maids who have been tending to your needs since the day you came to the castle had become so concerned, thinking that perhaps you have gone ill.

It wasn’t until later in the evening when you figured out the reason why you have been feeling a deep fatigue coursing through your body each time you returned from your excursions. Not until the moment the royal physician was brought to see you after a full day of being listless, with barely any energy for you to have a meal. 

The royal physician took his time examining your body thoroughly, yet once he deliberated his assessment, you were quickly taken by surprise, not expecting to hear him talk about your mana and how it had everything to do with the reason why you were feeling sluggish and drained. 

“It seems to me that you have exhausted your mana. Have you perhaps been using it excessively as of late, Your Highness?”  

“I—no, not that I recall. I haven’t done much but study with my tutor and keep myself busy with royal duties,” you simply answered as you laid back against the pillows, refraining from admitting openly that you hadn’t even begun training on how to wield your magic, much less to start getting to know about it at all. 

You had no idea how much most of the people within the home castle have learned about you, or if any of them ever knew anything about your previous life at all. Particularly about your life back at The Citadel, back in the human realm where magic didn’t exist. You also had no idea if there was anyone within the castle who may have learned about the family’s magic and the responsibility that had been placed upon you to protect the secret behind the magic.

A part of you wished that you could have said something about it. Because maybe then you could find someone to help you solve the things you had wished to know. To find someone to confide in. 

Someone who belonged in the castle, who was trusted by the King himself, instead of confiding to a member of the mercenary army suspected to pose a threat to the empire. 

Shaking your head, you forced yourself to stop thinking about this—to stop thinking just how dependent you were becoming to the handsome and mysterious stranger that you probably shouldn’t trust—just as the royal physician shared with you another theory while being oblivious to your trailing thoughts.  

“Then perhaps your body is having problems adjusting to the castle. The magic barrier that His Majesty, The King, has placed here is quite strong. It must have been draining your energy as you come in contact with it, or—” the physician stopped himself as he deliberated the issue further while rubbing at his chin. But then he suddenly started shaking his head, as if brushing away those thoughts with his lips curling downward in displeasure. 

“No,” he began wondering to himself, brushing away whatever thought crossing through his mind as he murmured, “I doubt that His Majesty’s magic would feed on your mana. The barrier surrounding the castle would require a power source, but I can’t see anyone else other than His Majesty who would be powerful enough to provide such energy.” 

That can happen? You couldn’t help but wonder. Has your father’s magic been feeding on your mana? 

But that sounds—so terribly wrong.

Just as these thoughts continued to run rampant in your head, a faint tingle ran through your forearm while you were being examined, and you couldn’t help but remember how similar it felt to the sensation coursing through you whenever you walked through the magic portals. 

Had it really been the reason? Have you been right for thinking that perhaps the magic portals have been draining your mana, your energy, feeding off your magic that had been lying dormant within you? 

Is this why Father had insisted that I only use the portal only once a day and not more, and to not stay any longer than the time limit that he had given? 

Or had it been the other way around? What if it has always been my mana which activated those portals, while the keys have only been the medium to help open the doors? 

Clearing his throat, the royal physician brought your attention back to him as he gently reassured you, “I will leave you with some remedy and a special potion to help strengthen your mana and help you rest for the night until your body recovers enough. I will also leave a list of nutritions that could be added to your meal. It may help you heal faster if your body receive the proper sustenance needed for your recovery. I shall leave it in the hands of your personal maids so they could hand them to the royal chef.” 

Your mind was still stuck in his previous comment and your own assessment of the condition that you found yourself in that you barely paid attention to his words, although you were still able to answer him with a soft murmur, “Thank you, Sir.” 

The physician said nothing else after. “In the meantime, please don’t strain yourself too much, Your Highness. You have quite a delicate constitution which may require a lot of care,” he inquired, before softly adding, “I am sure that His Majesty would prefer that you take care of yourself well until he returns home.”  

You said nothing other than gratitude to the royal physician as he made his leave, allowing you some privacy and enough time to have your much-needed rest. Yet the silence that you were left with couldn’t stop you from spending the night wondering, thinking back to everything that he said; about your mana being drained without you realising it. 

Looking down at your hands as you kept them rested on your lap, you slowly opened your palms. There hadn’t been enough books in the library that could have given you any clue on how to make use of your mana and practice your magic. 

You could only figure this out simply because you had tried to look. Out of all the magic books that you had been digging into in the library outside of your tutoring hours, you had found little to nothing that was written about any magic that may conjure portals. At the very least, nothing that seemed similar to the magic that your father had cast in these portals. 

And there had been nothing other than the old scriptures you found about ancient fairies and their ability to move between space and time that sounded similar to those portals. Although there were mentions of these ancient beings traveling to many different parts of the realm, even crossing between realms. 

But what if there was something in those scriptures that could explain about the source of your father’s magic? Had there been something in those texts that you had missed? 

That night, as you slowly drifted into sleep under the effect of the potion that had been given by the physician, you made a promise to yourself to return to those scriptures and learn more about the magic that was written in them. You fell asleep that night feeling hopeful, determined to find the roots of your father’s magic. 

Perhaps, with a little more digging, you would find the reason why he had left you with such a huge responsibility of keeping this magic as a secret, while setting things in motion to have you venturing into those portals and to walk across the parts of the world hidden behind them so blindly.  

Perhaps, you could also find the answer to one of the biggest secrets that he has been keeping from you and everyone else for years. 

The secrets about your mother. 

“I might have to show it to you to prove it…”

Yoongi’s voice echoes through your mind as if it bounces against the invisible walls standing all around you. 

The words that he gave you seems to have been engraved in your memory ever since the day you met him in Grimm, and they keep haunting you both in your dreams and during your waking hours. It has been a couple of days since, yet it still feels like yesterday when you parted ways with Yoongi in the dark forest of Grimm. 

Since then, you have been overcome with a deep feeling of regret. 

The regret for not being able to have more time to spend with him. The regret of not being able to catch his sight, to be completely helpless as you watch him getting swallowed under the thick foliage, held back by fear that had a tight grip in your chest. 

And you also feel the regret that always comes to haunt you whenever you recall about the offer that he made that day. When he reached out to you, offering to assist you in learning more about your magic. You hate thinking that you might have missed out on a chance to figure out your magic. 

But it couldn’t be helped, after all, when your father’s voice—repeating the same words and warnings about how important it was to keep the family’s magic a secret—kept echoing through your head while you were staring at Yoongi’s extended hand which he offered you that day. You had felt the itch to reach out to him, to accept his hand, even if it was only for the sake of feeling the gentle touch of his fingers on yours instead of actually having him help awaken the magic that was lying dormant inside you. 

Yet you just couldn’t do it. 

And now you are left with the constant wonderings—all the what ifs and what could haves—while the long list of regrets that are still lingering with you becomes the reason why you keep seeing in in your dreams. 

The dreams are never the same. 

In one dream, you recounted the moment you refused his offer. Only this time, you had stepped away from him at the tavern, choosing to end your time together earlier than what you had intended to so you could escape his attentive eyes. In another, you haven’t even heard the same words spoken by Yoongi before his image vanished right in front of your eyes. 

But there was one particular dream that appeared so vividly that you continued to see it even during the daytime, taking over your idle mind with his presence as if you were taken back to that moment, when you sat right across from him with his deep, unwavering gaze locked on yours.

“I might have to show it to you to prove it…”

You never truly understood what he meant by saying those words, but in this dream of yours, none of it mattered. And your father’s voice hadn’t been there to stop you from leaning forward at the table to give him your rapt attention. Your mind was also silent, and the thunderous sound of your heartbeat faded away when you spoke to him, 

“How?” 

“Give me your hand.” 

Time seemed to remain still as you reached out to him, giving him your hand. You barely touched the tips of his fingers when something magical happened; as a bright sparks of silver dust light up between both of your hands, with specks of blue dust erupting the moment you made contact with his skin, and the same tingling sensation that you had often felt from the portals came surging through your arms before settling inside your chest. 

Before your mind could ever make sense of what was happening, the light only grew brighter, and everything faded under its blinding glow which later pulled you away from the dream. And as you slowly woke up, finding yourself lying on your bed alone, nothing else remained from the dream, except for the tingles running across your skin which took their sweet time to fade away. 

Stepping out of the treasure room, you clutch the golden pocket watch in your palm, feeling victorious that you finally have it in your hand. 

You had come to the treasure room right before your afternoon lessons with your tutor, hoping that you would be able to find anything that might be useful for your next trip through the portals. Your father had been right, after all, that the treasure room may provide you with anything that you may need to support your daily activities while you adjust with your new life at the castle. 

Like a pocket watch, for example.

Something that is so small and simple, yet crucial for the sake of your safety while you are out there, roaming through any foreign land that the portals are taking you. 

Why have I never thought of this before? 

You cannot help but wonder as you look down at the ticking watch in your hand, regretting that you didn’t think of getting one in the first place. It could have saved you a lot of trouble if you had.

The last couple of trips you made had been risky, as you kept cutting it too close to the time limit that had been given to you by your father, only missing merely minutes or even seconds before the portal started closing behind you after you slipped back through. 

You had nearly gotten into a bigger trouble when you returned from Grimm, almost missing a toe when you barely managed to return to the portal before it closed on you. You blame it to your impulse need of chasing Yoongi into the deep forest when you started to feel like he was slipping away from and disappearing for good. 

It was after that incident when you finally learned your lesson and decided that something needed to change. That you would need something to hold onto which may help you to keep up with the time, instead of simply relying on the signs of dusk as a reminder to let you know when it was time to return home. 

The idea first came to you after observing Lord Gordan, the royal aide and the head butler of the castle, while he was working on his duties. You had often seen him pulling out a golden watch from the pocket of his suit to help him tell the time, and wondered if it would be something that you could make use of.  

After receiving the royal physician’s approval to return to your daily duties this morning, you feel like you are ready to embark on another adventure. With this golden pocket watch in your hand, the magic necklace that had been passed down to you from your late mother, and the dagger hidden under the skirt of your dress, you feel as if you are unstoppable, ready to face anything that may come to your path as you walk through the portal later once your tutoring hours are over. 

Now if you only could just find a way to calm the restless thrums of your heartbeat inside your tight chest, then everything would be well. That is all that you could only hope for, at the very least, as you make your way to your tutoring lesson.

Because what better way to find answers other than to gain them straight from the people who are in charge of teaching you everything that is needed to learn as the heir of throne? Who else would know the answers you need, other than your tutors? 

“You want to—” Lady Laurel carefully repeats your question. She is looking slightly wary to even voice it out loud, even if it is just the two of you in the library that her voice is lowered when she continues, “—practice using your magic?”

You have only been away from the library for a couple of days while you were resting, only keeping contact with Lady Laurel by corresponding through letters and the books that she had left behind through your personal maids for you to read. 

Today would be the first day that you are back with your daily lectures. You could tell from the moment you saw Lady Laurel sitting by the study desk in the library as she waited for you to arrive that she had a lot of things planned out to keep you busy for the day. 

But you have come up with your own plan when you marched your way to the library. 

For weeks now, Lady Laurel had filled your private lessons with lectures about the fairy tale land to get you to know this new realm a lot more. So far, you have learned about its history, about the kingdoms and the people, even the non-human beings that you may find should you ever have the chance to visit those lands—elves, fairies, werewolves, even human mages—and you have heard about the real events that are the makings behind all the tales known and shared in the human realm. 

During those long weeks, Lady Laurel had also been teaching you the basic knowledge of magic; the types of magic that you may encounter and each of their origins, the history behind them, and the ancient spells that have been written in the textbooks that you have found in the library during your solo studying. 

She was also the one who first taught you to find a way to identify your mana. 

She had mentioned how it would be helpful in the future should you start using your magic, as you would have become familiar to the mana flowing inside you by the time you begin your magic practices. If only she knew with what you have been doing once you were done with her lessons, how you have been using the theories that she had taught you into practice once you were left on your own. 

There has been nothing much that Lady Laurel could teach you in her lessons other than the ability to reach within, to feel the presence of your magic and have a good grip on it, to recognise it as a part of yourself instead of something that simply appeared in your body overnight. But your solo practices that you have been doing in the shelter of your bedchamber had taken it a step further, enhancing it until you could make use of it to recognise and then respond to the magic that exists around you. 

Just like the way you had used it to respond to the magic in the portals and to recognise Yoongi’s inner mana. 

Yet that is just as far as both of you could get. You could tell that there are restrictions that your tutors would need to follow when they are guiding you through your lessons. Because not once had she ever tried to do more; whether it was to help you unleash the magic inside you, nor to use it by conjuring the magic for a purpose. 

But you want more. You have been ready for more. And after your last encounter with Yoongi, you have gained the courage to express your desire to learn how to properly use your magic more actively. To learn how to expel its powers and make use of it for your own benefit. 

And that is exactly what you said to your tutor the moment you joined her at the library’s study area, as you were taking the seat right across from her as you usually would during your tutoring hours. 

Keeping your eyes on Lady Laurel, you try to gauge her reaction. Even from the moment you had first thought of bringing this up to her, you had expected to have an intense response from her, and for her to straight up refuse your request. 

And you have been prepared to deal with whatever the outcome may be, knowing that you are not going to back down that easily.

“Yes, that is exactly what I said,” you answer her with your chin raised, feeling determined about taking the next step into learning how to use your magic. “I want you to teach me how to unlock my magic and help me practice using it, instead of just trying to feel it. Because I already know that it’s there, lying almost dormant inside me without me knowing how to use it to protect the people who are dear to me, which is something that I want to be able to do.”

These thoughts have been running through your head for the past few days while you were being holed up in your bedchamber under the royal physician’s restrictions. The feeling of want and the deep curiosity you have to know more about your magic, to be able to reach within yourself so you could somehow wield it so that you could make good use of it, has been growing stronger that you can no longer deny it. 

That need had been lingering in your thoughts that it was almost impossible for you to remain idle during your bedrest, and you had then taken the risk to secretly try to find ways to unlock your magic on your own.  

You just couldn’t help it, after all. When you had nothing else to fill your time with aside from watching the scenery outside of your windows and reading the pages of your books, until neither could easily calm the havoc happening inside your mind. So you stole the short chances you could get between the hours you were given to rest under the heavy medication and the constant flurry of lady maids coming and going into your room as they attended to your needs. 

Using the vivid images of your dreams, the basic knowledge of magic that you learned through your lectures, and the small facts about your magic that you learned from Yoongi as your guidance, you had spent your quiet nights trying to get in touch with the magic that was believed to be coursing through your body.  

You tried everything you could; from using your necklace to see if it could bring out the mana inside you, to copying Yoongi’s action which you saw in your dreams, by placing your hands together to see if it could bring out your magic.

But no matter how hard you tried to concentrate and tried to cast your magic out through your fingertips, nothing seemed to be happening. Nothing more but a surge of energy crawling its way from your palms, through your fingers, stopping at each tip, before they vanished into your veins. 

And you continued to try, until there was nothing left but the exhaustion rolling through your body and the missing warmth of Yoongi’s hand which your body seemed to have memorised from that day and what you are now craving to feel the most. 

Having to openly ask your tutor for her help had been your last resort, knowing that she has her limits to what kind of guidance that she could offer you in learning about magic. Yet you had every reason to harbour some hope that she would somehow comply with your request. 

Oftentimes, whenever you would try to inquire about any specific theories to learn about during your lectures, Lady Laurel would have embraced it—she has always loved your curiosity and your eagerness to learn—and grabbed any chance that she could have to share any knowledge about the realm that you were still struggling to understand. 

This time, however, she seems uneasy to hear your request. Not because she is reluctant to teach you about magic, as she has been doing so ever since the first day she started her lessons. What seems to make her reluctant about this is the fact that you are asking her to help you learn about your magic. 

With a remorseful sigh, Lady Laurel leans forward in her seat. Reaching out across the desk, she places a gentle grip on your wrist. “Your Highness, I’m sure that you are curious to learn more about your magic,” she begins with a polite smile, “But His Majesty had specifically inquired—” 

Before she can finish her words, you immediately cut her off.

“I know what my father said”—as you have repeatedly said each time I tried to bring this topic up before, you silently wonder with a frown—”but His Majesty has yet to return, while here I am, feeling like my soul is slowly being sucked out of my body without understanding why. Maybe if I could control my magic, things will be different and I’d know how to prevent something like this from happening again.” 

Through the letters that you have been exchanging with your tutor, you had explained everything that the royal physician had relayed on you about your condition. 

At first, you simply mentioned about your draining mana in your letter to try and ask for her opinion to see if this was something that could possibly happen. Without mentioning the secret doors and the magic portals in your letter, you questioned her if there was anything that you may have come in contact with which might be able to drain your mana without you ever realising it. 

The response that you were given with hadn’t been enough to answer your curiosity. But there was something in her letter which caught your attention, when she explained in a rather plain sentence—

“There are certain elements that have been built all over the castle, each one imbued with His Majesty’s magic. Perhaps, with His Majesty being gone, these elements have been trying to find a new source of energy. I have highly suspected that your magic might be similar to that is of the King’s, which made it possible for the energy around you to mistakenly drain your mana to fill whatever they are lacking.”

“You know very well the reason why I would have to refuse taking over your magic training, Your Highness,” Lady Laurel regretfully says as she pulls back. You hate how genuine she seems to be as she is saying all of this, about the regret of not being able to fulfil your wishes, as she is being held under the King’s orders. 

It wouldn’t be until later when you notice the unspoken words hidden perfectly in her response, that she isn’t refusing your request because she isn’t capable of doing so. Because she is capable. But she is also bound under your father’s rules when it comes to your lessons. 

“All I can do without His Majesty’s guidance would be to guide you to become in tune with the mana that you have inside you, preparing you for the actual training that you are about to have under the King’s guidance himself,” she continues, and just like that, she turns to pick up the guidance textbook and the set of candles that she would use during these sessions, ready to start another one of her practices that she has been introducing you as of late. “We can continue to do that today and see how far ahead we can go this time. The last time we did—” 

Once again, you cut off her words before she could finish talking. “The last time we had our lesson, you were helping me identify my mana and how to channel onto it so I could feel its flow inside me.”

And to recognise it without exposing your magic form. Something that you have caught on after a while and seems to be one of the main tasks given to her when your father passed down the duty of tutoring you while he is gone. But you say nothing of this. 

After all, if you are trying to convince her to change her mind and sneak behind the King’s orders to fulfil your wishes, the last thing you should do is to show her that you have figured out all of her cards—the little tricks that she had played to skirt around the subject of your magic. 

You may never figure out the reason behind all the secrecy about the family’s magic, or why your father would prevent anyone from helping you in unlocking your magic without his presence. But oddly enough, the more you think about it, the more you understand why your father would take such measures. 

The magic that he uses to create the portals wouldn’t have been a regular kind of magic. You can tell that it is something special, something that your father has treasured for a long time, even before you ever came into the world. 

But would your magic be anything similar to what your father has, just like what Lady Laurel previously claimed? Would you be able to create your own portal one day to find your own escape? 

As if answering your question, Lady Laurel gently speaks to you, “I know that you are curious, and the lessons that you have been getting so far no longer seems to adequate to your needs, as you have gotten enough of the basic knowledge that you could gain in such a short amount of time. All I can ask of you is for you to be patient for now. His Majesty will be returning soon, and he will be able to guide you with your magic and answer a lot of your questions.”  

As much as you hate backing down, you realise that you have no other choice—at this moment, at least—but to give up, and follow your tutor’s advice. 

“I suppose, I can be a little more patient,” you finally say to her with a sigh. 

Your acceptance seems to please her, as a smile grows on Lady Laurel’s face. She beams as she rings the bell to summon the maids for a serving of tea and snacks to accompany your lesson, just like always. And while in waiting, she continues to set up all the books of magic that she would need for your lesson, followed by lighting up the set of candles that she has laid out in front of you.

“Let’s continue with our practice on your focus today,” Lady Laurel says to you as she returns to her seat while gesturing you to keep your eyes on the flickering flames. The same way that she has always guided you during your focus training. 

This practice might be far off from helping to unlock your magic, yet you still have to admit that this practice may have been quite helpful so far. Because it was through this practice that you had inadvertently figured out one of the skills that you have developed ever since you started learning about magic. 

The skill which allows you to trace and identify others’ mana; be it within a person or a place. 

The same skill that you revealed to Yoongi the last time you were together. 

As you try to empty your mind and focus on the flickering candlelights, the dejected feeling that came over you earlier is slowly being lifted when you remember that this day is still far from ending, and you still have other tutors to turn to. 

So you try to make it through the end of your lecture, doing your best with your simple training, Even if it only means that you will be walking out of here in the afternoon with sharpened focus. Perhaps it might be able to help you later by preventing you from falling asleep too soon if you ever decide to try to unlock your magic on your own again. 

— © 2024 Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind is not allowed. unsolicited translations are not allowed.

[haddonfieldwhore]

safe and sound - jeff hardy

2000s!jeff hardy x fem! reader (requested)

word count: 1.9k

warnings: none i think, fluff, ended up mostly gender neutral except for a few pet names

november 8th 2001:

you were standing ringside as your two best friends, lita and jeff, took on lance storm and ivory in a mixed tag team match. originally, matt was supposed to be out here with lita, but he ended up in an intercontinental championship match instead, leaving her without a tag partner, until jeff stepped up. lita and jeff were both amazing to watch, but it stressed you out just how easily they threw themselves off the top ropes and around the ring. you hadn’t been wrestling as long as they had, and you were still in awe everytime you got to see them in action up close.

jeff jumped over the top rope, taking out lance as lita slammed ivory down in the centre of the ring. the redhead climbed up to the top rope and hit a perfect litasault, pinning ivory to win the match for her and jeff.

jeff, who was still outside the ring next to you hugged you and spun you around, before lita pulled him into the ring for the official to raise their arms as the winners. the three of you heading up the ramp and backstage. the three of you hugged to celebrate the victory, and you and lita went to your shared dressing room so you could get changed.

“you were incredible! you and jeff make a really good team, ya know,” you smiled, as she grabbed an outfit from her suitcase and began getting changed.

“thanks. you guys would make a better team though,” she replied.

“i doubt it. i’m nowhere near as good as you.”

“that’s not true. but even if it was, you and jeff have this… insane chemistry that i don’t have with him. you understand eachother in a way i’ve never seen before,” she said as she finished getting dressed. you and the hardy’s had been friends for years, and while you also considered lita to be your best friend, you and jeff did have a special bond; a closer connection than you’d ever had with anyone.

“maybe. but you guys work great together regardless. i don’t think i could do some of those moves you did tonight.” you knew that you weren’t on the same level as lita, and you were okay with that.

“yeah, but you and jeff are really on the same wavelength. maybe one day it’ll be you two against me and matt. that would be fun,” she laughed, grabbing her bag and getting ready to leave the venue.

“that would be amazing,” you agreed.

“that is, if matt actually showed up,” lita added, still a little upset that he had not been the one in the tag match with her tonight.

“are you guys okay?” you asked, concerned.

“yeah, we’re great. it was a title opportunity for him; i can’t really blame him for taking it.” you nodded in agreement.

you picked up your own bag, following lita out of the dressing room, and heading back to the hotel.

•••

you and lita were watching tv in your hotel room, when she received a call from matt.

“right now? oh- okay,” she laughed. “i’ll meet you downstairs in a minute i just have to get dressed,” she spoke into her cell phone. “yeah i’ll ask them. okay see you soon.” she hung up the phone and stood up off the bed, and you looked at her expectantly.

“matt and i are going out for drinks or to the club…i don’t know he didn’t specify. you’re coming too, and jeff,” she explained, sliding her shoes on and checking her appearance in the mirror.

“lita, you know i hate the club -“

“i said i don’t know if we’re going there, matt just said out. it’ll be fun, pleaseee,” she begged, pouting and tugging at your arm to get you up off the bed.

“okay fine, but only if jeff’s going. i’m not third wheeling with you and matt again,” you laughed, recalling the last time you went out with just the two of them, and you had felt like a buzzkill the whole time.

“fine, go get him. matt left their extra key card here for me, the room numbers on it.” she sighed, grabbing her purse and putting her shoes on. “meet us downstairs in a few minutes.” you nodded, quickly fixing your appearance as you hadn’t been planning on going anywhere, before leaving the room to go find jeff.

you got to his room after a few turns down the hallway, and knocked on the door.

“who is it?” you heard jeff’s voice from in the room.

“hey, it’s me. lita gave me the key card; can i come in?” you called.

“yeah, o’course,” he replied, and you swiped the key, letting yourself in. “what’s up?” he asked, sitting up in his bed as you walked into the room.

“matt and lita want us to go out - i told her i would only go if you do.”

“where are they goin?” he asked, looking uninterested in the idea of going anywhere. he was wearing a black tank top that was tight to his torso, and some black track shorts that you could see as the blanket had gathered around his waist when he sat up.

“i don’t know, lita wasn’t sure. i guess matt didn’t say,” you answered. “they’re waiting in the lobby.”

jeff groaned as he flopped backwards to lay down again, his eyes closed. you laughed, sitting on the edge of the bed next to him and gently shaking his shoulders.

“c’mon, j.”

“do you really wanna go? baby, you hate goin’ out.” you didn’t think much of the pet name, people from the south said it all the time.

“not really, but- hey!” you yelped in surprise as jeff grabbed your wrist, gently pulling you down to lay next to him.

“good, let’s just stay here then,” he said, rightly wrapping his arms your waist, clinging to you like a koala.

“at least let me call lita and tell her we’re not going before she sends out a search party, you laughed. jeff let go of you enough for you to sit up, and you dialled litas cell number.

“hey, i think jeff and i are gonna stay in tonight. i’m sorry lita, next time. yes i know that’s what i say everytime but i promise. i know i say that too. okay, be safe, i’ll see you later.”

you hung up your cell, placing it on the nightstand before you kicked off your shoes and cuddled into bed with jeff. you had been friends for so long, it wasn’t wierd at all, often sharing a bed or falling asleep on the couch together after too many horror movies.

“your match tonight was great, by the way,” you complimented, and jeff smiled.

“thank you, i try to put on a good show. maybe one day we’ll have a tag match together,” he hummed as you laid back down, curling into his chest as he pulled you close again.

“that’s what lita was saying. she thinks we have some magical bond that would make us unstoppable,” you mumbled, your voice muffled because of how you were laying.

“i think she’s right,” jeff replied. “one day i’ll get you in the ring with me and we can prove matt’s theory. he thinks we can read each others minds and that’s why we think the same thing all the time.” you laughed at him, and jeff smiled wide at the sound.

“we’ll see. you scare me sometimes with how much you throw yourself around. and i don’t know about wrestling guys yet,“ you admitted.

“c’mon, you’re better than some of them already,” he said, ignoring your concern for his well being.

“i don’t know,” you mumbled. jeff pushed you back gently so you could look at eachother.

“well i do know. you’re amazing. and i would never let anything bad happen to you,” he promised. “inside the ring or outside of it.”

“i know. i feel safe with you,” you admitted, and jeff smiled.

“darlin, that’s the best thing i’ve ever heard.” you relaxed into him again, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

“i don’t want anything to happen to you, either,” you said. you knew jeff was amazing at what he did, but that didn’t make it any less scary when he threw himself off of twenty foot ladders.

“you don’t have to worry about me, i ain’t going anywhere,” he said, kissing the top of your head.

“promise?” you asked, and jeff’s arms tightened around you.

“i promise, babygirl.”

“i love you, jeff,” you sighed happily.

“you mean it?” he asked, and you kissed his cheek.

“of course.” jeff rolled over so you were both laying on your sides, face to face. “you don’t know that already?”

“i just like hearin you say it,” he smiled, and you laughed. “ya know you do this little nose scrunch when you laugh sometimes, it’s really cute.”

“shut up, i do not.”

“you just did it!” he laughed, and you hid your face in his chest. “it’s cute, don’t be embarrassed.”

“too late.”

“you don’t have to be embarrassed around me, hell we’ve seen eachother at our worst and we’re still friends.” jeff was right; you had been through a lot together, and at this point you didn’t think there was anything that could come between you.

“i know,” you sighed. “i don’t think anything will ever change that.”

“good. and i love you too.” you hummed in response, and there was a comfortable silence for a minute.

“we would make a good tag team though,” you admitted, and jeff laughed, and you could feel the vibration in his chest.

“damn right,” he agreed.

“lita said we should have a match against her and matt.”

“oh hell yeah, that’d be so awesome. any excuse to wrestle my brother, and you and lita against eachother would kick ass.”

“you mean she would kick my ass,” you laughed.

“you don’t give yourself enough credit. yeah she’s great but you are too.”

“thanks jeff, i appreciate that.”

“o’course,” he kissed the top of your nose, and you giggled. “you did it again -“

“shut up!” you laughed, punching his chest playfully.

“yeah? you gonna make me?” he asked, and started tickling your ribs, causing you to laugh harder. you wrestled around until you managed to get on top of him, straddling his hips.

“stop - or i start tickling you next.”

“alright alright, truce.” he held his hands up in surrender, and you caught your breath, realizing the position you were in. jeff sat up, holding you in his lap.

“jeff-“

“you said nothing could change our friendship right?” he asked softly, his eyes looking into yours.

“yeah, why-“ jeff leaned forward and kissed you softly, his lips barely touching yours before he pulled back. he waited for you to react, nervous that he had ruined everything, until you kissed him back, hands tangling in his messy blue and purple hair. jeff’s hands rested on your hips as he returned the kiss, smiling against your lips, before you separated.

“okay, maybe something could change the friendship slightly; but in a good way,” you smiled, and jeff bumped his forehead against yours softly, before laying back against the pillow, pulling you with him.

“i love you,” he said for the second time that night, perhaps meaning it a little differently now.

“i love you too,” you replied.

“say that again,” he breathed, squeezing you tighter.

“i love you.” jeff smiled as you kissed the underside of his jaw softly, and he turned off the lamp on the bedside table as you tangled your legs together under the blankets. jeff’s hand slid beneath the hem of your shirt slightly, drawing little shapes gently on the skin of your back as you both drifted off to sleep.

[natimiles]

Just let me adore you (Arthur)

Summary: You loved Mozart, and Mozart loved you. Arthur would just have to deal with it and not bother you again. But it’s easier said than done when you’re left alone on your own birthday.

Words: 1372

Tags: angst; unrequited love; hurt; no comfort; Arthur centric; Mozart is a bit of an asshole (sorry); no pronouns specified for reader.

Notes: I was re-reading some random parts from Living no Matsunaga-san and decided to write something for Ikevamp based on a scene there. I just realized Ryou and Levi kinda look alike. He is so precious; I loved him way more than Matsunaga.

I also listened to “Adore You” by Harry Styles, and now I see the lyrics from a whole different perspective. And the title for the fic comes from the song.

It wasn’t fair.

You deserved so much better. You deserved to be treated like royalty, to be loved, to be taken care of. He had to ensure you were always smiling, always happy, never crying.

However, that’s not what happened.

Arthur could barely restrain himself seeing the tears streaming down your face. How many times has it been now? How many more are you gonna endure? He only made you cry. Mozart only made you cry.

The writer can’t remember when or why he fell for you; he only recalls losing his chance. He remembers talking to Theo, who encouraged him to take action quickly. With half of the mansion having developed feelings for you, he knew it was only a matter of time before someone else confessed.

He was gonna buy you flowers and a nice gift, confess, ask you out properly, and kiss you by the end of the date if he was lucky enough. But before he could finish his lunch to go to town, you and Mozart entered the dining room. 

The scene still haunts him.

Your emotionally overwhelmed face, the bright smile, the flushed cheeks… your hand holding his arm, and he smiling at you. Cutlery fell from hands, drinks were spilled, and he’s pretty sure he heard Isaac gasp and stop breathing by his side. You happily announced you were together, and the romantic music everybody was listening to that morning suddenly made sense. You were so happy. He just congratulated you, along with everyone else, and tried to move on. 

Way easier said than done.

He ended up confessing to you the first time he saw you in tears, going against all his principles of never hitting on a compromised person — much less one in such a vulnerable state! Yet, he did it. He poured his heart out, saying he loved and cherished you, that he would never make you cry. He would never choose his work over you, even if his work was so important to him.

Arthur apologized some time later; he didn’t want to give the impression he was trying to take advantage of your fragile moments. So, he waited for things to calm down and confessed again.

You kindly turned him down both times, and he accepted it with a sad smile and a broken heart. Your heart didn’t belong to him; it belonged to the musician. You loved Mozart, and Mozart loved you — despite not being good at showing it, apparently. He’d just have to deal with it and not bother you with this again.

However, there was so much he could take.

He is leaving the mansion when he sees you standing just outside the door, with a lost gaze, tears streaming down your face. He holds you by the shoulders before he thinks better of his actions, but you don’t seem to mind it. You look at him with the saddest expression he’s ever seen on your face, and he knows.

He doesn’t ask what happened; he doesn’t have to. He simply turns you around and guides you by the shoulders back inside the mansion. He takes you to your room and sits you on your bed, observing how you quietly comply.

“I’ll be right back, okay, luv?” he speaks softly, and you just nod once, your gaze lingering on the floor.

He goes to the kitchen, prepares your favorite tea, and brews some coffee for himself. He considers getting something for you to eat too, but you probably don't want to. He arranges two mugs on the tray and returns to your room. You're in the exact same spot and in the exact same state as he left you, and it hurts him to see you so... numb.

He places the tray on your nightstand and goes to your en suite to grab a towel. Sitting down beside you, he reaches for your face, placing his finger under your chin and lifting it slightly to get a better look at you. Silently, he gently passes the towel over your wet cheeks.

"Try to warm up a little now, won’t you?” He offers you the tea, closing your hands around the mug and holding them in place with his own for a moment longer. “It’s your favorite.”

You just nod again, not really in the mood for talking — and you’re not even sure you’ll be able to say something without crying again. He grabs his mug, and you two drink silently, appreciating your own beverages.

"You… won’t ask?" you inquire after some time. Your voice is so low that he thinks he wouldn’t hear you if he weren’t a vampire with great hearing. It cracks another part of his heart open.

Arthur shakes his head and takes your empty mug back, putting it on the tray with his. “I don’t have to,” he says softly.

He wants to, though. A dark part of him would like to hear you dissing Mozart; perhaps you’d realize that he could be better than the musician — he would certainly try to.

Mozart went out early and hasn’t come back yet, probably too busy with the new concert he is working on. Usually, Arthur would find his hard work relatable; he got too invested in his writing too, losing night after night of sleep sometimes. However, it was your birthday today. Your lover set a birthday date with you and left you standing outside the mansion because of work.

“I wouldn’t do it,” he blurts out in a whisper, completing his thoughts aloud. “If you chose me, I’d never make you cry.”

“Arthur…”

“I want to make you happy. I need you to be.” He reaches for you, cradling your face with a gentle touch. He smiles, but it’s sad and broken, and it doesn’t reach his sorrowful gaze. “You don’t have to love me back… But I love you so much, I can’t take it anymore.”

You’re taken aback. Your breath catches in your throat, your tears drying almost instantly, and a cold shock passes through your whole body. After two confessions, you thought you’d be used to him professing his love. But this… This is so much more. You’ve never seen him this vulnerable before. You can practically see him offering his heart on his hands for you. 

“What…” you attempt to speak, but your words falter, lost in the whirlwind of emotions.

Only then does Arthur realize what he just said, widening his eyes. He lets his hands fall limp into his lap, sighing and averting his gaze while mentally cursing himself. He was supposed to be smart, so why does he often act like a fool in front of you? Love really messes with one’s mind.

He closes his eyes and runs his hand through his hair, obviously nervous. He grasps his bangs, tightening his grip in an attempt to stop himself from being an idiot and start acting like a proper man.

“Sorry. This burden is the last thing you need right now,” he mutters, his voice the weakest you’ve ever heard from him. Arthur takes a deep breath and stands up. “But if you… If you need something, you can always call me.” He takes the empty tray and heads to the door, but then he seems to remember something and turns back to you again, forcing a better smile. “Happy birthday, by the way.”

His expression falters the moment he closes the door behind him. Arthur heads straight to his own bedroom, not even bothering to bring the tray to the kitchen; he can do it later. Right now, he just needs to lie down and hope the earth swallows him whole before he embarrasses himself again.

He needs to stop it, he knows that. How is he supposed to control his heart, though? He tried to drown this feeling with different people in town, but he always ended up not wanting to spend the night with them. They weren’t you.

He places the tray on his coffee table and flops down on his bed, covering his eyes with his arm. He feels his blazer getting wet just a few seconds later and lets out a shaky sigh.

It’s going to be another long, lonely evening.

Masterlists

[pursuitseternal]

Give young Astarion “Everything” in this nsfw, loss of innocence update to “Our Blood is Thicker”💞🗡️

Astarion xF!OC (Cordehlia) |E| 3.8K to lose their virginity

Summary: flashback dream to their last night together, their first time together, and the gift they give one another of everything…

CW: losing virginity, outdoor sex, flashback angst, present day wet dreams, and elven recall returning.

Previous Ch | Ao3 link | Masterlist

Chapter 12: Everything

💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞

“Astarion!” Cordehlia called, leaping off her couch in her antechamber and flying into his outstretched arms. He strode in, so comfortable and welcome in his intended’s home. Cutting a fine figure in his doublet of blue and burgundy. The colors Cordehlia always said brought out his violet eyes. He stopped quick as she saw him, waiting and braced to hold her the moment the door to her chamber opened.

He only gave that low, lingering chuckle as he spun them both around. “My darling,” he caressed her ear, planting a kiss on her smile, always so big to see him.

Even five years later since their betrothal. She was just as happy, nay, happier now, than the day he said she would be his.

He breathed, a self-satisfied smirk on his full and handsome face. Releasing her from his arms, he clutched her hands, both in his. Those fingers so smooth and tender and refined. Like the silks and satins she wore. “I just received word…”

“I just got…” she said at the same time.

“You go, my lady,” he faked a gentlemanly bow, pressing her fingers to his lips. “I shall wait with my news.”

“My dress, it has arrived, all the way from Baldur’s Gate. I think even your parents will approve of it. I can’t wait for you to see it, the stitching, the colors, the jewels, it’ll be perfect for our wedding…”

His eyes narrowed, brows softened. Guilt and regret twisting his face in ways he could not hide. Not that he had ever really been good at masking his strongest feelings.

“What’s wrong, Astarion?” Cordehlia held her breath until it burned.

“I… just received word…” his long, pale fingers held a neatly rolled scroll, red wax seal already slit and message already read. “They want me to start my studies to be a magistrate…”

“No…” she shook her red braids so hard, one fell. “I thought they didn’t accept you.” Her smooth voice choked.

“Mother and Father called in a few favors…” he kept his eyes on her face. “This will be good for me, for us. The chance to forge my own way, to make a name for myself out of their shadow. To gain connections and power and perspective so I’ll be twice the High Lord they are once they…”

“Good, cause you sound just like them,” she spat, folding her arms. “And you come bursting in here like that’s astounding news. Like I’ll be happy.”

His hands grabbed for her again, and despite the frown on her beautiful face, she let him. “Don’t you see, I’m doing this for you too. First, my beautiful betrothed, then my wife, the spouse of the most powerful Magistrate in the greatest city in Faerûn, and finally, High Lord and Lady of our people,” he gave one of his sultry, velvety smirks. “There won’t be a soul who wouldn’t kneel at your feet then, my love.”

She stayed rigid before him, those sweetened words teasing at more brilliant hopes and dreams than she dared to envision. “Astarion,” she warned.

“Just think, my darling, you’re in awe of one beautiful gown from the City,” he purred, bringing her closer into his arms again. “Now imagine a whole trousseau, a whole wardrobe brimming with the same or finer clothes for you, one for every day of the year…”

She stepped closer without truly realizing it. Or resisting it. Stopping only once they were belly to belly, hip to hip again. “Perhaps,” she breathed, her tone softening again.

“You would be the talk of the Patiars, the envy of all, my beautiful bride on the arm of the most powerful Magistrate, a title I finally deserve, deciding life and death, freedom and punishment…” his hands stole over her smooth, silken skirts, pressing her pelvis against his, pressure on the sweet curve of her ass in his hands until she could feel his growing arousal.

His desire for her, and for the future he had long dreamed of. It made him… hungry.

“I suppose my gown will hang waiting happily to be joined by other such finery. It’ll only take you a small matter of time to complete your studies and begin, I do not doubt,” she smiled again. Smaller and fainter, but brimming with pride in him.

“No doubt,” Astarion flashed his toothy smile back at her. “But…” he paused, growing still again. “…I leave in the morning.”

Her fingers clawed into the thick fabric at his elbows. “What?” she snipped.

“Term has already started, I can’t delay any longer,” he replied so matter of factly, her stomach sank to her toes.

“So, you’ve come to say… goodbye,” she breathed, face falling into despair before she buried her face into his chest.

His hand swept into the mess of braids on her head, petting through them softly. “We have tonight,” was all he could say, trying hard not to make his voice waver as it was wanting to as well.

She sniffled, hiding her slightly swollen eyes from his sight. Not that he had never seen her cry before, but… tonight felt different. Solemn. Significant.

“Well,” she swallowed, suddenly feeling very warm, very close to his body. “I don’t want to waste a minute of it then getting your clothes all wet.”

That rakish grin curled his lips. “Not with tears, anyway…”

Cordehlia choked on a laugh. “Maybe… we do something… special,” she barely spoke above a whisper. “Maybe… just maybe…”

“What do you have in mind?” he purred, hands sweeping over her back, down her ass to hold her by her hips against him again.

“You sneak into the larder, grab us a feast,” she flicked half a smile in his face. “I’ll take care of the rest. Meet me back here in five minutes.”

“So short a time,” he face screwed in humor.

“I said we won’t waste a minute of it.”

And she disappeared through the door to her inner chambers.

Astarion hurried on light and silent feet. He knew every inch of her house, the fastest ways in and out, the way to the pantry least likely to be seen. And just where the General kept all the good stuff. He grabbed a cloth, stuffing it with dried sausages and cheese, fruits and finally a bottle of Ithbank to share. Enough to sustain them… if they were about to do what he thought.

What he hoped. And indeed, it would certainly be… something.

His heart pounded, hands, usually so skilled, fumbled to tie the cloth into a sack without dropping a thing. Peeking around the corner, he slunk quicker and quieter than he ever had.

Despite the way his cock had grown stiff down one of his trouser legs at the mere thought of what this… something… might be.

He beat her back to her chambers. Setting down his parcel, he took a moment to… adjust himself. Swallowing the groan that came out as he pulled his length against his belly instead, he had to wipe his hand from how much he was already leaking. “Gods,” he cursed to himself.

“Something the matter?” she softly called from behind. He turned slowly, breath catching and eyes wide as he saw her. And he giggled. Her arms were full, blankets and flint box and a bundle of kindling weighing her down. But underneath, she wore that dress…

“You look so… beautiful,” he breathed, and he rushed to her to relieve her of those goods.

So soft as he brushed against her sleeves, the palest green of spring, studded with little pearls and gems bright and small like the stars. Thread, silver like her eyes, wove in patterns all about her body, like little clusters of constellations in the sky.

Cordehlia blushed as he met her gaze, her look was eager, excited, and… nervous, he thought.

“By the looks of things, we are going camping, roughing it, sleeping in the dirt?” he taunted mischievously, arching one of his rakish brows.

“Well,” she purred, clutching the blankets against her breasts and grabbing the pack of food he prepared before heading to the door, “I wouldn’t dream of giving you this… gift under my Father’s roof…”

Astarion groaned, hiding its source by shifting the weight of the kindling and flint box in his arms. But really it was the way her words sent the sharpest, hottest pang right to his groin. And he prayed to every one of the gods he wasn’t leaking into the cream of his tunic before he got to remove it at this rate.

Swallowing he followed her silently, recovering what senses he could as he trailed behind her hem. Once they slipped from the kitchen door, he took a breath of cooling summer air. “So, my darling, where are you absconding with me?” he crooned over her shoulder as they made their way through the gardens towards the trees.

“Not totally sure… maybe just a little patch of nowhere, just for us…”

Not as if she didn’t know every mossy bed in the trees around their homes, as if they hadn’t already stolen kisses and pleasured each other under almost every tree’s boughs in their five years together. As if the grasses hadn’t all been flattened by one or both of their backs as the other sucked or licked their lover in the moonlight…

But such thoughts were not helping the increasingly damp stick inside his trouser’s waistband.

She cut sharply to the left, deeper into the forest, just as he thought she would. Her favorite little spot, a gentle stream nearby, ready access to waters for when they would have to clean up after themselves. This time, he let his heavy-breathed sigh sound for her to hear.

Cordehlia turned, a knowing and desirous smirk on her full and pink lips. The moss here was extra lush, and she quickly began spreading her blankets around in a neat little bed. “Why don’t you start us a fire to keep warm?” she grinned, starting to lay out the provisions he had snatch.

He had never stacked wood or struck a flint faster in his life. Once the fire had taken hold, he wiped his hands together and turned. She stood bathed in starlight and flickering flames, her back to him, hair parted over one shoulder, her eyes soft and beckoning.

A silent ask for him to help her disrobe.

“Oh, my love,” he breathed, closing in on her, hands clasped at her bare shoulders where her gown already began to slide down her ivory skin. He lingered his lips against her neck, pulling her back and rear to brace against his stomach. His hips gave an unbidden roll against her ass. “What will it be then…?” his voice dripping with his desire as his fingers quickly tugged lace after binding lace from the stitching down her back. “My tongue between your legs?” he purred, a heavy sigh making her shoulders rise and fall beneath another tender kiss from him. “Your pretty, pink lips sucking my cock?”

This time she moaned, helping ease her dress from her arms and over her hips. Step by step, she turned to face him, kicking her dress out of her way. “I thought I said something special, something I haven’t done with you before, but… I’d like to…”

He wrapped his arms around her bare back. “You don’t have to, you know,” he said, steadily gazing in her eyes. “I would hate to leave you tomorrow with… regrets.”

“I think I would regret it more if I didn’t give you my…” she paused and blushed and turned to hide her sheepish smile against her shoulder. “My everything. Especially if we will be parted for a time.”

Astarion let his held breath ease slowly, his belly clenching at her coyness, his cock throbbing at her words. “Well, then, my love,” he stroked the breadth of his palm down her supple curves and rounded hips, “your… maidenhead is a gift I have been waiting for, and one I will cherish forever.”

“Cut the silken words, Ancunìn, and disrobe,” she giggled. She turned and thrust her chin at him, that same taunting, defiant smirk on her face he recalled from their youth.

“With pleasure,” he leered back at her, those deep violet eyes locked into her stare as his fingers flew through his clasps and buttons. He watched her chest rise and fall, her own gaze sinking down his front the more of his chest came into view.

She breathed his name the second those long fingers started to free his cock, already the thick pink head prodding out of his waistband.

“Cordehlia,” he returned the amorous tone. One hand tugged off his trousers and kicked off his boots. The other wound into the back of her head, pulling her panting lips slowly to caress his own.

He nearly tripped on his own pants, hurrying to get freed. Especially once those smooth, gentle hands of hers wrapped around his cock and softly palmed his balls. All at once. Tugging up, she steadied him with a laugh that tickled down his throat. “Easy, Astarion,” she whispered into his mouth, “we have all night, remember?”

“One we will never forget…” he growled, his voice so thick, it even surprised himself. They melted as one into the blankets, the scent of her skin and woodsmoke filling his every breath. Her body seemed to cradle him, wrapping him in her arms, clenching his middle with her thighs. That ivory skin even smoother than the Baldurian silks she stripped off just for him.

He wanted to taste her every lick, inhale her every breath, wanted to watched her every reaction to his touch all at once. His mind raced, years of waiting to finally join like this, and he couldn’t help but wish he had read more… done more to ready himself.

But her hands were already pulling him over her hips, her mouth already panting greedily for air as she bucked against him. This embrace was nothing new, he knew the press of her body, the warmth of her mouth and the grip of her hand. He was ready for more. She was ready to give him more.

Everything.

He stole his hand between her thighs, catching her drenched folds, wetter than ever as he parted them. But this time, after a few languorous circles of his thumb over her clit, he delved two long fingers inside her.

Her pulse raged, her muscles clenched taught at the welcome intrusion. They had played little games in their passion, just the brush of his cock against her entrance, just a shallow dip into its heat and warmth once or twice each time before she would squeal nervously.

But not tonight. He groaned to feel her shifting inside, around his fingers, hotter as he sank them deeper, as he withdrew them to thrust them back in a little faster.

As he joined a third finger to stretch that virginal thightness just a bit more before he…

“Gods,” he groaned, resting his head for a moment on the pillow of one breast.

“How does it... feel?” she sighed, her own voice shaking almost inaudibly as he kept a slow and steady pump of his touch.

“Perfect,” he groaned. “Tight and perfect…”

“And all yours,” she breathed and laughed. Her fingers gripped into his ass, urging him closer, so close his cock pressed into those seeping folds. He coated his length in her slick, holding his breath as he guided his own drenched head against her entrance.

He paused, looking into her face, her eyes half-shut, her teeth biting her lower lip, sight glued to watching the small space where they would join. “Please, Astarion,” she moaned, a slight buck of her hips, “I’m ready.”

He gave a slight nod, a gentle kiss into her panting belly, and then rolled his hips. Slowly, her wet and heat swallowed him. The pressure of her core on his head making his breath hitch in his throat, gripping him so tightly, he stopped. Glancing up, he drank in the blush on her cheeks and neck, the way her face squinted in that twist he had seen every time she came undone.

Cordehlia groaned, breath rapid. “Mmm, just a moment…”

He pulled back an inch, slowly sliding in more… and more. His thighs shook, his hips and body craving to fuck deeper, to bury himself to his balls and thrust until he felt nothing but her warmth and wet and pressure was his whole world.

Her hands braced on his shoulders. “Slowly,” she panted, hips screwing beneath him, wriggling for release. “But don’t you stop,” she moaned.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he managed to reply, sliding back easily once more. Half-way in, and he pushed against that pressure that resisted on his head one last time.

Until it eased.

Until she sighed, arching her back, wrapping her legs. “There now,” she panted, trying to steady her voice as if she wasn’t being split apart by his cock. “All mine… all yours…”

Until morning… She pushed the thought from her wandering mind. Easy to do as he hung his head between her breasts and began to gently roll his hips once. And again.

His throat shook each time, little growls as he dragged inside her, back and forth. His breath was hot on her skin, shaking and unmeasured. As if he had been running uphill, but instead he gave little undulations of his hips that sent her careening toward pleasure so quickly through the stretching pain, that fire in her nerves as his cock split her thighs impossibly wide just to fit him inside.

He restrained himself, she could tell, fighting hard to control every little roll of his body between her thighs, every rock of his hips and slide of his belly across hers. Every thought in her mind focused on matching his movements, letting her muscles heat and open and relax to be finally so completely filled.

To ride one another so naturally, fit perfectly, pleasurably.

Arms wrapped around his neck, leveraging her strength as she arched when he hit some spot inside her channel. The cry from her lips made him pause, eyes wide at first in terror, easing to a smile and low laugh as he noticed how her own lips hung slack in a grin. Totally enthralled and consumed.

It was enough to throw him over the edge. But first….

He lowered his mouth, catching her nipple in his lips to give her a long, teeth-dragging suck.

“Ah…” she gasped and quirked and bucked as her whole body shook beneath him. Around him.

Every spasm of her channel squeezed him, sucked him harder than her mouth. Divine pressure that he fucked against, all control, all restraint gone. His own breaths deafened his ears, his own body riding into the ground beneath her, the pulse of his cock against her walls as he finally reached his climax. Too much to control now.

He groaned so loudly, chest collapsing on hers as he spilled into her, groaning and shaking and sweating until every last drop of cum emptied at last.

Still so hot and tight and wet. She sighed, grieving that splitting pressure the moment he pulled away. But he clung to her tightly, face buried in the crook of her neck, inhaling the sweet scent of meadow grass and sweet flowers that covers her skin. He managed to purse his lips on her collarbone for a kiss between dry pants. “I never want to do that with anyone else… not in this lifetime or the next,” he rasped, and he could feel her smile bloom across her face.

“Me neither,” she whispered a reply into the soft silver curls near her face. “But I do want to do it again… now…”

He barely lifted his head, that cunning, desirous smirk canting his handsome features. “Let a man get a drink first, insatiable vixen that you are…”

Astarion jolted awake, the thick air of the Cursed lands still in his nose. Not sweet meadow and woodsmoke. His back was ridged with scars, not nail marks from her clinging to him. His stomach growled in perpetual hunger for blood, not just the aching throb that did still exist between his legs.

But somethings were just like his dream… or was it his memory… was it her memory?

Cordehlia still laid beside him, their skin pressed against one another as they rested in trance. And then, there was the stick of his cum that covered his stomach and thighs.

Cum from his sleep, from his dream of their first time.

Silver eyes batted open, a smile on her face until she looked at his embarrassed grimace. “Oh, Astarion…” she cajoled softly, “did you… did you see my dream too?”

“What do you think?” he tried not to snap, hand trying to hide the way his erection still seeped his seed onto his belly. “That was… our first time…”

“Mmhmm, and I’m ever so glad it wasn’t our last,” she purred, flashing him that same little smirk of seduction before she stuck out her tongue, licking that trickle of cum from where it hung midair from his slit. He groaned, so close to needing more than that to find his release if he wasn’t careful. But Cordhelia gave him another sly little glance as she got up. “Let me help you get cleaned up, my love.” She went for the basin and a rag, wringing out the water before kneeling at his side.

The mighty vampire was still too mortified to watch, to take his arm from where it hid his face in the crook of his elbow. “I can’t believe I just did that…. Last time this happened was the last morning you had snuck into my rooms in the manor… how you had to borrow my cloak that morning to hide yourself as you snuck back after dawn since we got so carried away that morning after…” he waved his dexterous hand over his hips, “…this.”

“Astarion Ancunìn,” Cordehlia froze, rag mid-swipe over his balls, “are you… remembering?”

It smacked him from the inside. The perfect recollection of that morning, covered in his own cum, burning off his morning lust with her lips sucking him clean until he came again…

“Yes,” he replied, lifting his arm and sitting upright. “Yes, I am remembering…”

A sad, relieved, joyous smile danced over her lips. She fell on his body, trapping his face between her palms. Kissing him until he couldn’t catch a breath between her lips, not that he needed one to survive.

Not in the same way he needed her to survive now.

But he had one last little memory. “You never did give me that cloak back, did you?” he chuckled low in his throat, feeling her answering smile.

“Guess I can’t lie now that you are remembering…” she teased, keeping his face so close to hers, she never wanted to let go.

“No, you can’t, my love. You can’t…”

[toyybox]

Spiderwebs #41: Magnum Opus

Masterlist

content: lab whump, needles (blood draw), immortal whumpee

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

“I’m certain that, with a few more years of research, I could discover why your body doesn’t kill it off. If I figure that out—“ She didn't finish that thought. “But there’s no guarantee. That’s only if everything goes according to plan.”

“I’m sure it will,” he said.

They were in the laboratory again. He was sitting in her office chair, as he always did, and she brought a folding chair up from the kitchen. There were peaches for breakfast. Jackie mentioned that he wanted to eat them a few days ago. He was surprised that she remembered. It snowed again the night before, and the morning was less sunny than usual. Gray clouds painted the sky instead. He wondered if it would storm.

“I should write a paper about this,” she said suddenly. “I will write a paper. These notes are practically incoherent.”

"You can’t publish it, though, can you?”

“I can’t publish it. It would be nice if I could, but I would also have to explain how I met you.”

Yes, that little detail. “What are you going to name it?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I always get someone else to come up with the titles. I suppose we’ll need to name the organism, too. You should name it.”

“I don't have any ideas."

“Neither do I. We can think of one later. I’ll start writing soon. Though, I do want to ask you a few questions first.” Hence, Heather was holding her journal and a pen. “Have you ever experienced issues with your immune system?”

“No.”

“Do you recall anything abnormal about your birth? Anything at all? Even if it seems small, tell me. We’re grasping at straws here.”

“No, it was normal.” 

She wrote these findings down. “And I assume you never experienced any sort of… I don’t know, rare event? Nothing in your life that could have caused this?”

“Not really.”

“Then I presume it’s an innate condition, ever since you were born.” She set the journal and pen down on a table. “But you can’t be the only person with this organism. The species couldn’t possibly become this far developed in a single host. There must be other immortals out there, somewhere, whether they’re aware of it or not.”

"If you're right about the parasite thing, then I guess it’s possible. Maybe we’ll find someone like that."

“I wouldn’t mind having a larger control group. By the way, I did a complete blood count…” Her tone shifted to an air of professional curiosity, and Jackie recognized that she was about to lecture him about some new discovery she found. “On the blood samples from when you were starving. I noticed average levels of red blood cells and hemoglobin, but the platelet levels were slightly higher than normal. Platelets are there to—“

“Wait, I know this one. They clot blood.”

“Exactly.” She nodded. “They create clotting. But I barely saw any white blood cells. Even in healthy samples, oddly enough. There’s more organisms in your bloodstream instead. They take the job of killing infections, like I told you. I also noticed what seemed to be eggs in your veins.”

“Really? Eggs?” Though Jackie had mostly detached himself from all these biological miracles, he still felt some discomfort at this idea.

“It’s what’s keeping you alive, so I suppose it can’t be helped. There was an excessive number of organisms, actually. They reproduce faster when the host is unhealthy. I believe that’s what gave your blood that dark, viscous quality.”

“There’s really no way to get them out?”

“If you find one, let me know.” Out of the blue, she picked her journal up again, clicked her pen open. “Actually, I wanted to ask—have you ever donated blood before?”

“No.”

“Interesting.” She wrote this down. “Your blood is O positive. I tested it earlier. You could hypothetically transfer it to about seventy percent of the population. The organism doesn’t survive in foreign organic matter, so there’s no adverse effects. It would be worthwhile to test it in a living human body, though. My blood is B negative, unfortunately, so I haven’t been able to try it out.”

“And B negative doesn’t mix with the positive types, right? That’s why you can’t test it?”

“Right.”

He remembered that much from his scarce education, if nothing else. Jackie always felt a little lost when she spoke of such concepts. What a complete blood count was, he had no idea. He didn’t want to ask her and interrupt.

“It’s honestly absurd,” she continued. “It’s such an extreme case of specialization. As far as I’ve seen, at least. I still don’t know how it would react to dehydration…”

“I would rather not,” he interrupted. “If that’s possible.”

“No, it’s alright. I understand if you’re not up for it. I…” She closed the journal, gently. “I feel like these tests are too harsh, sometimes. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, but…”

"I'm okay. It's for science."

“That’s good to hear.” Her conflicted expression was gone at once. 

And he was okay. He had been allowed everything he could ever want… well, almost everything, with some heavy restrictions, but he could settle for that. There wasn't any reason to rock the boat. It had been a peaceful few weeks, all things considered.

Heather glanced at her watch. "Would you look at that? You've been here for an hour, and you're still alive. It appears that my experiment is going very well."

Jackie was, in fact, currently hooked up to a blood bag in Heather’s laboratory. A needle inserted into his arm drained his blood through a clear, thin tube. The sight of so much of his own blood would have made him nauseous, once, but this rich scarlet was now a familiar color. It was a more sanitary method of bloodshed, at least, and relatively painless. 

So far, he had filled up about nine bags. Jackie was not a scientist, but he was fairly certain that wasn’t a normal amount of blood to extract. The bags were arranged on the table, weighed down by the gravity of all that heavy red liquid, entire pints of it sagging at the seams. Heather set about removing the tenth one.

“How many liters is that, doc?” He asked.

“About five.” She slid the needle out of his arm, before applying a band-aid over the gap left behind. “Most people would have died by now.”

He watched her unhook the bag from its thin steel stand. “What are you going to do with all that blood?”

“It’s too complicated to explain.” She forced a juice box into his hand. “Drink that. Your blood sugar must be through the floor. Are you feeling lightheaded?”

“A little.”

She forced a package of biscuits into his other hand. “Nauseous?”

“No.” He regarded the biscuits with suspicion. “I’m not hungry.”

“Keep it, at least. Eat when you feel up to it.” She placed the tenth blood bag onto the table. “You know, you don’t have much of an appetite lately.”

“I guess.” Hunger was a point of contention. But he was starting to feel thirsty, oddly enough. He stabbed the plastic straw through the juice box. 

“Yes, ever since…” She paused. But she carried on without a second thought, as if she had never mentioned it at all. “I do wonder where all this blood is coming from.”

Now that his arm wasn’t attached to the needle, he could move it freely. He shook his wrist out for a few seconds. “Hey, where’d you learn all this stuff, anyway? Harvard?”

He said it as a joke, but she replied, “Harvard? Don’t insult me like that. I studied somewhere reputable, thank you.” 

“Somewhere reputable.” He wasn’t sure what that would even entail. Nicer jars for their organ collections, maybe. “What did you get? A PhD?”

“Yes, a doctorate. Did you study anywhere?”

“Nowhere, really. I graduated high school, but I didn’t do anything after that. I just started working.” 

He had never seen his education as a priority. When the police took him in... anyway, they had him in and out of the hospital, then sent him to a couple different homes, and that didn't leave any time for him to care about school. He wanted to study language, if he could, but he didn't think that was possible anymore.

Besides, it was expensive. He could barely scrape together the cash for rent. Getting work as a waiter had been incredibly lucky, in hindsight.

“So you didn't receive further education,” she said. “I assumed as much.”

“You assumed right. I’m not that smart.”

“Well, I don’t know about that. I’ve taught you a few things.” She leaned back in her chair. “Natural talent doesn’t count for anything, you know. There’s a brilliant mind born every day that goes to waste. That’s not enough to get you anywhere. It’s about perseverance and discipline, in the end.”

And a lot of money, he thought tartly. That wasn't Heather's fault, though, and she really was good at what she did. He decided to just let her talk. She could be quite talkative, actually, once she got started.

"I can tell you’re irritated,” Heather said.

“I’m not,” he said. “Continue, please.”

“You don’t have to lie. It's obvious. You should know I appreciate your presence. Even if I don’t express it very well.”

“Yeah, you don’t.”

“I don’t. I can be… harsh. But I meant it. I just can’t say it like you do. I’m terrible at that.”

That was true, despite all her other talents.

“You're my crowning jewel,” she said. “My—my magnum opus, even. But you’re also my friend. You’re the only person I care about.” 

“I know that.”

And he couldn’t hold grudges, when she spoke that way. It was all so stilted, so artlessly sincere. For once, the words were slow and careful, purely meant for him. He had already forgotten the rest of their conversation.

She fell silent. It seemed as though she had been distracted by something.

He looked up at her. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you ever want to leave?” she asked.

"Do I have a choice?"

“No.” She searched his expression intently. "You don't."

He stared back with the same intensity. "Then stop asking me stupid questions."

She didn’t move away, and for a moment she was completely still. Her gaze lingered, as dark as night, burning like distant fires. Maybe that was the wrong thing to say. 

It didn’t matter. She knew he wasn’t going anywhere. Perhaps that was for the best. His circumstances had always been difficult, but he used the cards he was given the best he could. He would be happier this way. Playing his role until the bitter end.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Taglist:

@theelvishcowgirl @lthrboy @whumpy-wyrms

@yassifiedinformation @creppersfunpalooza

@vidawhump @dont-look-me-in-the-eye

[gothgleek]

"You , you love it how I move you

you love it how I touch you my one. When all is said and done, you'll believe god is a woman"

billy loomis x Reader fluff

(the song lyrics are from god is a woman Ariana grande)

Note: Hi! Sorry for the late response, it took a while to hear writers block. The god worship and the fluff is a little toned down than what you’re probably expecting but I think it came out short and sweet. At least, this is what I’d like from a slasher lol

Notes: Rated PG-13 for offscreen death, everything else is cute and sweet.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated!

You raised your head at the sound of knocking on your window to find Billy Loomis smiling at you from the other side of the glass.

“Hey,” Billy greeted as if it was totally normal to enter a home through the second story window.

“Hey,” You laughed and pulled him through. “What are you doing here?”

“There was a horror movie marathon and I started to think of you,” He started, walking around your bed room, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“That’s flattering,” You said with a smirk and your hands on your hips. Billy chuckled at your pose.

“It is flattering. It was a Japanese film. I can’t recall the title,” Billy stopped in front of a map with various pins marking places you wanted to visit. Billy had spent hours listening to you talk about all the places you wanted to see after graduation.

Unlike the rest of your classmates, Billy listened to you talk about the architecture and culture of these countries. As the two of you grew closer, you even taught him some dance steps from some of the countries you wanted to visit. Billy wasn’t super graceful but he liked the way you smiled at him when he made an effort. Billy even started to get excited about going with you. He rented foreign movies for your date nights, even if he couldn’t understand most of the dialogue. Since the video rental was pretty limited with foreign movies, the two of you would often rewatch them and make out during the boring scenes.

“Anyway, it was a Japanese film and I thought about all the places you wanted to go to after graduation. Senegal, Spain, Brazil, France, Egypt… Japan.” He turned to face you with a small smile.

“And you started to miss me?” You teased lightly.

He nodded, his hands shifting around his pockets. “I did. I thought about all the places you wanted to see and how much I wanted to see them with you.”

“Then I remembered how Mr. Bateman wouldn’t give you the A you needed for your parents to approve your summer abroad.” Your bright face faltered a little as you gave Billy a confused look. He drove all the way here to remind you of this?

“And as nice as it was to have you cry on my shoulder, I hated seeing you upset.” Billy walked to you and tilted your head up to look him in the eyes. “You are too important to me to ever make you upset. And I will do everything in my power to make sure you are always smiling.”

Billy pulled out one of his hands holding a kitchen cloth. He held it out to you and you gently unwrapped it. You let out a gasp when you saw the blood soaked knife.

“You’ll get that A now baby,” Billy smiled at you and pulled out his other hand. Two plane tickets to Tokyo dated for the day after graduation. You covered your hands with your mouth as you gasped. “And we'll travel the world together.”

Your eyes were filled with tears of happiness. You didn’t think anyone would have ever done something like this. “Billy I don’t know what to say-“

“Don’t say anything babe,” Billy said with a relieved smile. “I promised I will do anything I can to make you happy. Mr. Bateman was just a sacrifice I made to make sure you are happy.”

You pulled him close so you could kiss him hard. You hoped he could feel every bit of love and warmth you could give him, grateful for him.

“It’s you and me forever baby, don’t you ever forget that.”