#in that sense not smiling and not being too nice will come naturally at least....

[seariii]

On a much brighter note... No filter/sleep deprived Seari shouldn't be allowed a phone

[prettyboykatsuki]

chewtoy | s. gojo

✮ tags ; dead dove: do not eat, noncon, humiliation, abuse of power / power imbalance, master / servant relationship, titles like master satoru, he's being Really Fucking Weird (sniffs u a bunch...rip), oral(f!receiving) 18+

✮ wc ; 2k (????)

✮ a/n ; horrible horrible man. can he leave me alone. extension of this

"The young Master is calling for you."

You try not to flinch. Aiko gives you a warm, summery smile and a soft nudge to your side. You can only assume this means you've succeeded and she doesn't sense your disgust.

"He's so fond of you," She ends her sentence with a wispy sigh. "Must be nice to have a rich, powerful man fawn over you a bit, right?"

You remain indifferent. She smiles again. You think she is infinitely more beautiful than you. Soft, bouncy hair and smooth skin. Her naive nature makes her shine brighter than one thousand suns. It'd be nice if the young Master showed interest in someone like her.

You put the dream to rest quickly.

"You shouldn't keep him waiting," She hums. It's so innocent. "Go on, don't let me keep you."

You don't tell her you wish she would keep you. She is also right that you should not keep him waiting. If he's summoned you to his chambers deliberately, that means he is already feeling impatient. Master Satoru never seeks you out unless he is in some kind of mood.

He's had this habit since childhood. You've never made him aware of it, and you don't plan too. One of the few things you help you know what to expect from him.

You nod her along, tell her to finish up work in the living quarters to which she agrees merrily. Her spirits are lifted by the prospect of the young Master showing you fondness. Some part of you wishes you could share in her joy.

A pit of dread makes your steps heavy, but your footfall is light and beautiful. You are poised and cool as you walk along the dark, dreary hallways that lead to the Master's office.

A door swallowed in shadow, a single light shining on the golden plaque with the young Master's full name. You knock twice, announcing yourself.

"You're here," He says. You try not to flinch. You're certain you do not succeed. You are thankful he cannot see you - or you hope he can't. "Come in,"

You open the door and step inside to his office - shutting the door behind you. Muscle memory guides you to your curtsy. You bow politely.

"Yes, Master?"

"So stuffy," His voice makes your chest feel tight with discomfort. Frustration ebbs underneath it, cuts like a jagged edged knife. "At least call me, Satoru. Our relationship is much better than that, I thought."

"I could never be so informal to the young Master," You say, and then concede. "But I will call you Master Satoru, if you wish."

"How obstinate," He drawls. You do not life your head to see the face he makes. You already know what it looks like. It's burned into your mind. "But I suppose I'll make do. Lift your head."

You lift your head, but do not look at his face.

"Come closer,"

You step towards him, your lungs pushing air out of you manually. Remembering to breathe evenly is a herculean task. He beckons you closer until you're within distance of his touch.

He glances at you. "Look at me."

You try not to hesitate and force your eyes forward. His eyes undress you. Pointed gaze falls along your features, outlines your every inch, and analyzes your face. You remain even. He hums.

His frivolity is missing. This is suddenly more frightening. His mood is worse than you thought.

"Lift your skirt,"

Your muscles tense as you try not to shake. You succeed. He lets out a soft breath before he drops down onto his knees. You do not let yourself make any sort of expression, averting your gaze. He stares long and hard at your clothed pussy.

You tremble. He assess you silently, eyes flitting up.

"Sit in my chair with your skirt over your waist. So I can see you properly and all."

You listen to his instructions mindlessly. The velvet of his chair and warmth of his remaining body heat touch your bare ass and thighs. Satoru turns to you, still on knees. His hand wraps around your ankles and slips your shoes off of you.

You close your eyes. Sudden intimacy makes you slink back.

"Look at me."

It is is a command. You let your gaze fall on him again and watch on in excruciating nausea. Your stomach twists violently at the fragility of it all. Slender fingers hook into your knee socks and pull them down along your calve until they're off. His gaze catches yours. He does not smile at you. His hand comes around your ankle again and lifts your leg closer to his face. His nose presses against the bend of your foot.

He inhales. You try not to react but you can feel your eyes go wide. Feel your muscles clench, your heart sinking. Iron fills your mouth.

He lets his nose nudge up against the top of your calf.

"Young Master,"

He stares at you. Irritation flits through his gaze. There's no getting out of this, no mercy. You slink back again. He does smile that time.

Your body prickles with unwanted heat at the sensation. He licks along your legs, biting the supple skin - huffing the scent of your sweat every time he goes along. His teeth sink perversely into your flesh, sucking until there's throbbing, marks against your calves. The color of an orchid, purple and red. Fear strikes in you like a match. His grip on your ankles moves to the back of your calves and squeezes tight. He repeats the process on both calves intently.

There's claim to this. You know this part of him. He is claiming you with vicious confidence. Something with deeper magnitude then lust. For you, he is desire and ownership and want incarnat. A testament of his own beliefs. You willfully do no make noise aside from a gasp or breath.

You don't know how long it takes until he's satisfied with the state both legs.

He moves up. Bites the soft flesh of your thigh. You nearly spit out another useless plea. Shamelessness makes up his every move. His tongue slides over every single inch of your bare skin until his noses brushes along your cunt.

He doesn't lick you there. Not right away. Again he sniffs, breathes you in deep and uncomfortable. It's violating in all senses of the word, his grip tightening on your thighs as he huffs your scent. You haven't bathed. You've practically been running around since morning, but he doesn't let up and breathes you in anyway.

You squirm at that point. Your face contorts so slightly and he's watching you for it. His face finally cracks a smile and abject dread makes your spine lock up.

"Mm," He emphasizes the sound. It's so loud in such a quiet room. "That's it."

You don't have the strength to say anything.

It's frighteningly abrupt and rough, the feeling of his mouth along your pussy. He sucks at your clit from outside the fabric and you gasp - suddenly helpless. It's not the first time, of course not. But it's never this... random. Never this rough.

Your back arches at the sudden motion, face breaking - and Satoru grips you tighter and forces you back into the chair. Forces his tongue against your clit and sucks hard through the cotton material. Your body betrays you in its reaction - nipples pebbling underneath your clothes. Nearly screaming from the sensitivity. Your lower body is all ache - hickeys and bruises and bite marks making you throb perpetually. Too much, too much, too much.

Shame floods your system as the first spike of arousal forces itself from you - your cunt floods, gushing with a sudden spike of want from rough treatment. The sound of him sucking you so hard and drenching it with his saliva echoes across the room. You're sure it's traveling into the hall.

"Master Satoru," Your voice is even but it cracks on his name. Tears form at the corners of your eyes - fear and shame mixing into desperation. "Satoru,"

He hums into your pussy and you shake. "What is it? What wish would you like your master to fulfill for you.

"Please," Your voice is hoarse. Bone-deep exhaustion is out done by adrenaline. "Not through the fabric, please. It's dirty."

He sucks again and you keen - nails digging into your palms as you throw your head back.

"Your Masters spit soaking your panties is dirty? How rude." He teases. The whimper leaves your mouth without permission. You wish this would end soon but even amidst your fog you know that is not more than a pipe dream.

He takes them off. Rolls them down your thighs all wet and drops them. You let out a sigh of relief before his nose bridges touches your clit again. Swallowing the sound, you look away.

"It's soaked," He says conversationally, "Your needy little cunt is making a mess of your Master's chair. Tsk, tsk - so shameful."

"I'm sorry," You croak, unsure of what else to say. "I'll clean it."

He laughs, seemingly alleviated from his prior upset at the state of your humiliation.

"I'm sure you'll do an excellent job," He rests his hand over the mound of your sex - using pointer and thumb to spread your lips apart and get view of your swollen little clit. He breathes on it. "But you're still begging me for my attention down here. Filthy pussy for such a meticulous maid. Do you know how wet you are? Did you miss me so much?"

You don't answer him. He goes on.

"I thought of you all week," His voice is soft. Tinged with affection, or something like it. "Ahh, dealing with higher ups is such a pain."

You stare at him. He looks back at you with a smile. You flinch. You flinch certainly. "But I can always take it out on you, can't I? This perfect, filthy, needy cunt. It'll only every belong to me and I get to use it to my hearts content. I thought of that suddenly then called you."

It's not just your cunt he's interested in. That'd be relieving if that were the case. If he only ever used you to vent his sexual frustrations, treat you like a personal cocksleeve. You think it might be better that way.

He's too fond of you for that.

The young Master treats you like a chew toy instead. He bites, licks, slobbers, and misuses you. He might hump you to chase his high from time to time, might throw you around for rough sex should the mood suit him. But he's not a clueless oaf, some classless barbarian who only feels pleasure from his cock.

His violation is something else. It's deeper in scent, richer in taste. It is born from his greatness.

He's smart enough to know exploitation and that's what gets him off most. He exploits you. Exploits your reactive body, exploits your stoicism, exploits your dedication to your duty. You're his chew toy because you are designed to be unbreakable. You are indestructible.

But you have the perfect amount of give. You flinch, sigh, and whimper enough to make your Master thrilled. You squeak and moan like you're heat addled when he plays with you enough.

To Satoru, you're the most perfect thing to ever grace his life. His favorite toy that he's bitten at since he was just a boy and grew so fond of.

No matter how much you end up in tatters, Satoru can't help but love you with all of his heart.

You get exhausted being thrown around. But you can't go anywhere, either. He's so watchful of you. He might go crazy and bite if you were to disappear.

"Cum for me," He says, sucking on your clit much more softly. He's gentle but exact. Knows the ins and outs of your body enough to send you racing towards the edge with an unimaginable speed. You gasp and shudder, holding onto his chair for your life as an orgasm shoots through like lightning through a telephone wire.

You cum. You cum hard, bruised and mind-broken and nauseous and you cum so hard something spurts out of you and makes the chair wet. The young Master is nonplussed of course, and laps it up like a dog drinking water.

"Ahh, much better." He's pleased as he stands up and then bends down to your height. His hand cradles the back of your neck with a pleasant sigh as he forces a cum-soaked kiss onto your mouth. "Just as I thought, you were just what I needed."

Utterly defeated, you pull away with a gasp. "...I'm happy to serve you, Master Satoru."

"Such a nice sentence from your mouth, true or not." He gives you one more kiss, to the crown of your head. Too tender, too raw. "Prepare yourself to service me a bit more, then."

[atlabeth]

too sweet

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: a night out makes hotch realize a few too many things.

a/n: me??? writing for criminal minds again out of nowhere??? what is going on. and i do not have an answer i was just in a hotch mood bc he's fine asf and i finally have the confidence to write for him here we are lol. hope u enjoy this short lil thing

wc: 2.4k

warning(s): alcohol consumption, a sexual joke or two, written in one go so might be a mess! aaron is all in his head but this is basically all fluff

Hotch can’t focus. 

Mostly because he can’t stop glancing over at you. Normally it’s not a problem—he’d lost count of how many times he’d distracted himself from mounds of paperwork by meeting your eyes through his office window, often accompanied by a smile that made even his heart beat a little faster—and especially now, it shouldn’t be a problem. 

You and Derek have had some kind of bet going on during the past few nights out—you didn’t believe he was as charming and suave as he claimed, and Morgan was all too happy to prove you wrong.

You bet that he couldn’t get at least five numbers every night, and come last Thursday, Morgan took the win at the end of the evening with a smile on his face. As punishment, the first round of their next night out was on you. 

And that’s nice, sure. Hotch is always thankful that his team can still joke around and have fun with each other despite everything they have to deal with each day. He hopes they keep the light in their eyes as long as possible, especially the younger ones. He’s fine with being the stick in the mud, the one who never smiles, the iron willed chief that scares local uniforms.

Hotch is not so fine with the way he feels right now. 

It’s a busy night at the bar, which is understandable. Hotch is sure half the precinct is out alongside them, celebrating the BAU finally solving the case that had torn them to shreds over the past week. You, Reid, and Garcia put the threads together an hour into scouring through evidence, and the unsub was cuffed before noon. 

Certainly something to celebrate—there’s a reason the whole team agreed to go out tonight and leave tomorrow. Even Rossi decided to join when he learned you would be buying, but he’s already abandoned them in favor of catching up with some old friends. Hotch even thinks they might have another round in their future because of their solve, courtesy of the local chief. They had a long night ahead of them. 

But you haven’t gotten the drinks yet, and Hotch wonders how long it’ll take even after you do. Because some officer is trying to talk you up, and you’re smiling and laughing along and giving him every bit of your attention. 

Hotch recognized him the moment he set eyes upon him, even in plain clothes. He’s some joke of an officer from the station, and he’s been trying to get your number—or even just get your attention—throughout their whole visit. Always sidling up to you during debriefs, specifically giving you any information or evidence he finds—Hotch has overheard him asking for your number more than once. 

Hotch has been so focused on the case he’s not even sure if you’ve rejected him or not, and the mere thought is enough to annoy him. If he wasn’t equally as sure of your ability to defend yourself and afraid of overstepping with you, he would have stepped in. 

But it makes sense. The officer is young and handsome, you’re young and pretty—not to mention you have a way of lighting up any room you step into. Hotch spent the whole first month of your employment wondering why you would want to do a job like this. He’s spent the rest of it thankful that you did. 

You’re sharp as a whip, naturally, but you’ve also done wonders for the team atmosphere. It’s hard to feel down with a smile like yours beaming his way. The job weighs you down like it does everyone, but you still manage to lift everyone’s spirits on the jet ride back before they jump into the next case. It’s impressive. 

It’s also trouble. You’ve been part of the BAU for almost two years now, and Hotch has spent just as much time tearing his eyes away from you as he has working. It’s wrong, and it’s wholly inappropriate in terms of your working relationship—he’s your boss, for god’s sake. 

But sometimes, Hotch will be beating himself up over one thing or another on a case, and you’ll plant yourself in his vicinity and refuse to leave until you’ve helped him work through it. If you ever tire of the FBI, he thinks you have a second calling as an elementary school teacher. 

Sometimes the hotel they’re staying at will have truly shitty coffee, worse than they’re used to at the BAU, and you’ll already be in the lobby with a tray full of the team’s orders. Hotch never recalls telling you his order—you just figured it out, and you remembered it. 

Sometimes his gaze will drift your way, and he’ll find you already staring at him. You look away just as quickly as he does, and it makes him wonder. 

Hotch has made a living off of studying the behavior of others. More often than not, he finds himself profiling his co-workers just out of instinct. His job is to know what others are thinking. 

But god. When it comes to you, Hotch doesn’t think he’s ever felt more unsure in his life. Especially when you look at him the same way he wants to for weeks, then act nothing but proper another day; when you fall asleep against his shoulder on the jet one night and entertain some desk jockey another night. 

It makes him feel like a highschooler again, trying to figure out if Haley really liked him or if she was just playing around, and it’s more embarrassing than it should be. Especially when he’s still dealing with the lingering emotions from the divorce. 

“Hotch.” JJ’s voice is enough to break him out of his trance, and he blinks as he turns to her. At least someone paid him the mercy to dispel his thoughts, even if only for a temporary time. 

“What?” 

“Did you hear a single word I said?” she asks, a slight smile curving on her lips. 

“Of course,” he responds. “The chief’s over there talking with the commissioner. He’s the same guy who made your life difficult the last time we were in Milwaukee.” 

JJ’s eyebrows shoot up, and she nods. “I didn’t think you were listening.” 

“I think he just got lucky,” Morgan cuts in, his gaze darting over to you momentarily. “I think you were too focused on our drinks.” 

Reid frowns. “I don’t think he was focused on the drinks. He’s—” 

“Just making sure they’re still coming,” Hotch interrupts, and he straightens his tie. Today really has been a long one—usually, he’s better at covering these things up. “And I wasn’t lucky. I was listening.” 

“Trust me,” Morgan says with a laugh, “I’m watchin’ her until I’ve got a glass in my hand. She’s not getting out of this after the way she bragged this whole month.” 

“The stupidest thing to make a bet on,” Prentiss remarks, “especially with you.” 

“She said she just wanted to prove you wrong,” Reid contributes. “She thinks you’re too cocky.” 

Morgan grins. “It’s not cocky if you can back it up.” 

Hotch’s attention goes back to you, and you’ve finally gotten their drinks. You’re loading them onto a tray like you’re the bartender yourself, and his brows crease. Maybe he should have gone up with you. 

“Do you think she needs help?” he asks. How obvious is too obvious? Why does it feel like his brain only works at half power whenever it comes to you? 

“She’ll be fine,” Prentiss says. “And if she needs it, that guy talking her up can help.” 

“Jason Rodriguez,” Reid remarks. “He hung around her the whole time we were trying to pinpoint a location, and he wasn’t any help, which makes sense because he's practically desk-bound at the precinct. I’m surprised she got any work done.” 

JJ chuckles. “I’m surprised he hasn’t given up yet. He’s been following her around all week, like some lost puppy.” 

Morgan shrugs. “I dunno. She seems pretty into him.” 

“I don’t think ex-frat boys are her type,” Prentiss says wryly. Hotch doesn’t think so either, but he doesn’t say anything. Contributing to this kind of conversation is certainly too obvious.  

“I doubt we’ll be back here for a while. She might as well.” Morgan smiled. “She probably needs a win after such an embarrassing loss.” 

Thankfully, before Hotch has to keep pretending not to care about this topic, you walk over carrying a tray of cocktails—and you’re alone. The subject of their previous conversation seems lost in the crowd, and he feels a dangerous amount of relief. 

“Are you all talking about me?” you drawl. 

“You know we are, sweetheart. Thought you were never gonna get here.” Morgan sits up, smiling at you. “What’d my win get us?” 

“Long Island Iced Teas,” you muse as you set the tray down. “Enjoy it, because I’m gonna be working some overtime to make up for all these.” 

Morgan grins as he takes his drink. “You should’ve never doubted my skills.” 

“I’m surprised you didn’t need any help,” Prentiss says. “You’ve done this before, huh?” 

“Bartended my way through college.” You slide into the booth next to Hotch, just a bit too close for a bit too long, and he hopes that no one can see his chest still for a moment. It’s impressive that he still hasn’t figured out how to lessen the effect you have on him. “I’ve probably got better hands than you, Morgan.” 

“Do we need to make another bet?” he asks. “Because I’d love to clean out your wallet.” 

“Maybe wait another month before you prey on any more poor, defenseless agents,” you croon, and Morgan laughs. 

He pivots the conversation away from you when you pick up your drink and take a sip, and you look at Hotch. Whenever your gaze is on him, you make him feel like he’s the only person in the room. He’s sure you never look at anyone else that way, but Hotch wonders how much of that is his mind trying to justify his imagination. 

“I’m surprised you agreed with this,” you say, mercifully interrupting his thoughts. “I thought you’d want us to go back tonight.” 

“You all earned a night out after the work you did,” Hotch says. He thinks about taking a drink, but he decides against it, at least for now. He can barely trust his sober mind. 

“You’ve earned it too,” you say. “We wouldn’t be anywhere without you, Hotch. You keep us all together.” 

He shakes his head. “I don’t think I ever would’ve connected the dots like you and Reid can with Garcia. I hate unsubs with secret codes.” 

“I’ve always liked puzzles,” you muse. “There’s nothin’ like it when it all finally clicks.” 

Hotch hums, and for a moment, he’s silent. Your gaze remains fully on him, and that might be why he has trouble thinking. It’s too easy to get lost in your eyes. 

“What did that guy say?” Hotch finally manages to ask, because he honestly can’t help it. Morgan’s points actually worried him a bit, and he wonders what that says about him. Ex-frat boy certainly isn’t your type, but someone forgettable for a one night stand isn’t the most absurd thing in the world. 

Your brows knit together as you drink some more. “What guy?”

“The officer you were talking with,” he says. “He seemed to like you.” 

He’d been flirting with you since the moment you stepped into the precinct, actually, desperate for your attention, but Hotch didn’t really want to say that. He’s sure you noticed either way, if the rest of the team did. 

“Oh. Him.” You shrug. “He’s nice, I guess. Definitely a looker. But he’s got nothing beneath that hair.” 

“Morgan’s surprised you didn’t bring him back,” Hotch says. He wonders if he’s pushing too much, and again, he feels like a highschooler testing the waters. Do you know what you do to him? What you reduce him to? 

You shrug as you take a sip. “If he knows what’s good for him, he knows he doesn’t have a chance. My attention’s on someone else.” 

Prentiss calls your name and you get drawn back into the middle of the team’s conversation, and thankfully, Hotch has a chance to digest your words—and the stunner of a smile you flash at him before you get pulled into their talk. 

His decision to not drink seems even wiser, now. Hotch has to loosen his tie, and he ignores Reid watching him. It’s futile trying to hide anything from Spencer Reid—the kid already knows everything. 

Again, it's dangerous how much satisfaction he gets from it—from knowing you never really paid that officer a second thought. You didn’t smile at him the way you smile at Hotch. You don’t smile at anyone the way you smile at Hotch. He thought he was imagining it at first, or that he was just a bit too stuck up, but it was the honest truth. You paid him special attention, and he couldn’t blame the warmth in his chest from the thought on any alcohol. 

He tunes back into the conversation just to hear Morgan demand you pay for his next drink. 

“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous,” you say. 

He puts a hand to his chest. “Generous? You’re just paying what you owe me.” 

You laugh and shake your head. “Pick your poison, pretty boy.” 

“How do you feel about tequila?” 

You make a noise of disgust and shake your head. “As long as I don’t have to drink it.” 

“You’re just paying, sweetheart.” Morgan’s eyes dart to Hotch, and he nods as he grins. “One for me and our fearless leader.” 

Hotch shakes his head. “Someone has to get us back to the hotel.” 

“That’s what cabs are for!” Prentiss exclaims. “Don’t be such a stick in the mud, Hotchner. You deserve to let a little loose.” 

“It takes most people an hour to process a drink,” Reid contributes, “so you’ll be fine before we leave if you want to drive.” 

“Come on, Hotch,” you say, and you nudge his shoulder. “You might as well—I’m paying.” 

“...Fine,” he says, and the whole team cheers. Even Reid smiles. 

“Y’know, you can smile tonight, Hotch,” you say with one of your own before you down the rest of your drink and stand up.

And one actually tugs at his lips. It feels a lot hotter in this bar with your eyes sparkling and you beaming right at him, and he fights the need to shed his jacket. Your grin somehow grows. 

“That’s what I came out to see,” you remark as you pick your wallet back up from the table. “I expect another when I get back, Hotch. There’s a lot to celebrate tonight.” 

Yeah, he thinks as he watches you go. There just might be. 

[pomefioredove]

If the flirtatious lines event is still happening, I do have a little request, and this is absolutely not forced!

Could you do “You’re a shy little thing, aren’t you?” With Leona x reader? Here’s a little twist, though; The reader is the one saying that to Leona! I absolutely adore the idea of Leona being super shy when in love, seeing normally tough characters be out-of-character when they have a crush is ADORABLE to me! Plus, I don’t see enough of reader being the teasing one in Leona x reader fics.

Thank you for listening, have a lovely day/night!

ooh this makes SO much sense though, I see your vision!!

summary: "you’re a shy little thing, aren’t you?" type of post: short fic characters: leona additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, probably really ooc idk

It's not the first time you've run into him, and it won't be the last.

It was annoying at first; your clumsiness, and that perpetual look of confusion and awe in your eyes...

You didn't belong here.

That was the first thing Leona thought about you.

Your good nature, the way you stupidly stumbled into trouble time and time again, even that look on your face; you'd make an easy meal for any predator.

And, as luck would have it, that would be him.

Though he certainly doesn't feel like the top of the food chain now.

"Talk to them," Ruggie pesters, hovering around his boss like a fly. Leona is tempted to swat him away.

"No,"

He puts a hand on his hip. "I don't see what the big deal is. You deal with being a prince your whole life, but you get choked up at the Prefect?"

Annoying. Leona is tempted to make a rude gesture, but his social etiquette gets the best of him.

"I am not choked up, but you're going to be unless you get lost," he says in a tone far too quiet.

He's lucky that Leona is in a merciful mood today.

"Suit yourself," Ruggie shrugs, sticking his hands in his pockets and heading towards the exit.

Good. Leona didn't come here to talk about the Prefect, anyway.

Of all the stupid things...

He lies back in his original position, trying to drown out the sound of your voice and get some sleep. You're here with a group, doing some potionology thing, he figures. Great.

One of your friends makes you laugh, and he feels a strange sense of jealousy.

"I'll get the poppy," you sound rather pleased with yourself.

Though, as hard as he tries, he can't seem to dislike you.

A rustle, and then another beam of sunlight hits the secluded little spot, illuminating the both of you.

"Oh!" you say, eyes wide. "Sorry, Leona. Didn't mean to disturb you."

Always so polite. He wonders if that's just for show, or if you're being genuine.

"Mhm," he hums. He can't find it within himself to tell you off. It's like he's forgotten how to speak.

And he can't look at you.

"It's not over here..." you say under your breath. You're not even doing anything and he finds you endearing. "Well... sorry again."

Ruggie's words are still fresh in his mind- the pest- and he sighs.

"Wait," Leona says, standing. "You're looking for poppy? I know where it is."

You seem to hesitate. Not a good sign. "...I don't want to trouble you..."

"It would be more rude to turn down such a generous offer," he rebuffs. That's more like it.

And, so, you follow him. It feels nice, stringing you along for once.

Leona says nothing. With anyone else, he would've made at least one comment by now- no, with anyone else, he wouldn't have offered his help in the first place.

He brings you to another part of the botanical gardens, and shows you a row of potted poppies. Crewel had the second years move them yesterday.

"Ah, here they are. Thank you!" you smile. It's almost... cute. Ugh.

He says nothing.

You collect your material, and begin the walk back with him. He can feel your eyes on him, and he can tell there's something you want to ask.

"...You don't say much,"

Great. Leona huffs. Why does he feel so hot, all of a sudden? "I just have nothing to say,"

Even he sounds unsure of what he's claiming. You raise an eyebrow, a small smile gracing your lips.

"You’re a shy little thing, aren’t you?"

And you're driving me mad, he thinks, but all he can do is grunt in response.

He feels nervous. Always so nervous around you.

Leona would never admit what those words did to him, but he didn't need to. He could feel the embarrassment on his face.

You stop at the mouth of the gardens. Your friends are waiting outside.

"Thanks again," you smile. It's genuine. He can't keep eye contact with you.

"...Sure,"

"Just, ah..." you say, looking between him and your puny first year friends as they call you over. "Let me know what I can do to repay the favor, okay?"

So naive. You're practically serving yourself on a silver platter. Like he originally thought, an easy meal for any predator.

...But, for once, that predator isn't him.

And he's actually going to have to work for this.

[killerlookz]

Heartbeat | Joost Klein

description: Joost Klein x f! reader- In the months following reader and Joost's breakup, neither of you seem to be able to get rid of each other, not even when you've supposedly "moved on" to other people. (heavily inspired by the narrative in Heartbeat by Childish Gambino)

content: 18+ NSFW, cheating, toxic relationships, arguing, angst, some comfort?cigarettes, alcohol, questionable morals, just some mess mess messy stuff, semi-public "suggestive" behavior, fingering, unprotected PiV. This work contains RPF, and has been tagged as such do not click forward if that upsets you and do not share my work to other sites.

word count: 7634

An unlit cigarette hangs from your sticky, freshly glossed lips, your hands racing to tie the slippery satin ties of your dressing robe. A knock at the door draws you from where you stand in front of your bathroom to the front door. You flip over the locks before carefully turning the doorknob to open it.

A tiny smile forms on your lips as the door opens, revealing your boyfriend, staring down at you. Michael, a man nearly a decade your senior, eight and a half years older than you to be exact, a handsome business-type man who had moved to the Netherlands for work from the States, Boston specifically, though, he didn't have the accent. The pair of you had been casually dating for nearly four months now, though, you could sense that at any moment he'd ask to take things in a more serious direction.

You quickly remove the cigarette from your lips, balancing it between two fingers as you speak,

"Hi!" Your voice expressing greater enthusiasm than you were actually feeling, "You're early." You grit your teeth through the grin that spreads across your face, "I thought you weren't supposed to be coming for another hour."

"Good to see you too," He smiles back, but you can sense a hint of patronization in his words, "I figured, it was already getting kind of late, and I didn't see a problem with heading out a little early. I texted you anyways, but you never responded."

You nod, remembering that you had purposefully left your phone in the kitchen to rid yourself of any distractions while you were getting ready. While you suppose it was nice of him to let you know he'd becoming early, it would have been nicer if he asked first instead of just doing.

"Getting late," You force a fake chuckle, one that turns out more like a scoff, "The sun has barely set, who wants to go to the bar when it's still light outside?"

"Not everyone enjoys staying out until the crack of dawn." He raises his eyebrows, his voice serious in a way that makes you uneasy.

"It's Saturday!" You beam, "Come on, let loose a little." Michael wasn't exactly the party type- at least not now, it had taken a whole lot of convincing to even get him to go out with you and your friends tonight. "We're still going to have to wait anyways," you shrug, opening the door wider to allow him inside, "Julia won't be here for at least an hour, but you know her and being on time." You giggle awkwardly, unsure of what the two of you would do to fill the time while you finished getting ready.

"Right," He shakes his head before his brows furrow, "What's all over your face?"

Your facial expression contorts, confused, "Uh- makeup?"

"Oh pumpkin," He sighs, his voice like saccharin, exceptionally sweet and unimaginably fake. The pet name makes your stomach curdle, and you attempt to press a smile to your lips to hide the way you cringe, "I thought we talked about how I prefer to see you naturally."

You giggle, stunned at the fact he was bringing up this argument again, one you had had far too many times for how short of a while you had been seeing each other, "And I thought we talked about how much I hate it when you call me pumpkin."

"I just don't think you look any better with all that shit on your face, is it wrong of me to think that my girlfriend is beautiful?" There's an argumentative tone in the way he speaks, but you can't even focus on the potential fight that is brewing, not when the word girlfriend is ringing in your ears.

"No," You sigh, not wanting to argue not now, all the energy being knocked out of you with that simple word, "Do you want something to drink while I finish getting ready?"

"Yeah," He lets out a breath, slightly annoyed, "Yeah- sure what do you have?" He lets his tone return back to normal.

"Depends," You step backward, away from the man, towards the small kitchen of your apartment "Do you want something alcoholic or..." You trail off, stepping all the way into the kitchen.

Michael's eyes linger on you as he scratches at the back of his neck, "That's fine." He shakes his head, "Just get me a beer or something."

You nod, opening up the fridge, scowering around, unsure if you even had a beer in there. After pushing some things around, you'd found a singular bottle, you push your arm further into the cold to grab it.

You retreat back to the warmth of the rest of your kitchen, beer bottle in hand, as you kick it closed, both hands now preoccupied as the unlit cigarette still rests between your fingers. Wordlessly, you place the bottle on the kitchen counter in front of where Michael is now sitting before stepping back to search for a bottle opener.

From the corner of your eye you can see your phone light up, resting right where you had left it on the counter before you had begun to get ready. Thinking perhaps Julia was letting you know she was on her way or even worse that she was here now, you quickly shuffle over to it

Upon looking down at the screen you quickly realize it is not Julia who had texted you or any of your other friends who you had intended on seeing tonight.

Joost: It's been a while, what are you doing tonight? Come over?

The simple messages nearly make you choke on your breath as your eyes quickly flick up toward Michael. Joost was just about Michael's complete opposite- he was something exciting, the type of person where you could never guess their next move, no routine, no planning, no nothing- just go go go. Perhaps that discrepancy could be attributed to the fact that, unlike Michael, Joost had only been older than you by a year, his 24th birthday approaching in the fall. Still, even at Joost's age, you couldn't imagine Michael being much fun.

Unfortunately for you, you had let yourself indulge in the excitement that Joost brought to your life in entirely self-destructive ways. Joost had been one of the first people you had met when you moved to the Netherlands, and things moved quick between the two of you, from the moment you met it had felt like you had known him your whole life. Within a few months of living in a brand new country, you had already found yourself with a boyfriend, having rushed way too quickly into a relationship with Joost, and you quickly learned that no matter how much it had felt like you two had known each other your whole lives, the truth was you didn't really know him.

It was a true whirlwind romance, taking your life by storm, every moment consumed by each other. You both had fallen hard and fast. But for as hard as you had fallen, you crashed much harder. Joost was a perfect boyfriend in every area except for the ones that really mattered. It was obvious how completely in love with you he was, he was soft, and romantic, and fucked you in ways that made you feel things you didn't even know were possible.

But for all of his good, for all of his sweet gestures and affection, he couldn't seem to crack the communication thing. At first, you didn't mind when he skirted around the little issues that arose between the two of you, you knew he had things rough growing up and so you gave him grace, figuring opening up to people and dealing with certain emotions was probably difficult for him. But soon enough the "little issues" were not so little, turning into large, glaring problems in your relationship that no matter how hard you had pleaded for him to, Joost would refuse to discuss. Eventually, it had gotten too much, the two of you constantly at each other's throats, and with Joost icing you out whenever things got rough, you had had enough.

Still, you don't get rid of feelings like that so easily, and for the life of you, you could just not stay away from Joost. As hard as you tried to, you had never actually stopped seeing him despite the fact how much things had changed, things weren't quite so sweet and romantic anymore, but to be honest with yourself, if he fucked you good while the two of you were in love, he fucks you 10 times better when you hate each other's guts.

But maybe hate is too strong of a word, oddly enough feeling bad for Joost when you decide you're not going to respond to his text. At some point in the week, you had made the decision that with how imminent a serious relationship with Michael felt, it was probably high time for you to stop hooking up with your ex-boyfriend. It wasn't exactly a decision you were planning on alerting said ex-boyfriend of, no- that made it real, if you were to tell him you never wanted to see him again, it would become real, you were never going to see him again. Ghosting him seemed like the better option, simply leaving things open-ended, it at least allowed for you to change your mind- which you were deadset on not doing.

Michael's voice takes you out of your thoughts, quickly swiping away the message and turning your phone over.

"Hmm?" You hum, looking up, fluttering your eyelashes innocently.

"A bottle opener?" He points to the cap of the drink you had set down in front of him. You throw a smile onto your face, nodding incessantly,

"Right!" You search through a drawer for a bottle opener before pushing it across the counter towards Michael. You continue to ruffle through the crowded junk drawer, looking for a lighter with no such luck. Feeling far too lazy to go rifle through your purse to find one, with the cigarette still in hand you walk over to the stove, turning the burner to its lowest setting, just enough for a small flame to erupt. Carefully, pinching the cigarette by its very end, you quickly stick it in the small flame, allowing it to light.

You shut the burner off, placing the cigarette to your lips, inhaling, allowing your lungs to fill with the warm, prickly smoke.

"Do you really need to do that in here?" Michael asks, his face forming into a scowl, "Or at all."

You turn to the side to exhale, careful not to blow the smoke in Michael's direction no matter how bad you want to.

"Relax," You smile, "The windows are open."

"Are you even allowed to smoke in here?"

"What are you, my landlord?" You furrow your eyebrows, taking another drag, "One cigarette won't get me kicked out."

"Can't say I'm enjoying your little miss attitude act tonight."

You're not in the mood to argue, simply sighing and forcing an apologetic look on your face, though you had felt like there was nothing to apologize for.

"Sorry," You mumble, "Let me just go finish getting ready."

The area that surrounds you is noisy, alive with all that the city's nightlife has to offer, almost overwhelmingly so. You lean against a wall, observing the swarm of people that inhabit the bar.

"You know," Your friend, Julia, pipes up from beside you, "You really shouldn't let him talk to you like that."

You bite at the insides of your cheeks, replaying the conversation shared between you and Michael just before entering the bar.

Stepping out of the car, your skirt had gotten pulled up quite a bit from having been sitting, your underwear almost on display as you climbed out of the backseat.

"Jesus," Michael scolded as he followed you out of the car, "Who are you showing off for?"

"Huh?" You whipped your head around, trying to ascertain if you had actually heard him right.

Michael leans over, his voice rough as he speaks into your ear,

"Pull your fucking skirt down, you look like you should be standing in the windows in De Wallen."

You clench your jaw, eyes flicking to Julia who was walking around the other side of the car, she shakes her head disapprovingly.

"What's so wrong with that? I'm sure the women in De Wallen are lovely ladies."

"I don't care how lovely they might be, I don't want my girlfriend walking around looking like a hooker."

You sigh, you know Julia is right, Michael was out of line, as he usually was. You stare the man down from where he stands by the bar, looking to squeeze in amongst the crowd that surrounds it in to order some drinks. Your face involuntarily twists into a grimace as you watch him pathetically try and fail to get the attention of the bartender. You want to go home.

"I just don't know why you keep him around." She shrugs, "I mean, I know he's got money and all, but I don't think it makes up for the fact that he has got to be the most stuck-up, grumpy man I have ever met in my life- seriously he's thirty, not seventy-five."

"I don't know," You furrow your eyebrows, "I guess he's stable and stuff- or whatever, you know?"

"Michael? Stable? The man that not thirty minutes ago all but called you a prostitute because your skirt got pulled up."

"I mean stable like he has a good job and stuff, he's normal, regimented, life with him has a routine- I think I need that, maybe he'll mellow me out, I don't know."

"Don't be ridiculous, you're far too young to be mellowed out," Julia pouts, "I mean, really, the party is just getting started for you." Julia's eyes suddenly widen, her lips parting as she speaks cautiously, "Speaking of party..."

"What?" Your eyes widen too, confused, you quickly whip your head around to look in the direction she's staring off in, "Shit." You mutter as your eyes meet the door, and there he is, Joost fucking Klein followed by a group of what looked to be about 5 of his friends. You barely manage to inhale, "I need a fucking cigarette."

Without looking back at Julia, you're making your way to the door, praying that neither Joost nor his friends see you on the way out.

The summer air hits you as you step through the exit onto the bustling city street. You wondered how mad everyone would be at you if you decided to leave right now- bail without a word, run home, and spend the night alone.

You grab at the purse that sits over your shoulder, pulling it down your arm so you can rummage through it, looking for your cigarettes and a lighter.

You flip open the cardboard box, removing a single cigarette, putting it between your lips before reaching back into your purse to fetch your lighter.

You flick the jagged metal of the lighter, the grooves digging into your thumb as you light the end of your cigarette. You toss the lighter back into your purse before slinging the bag back over your shoulder.

You're able to get a few drags in before you're interrupted by a voice, one that immediately makes your stomach sink.

"Ignoring me now, are we?" You don't even have to look, you already know- you'd recognize that voice anywhere, it's Joost.

You whip your head to the side, confirming your suspicions, seeing the slender frame of your ex-boyfriend hanging just outside the entrance of the bar.

"Stalking me now, are we?" You respond, hoping the snark in your voice masks everything else you are feeling.

"I'd hardly call showing up to the same bar stalking," He smirks, walking toward you, "But I mean- if you're into that sort of thing we can pretend I was."

You roll your eyes, taking a long drag of your cigarette, hoping for some sort of head rush from the nicotine.

Joost's features come better into focus as he nears closer to you, messy blonde hair spilling over his forehead, falling into his eyes, a piercing blue as he stares into you, a smirk lingering on his soft pink lips.

"Can I get a smoke?" He asks, innocently enough. You want to say no, so desperately you want to tell him to go away, to leave you alone, that you need to start a life without him.

"Oh-yeah, sure." A sheepish smile crosses your face, your words betraying you, unable to force out any sort of rejection towards him.

You let your already lit cigarette rest between your lips, taking your purse off your shoulders again, grabbing the cigarettes and lighter once more. You shove your hand, presenting the objects to Joost for him to take, his fingers carefully grazing the back of your hand as he does, his touch lingering on you for just a little too long as the two of you stare each other down. Shivers run down your spine, and your chest suddenly becomes tight, he was completely gorgeous- damn him.

"You okay?" He raises an eyebrow, a chuckle falling from his lips, he's not really asking sincerely. You can only hum in response, not wanting to say too much. Things were not usually this awkward between the two of you, and you could feel that you were the one causing it.

You watch intently as Joost lights his cigarette before pushing the pack into his pocket, and you make a mental note to yourself to get them back from him before you go back inside.

"So," He starts, exhaling a plume of grey smoke, "My place or yours tonight?"

"I'm going to my place, and you are going to yours." You respond, forcefully, annoyed at his insinuation that you would be sleeping with him tonight.

"Is that so?" He responds challengingly, his eyes lighting up.

"Yes." You nod, having none of his banter, "And-" You cut yourself off, debating if you even want to say what is about to come out of your mouth next. "I think we should stop this. Us, we need to stop."

"I've heard that one before," Joost chuckles.

"I'm being serious." You let your head fall to the side, "I can't keep seeing you."

Joost's face suddenly drops, understanding the weight of your words,

"What changed?" He scoffs, bewildered at your spontaneous proclamation, "Because if I recall correctly, just last week you were begging for me to come over."

"It's not fair to Michael," You shake your head, "I need to move on, we need to move on."

A grimace forms on Joost's face,

"You want to pull the good girlfriend act now?" His eyes widen, "As if cutting things off now will erase the past-what-four months?"

"I don't want to argue with you about this, Joost," You bite your lip, realizing just how unprepared you really were to cut things off with him, "I know I can't erase what happened, but I'd at least like to try to be better." Your lip quivers, and you clench your jaw, eyes fluttering as you fight back tears. You don't want to give him the chance to reply, you know with the right words he'd be able to talk you right back into bed with him, you can't let that happen.

You let your cigarette fall from your fingers, crushing it into the ground with the heel of your shoe.

"I'm sorry," You mutter, refusing to make eye contact with Joost as you brush past him, rushing back inside.

It was a miracle you had stayed out this late with everything that had occurred tonight, but there you were, still standing at the bar as the clock neared midnight, a feigned half-drunk smile pressed to your lips as you stared at Michael.

You tried to ignore the way Joost's eyes burned into you from across the room, but no matter what you did you could feel he was there, ever-present.

"What do you say to another round?" Julia smirks, leaning over the bar.

"Fine by me." You grin, anything to make tonight more bearable.

"Nuh-uh," Michael shakes his head, "You're cut off." He points directly at you, his finger almost in your face.

"What?" You laugh, caught off guard by his sudden controlling-ness

"You, you're cut off, you've had too much."

You furrow your eyebrows, you're not completely coherent, but you're absolutely nowhere near blackout.

"I had four drinks," You continue to giggle awkwardly, "Are you joking?"

His face stays stiff, he's serious.

"I don't think that's really your call to make." A smile lingers on your face as you attempt to keep the conversation light-hearted, but you can feel some sort of anger bubbling inside you.

"It is when I'm the one who's going to have to take care of you."

"It's one more drink, I think I'll be okay."

"Sure, one drink, which turns into two, and then three... you don't know how to control yourself, which is why I'm cutting you off." His voice begins to rise, and your eyes dart around the room anxiously, you hope the noise of the bar can drown out the argument that is brewing.

"I don't know how to control myself?" You scoff, "Is that really what you think of me?"

"You haven't exactly proven me any different, I've seen you, I know how you get on nights out, God forbid I don't want to have to deal with you sloppy and belligerent for the rest of the night." His words become harsher sounding, and more pointed as he continues to speak.

"What do you mean 'how I get'? I barely go out anymore because you don't like it, I would just like to let loose a little for once." You begin to match his tone, unable to hide your growing frustration.

"And you should thank me for that," His eyes narrow, "You don't need to be running around partying every weekend, acting like a complete fucking mess."

You clench your jaw, face forming a scowl, you can't believe the words leaving Michael's mouth right now,

"Don't curse at me." You mutter.

"No, I'll say whatever the fuck I want to, and maybe you should show me some respect for once, and listen."

"Oh!" You respond, a little too loud, drawing a few glances from the people who surround you, "You want to talk about respect? That's rich coming from the man who doesn't seem to respect any of my personal decisions, not the way I do my makeup, or how I dress, or when I want to go out, last time I checked, constantly berating your girlfriend isn't exactly respectful."

"Get a grip, y/n," He rolls his eyes, "Yeah, no shit I don't want my girlfriend parading herself around like some sort of fucking tramp."

It takes everything in you to not escalate things further, to not tell him what you had been doing behind his back, if he thought you were a tramp, oh you could show him tramp.

You inhale deeply, deciding to cut the conversation short before you say something you'll regret,

"I don't need this." You exhale, turn around, and head for the door.

The air is cooler than before when you step outside, now that it is later into the night. Immediately you're pulling your purse down your arm, desperately sifting around for your cigarettes, needing something anything to calm you down. Your mind races as your hand combs through your bag, unable to think straight, your mind foggy from all the arguing and the alcohol.

"Fuck," You mutter, Joost, he had your cigarettes. You run a hand through your hair, pulling at the strands, tonight had been a complete disaster.

"Looking for something." A teasing voice calls, resulting in a groan from you, it was like Joost had a sixth sense for when you thought about him, always showing up as soon as he crossed your mind.

"Can you just give them to me?" Exasperation heavy in your voice, wanting nothing more than to just have a smoke, and go home.

"What happened in there?" He asks, entirely ignoring your question.

"It's nothing," You shake your head, "Can I just have my cigarettes back so I can leave."

"Didn't look like nothing." He continues.

"Well, it was," You snap, your voice getting a little too loud for your own comfort, "I'm fine. Please, Joost just give me th-"

"You don't need to lie," He cuts you off, "You know you can tell me."

"It just," You pause, lifting your head to look Joost in the eyes, "It just doesn't concern you."

"But it concerns you," His voice suddenly much softer, "So I want to know."

A small smile tugs at your lips, despite everything you were feeling, your heart is slightly warmed at Joost's interest in what had happened.

"Stupid argument," You shake your head, looking back down at the ground, "That's all."

"Seems like every time you tell me about Michael it's about an argument you guys have had."

"Well, gloating about how great of a boyfriend I have doesn't exactly make for good conversation when I'm with the person I'm cheating on him with."

"Well, do you? Have a great boyfriend?" He pushes, but the two of you both know the answer. You bite the inside of your cheeks, bringing your gaze back up to Joost, who seems to be standing much closer to you now.

Your breathing starts to tremble under his intense gaze, the smell of his cologne is suddenly strong in your nose, nearly choking you. He's expecting an answer. But you can't give him one, you can't tell Joost that you didn't have a great boyfriend mere hours after telling Joost you didn't want to see him anymore because of said not-great boyfriend.

"Look," He sighs, "I know I wasn't the best, so maybe I can't talk, but Michael is just a straight-up dick."

His bluntness earns a small chuckle from you, he wasn't wrong.

"Well, I haven't exactly been the world's best girlfriend either." You shrug, any problem with Michael seemed incomparable to the fact that at the end of the day, you were the one cheating.

"You were to me." His tone contained a romance that you hadn't heard from him in a long time.

"Joost-" You choke, your eyes widening, unsure of where he was heading with this now. How were you ever going to get over him when he constantly crossed all the wires in your brain.

You feel your body go numb as he slides his hand to your waist, you should stop him, keep your promise, and never see him again- but you can't, and most importantly, you don't want to.

"Look, I'm not insinuating anything, if you don't want to see me anymore, that's okay, you don't owe me anything not after what you put up with, with me, but what I am saying, is you do owe it to yourself, to find someone who treats you better." His words are genuine, heartfelt, and he almost feels like the Joost you once knew, the Joost from when you two had first met.

There's nothing you can say in response, instead, you push yourself up on your toes, letting your lips meet Joost's in a soft kiss. Joost wastes no time in kissing you back, his hand now gripping your waist. Something feels different with this kiss, no looming sense of guilt hovering over you, it feels right like it's what you should be doing.

You part your lips, deepening the kiss, a small groan escaping you as you feel Joost's tongue brush past yours. Your movements become sloppy, lips lazily working against each other, each kiss filled with increasingly more passion.

Stunned, Joost pulls back from the kiss, a smile on his lips, now shiny from your lipgloss, "So," He breathes, "My place or yours?" It was exactly as you had thought, so easily, Joost was able to talk you back into bed with him.

"Mines closer." You shrug, your voice suddenly timid as you reach a thumb to Joost's lips, rubbing the traces of your lipliner off of them.

The car ride home feels like years, as the vehicle crawls down the city streets you figure you have probably gotten the slowest Uber driver in the entirety of Europe.

You sit in the middle seat, your arm brushing against Joost's, the proximity is comforting, but not quite enough, you want nothing more than to be all over him.

You trail a finger to the buckle of Joost's belt, lazily tracing over the letters engraved into the metal, Albino. The sudden remembrance of Joost's proximity to fame, even if only in the Netherlands, draws a smirk on your face as you think about all the horny fangirls who would probably die to be in your position now.

"What are you doing?" Joost asks, his words slow, teasing.

"Nothing," Feigned innocence in your voice as you let your palm rest just below the buckle of his belt. Joost clenches his jaw as you let your hand trail a little lower, pressing into the fabric of his jeans, his already-defined cheekbones poking out even farther with the way his muscles strain.

"You're going to kill me, you know that?" Joost's eyebrows raise, a smile pressed to his lips. He reaches a hand behind your head, first gripping at your hair before relaxing his fingers, soothingly scratching at the back of your head.

A hum of content vibrates through your lips, satisfied at what amount of power you had over him, even if it wasn't much.

You continue to press the heel of your palm against Joost's jeans, feeling the way they tighten as he begins to stiffen beneath you. Joost sucks in a breath, his free hand moving to rest on top of yours, he grips your fingers, pulling you off of him.

"You didn't like that?" You pout.

"Does it look like I didn't like it?" He grits his teeth. Your eyes wander down his figure, focusing on his lap, a now more prominent bulge in his jeans.

The car suddenly comes to a halt, forcing your gaze to the window- you were home, and now you're scrambling out of the car, unable to wait any longer to get your hands on Joost.

Joost pops his head back in the car for just a moment more,

"Dankje, fijne avond!" (Thanks, goodnight) He says quickly to the driver as you pull at his arm from outside the car, impatient. "God, woman," He chuckles, shutting the car door behind him, "I'm here!"

The climb up the three stories to get to your apartment is intermittent with sloppy kisses and lingering touches. As much as you desire to get to the privacy of your apartment, you can't keep yourself off of Joost, your hips pressed into his he has you pushed against a wall surrounding the staircase, his lips trailing down your neck, surely leaving little marks you wouldn't be able to explain away.

You card your hands through his hair, gripping at the messy blonde strands,

"Joost, please," A strained whisper crawls up your throat, your hips sputtering forward, begging for some friction, "My apartment."

Joost drops his hand from where it sits against your waist, grabbing your hand, and pulling you the rest of the way up the steps.

Anxious hands fumble with your keys as you try to push them into the lock of your door, a breath of relief as you hear the satisfying click of the correct key slotting perfectly into the small space.

Before you know it, you're pushed up against the back of the door, Joost's hands pinned on either side of you, caging you in with his body. Your own hands wander Joost's body, pulling at his shirt, gripping tightly to pull him closer as your lips collide. The way you kiss is rough, animalistic like you're completely starved for him.

Joost shoves a thigh between your legs, the rough denim of his jeans now brushing against the crotch of your panties. You can't help yourself, bucking your hips forward to push yourself further against his thigh. A small sigh leaves your lips as your cunt brushes against him, suddenly feeling your arousal, your movements made slippery.

Joost's hands make their way to your hips, his touch lingering as they slide to your thighs, grabbing at the hem of your skirt, and pulling it up. He drops his leg from where it's positioned between your thighs, his large, tattooed hand now cupping your heat. He presses the heel of his palm into your crotch, rubbing harshly through the flimsy fabric of your panties. His movements send jolts of electricity through your body, only making you crave him more as your arousal pools.

His fingertips push at your slit over what little clothes separate the two of you, teasing what you really want.

"Liefje," He smirks, pulling away from the kiss, "So wet for me I can feel it through your panties."

Your face grows hot, slightly ashamed at how quick you had become so aroused. Joost's fingers find themselves brushing at the seams of your underwear, hooking into the fabric ever-so-slightly. Your body grows tense as he teases you, his position making it seem like he's about to pull the delicate lace to the side, but he doesn't, his fingers, unmoving as he kisses at your jaw.

You can't take it, feeling so pent up that you might just explode, you knock Joost's hand from where it sits between your legs, pulling the crotch of your panties to the side yourself before pushing your fingers to your clit. You rub small circles to the delicate nerves, gasps leaving your mouth as pleasure rushes through you. You let your fingers dip lower, collecting your arousal on your fingers as they glide through your folds, towards your aching entrance.

Joost finally clocks what you're doing, his lips leaving your jaw, his hand reaching down to cover yours.

"So impatient," He purrs, his breath hot against your neck, reminding you of your proximity, "Here, let me help you."

With his own hand, Joost guides your fingers up and down your soaked pussy, before completely taking the work over himself, your hand now resting at your side as he continues.

With a single finger, he teases your hole, rubbing around it, threatening to dip his fingers in, you shove your hips forward, silently begging for it. He gets the memo, as much as he loves to feel you squirm below him, he loves pleasuring you so much more.

Before long he's pushing a second finger into you, a groan leaving your lips at the way you stretch around him. His thumb taps at your clit, sending extra pangs of pleasure through your body. You can do nothing but lean your head against the door behind you, lips parted with your jaw slack, in complete awe of how good Joost could make you feel with simply just his fingers. He knew his way around your body even better than you knew yourself, able to draw you to an orgasm much quicker than when you went solo. He knew just where to press, just where to rub to make you whine, and stutter filthy curses.

"What was that about never wanting to see me again?" He coos into your ear, and you pick up an almost wickedness in his voice.

"Fuck you," You sputter, voice strained from the magic his fingers are working against your cunt.

"Yeah," Joost sighs, "I'd bet you'd like to."

He's right, absolutely, completely right, and you're melting below him, turning to mush under his touch.

"Lucky for you, I'd love to fuck you too," He removes his fingers from your cunt, "And I don't think I can wait much longer."

Your pussy is left throbbing, feeling your heavy pulse between your thighs as you clench around nothing, aching from the lack of stimulation. Joost presses two fingers to his lips, shiny from your slick, enveloping them with his mouth, moaning slightly at the taste of you on his tongue.

"So good," He mumbles as he pops his fingers from his mouth, "Now, c'mon." He's grabbing you by your wrist, pulling you to your bedroom.

You nearly stumble onto your bed, leaning face first on the edge of the mattress while your feet still rest on the ground below you, ass up.

Joost stands behind you, his hips pressed into your ass. You whine as his stiff cock brushes against your exposed cunt through the thick denim of his jeans. You can feel the cool metal of his belt buckle press into you as he leans forward, hands trailing up your torso as he kisses your shoulder blades.

You arch your back farther, looking for some friction, desperately trying to grind your cunt against him. Joost's hands linger on your body as he lets you search for some relief, helping you just a little by bucking his hips ever so slightly. He gropes at your tits, hands crawling into your shirt to get a better feel. He pinches the pebbled surface of your hardened nipples, making you squeal, his breath tickles your neck as he chuckles at your reaction.

Soon enough he removes his hands from you, and his hips no longer press into your thighs. You're impatient as you hear the clinging of his belt buckle. your pussy instinctively clenching as the sound meets your ears like you've been trained to know what's next. You hear a small sigh leave Joost's mouth followed by what sounds like him pulling his pants down, the belt once again clinging as it hits the floor. You peek behind you, biting your lip as you marvel at the sight before your eyes, Joost, naked from the waist down, his cock hard, tip throbbing an angry shade of red. He's gripping the bottom of his shirt, exposing the trail of blonde hair that leads to his pubic area. His shirt comes all the way off, leaving him entirely undressed behind you.

"See something you like, hm?" He asks, teasingly, noticing the way you stare at him, bottom lip tucked between your teeth.

You can't even respond, not as he walks closer to you, your brain dizzy with the knowledge of what is about to come next. You return your gaze forward as Joost's hands find their way to your hips, fingertips gripping your flesh. You gasp as you feel the tip of his cock brush against your folds. You have to fight the urge to instinctively push back against him.

Joost continues to grind the shaft of his cock against your cunt, collecting your slick around its length. He pulls back a little, letting the head tease your entrance, about to push in before he stops himself,

"Wait." He breathes, "Turn around."

Slowly, you flip over, back pressed into the mattress while your legs still dangle off the sides. Joost nods, content as he steps between your legs.

"Take your shirt off, let me see those pretty tits." You obey, pulling the top over your head, suddenly very exposed as you had decided to forego a bra tonight. Goosebumps litter your skin as Joost slowly lowers onto his knees, he's quick about his movements, not taking time to linger or tease as he pulls both your skirt and your panties down the length of your legs. You raise your back to help him a little, lowering back onto the mattress once you feel the fabric hit your ankles. You kick off the heels you had been wearing, the pooled fabric following, now leaving you entirely exposed under Joost's lustful gaze.

He stands back up, gripping the backs of your thighs as he does so, guiding your legs up. You wrap your legs around his thighs, and Joost moves closer, his arms pinned on either side of you as his body hovers over your own. The new position allows you to move your legs to be wrapped around his hips, digging your ankles into his back to push him closer to you.

He presses a rough kiss to your jaw, an indicator of how hungry he was for you now.

"Ready for me," He mumbles into your skin.

"Mhm," You hum, "Please."

You can feel him smirk as his lips linger on your skin,

"So polite, anything for you, liefje," He coos, removing one hand from the side of you, balancing the entirety of his upper body weight on one forearm now.

He grips the base of his cock with his now free hand, messily guiding the tip through your folds before lining up with your entrance. He waits a moment before finally pushing into you, he's slow, careful. The two of you share a gasp as he slips inside of you, the way you stretch around him is familiar, but it never gets any less mind-numbing no matter how many times you find yourself in this situation.

Your fingers grip into his bicep as he slowly pushes into you at a painfully slow pace. A strangled groan leaves your mouth as he finally bottoms out. You relinquish some of your grip on his arm, fingers loosening as he begins to build up a steady pace, thrusting inside of you.

You let your head tip, and back arch, completely relaxing your body, allowing yourself to be entirely consumed by the pleasure Joost brought you.

Neither of you speak for a while, the loud moans that escape both of you were doing more than enough talking. For a split moment you feel bad for the neighbors, and you hope they aren't awake to hear you through the thin apartment walls. But, your thoughts are swiftly taken away from your acute guilt as you feel Joost slam into you, harder than before. Your eyes shut tight, a pathetic whimper crawling from your throat as the tip of his cock hits deep inside you.

"Joost," You gasp as his thrusts become more pointed, the bed rocking beneath you.

"Feels good, right?" His voice is rich with cockiness, "No one fucks you as good as I do?"

"No," You exhale, "No one," Your vision begins to blur, as pleasure completely overtakes you.

"That's right," He groans, "No one knows your body like I do."

He's right, and you're sure no one will ever know you in the way he does,

"Fuck," You swallow, "We're never going to be able to stop this, are we?" Your heartbeat increases as you come to the realization of how badly the two of you need each other- no matter how much it disturbs the other facets of your life.

"No," His fingertips dig into the naked flesh of your hips, "We were made for each other." The way he speaks is barely romantic, his low growl rather implying that the two of you were doomed to forever be intertwined in this unfortunate circumstance, the far of you far too flawed to be with anyone but each other.

You can feel your body tensing up, a pressure burning in your abdomen, threatening to explode at any moment. You screw your eyes shut, your face twisting up, all of the emotion of the night smacking into you as your orgasm approaches.

"So close," You wince the hot coil in your lower stomach about to crack.

"Want to feel you make a mess on me," Joost begs from behind a clenched jaw, "Come on," He urges.

It takes a few more thrusts for your orgasm to overtake you, but as it does, it's strong. What could just be about considered a scream passing through your throat as your legs start to shake, your body tingling.

"Love you," You slur, your brain too fuzzy to even be cognisant of the words as they leave your mouth, your subconscious speaking for you.

"Yeah?" Joost asks, his thrusts becoming sporadic, losing pace, "Say it again, tell me how much you love me, schatje."

"I love you," You whine, your entire body twitching as you lose all control over your reflexes, your climax now in charge, "Love you, love you so much." Your words become slower, jaw slacking as your orgasm rolls over you, reaching its final stages, your cunt spasming around Joost.

"I know," He sighs, his lips returning to your jaw. He's able to slip in and out of you much faster now, his cock covered in your release, his thrusts forcing strangled cries from you, "I know," He repeats, "Fucking love you too,"

His hips stutter, and a string of curses are grunted into your neck as Joost's own orgasm approaches.

You inhale sharply as you feel him begin to finish inside you, his cock twitching in your poor overstimulated cunt as the warmth of his release fills you. It's messy, the way he continues to thrust with as much force as he can muster as he rides out his high, cum spilling onto your inner thighs which each thrust, lewd wet sounds filling the air.

Soon enough Joost is collapsed on top of you, his breathing heavy as he tries to collect himself. Your legs drop from hs waist, your entire body lazy.

A certain sense of guilt creeps into you as you realize Michael is right, you have no self-control, unable to give up the feeling that Joost gives you for anything else in the world. You'll forever be chasing the high he gives you, because Joost was right too, you were made for each other.

[urno1luv]

u still write for Yunjin?

yes!! i do ♡ matter of fact i have something for you after such a LONG time... i'm sorry for the absence

yunjin as your hot classmate >_<

tw: drugging, noncon, g!p yunjin, yunjin being pretty nasty, nawt proofread

..... ..... ..... ..... ..... ..... ..... ..... ..... ..... ..... ..... ..... ....

- sadly, your teacher grouped you with yunjin for a biology project. the reason i say sadly is because yunjin was famously known for doing anything but her work, and causing commotion in her classes. so when you were paired together, naturally, you asked for a change in your pair.

- "why, do i bother you that much? i barely know you." yunjin, overhearing your conversation with the teacher, pouts playfully at you, her piercing eyes staring deep into yours. you roll your eyes and decide to just suck it up, barging past her to your next class. yunjin stands in the doorway, mildly shocked at your attitude, before welcoming this new challenge.

- fast forward to your next class, yunjin sits down beside you, immediately pulling her chair closer to yours. "so? what are we gonna do?" she asks, her glasses slightly slipping off of her nose as she looks down at you. you're surprised at her willingness to learn, sensing something else underneath this facade. but you tell her either way, and she... does her work?

- during the next two hours of your class, you find yourself warming up to yunjin, to the point of accepting her offer to go to her house. yunjin's glossy lips curl up into a small smirk, and your eyes travel downwards to her lips. you look away before you *think* yunjin notices, and yet she does, but she keeps this small victory to herself, her smirk widening to a small smile.

- you accept yunjin's offer, and head over to her house, donning a basic top with a mini skirt, nothing too extra, but just enough to look nice. as yunjin unlocks the door, she greets you, arm around your waist as she pulls you in, offering you a drink. you accept it, not thinking much of it, other than bring weirded out from yunjin's obsessive stare.

- you feel drowsy after at least 10 minutes of chatting, and sticky, feeling an unbearable heat coming from between your legs. "you okay, y/nnie? you look... tired," yunjin snickers from her seat in front of you, and she jumps up coming over to help you up. "wanna go to my bed, huh? wanna rest for a while, baby?" she coos as you push her off, realising slowly that her mocking tone and your sudden drowsiness are connected somehow.

- "i'm not gonna hurt you puppy, don't push me off," she mutters, her voice deepening as she commands you to stay still on her bed, her rough hands gripping your thighs, and teasing your cunt through your soaked panties. "don't be so fiesty, i just want us to feel good, kay?"

- mere minutes seem like hours to you, as you whine and moan while yunjin relentlessly fingers your pussy, only stopping so she could undo her belt, and take her cock out. the length and thickness of it made you sob a little more, slurring and begging yunjin to stop. yunjin shushes you softly while pushing it in, slowly so you could feel every vein brushing against your gummy walls.

- yunjin gives you a second to adjust, before letting out a guttural moan, and slamming her hips into yours, both your bodies covered in sweat as you claw at her back, while yours arches as she hits the deepest spot. the rhythmic slapping of skin against each other, your moaning and squealing, necks covered in bites, it was all a delightful sight for yunjin <3

a/n i'm so hornyy i'm on my period yall😔

[wonyowonyo]

Queen Bee (K. Minju x M! Reader)

Another request! I've tweaked some stuff here n there with anon's suggestion but overall it came out nice in the end. Writing Bully Minju was a great experience for me too! Anyways, hope you all enjoy this one!

The opulent marble halls of Evergreen Academy echoed with the clacking of Minju's designer heels as she swept through the corridors, her entourage of loyal followers trailing behind her like a flock of well-groomed ducklings. Her eyes scanned the crowd of students, searching for any sign of rebellion or dissent against her ironclad rule.

Minju was the undisputed queen of Evergreen, her family's wealth and influence casting a long shadow over the prestigious institution. She had carefully cultivated her image as a benevolent, yet firm leader, maintaining an air of superiority that few dared to challenge.

But beneath the polished veneer, Minju's true nature simmered - a burning desire for power and control that knew no bounds. She ruthlessly crushed any opposition, using her family's resources to quash any threats to her reign. The students of Evergreen were her subjects, to be molded and manipulated as she saw fit.

That was, until the arrival of a new Yuna, Yuna, who dared to disrupt the carefully curated social order that Minju had worked so hard to maintain.

From the moment Yuna set foot on campus, Minju could sense the threat she posed. The girl's humble origins and lack of social pedigree were an affront to the exclusivity that Minju prized. And so, Minju set out to make Yuna's life a living hell, subjecting her to a relentless campaign of bullying and humiliation.

But Minju's reign of terror met an unexpected challenge in the form of (Y/N) (L/N), the scion of one of the wealthiest families in the country. As a member of Evergreen's elite social circle, (Y/N) had always been one of Minju's loyal followers, dutifully adhering to the unspoken rules that governed their exclusive world.

Until, that is, the day Minju's cruelty towards Yuna pushed (Y/N) to the brink.

Minju still vividly remembered the confrontation in the courtyard, the way (Y/N)'s usually calm demeanor had been replaced by a righteous fury that left her momentarily unbalanced.

"That's enough, Minju," (Y/N) had said, his voice steady but laced with an unmistakable edge.

Minju had been taken aback, her lips curling into a sardonic smile as she tried to regain her footing. "Well, well, if it isn't (Y/N) (L/N), coming to the rescue. How noble of you."

But (Y/N) had refused to be cowed, his eyes burning with a determination that Minju had never seen in him before. "This has gone on long enough. You can't keep bullying people just because they don't fit your narrow definition of what's 'acceptable' at this school."

Minju's expression had darkened, and she could feel the jealousy and resentment bubbling beneath the surface. "Oh, please. As if you have any right to lecture me about what's acceptable. You may be one of the richest students here, (Y/N), but you're still just a pathetic little worm trying to act like a hero."

The words had tumbled from her lips before she could stop them, a desperate attempt to regain the upper hand. But (Y/N)'s response had only served to further erode her confidence.

"Maybe I am a worm, Minju, but at least I have the courage to stand up for what's right. Unlike you, who just uses her wealth and status to crush anyone who dares to defy you."

Minju's jaw had clenched with frustration, her mind racing as she tried to formulate a retort. But before she could, the arrival of Mr. Park had turned the tide against her, forcing her to retreat in the face of the teacher's stern rebuke.

As Minju had stalked away, her followers trailing behind her, she could feel (Y/N)'s gaze burning into her back. The humiliation of being exposed and challenged in front of her peers was a wound to her pride that refused to heal. The clacking sound of Minju's designer heels as she swept through the corridors was fleeting away from the scene. Her entourage of loyal followers trailing behind her like a flock of well-groomed ducklings.

However Minju's eyes would find its way back on (Y/N) (L/N) and the new transferee, Yuna. As she watched the confrontation unfold, a strange, unfamiliar feeling stirred within her - a cocktail of jealousy, possessiveness, and a touch of something she couldn't quite place.

Minju had always prided herself on her ability to command the attention and adoration of her peers. Her family's wealth and influence had granted her an almost godlike status within the hallowed halls of Evergreen, and she reveled in the power it afforded her. But now, seeing (Y/N) stand up to her, his eyes burning with a passion she had never witnessed before, left her feeling...unsettled.

The familiar scent of her expensive perfume mingled with the crisp, sterile air of the academy, and Minju found herself thinking back to the intensity of (Y/N)'s gaze, the unwavering determination in his voice. It was as if he had awakened something within her, a dormant ember that now threatened to burst into a roaring flame.

Minju's fingers twitched with the desire to reach out and reclaim (Y/N)'s attention, to remind him of his place at her side. She had grown so accustomed to his loyal, obedient nature, the way he had always deferred to her without question. But now, that delicate balance had been shattered, and Minju couldn't help but feel a twinge of...longing.

As (Y/N) walked away, his head held high, Minju's heart raced with a mixture of emotions she couldn't quite identify. The sound of her heels echoed through the corridors, a steady beat that seemed to match the rhythm of her rapidly beating heart.

Minju knew she had to regain control, to reassert her dominance over the situation. But deep down, a part of her couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to have (Y/N)'s unwavering loyalty and devotion directed towards her in a different way - one that went beyond the boundaries of their established dynamic.

In the days that followed, Minju's obsession with (Y/N) and Yuna only intensified. She couldn't understand why (Y/N) had chosen to side with the lowly Yuna, defying the very social order that Minju had worked so hard to uphold.

Worse still, she could see the effects of (Y/N)'s actions rippling through the student body. Whispers of discontent and dissent began to circulate, and Minju could feel her grip on the school starting to slip.

Desperate to regain control, Minju unleashed a relentless campaign of sabotage and intimidation, targeting both (Y/N) and Yuna. She sabotaged their assignments, spread vicious rumors, and even went so far as to try and have them expelled.

But (Y/N) refused to be cowed, rallying support from other students who were tired of Minju's tyrannical reign. Together, they formed a resistance movement, challenging Minju's authority at every turn.

Minju's frustration only grew, and she lashed out with increasing ferocity, her actions becoming more and more reckless as she fought to maintain her hold on Evergreen. She was like a cornered animal, baring her teeth and lashing out at any perceived threat.

And then, the final confrontation came at the annual school gala, a prestigious event attended by the elite of Evergreen Academy. (Y/N) and Yuna had been invited, and they knew that this was their chance to make their move.

As the gala unfolded, (Y/N) and Yuna worked tirelessly to rally support from the other guests, exposing Minju's misdeeds and rallying the school community against her. The tension in the air was palpable, and everyone held their breath, waiting to see how the showdown would play out.

Finally, Minju took the stage, her eyes blazing with fury. She tried to discredit (Y/N) and Yuna, but their allies stood firm, refusing to be cowed by her intimidation tactics.

In the end, it was (Y/N)'s impassioned speech that tipped the scales. He spoke of the values of kindness, compassion, and mutual respect that should be the foundation of Evergreen Academy, and how Minju's selfish and cruel behavior had betrayed those values.

As Minju's supporters began to waver, (Y/N) seized the moment, calling for a vote of no-confidence in Minju's leadership. The vote was close, but in the end, Minju was toppled from her throne, stripped of her power and influence.

In the aftermath, Minju found herself adrift, her carefully constructed world crumbling around her. She had lost everything – her status, her power, her very identity as the queen of Evergreen. And worst of all, she had lost (Y/N), the one person she had always counted on to be by her side.

As she wandered the empty corridors of the school, Minju couldn't help but feel a sense of profound loss and regret. She had sacrificed so much to maintain her reign, but in the end, it had all been for naught.

It was in those moments of solitude that Minju finally began to confront the truth about herself – the truth that she had been desperately trying to bury beneath layers of arrogance and cruelty.

She had been a bully, a tyrant who had used her wealth and status to crush anyone who dared to defy her. And in doing so, she had lost sight of the very values that had once defined her – the compassion, the kindness, the sense of community that had once been the hallmark of Evergreen Academy.

Minju's eyes filled with tears as she realized the full extent of her transgressions. She had betrayed the trust of her peers, her teachers, and worst of all, (Y/N) – the one person who had always seen the best in her, even when she had long since abandoned that part of herself.

With a newfound sense of shame and determination, Minju knew that she had to make amends. She had to find a way to redeem herself, to rebuild the trust she had so carelessly destroyed.

It was a daunting task, but as Minju steeled herself and set out to confront the consequences of her actions, she knew that she had no one to blame but herself. The road to redemption would be long and arduous, but she was determined to walk it, no matter the cost.

And deep down, a small part of her still harbored the hope that one day, (Y/N) might see the change in her, and that perhaps, just perhaps, he might be willing to give her a second chance.

The aftermath of Minju's dramatic downfall reverberated through the halls of Evergreen Academy, leaving a palpable sense of unease and uncertainty in its wake. The once ironclad social hierarchy that she had so ruthlessly enforced lay in tatters, and the students found themselves navigating unfamiliar territory, unsure of where they now fit within this new, uncharted landscape.

For Minju, the transition from untouchable queen to disgraced pariah was a bitter pill to swallow. Gone were the days of her loyal entourage and the unchecked power she had wielded with such casual cruelty. Now, she found herself cast adrift, her very identity as the reigning monarch of Evergreen stripped away, leaving her feeling vulnerable and exposed.

As she wandered the empty corridors, Minju couldn't help but feel the weight of her actions pressing down upon her. The memories of her past transgressions – the bullying, the sabotage, the relentless pursuit of power at any cost – played out in an endless loop in her mind, a cruel reminder of the monster she had become.

Minju's gaze drifted to the trophy case that once held the symbols of her dominance – the accolades, the awards, the trophies that had been a testament to her success. But now, those gleaming artifacts felt like a hollow victory, a meaningless accumulation of trinkets that had done nothing to fill the void within her.

With a heavy sigh, Minju turned away, her steps heavy as she made her way to the one place she had once found solace – the school's library. It had always been her haven, a quiet refuge where she could escape the relentless demands of her social obligations and immerse herself in the world of books and knowledge.

But even this sanctuary felt tainted now, the whispers and sidelong glances of her former peers following her like a dark cloud. Minju could sense the judgment in their eyes, the resentment that bubbled just beneath the surface. It was a humbling realization, one that she had never been forced to confront before.

As Minju settled into a secluded corner of the library, her fingers tracing the spine of a well-worn volume, a familiar voice suddenly reached her ears.

"Minju?"

She looked up to see (Y/N) standing before her, his expression unreadable. Minju felt her heart leap in her chest, a surge of emotions she had long since buried threatening to overwhelm her.

"(Y/N)," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "I... I didn't expect to see you here."

(Y/N) regarded her for a moment, his brow furrowed in a faint expression of concern. "I... I wanted to make sure you were alright. After everything that's happened, I-"

Minju cut him off, her hands trembling slightly. "I'm fine, (Y/N). I'm... I'm managing."

An uncomfortable silence hung between them, the weight of their shared history palpable in the air. Minju could feel her carefully constructed walls beginning to crumble, the mask of indifference she had so painstakingly cultivated slipping away.

"(Y/N)," she began, her voice wavering with emotion. "I... I'm sorry. For everything. I know that doesn't begin to make up for what I've done, but I-"

(Y/N) raised a hand, silencing her. "Minju, I... I've been doing a lot of thinking since the gala. About you, about all of this. And I realize that... well, that I may have misjudged you, in a way."

Minju's eyes widened in surprise, her heart pounding in her chest. "What do you mean?"

(Y/N) sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I'm not going to pretend that what you did was right. You hurt a lot of people, Minju, and you betrayed the very values that Evergreen is supposed to stand for."

Minju felt a familiar sting of shame, her gaze dropping to the floor. "I know. I-I don't expect you to forgive me, (Y/N). I've done so many terrible things, and I-"

"Let me finish," (Y/N) interrupted, his voice gentle but firm. "The truth is, I've always known that there was more to you than the bully and the tyrant. Somewhere, underneath all of that, there was a person who cared, who had a genuine passion for this school and its community."

Minju's breath caught in her throat, her eyes searching (Y/N)'s face for any hint of deception. "You... you really believe that?"

(Y/N) nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I do. And I think you believe it too, deep down. That's why this has been so hard for you – because you know that you've betrayed that part of yourself."

Minju felt the tears welling in her eyes, her carefully constructed walls crumbling under the weight of (Y/N)'s words. "I... I don't know what to say. I've hurt so many people, (Y/N). How can I ever make up for that?"

(Y/N) reached out, his hand coming to rest on Minju's shoulder. "It won't be easy, Minju. Rebuilding trust and earning forgiveness takes time and effort. But I believe you can do it – if you're willing to truly change, to become the person you know you can be."

Minju looked up at him, her eyes shining with a newfound glimmer of hope. "I... I want to try, (Y/N). I want to be that person again. But I'm scared. What if I fail?"

(Y/N) squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "You won't be alone, Minju. I'll be here, supporting you every step of the way. We'll face this challenge together, just like we used to."

Minju felt a wave of gratitude wash over her, her heart swelling with a newfound sense of purpose. She had lost so much, but in that moment, she realized that she had the chance to regain something even more valuable – the trust and respect of her peers, and the chance to become the person she had always wanted to be.

It would be a long and arduous journey, but with (Y/N) by her side, Minju knew that she could overcome the obstacles that lay ahead. She would have to work tirelessly to make amends, to prove that she had truly changed. But for the first time in a long while, Minju felt a glimmer of hope – a spark that she was determined to nurture and grow into a blazing flame of redemption.

As she and (Y/N) stepped out of the library, their footsteps echoing through the empty halls, Minju felt a renewed sense of purpose. She knew that the road ahead would be filled with challenges, but with (Y/N)'s support and her own unwavering determination, she was confident that she could overcome them.

The journey to redemption had begun, and Minju was ready to face it head-on.

The path to redemption was not an easy one for Minju, but with (Y/N)'s unwavering support, she was determined to make the most of this second chance.

In the days and weeks that followed their conversation in the library, Minju set out to systematically rebuild the trust and respect she had so carelessly squandered. It was a slow and arduous process, marked by skepticism and outright hostility from many of her former peers.

But Minju refused to be deterred. She knew that she had to prove the sincerity of her transformation, that mere words would not be enough to undo the damage she had done. And so, she set about making amends, one small step at a time.

She began by publicly acknowledging the wrongs she had committed, standing before the entire student body and offering a heartfelt apology. It was a daunting task, laying bare her past transgressions and vulnerabilities for all to see, but Minju knew that it was a necessary first step.

To her surprise, the reaction was not entirely hostile. While some of her former followers turned their backs on her, others – the ones who had borne the brunt of her cruelty – seemed cautiously receptive to her words. Minju could see the glimmers of hope in their eyes, a yearning for the redemption she now sought.

Emboldened by this cautious progress, Minju set out to make amends in more tangible ways. She used her family's resources to establish a scholarship fund for underprivileged students, ensuring that the doors of Evergreen would be open to all, regardless of their social standing.

She also volunteered her time, working tirelessly alongside her peers to organize fundraisers and community service projects, using her influence to mobilize resources and inspire others to action.

Through it all, (Y/N) remained a steadfast presence at her side, offering guidance, encouragement, and a much-needed dose of reality when Minju's progress threatened to falter.

"It's not going to be easy, Minju," he would remind her, his voice gentle but firm. "You've hurt a lot of people, and earning their trust back is going to take time and effort. But I believe in you. I know you can do this."

And with each passing day, Minju found herself drawing strength from (Y/N)'s unwavering belief in her. She could feel the walls she had built around her heart slowly crumbling, replaced by a newfound sense of purpose and determination.

It was during one of the school's annual charity drives that Minju's transformation truly began to take root. As she stood alongside her peers, sorting and packing donations for the local homeless shelter, she couldn't help but be struck by the sense of community and camaraderie that had once been the hallmark of Evergreen Academy.

Minju watched as (Y/N) worked tirelessly, his sleeves rolled up and a genuine smile on his face as he interacted with the other students. She marveled at the way he had seamlessly integrated himself into the fabric of the community, his once-aloof demeanor replaced by a genuine warmth and compassion.

And in that moment, Minju felt a pang of regret – regret for the years she had spent tearing that community apart, for the ways in which she had betrayed the very values that had once defined her.

Hesitantly, she approached (Y/N), her voice barely above a whisper. "(Y/N)... can I help?"

He turned to her, his eyes widening in surprise, but then a gentle smile spread across his face. "Of course, Minju. We could always use an extra pair of hands."

As Minju rolled up her sleeves and joined the effort, she felt a sense of peace wash over her. The familiar weight of her past transgressions still lingered, but in this moment, it felt as if she was finally beginning to shed that burden, to reclaim the part of herself she had so long ago abandoned.

The other students were wary at first, casting sidelong glances in Minju's direction, but as she worked alongside them, her genuine enthusiasm and commitment began to break down those barriers. Slowly but surely, she could feel the walls of distrust and resentment crumbling, replaced by a cautious acceptance.

And when the day's work was done, and the students gathered to admire the impressive pile of donations they had amassed, Minju found herself surrounded by her peers, their expressions no longer filled with hostility, but with a newfound respect.

(Y/N) stood by her side, his hand reaching out to gently squeeze her shoulder. "I'm proud of you, Minju," he murmured, his voice filled with genuine warmth.

Minju felt a lump rise in her throat, her eyes brimming with tears. "Thank you, (Y/N). For... for believing in me, even when I didn't believe in myself."

(Y/N) smiled, his gaze holding hers. "I always knew you had it in you, Minju. You just needed to find your way back."

As they walked back to the dorms, Minju felt a sense of renewed purpose and determination. The road ahead was still long and uncertain, but for the first time in a long while, she felt a glimmer of hope – hope that she could truly become the person she had always aspired to be.

And with (Y/N) by her side, Minju knew that she could overcome any obstacle that stood in her path. Together, they would rebuild the community, reclaiming the values that had once defined Evergreen Academy and creating a legacy that would endure long after they had graduated.

It was a daunting task, but Minju was more than ready to face it head-on. Her journey to redemption had only just begun, but she was determined to see it through, no matter the cost.

As the weeks turned into months, Minju's journey of redemption continued to unfold, marked by both triumphs and challenges.

While her initial public apology had been met with a mix of lingering skepticism and cautious hope, Minju's unwavering commitment to making amends began to slowly erode the barriers that had once separated her from her peers.

She threw herself wholeheartedly into the various community service projects and charity initiatives that now dotted the Evergreen Academy calendar, using her family's resources and influence to amplify the reach and impact of these endeavors.

Whether it was organizing food drives for the local homeless shelter, spearheading fundraising campaigns for underprivileged students, or lending a hand in the school's environmental conservation efforts, Minju's presence was a constant and welcomed one. Gone were the days of her tyrannical reign; in its place, a newfound spirit of collaboration and camaraderie began to take root.

(Y/N) remained a steadfast ally throughout this process, his steadfast support and guidance a crucial lifeline for Minju as she navigated the treacherous waters of redemption. Together, they worked tirelessly to rebuild the bridges that Minju had once so carelessly burned, forging connections and alliances that would help to solidify her transformation.

But the road was not without its challenges. There were still those who viewed Minju's change of heart with a healthy dose of skepticism, unwilling to forget the pain and humiliation she had inflicted upon them. These were the battles Minju fought the hardest, confronting her past transgressions head-on and refusing to shy away from the uncomfortable truths that lay buried beneath the surface.

In one particularly poignant moment, Minju found herself face-to-face with Yuna, the very individual whose arrival had set in motion the events that had led to Minju's dramatic downfall.

The tension in the air was palpable as the two young women stood there, the weight of their shared history hanging between them. But to Minju's surprise, Yuna did not recoil or lash out – instead, her expression held a curious mixture of wariness and something akin to compassion.

"I... I know that what you did was wrong," Yuna began, her voice soft but resolute. "And I can't say that I've forgiven you, not completely. But I see the way you've been working to make amends, to truly change. And I... I respect that."

Minju felt a lump rise in her throat, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Yuna, I... I can't even begin to apologize for the way I treated you. It was unforgivable, and I know that. But I want you to know that I am truly, deeply sorry. And I promise, I will spend every day for the rest of my life trying to make it right."

To her surprise, Yuna offered her a tentative smile. "I believe you, Minju. And I'm willing to give you a chance – a chance to prove that you've changed, and that you're worthy of forgiveness."

It was a small, yet significant victory for Minju – a testament to the power of resilience and the possibility of redemption. And as she watched Yuna walk away, Minju felt a newfound sense of purpose and determination surge within her.

She knew that the road ahead would still be long and arduous, but with each step forward, she could feel the weight of her past sins slowly lifting from her shoulders. And with (Y/N) by her side, a constant source of support and encouragement, Minju was more determined than ever to see her transformation through to the end.

As the months turned into years, Minju's impact on the Evergreen community only grew. She became a tireless advocate for inclusivity and social justice, using her family's resources and influence to enact real, meaningful change. Her once-loyal followers, once blinded by her tyrannical reign, now looked upon her with renewed respect and admiration, seeing in her a leader worthy of their trust.

And through it all, (Y/N) remained a steadfast presence in her life, their bond growing stronger and more profound with each passing day. Minju marveled at the way he had always believed in her, even when she had been at her lowest, and she knew that without his unwavering support, her journey to redemption would have been all but impossible.

As they stood together, side by side, on the day of their graduation, Minju couldn't help but feel a deep sense of pride and accomplishment. She had come so far, overcoming the darkest parts of her past to emerge as a true leader, one who was beloved and respected by her peers.

And as she looked into (Y/N)'s eyes, Minju knew that this was only the beginning – the start of a new chapter, one filled with endless possibilities and the promise of a brighter future for them both.

As the sun set on their final day at Evergreen Academy, Minju and (Y/N) found themselves standing on the steps of the main building, the warm evening air carrying the faint scent of blooming flowers.

The campus was alive with the energy of their fellow graduates, laughter and voices mingling together in a joyful cacophony. But for Minju and (Y/N), this moment felt tinged with a bittersweet edge, a realization that their time at this school – a place that had once been the epicenter of their lives – was now drawing to a close.

Minju turned to (Y/N), her eyes shimmering with a complex tapestry of emotions. "I can't believe it's over, (Y/N). It feels like just yesterday we were walking these halls for the first time, full of excitement and trepidation."

(Y/N) nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "A lot has changed since then, hasn't it? For both of us."

Minju's gaze grew introspective as she contemplated the journey that had brought her to this moment. "You've been by my side through it all, (Y/N). I don't know if I would have had the strength to overcome my past without you."

(Y/N) reached out, his hand finding hers and giving it a gentle squeeze. "You did that all on your own, Minju. I may have been there to support you, but the courage and determination to change – that was all you."

Minju felt a lump rise in her throat, her fingers intertwining with his. "I couldn't have done it without you, (Y/N). You believed in me when no one else did, and you never gave up on me, even when I had given up on myself."

(Y/N) pulled her into a warm embrace, his arms enveloping her in a comforting shield. "You're stronger than you know, Minju. And I'm so proud of the person you've become."

They stood there for a long moment, the sounds of their graduating class fading into the background as they savored the quiet intimacy of the moment. Minju could feel the steady rhythm of (Y/N)'s heart, a soothing cadence that had become as familiar to her as her own.

As they pulled apart, their gazes locked, and Minju felt a surge of emotion that she had long since buried deep within her heart. The walls she had so painstakingly constructed – the barriers that had once protected her from the pain of vulnerability – had crumbled away, leaving her raw and exposed.

"(Y/N)," she began, her voice barely above a whisper. "I... I don't know what the future holds for us, but I do know one thing. You've become more than just a friend to me. You're... you're my everything."

(Y/N)'s eyes widened, and for a moment, Minju could see the same vulnerability reflected in his gaze. "Minju, I... I feel the same way. I've always felt this connection between us, even when everything else was falling apart."

Minju felt her heart racing, the weight of his words settling warmly in her chest. "Then... what does this mean, (Y/N)? Where do we go from here?"

(Y/N) reached up, his fingers gently caressing her cheek. "It means that we face the future together, Minju. Whatever challenges lie ahead, we'll confront them side by side, just like we always have."

Minju felt a tear of joy escape the corner of her eye, her hand coming up to cover his. "I don't know what I'd do without you, (Y/N). You've been my anchor, my guiding light, through it all."

(Y/N) leaned in, his forehead resting against hers. "And I'll always be here for you, Minju. No matter what."

As their lips met in a tender, passionate kiss, Minju felt a sense of peace and belonging wash over her. The weight of her past had been lifted, replaced by a boundless hope for the future – a future that she would build, hand-in-hand, with the person she had grown to love more than anything.

The world beyond the walls of Evergreen Academy awaited, brimming with endless possibilities. And with (Y/N) by her side, Minju knew that she was ready to face it head-on, determined to forge a path that would continue to inspire and uplift those around her.

This was not the end, but a new beginning – a chance to write the next chapter of their story, one that would be filled with love, growth, and the pursuit of a brighter, more just world.

[synthetickitsune]

Jun (SVT) | Not Jealous fluff | 0.8k | gn!reader A/N: i once again blame @hanniedream and her silly bf jun ideas for making me stuck in jun brainrot >:(

“You’re doing it again,” you accuse him with a pout when you join him again at the bar. 

“Hm?” he frowns, turning his body towards you.

“You’re not jealous at all,” you sigh, “Someone flirts with me and you don’t care at all.”

It’s a tradition at this point - someone lowkey flirts with you with Jun in sight, you decline them, and life goes on. Your boyfriend hardly ever so much as comments on it anymore.

You’re not actually bothered by it, but today you wish he’d show a little more feeling at someone flirting with his partner. He senses you’re upset, and even if he thinks it’s more the late hour getting to you than you actually being mad, it’s always safer to check or at least distract you.

“Wanna know my secret?” he smiles, gently putting his hand over your knee and slowly stroking your skin to soothe you.

“Yeah,” you jump at the opportunity. He huffs at your sudden enthusiasm, then takes a couple of deep breaths. He meant to pull out some lame joke, but he’s not so sure he can do it anymore. His mind just goes a little blank when you look at him like this. And so the painful truth is his only way.

“I imagine they’ll flirt with me next.”

“...come again?”

“I’ll think they’ll be flirting with me next and how I’d feel in that situation,” he rephrases carefully, feeling his ears beginning to burn up.

“Jun, look, I love you but what the actual fuck. Please explain the thought process,”

“You always say I’m hotter than you,” he gives you an expectant look, and you play along and nod, “Say it.”

“Yeah, you’re hotter than me,” you roll your eyes, and you definitely do not smile seeing the happy grin on his face.

“Well then naturally, they’ll see you and be interested and flirt, but when they see me, they’ll come right over instead,” he explains, slowly growing embarrassed and looking to you for support. You’re a little too focused on the fact that this sounds a lot like when a long time ago it was you explaining why you’re insecure when people see you together. He seemed so confused about it, and you wonder if it actually caused some damage. “And yeah, I just think that and how uncomfortable I’d be if someone came onto me like that when I already have you and you’re everything I want and need. And you’re out of their league too!”

You jump a little when you realize how close Jun leaned towards you while you were trying to comprehend what he’s telling you. His skin looks adorably flushed, and you know it’s definitely not from the very much non-alcoholic juice and vodka cocktail he’s been drinking. You close the gap between you, resting your forehead against his.

“I think I want to marry you,” you sigh, closing your eyes before you can see the relieved smile that you know would make you propose right then and there. 

“So are you still mad at me?” he asks, taking your hands in his.

“I wasn’t mad, I just think it’s unfair,” you shake your head before kissing him. He hums into the kiss, sliding a hand behind your head. It moves to rest around your shoulders when you pull away.

“But you know, Jun, that last guy was kind of hot,” you mention off-handedly as you swirl the drink in your glass.

“Hm, yeah, he had a nice body,” Jun leans back, tilting his head in thought.

“And you still thought I was out of his league? Still thought you’d mind him flirting with you?” you’re just teasing, your reward being his laugh.

“Honestly, I’m so annoyed someone is flirting with you that it’s not hard to only find the ugly things on them,” he shrugs, smirking when he notices your surprised face, “I get jealous, I just try not to show it if it’s stupid.”

You push his shoulder and groan. You cross your arms on the table and put your head on them, glaring at your laughing boyfriend. 

He’s right though. Whenever you feel uncomfortable, he’s right there to protect you and take care of sending the offender away. Whenever they cross a boundary, he will show them you’re his, the same as when you make it clear you want him to be possessive about you. He just never makes a scene if there is no need. 

“I can-”

“No,” you stop him before he can continue, smiling as he rubs your back gently, “You’re perfect. I’m just stupid sometimes.”

“Always,” he coughs to tease you, but that’s alright. 

You’re grateful to have him - bickering and all.

[undiscovered-horizon]

Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request?

It is nights like these that make Coriolanus ponder the 'what ifs?' the most; it is nights like these that bring Lucy Gray back to his mind, even after all this time. Even if she's unwelcome.

If he was a better man, a little less power-hungry and a little more altruistic, he would have missed all of this. He never would have found you - a deer so susceptible to the wolf's skilful machinations. So impressionable, so devoted... And what gamesmanship it truly is to make the prey believe there's some grace in being eaten alive.

He's leaning against the doorframe leading to the nursery - awake, although you have told him to go back to sleep when your newborn daughter woke her parents up. Coriolanus is watching the scene unfold from afar, never letting even the smallest of details escape his attention. He wishes to gloat, to bathe in his own triumph.

Your face, which once smiled so brightly only for him, now smiles for another. What's strange, is that it doesn't make Coriolanus as angry or bitter as it usually would. That territorial beast residing deep in his viscera is wary but not bothered. Not yet, at least.

The baby's cries die down as you cradle her in your arms. In gentle, almost fearful, movements, you rock the newborn. Coriolanus sees your lips move but the whisper is too low for him to discern any words. Whatever it is you say to the youngest Snow, it makes her giggle and babble. The sound reminds him of your own laughter, which he so easily elicits with the smallest gestures of affection. Maybe too easily - although just as exciting, it was never a challenge.

You gently lay the baby back down in her cot. For a moment, you study her face with an expression so loving it's almost pathetic. Coriolanus feels his skin crawl. Something animalistic within him beckons the man to do truly terrible things only to ensure that it's him and him only that you look at with such adoration.

But the urge dies down when you turn away from the newborn and meet his gaze across the room. He's back in the centre of your attention, where he belongs. Suddenly, something changes in your eyes.

That glint of devotion is clouded by something much more mischievous, something he used to absolutely hate until he learned about its nature. Since he met you, you've been looking at him with a hint of insightfulness as though you could see right through his facade and read about his sins on the pages of the open book that was his soul. He felt seen and not in a good way. Then, after learning a few things about you, Coriolanus realized that this perceptiveness is the best thing he could hope for - you were smart enough to connect the dots, to notice patterns not many deemed obvious and yet, too blindsided by love, you thought of his wrongdoings as right. Not in the ethical sense, perhaps, but in logic. There was a method to his madness and a very effective one at that. After all, how utterly foolish would it be to play nice while in The Capitol? In a world of "eat or be eaten", Coriolanus was going to throw a feast. You knew it early on and appreciated the wit and grit it takes to do so.

Standing now in front of him, you slightly lift one of your eyebrows, silently asking him what's on his mind.

"You're beautiful," he confesses.

Your lips curve into a smile. "Tell me something I don't know."

His blue eyes bore into yours. The intensity of his gaze makes you want to look away but prohibits you from doing so at the same time. "I'd burn the whole world for you," he whispers, his tone gravely serious.

Coriolanus feels himself shudder when the back of your hand gently brushes his cheek. Still looking at you, he tilts his head to kiss your fingers.

"I said 'something I don't know', love," you retort in an equally low voice. "Now come, the morning is still far away."

You take his hand in yours, pulling him back towards your bedroom. And, for some strange reason, he lets you guide him.

If he was a better man, he would lead a different life. A more peaceful one, perhaps. But he's not a better man - in fact, he's far from being considered "good" or even "decent". Which is why his life is pleasant, instead of peaceful. And if awful things have brought him so much joy, why, pray tell, should he ever be anything but despicable?

_____

Me? Writing dark characters with dark themes? In other news, the water is wet.

[simping-for-joe]

Head Over Heels

Leon Kennedy X Chubby! Single-mom! Reader

Part 2

Leon’s new neighbor has definitely caught his interest

Y/N: So this is going to be multi-part since I think that'll work best for me. I just wanted to write about a chubby single mom with Leon. I also don't know how many parts

(The title is from "Head Over Heels" by Tears for Fear)

Leon huffed a sigh as he reached his apartment building. He threw his bag onto his shoulder as he exited his car. He notices a large moving truck in a parking spot not too far from his.

“Great…” He sighs, hoping that his new neighbors are at least quiet. He walks up the stairs of his apartment building and spots a collection of boxes across the hallway from his door. As he pulls out his keys and turns to his door, he hears a female voice.

“Come on…” He turns to see a woman struggling with a key and her door. Leon tries to turn back to his own business and to ignore you, but sighs as he heads over.

“Need some help?” He asks softly, looking at you.

“Oh! Thank you!” You say shocked by the turn of events. He grabs the box from you as you unlock and open the apartment door. As you open the door for him, you place a small box in the way to prop it open. “Thank you so much.” You repeat yourself looking to him.

“It’s no problem…” He replies and finally gets a full look at you. You looked very soft, and you had a thankful smile on your lips. Your features are round and have some extra weight on your body. You introduce yourself telling him your name. “Nice to meet you, I’m Leon. Your neighbor.” He explains stiffly and a little awkwardly.

"Oh! That makes some sense, sorry. My brain is all over the place." You explain looking around your new empty apartment.

"It's alright, moving will definitely do that." Leon chuckles awkwardly.

"Mom! Did you see-" A young boy runs it, freezing when he notices the stranger with his mother.

"Hey Finn, this is our neighbor, Mr. Kennedy." You gesture to the man beside you. "This is my son." You turn to

"Oh um, please call me Leon." He insists, his body still tense.

"Um... hi..." The boy says shyly. His features looked close to yours, the only thing that didn't look like it was directly from you was his eyes. Leon gives a soft smile to him.

"It's good to meet you." He says kindly to the boy, who is moving closer to your leg. You chuckle softly at Finn's reaction.

"It's alright sweetheart." You assure him, your hand gently going through his hair. Still, he seemed less tense after Leon's introduction.

"It was really nice to meet you," Leon says softly and starts to head back to his apartment with an awkward wave.

It’d be interesting with both you and Finn now living across from him. It didn’t help that he found himself taking second glances at you specifically. He feels his cheeks heat up at the thought but tries to push those feelings away.

It had been a week and Leon kept running into you and your son. You always looked a little tired, but you somehow managed to greet him with a smile every time.

He'd never admit it but he loved when you crossed paths with him. Finn also greeted him with a smile, but he swears that kid smiled like that was his natural state.

You stand in front of your neighbor's apartment anxiously before you knock gently. It takes a moment, but he reveals himself. His blue eyes staring at you.

"Yes?" He asks with a raised blonde eyebrow.

"I... I really hate to ask this." You start out. "Finn's teacher wants a parent-teacher conference with me, but that means no one can watch him and I was wondering if you could..?" You ask him anxiously and nervously.

You watch as Leon's eyes widen, he seemingly needing a moment to fully process completely what you had asked him.

"I..."

"You don't have to say yes, to be completely clear!" You add on anxiously and worried.

"I can do it." He confirms afterward, which shocks you but also a relief fills you. Your shoulders fall after being so tense.

"Thank you so much! I really do appreciate it, like more than you know." You say before hugging him tightly, he freezes for a moment before you feel his arms around you.

"I-It's no problem." He replies softly afterward. He felt a slight blush on his cheeks form, you felt so soft. Your hug was so tight and firm.

"Thanks again!" You head off with a wave and a smile. As Leon stands there in disbelief, what did he just agree to? And why didn't he mind? He shuts his apartment door with a soft smile.

[everydayyoulovemeless]

[Valentine Idolizes You]

➼ Word Count » 0.5k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ Summary » Headcanons based on how Nick treats you once idolized.

Starting off with the basics, he's gonna wanna hire you. He'll even offer you his bed in the agency, it's not like he sleeps in it anyway. You, him, and Ellie are gonna be the greatest group of detectives in the Commonwealth. Ellie can hold down the fort at home while you and Nick go solve mysteries.

If he hasn't seen you for more than 2 weeks, then, depending on how many cases he's working on, he's gonna go looking for you. He doesn't wanna come across as overbearing, but he's so concerned about losing you, he honestly can't help but want to ensure that you're alright.

That being said, he's always gonna be there for you. You need someone to talk to? Head on over to Nick's place, you were there for him with Winter and he'll gladly be there for you.

Expect a lot of moments where the two of you just sit in comfortable silence. Him looking over case files and you tinkering with your weapons.

Nick—especially around the holidays—will light a little campfire somewhere in the agency and the three of you (you, Nick, and Ellie) will just sit around and talk. It's one of his favorite past times. Just a nice, comfortable moment to take a breath and celebrate yourselves for all the work you've completed together.

Nick will be one of, if not the, most honest person you'll ever come across. He might soften it a bit but Nick will still tell you the truth, whether it's hard or not. He doesn't think he has it in him to keep something from you.

Nick has a habit of quoting pre-war media because he knows you'll understand the references.

If you have the Mysterious Stranger perk, he'll occasionally sit you down in his office and confide his findings with you. He wants to know what you think about him and every detail involving your interactions with the stranger.

Nick is naturally a more serious and sarcastic person, but he finds that he smiles a lot more when he's with you. Nothing big, but nothing too subtle either.

Whenever you meet someone new, Nick likes to interrogate them. He's like a dad in that sense. Again, he's worried he'll come off as overbearing, but he wants to make sure you're not being taken advantage of.

The kind of guy who teaches you how to tie a tie.

If you agreed to stay with him and Ellie at the agency, then he'll frequently ask if you want to go on walks with him around Diamond City. Domestic things like this make him feel at peace, especially when it's with someone he cares about.

Nick really likes to play blackjack with you and, unless you have a crazy good luck stat, he'll win every time. He, at the very least, isn't prone to bragging. It's one of the pros of playing any competitive game with him.

It’s hard to find, but when he can he’ll make you a cup of coffee. He technically doesn’t need it, but he can remember how much human Nick liked it, and you probably deserved it.

On days that aren't busy, Nick will turn the radio on and you’ll teach each other how to dance to certain songs until Travis mentions something that seems sketchy enough to look into.

[ash-says]

hiii ! i love your post about being audacious 🩷 do you have any tips about improving people skills/ being more charismatic? thank youuuu 🤭

Hello girlll!!! Thanks for sharing your thoughts on the audacious post. It's one of my fav tbh I literally came up with it while I was cooking. So coming to your question let me see how I can help you out tbh I share my opinions and what has worked for me so far. So practice discernment and take everything with a pinch of salt✨✨

Tips to improve People Skills/ Being more Charismatic:

1) Find your USP:

USP means Unique Selling Proposition. What makes you unique and I mean it in a personality sense more here. You can extend it to your looks but start from a personality trait cause it will be forever and very personal to you. Even if someone copies it, it will always be a cheap one.

I will elaborate on this with an example:

One of my ex colleagues was really good at socializing. He was 27 years old but I kid you not he looked like a 20 year old or even younger at times. He had a boyish charm and he used it to his full advantage. He literally had a child's energy and would jump here and there in the office, act like a literal child when not working. He had a refreshing energy to him the type that reminds you of your childhood days. Heck after a meeting with the CEO he used to watch cartoons to destress and made us watch it too so we could also relax but when it came to work he was smart, efficient and knew how to use his easy going socializing energy to generate sales. So you get my point right?? Find what attracts people to you or what value you can offer to them.

2) Knowledge. Education.

I personally swear by this. Be as disgustingly educated as possible. Know about various topics at least the basics of current trends or what's hot and some off topics. This adds dimension to your personality and helps you to hold a conversation with anyone. Plus you never run out of topics to speak on.

3) Confidence. No elaboration needed.

4)Sense of humour.

Why bore people to death by reciting the merciless nature of Julius Caesar when you could present it as a joke when something relatable comes up??? People are more likely to find you charismatic if you can make them laugh.

5) Master the art of Storytelling

This!!! Right here is a cheat code I tell you. You don't have much knowledge to speak on for now? Fine as you gradually work on it hold conversations by sharing bits of your life in a colorful way. Engage people with your life stories. Make them fun and a little dramatic. I am not advising you to lie. There's always a way you can convey something in an entertaining manner. Master it. I personally use it a lot and it's fun to connect with people cause they too loosen up and share their stories and then you link it up with your sense of humour by adding a nice comment or comeback.

Warning : Never share details that are very personal to you. Only share funny incidents and situations that won't bring you in trouble if gossiped about. Practice with discernment.

6) Learn positive body language and develop empathy. Empathy truly helps you in connecting with people on a deeper level and creating a bond based on trust and emotions.

7) Smile. Don't grin like a fool but when you see someone you know make a note to address them. Wish them good morning ,etc . Pass a genuine smile towards them. Be polite.

8) Be genuinely interested in other people but not in a nosy way instead in a healthy way. Help them out if you can. A good deed never goes to waste.

9) Have a positive outlook on everything. No one wants a pessimistic person around them. Even on days you can't. You know the mantra ," Fake it till you make it".

10) Support people. Be kind. Soft spoken. Know your place. Don't downplay yourself in front of people who are clearly not at your level and don't overestimate yourself in front of people who are professionals in those fields. Get a grip on how to act with whom. You won't know it until and unless you won't do it. Have a strong sense of self, be opinionated, confident and be witty. It's fun that way. Push your limits and don't be afraid to network with new people and talk to strangers. Who knows what will happen??

Possibilities are endless.

I hope this helps you out✨✨

[pandapetals]

Juno

worst wolverine/logan x fem!reader - i guess angst, inspired by sabrina carpenter's song juno, mentions deadpool but not in fic, logan being nice, no y/n used, no reader description, human reader, cute ending, age gap

After saving the universe with Wade, Logan decides to be a better guy especially after he sees you.

read on Ao3

He was the worst Wolverine until he wasn’t—at least in this universe. Logan had been given a second chance, one he hadn’t expected, and this time, he was determined to take full advantage of it. He wasn’t used to being the “nice guy,” but hell, after all the lives he’d lived, the bloodshed, and the mistakes, he figured it was about time he tried something different. Something better.

So, he did his best to get along with Wade, despite how many times he considered cutting the guy in half just to get a moment of silence. He tolerated Wade’s endless banter, his chaotic sense of humor, and even his wild group of friends. Logan also made an effort with Laura, doing his best to be some kind of father figure to her, even if he had no idea how to be one. He was a nice— nice-ish —gruff guy now, or at least he was trying to be.

That’s why, when he saw you for the first time, walking out of the apartment across the hall, he decided to pull out all the stops. You weren’t someone he could easily ignore, and that realization hit him harder than he cared to admit.

Logan had noticed you right away—young, maybe mid-twenties, with that kind of light in your eyes that only came from people whose weight of the world hadn’t yet worn down. There was something about you that drew him in, something about the way you carried yourself that made him pause. You were different from the kind of people Logan was used to. You were good in a way that felt foreign to him—bright, untainted, and impossibly out of reach but he couldn’t help himself.

So, he tried. He’d grunt a greeting whenever you passed him in the hallway, offering a half-smile that probably looked more like a grimace. He’d hold the door open for you, although he never bothered with that kind of thing for anyone else. Every time your paths crossed, Logan made sure to do something to get your attention—something small, something that felt almost ridiculous for a guy like him, but it mattered.

He wasn’t sure what it was about you. Maybe it was the way you smiled at him—so soft, so genuine—that caught him off guard. Or maybe it was how you seemed so unbothered by his rough exterior like you weren’t intimidated by the man who was once feared across the multiverse. You just treated him like a person, and somehow, that made him want to be better.

One afternoon, Logan was leaning against the wall outside his apartment, a cigar between his lips, lost in his usual cycle of brooding thoughts when he heard your door open. Instinctively, his gaze flicked toward you. There you were, dressed casually, a bag slung over your shoulder as you fumbled with your keys. He pulled the cigar from his mouth, watching as you turned and met his eyes, giving him that same bright, unassuming smile that never failed to catch him off guard.

“Hey, Logan,” you said, your voice light and friendly like you’d known him forever.

Logan grunted in response, nodding slightly. “Hey.”

He wasn’t good at small talk. Never had been but for some reason, he found himself lingering there, his eyes following you as you locked your door and made your way down the hall toward the elevator.

“You headed somewhere?” he asked, surprising himself with the sudden question.

You paused, glancing back at him with a soft smile. “Just running some errands. Nothing exciting.” You looked him over for a moment, your eyes twinkling with something like amusement. “What about you? You always hanging out in the hallway like this?”

Logan smirked slightly, taking a slow drag of his cigar before answering. “Only when I’m bored. Which is most of the time.”

You chuckled, a sound that felt too easy, too natural coming from someone like you. It made Logan’s chest tighten, though he wasn’t sure why. “Maybe you need to find a new hobby,” you teased, tilting your head at him. “Something less... brooding.”

He couldn’t help but huff a laugh at that. “Brooding’s kind of my thing,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Not exactly easy to shake.”

“I can see that,” you said, your smile widening. “But, you know, there’s more to life than standing around with a cigar, looking all intense.”

Logan’s smirk grew, despite himself. You had a way of making him feel... lighter. Like he didn’t have to carry the weight of everything all the time, he shrugged. “Old habits die hard.”

You gave him one last lingering smile before heading toward the elevator. Logan watched you go, his eyes trailing after you as the doors slid shut behind you, leaving him alone again. Except, this time, something was different. The silence didn’t feel quite as heavy, quite as suffocating. He felt... less like the man he’d been, and more like the man he could be.

Over the next few weeks, Logan found more excuses to cross your path. He’d be leaving his apartment just as you were coming home, offering you a quiet nod and a gruff “hello” that somehow always led to a brief, easy conversation. He’d make sure to be around whenever you passed through, catching glimpses of your smile and feeling that strange warmth in his chest every time you acknowledged him.

One evening, you surprised him by knocking on his door. Logan opened it to find you standing there, your hands tucked into the pockets of your jacket, a shy smile on your lips.

“Hey,” you said, rocking on your heels a little. “I was about to order some takeout. Thought maybe you’d want to join me. Since, you know, I’m sure you have better things to do than hang around in the hallway.”

Logan blinked, taken aback. No one ever just invited him to hang out—especially not someone like you. He wasn’t sure how to respond at first, the words caught somewhere between his usual gruff demeanor and the part of him that was genuinely touched by your offer.

“Yeah,” he said finally, his voice softer than usual. “Yeah, sure. Why not.”

You smiled that bright, easy smile that made his heart do something strange in his chest. “Great. Chinese okay?”

Logan nodded, stepping aside to let you guide him into your apartment. Logan couldn’t help but think how absurd this would have seemed just a few months ago—him, in a normal apartment, about to have takeout with someone like you. Maybe that was the point of this second chance. To be something different. To be something better.

Maybe you were part of that better.

As you settled onto his couch, flipping through the takeout menu, Logan glanced at you from the corner of his eye, feeling that familiar tug deep inside him. You were young, full of life, and he was... well, he was trying. 

With a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, Logan sat down beside you on your couch, the takeout menu loosely held in his hand. His eyes softened as they landed on you, but he couldn’t help the flicker of distraction that pulled his gaze toward your apartment. Something about being in your space, seeing the personal touches that made it you, tugged at him in a way he couldn’t quite put into words.

“You really don’t mind me being here?” he asked suddenly, his fingers instinctively raking through the spiked hair. His tone was light, almost teasing, but the question had a layer of insecurity that caught even him off guard.

You laughed, that bright, warm sound that always made him feel lighter, more at ease. “No, I like you being here especially since you act all tough but really you’re cute.”

He shook his head, chuckling as he leaned back against the couch, still holding the menu loosely in one hand. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” you teased, nudging his arm lightly, “you like me anyway.”

Logan didn’t deny it. He just glanced at you, his gaze soft, almost unreadable in its intensity, before letting out a quiet, almost reluctant laugh. “Yeah,” he said, his voice low but sincere. “Yeah, I do.”

For a moment, you both fell into an easy silence, the kind that only happens when two people are comfortable with each other. 

Logan, never one to sit still for too long, found himself glancing around your apartment again. There was something about being in your space that fascinated him—maybe it was because your life felt so different from the chaos he was used to. It was quieter, softer, more... grounded.

His eyes landed on a vintage record player sitting on a small table near the window. A stack of vinyl records was neatly arranged beside it, the top one showing the faded cover of some old jazz album. Logan’s brow furrowed in mild curiosity.

“You actually use that thing?” he asked, nodding toward the record player, a faint smirk on his face.

You glanced over at it, smiling fondly. “Of course I do. There's something about vinyl that just sounds... different. Better, in a way. It’s like you can feel the music, you know?”

Logan raised an eyebrow, looking at you like he was seeing you in a whole new light. “Didn’t peg you for the vinyl type.”

You chuckled softly, leaning back into the couch. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Logan.”

That made him pause, something stirring in his chest. The idea that there were layers to you he hadn’t uncovered yet intrigued him. He glanced down at the menu in his hands, but his focus was still on you. He was here, sitting in your apartment, fumbling over a takeout menu, and all he could think about was how different his life felt now compared to just months ago.

You nudged him with your foot, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Come on, focus. What do you want to order?”

Logan grunted, shifting his attention back to the menu, but his mind kept drifting—first to the record player, then to the framed photos on your bookshelf, and then, inevitably, back to you. There was something about this—this quiet moment, the simplicity of choosing takeout and sitting on a couch with someone who made him feel less... lost. Something that felt like it mattered.

After a few more minutes of back-and-forth, you settled on Chinese food. Logan called in the order, and while you waited for it to arrive, you slipped off the couch and walked over to the record player.

“Wanna see what you’ve been missing?” you asked, already pulling out a record and carefully placing it on the turntable.

Logan raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smirk. “Impress me.”

You smiled as the crackle of the needle hitting vinyl filled the room, followed by the warm, melodic tones of a classic jazz tune. The music washed over the space, and for a moment, Logan just listened, his eyes locked on you as you swayed lightly to the rhythm.

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” he said softly, leaning back into the couch as he watched you.

“I try,” you teased, sending him a wink before joining him again on the couch.

As the music played, the two of you settled back into comfortable conversation, the warmth between you growing with each shared glance, each quiet laugh.

Weeks passed after that night, and before long, the easy camaraderie between you and Logan had deepened into something more. It wasn’t like he’d planned it—he’d never planned anything in his life. Somewhere between stolen glances in the hallway, lazy evenings spent listening to vinyl records, and quiet mornings where he found himself waking up next to you, Logan had fallen for you.

It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t something he had to agonize over. It was just... right. Like this was how it was supposed to be.

You didn’t push him, and maybe that was why it worked. You gave him space when he needed it, but you were there when he came to you—no judgment, no expectations. You let him be himself, and in return, he found himself wanting to be better for you.

As you lay beside him one lazy Sunday afternoon, your head resting on his chest while the soft sound of rain pattered against the window, you felt something shift between you. It wasn’t just the comfort of being together—it was the weight of something unspoken that had been building for weeks.

You turned your head slightly, looking up at him. Logan’s eyes were closed, his arm draped casually around your waist, but you could tell he wasn’t asleep. His fingers traced lazy circles on your back, grounding you in the warmth of the moment.

“Logan,” you murmured, your voice soft, hesitant.

He grunted in response, opening one eye to glance down at you. “Yeah?”

You bit your lip, nerves fluttering in your stomach. You’d been thinking about this for a while now, but you hadn’t been sure how to bring it up. But here, now, in the quiet of your shared space, it felt like the right time. “I was thinking... maybe it’s time we took the next step.”

Logan’s fingers stilled for a moment, and you could feel him processing your words. He didn’t pull away or tense up the way you thought he might. Instead, he shifted slightly, turning to face you more fully.

“What do you mean?” His voice was soft and careful, but there was a flicker of understanding in his eyes.

“I mean...” You took a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. “I want to be with you. Completely.” 

Logan blinked, his expression unreadable for a moment as he absorbed what you were saying. You searched his face, waiting for him to pull back, to tell you this was too much, too fast. But instead, he surprised you.

His hand came up to gently cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. “You sure about that?”

You nodded, your heart swelling with emotion. “I’m sure. I know what I want, Logan. And I want you. All of you.”

For a moment, Logan just looked at you, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find any hesitation, any doubt. But when he didn’t find any, a slow, genuine smile spread across his face—the kind of smile you didn’t see often, but when you did, it melted your heart.

“If that’s what you want... then yeah. I want that too,” he said quietly, his voice rough but full of warmth.

Relief and joy washed over you, and without thinking, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his in a slow, tender kiss. His hand slipped behind your neck, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, the warmth between you growing into something more.

You felt the weight of his body as he shifted over you, the heat of his skin against yours as the rain continued to fall softly outside. And in that moment, with Logan’s arms wrapped around you, everything felt right. The future, whatever it held, didn’t feel so uncertain anymore.

You had each other and that was enough.

[cambion-companion]

I cannot concentrate on my work (ironically as a TA writing up my phd thesis) because I read your intelligence 8 tav x raphael fics and now I am shaken to the core and all I wanna do is daydream about being a clueless little slut in the house of hoep

please saer can I have some more

hahaha I'm so glad that brain worm took root, intelligence 8 Tav is delightful. I also wanted to incorporate this lovely ask as well and express my gratitude for the support you all have given me this month. All is well! Enjoy a drabble with a Tav/reader utterly oblivious to the true nature of a cambion...to them he's just a tiefling with wings! how cool!

Raphael + reader (gn) drabble

(I'll probably write another that's more romantic/cute but this was too funny to pass up)

"You have an uncanny talent at getting into the most outlandish situations." Raphael pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, inhaling a deep breath.

You looked around at the decadent room he'd rented for himself, steam rising from two baths and flower petals ornamenting the lush red carpet. "I wouldn't think a devil-guy would be the sort to have tulips thrown about."

"Roses." Raphael corrected, his hand clasping firm about your upper arm just in time to save you from slipping on the wet tile and braining yourself. "I would wager a hefty sum of gold your mind does not entertain too many thoughts at one time."

"Thank you." You murmured, touched. You allowed him to escort you to safety upon a chair and watched with vague interest at how his lips twisted in bemusement. "I should thank you for saving my bacon back there. Wasn't expecting to survive that. But Shart always gets Withers to bring me back when we run out of those glowy scroll things."

"I do believe I sense a migraine coming on." Raphael squeezed his eyes shut briefly before crossing to pour you both a glass of dark brown alcohol.

You took the fancy crystal glass and downed the drink with gusto, only realizing your mistake when the scorching whiskey had passed into your gullet, and you burst into a coughing fit. Raphael sighed and gave you a solid couple thumps on your back as you struggled to breath. "There now. Death by imbibing spirits too eagerly is no way to enter the afterlife. Not until you've served your purpose, at least."

"What?"

"I'm concerned for your well-being, dear."

You wiped your eyes with your sleeve. "That's really nice of you, Raph." He winced at the nickname but just barely managed to keep a pleasant neutral expression. "I don't know why everyone else threw such a fit about you, you're not a bad dude."

"I'm flattered." Raphael almost felt a sense of annoyance at how easy this was. He enjoyed a challenge, and this mortal was certainly not bringing it. He drained his glass fluidly and returned it with a clink to the table. "Now, your person is more or less stable for the time being."

You looked around, checking behind you. "What person?"

"Your body has been plucked from the peril you so naively flounced into." Raphael clarified, a slight edge to his words now, he was running low on patience. "Be a good mouse and run along, fetch me the crown and we can part ways amicably."

"I never imagined mice to be much good at fetching." You mused, rising to your feet as Raphael practically pushed you from his room. "That seems more a dog's forte. Oh, we have a most wonderful dog back at camp-"

The door closed in your face, so close it almost clipped your nose. You stared at the dark wood for a moment, then smiled and shrugged. You spoke a little louder so he would be able to hear through it. "His name is Scratch! What was I saying? Oh yes, dogs fetch crowns and balls better than mice! Maybe keep that in mind when giving people animal nicknames!"

No answer.

He must have gone to take a nap. You were sure cambions probably did that often since they seemed to act much like cats in every other way.

Smiling to yourself you departed, convinced that you and Raphael were now bosom friends.

[felice-jaganshi]

My Fallen Apple

Lucifer X Reader

Chapter 5

He seemed distant all day, and you didn't know why. “Hey, Lucifer, what's wrong? You don't seem like yourself.” He had been looking out a window at the city, it seemed more on fire than usual.

 

“Hm? Oh, nothing nothing, everything's fine!” He tried to smile at you, but it felt fake.

 

“Does it have to do with whatever that ‘extermination’ thing was last week? What even was that? And why couldn't I visit?”

 

“Wait, you… you don't know about the exterminations?” He was shocked. “The yearly massacre heaven conducts on Hell.”

 

“The what?!” You look shocked and horrified. “No, no one's ever said anything about that!”

 

“Oh fuck. So they just keep all the rest of you in the dark when Adam runs his little slaughter brigade every year?”

 

“Adam runs it?! Oh God, that makes so much sense. That fucking dickbag. I've got to tell everyone! They have to know what he's been doing!”

 

Lucifer suddenly grabs your shoulders, “whoa, whoa! Slow your roll there. That's not a good idea! You could get actually kicked out of heaven for telling anyone! Then… then you'd be stuck here with me. Forever.” His eyes filled with hurt, “I could never do that to you.”

 

You take his hands from your shoulders into yours, “What if I wanted to stay here with you?”

A blush spread across his face, “wha- Becca, I'm married, remember?”

 

“And she's been gone for seven years without a word! Is she really coming back? Besides, you need a friend you can rely on. Someone who's got your back no matter what.” You held his hands a little tighter. He sighed and squeezed back.

 

“I should push you away for your own good… while I still can. But… honestly I'm tired of being alone. So if you really want to stay as a friend , you can. I'll take responsibility for you and you can stay here in my palace.”

 

“Thank you. I'll just have to go back once more and get all my stuff. Next week, I'll move in, and our weekly hangouts can be daily.” You smile and he can't help but smile back, 

 

“yeah, that sounds… that sounds nice.” 

Suddenly, his phone rang and he pulled away, “augh, that ringtone.. sorry this one's important. Work stuff.” He looked at his phone contact and grimaced at it. “Hooo, okay… you can do this, just the biggest idiot you've ever met, and your eternal beloath-ed.” He took a deep breath and answered the call. “Adam. What? You literally just finished. What could you possibly- a fucking meeting? You can't just say what your ugly- HE HUNG UP ON ME?!! THAT BITCH!!” Suddenly Lucifer grew horns and a tail, a little fire lighting above his head. You squeak and jump back a bit. His devil form was out and… you know… the more you looked at it, the less scary and the more… attractive it actually was.

 

After he was done cursing the phone, he turned and looked at you, confused by your staring till he realized his horns were out. “Ah… uh, sorry. This happens when I get too angry.” He returned to his normal form. “I didn't scare you, did I? I promise, I'd never hurt you, I'm not that kinda guy.” He held his hands out in front of himself, pleading with you.

 

You shook off the shock and stepped closer, taking one of his hands. “No, no, I'm fine. I just… that form looks really nice.” You're blushing, you can feel it. And he sees it too.

 

“Oh! Oh. A heh… Well, thank you for thinking I look nice! That's a nice ego boost coming from someone as pretty as you.” He then realized he said that out loud! “I mean I um, hey excuse me a minute while i call my daughter!” He then ran off to hide from you in the palace.

You roll your eyes, well, at least he thinks you're pretty. That's a good first step. Probably the most important step will be getting him to accept Lilith's not coming back… but that would be a hard one. Ten thousand years they were together for… just taking 7 years apart for a break was a drop in the bucket for that long of a marriage. 

 

Regardless, the next step was to move in and act naturally. Get him comfortable around you, enough to introduce you to his daughter. That was something you only do when fully committed to keeping someone in your life. Plus, maybe Charlie will help with the “get over lilith” campaign you were going to eventually need to run.

You decide to wander the palace and see if you could find where Lucifer had disappeared to.

 

It took an hour before you found him curled up in his bed.

“Lucifer? What's wrong?”

“I- I'm a bad father…” He was trying not to sob, tears in his eyes as his head peeked out from a burrito of blankets.

 

“Hey now, what makes you say that?” You walk over and sit on the edge of his bed.

 

“I called her and asked her to talk to Adam for me! I can't even take care of my own shit!” You sigh and lay next to him, pulling him into a tight hug. “Oh you silly burrito… there, there.” You pull the blankets back enough to free his hair and play with it. Eventually the waterworks stop and he starts to calm down, looking sleepy. You can't help but giggle a little, “Uh oh, is it nap time for hell's king? Come on, let's get you back up on the pillows at least.” You adjust him back up with ease and get him comfy before draping one of your own wings over him. He actually starts purring as his eyes close.

 

“Hm… you'd make a great mother.” He said sleepily, and your eyes tear up. You can't help it, and you keep playing with his hair. 

 

“Thank you… I tried very hard in life.” His eyes open back up, and he looks at you in a moment of wonder and curiosity, but decides not to bring up something that might cause you more pain. You two just enjoy a peaceful moment in each others company till you both fall asleep. 

[stabbyfoxandrew]

vampdrew please :)

WIP Wednesday (11/13) | Vampire Andrew AU (Part 198)

"Well, we won't let you go under." Nicky says with a semi-convincing smile before going to get in the car. The others are already in their spots.

"Not without concrete shoes." Neil mutters under his breath. It's just the two of them now. Andrew flicks his cigarette towards the bushes.

"After you, drowning man," Andrew says, gesturing to the backseat. He thinks— no, he knows— he can handle sitting next to Neil tonight.

"I'm sitting between you?" Neil asks stupidly.

"Unless you'd rather be stuffed in the trunk." Andrew says, thoughtfully. "You know, I think you'd fit rather nicely. Want to try?"

"While it would probably be more comfortable, I get trunk-sick." Oh, he’s funny tonight.

"Then get in," Andrew tells him. "We haven't got all night. The place closes at two."

Neil looks a little like he wants to make a break for it.

"You know Neil, I already told these clowns about your secret stash and they took it pretty well all things considered. How do you think the upperclassmen will take it?" Andrew muses. "I think they'd probably demand to know what the money's for. At the very least, they'd be disturbed by the Kevin shrine. I know I was."

"It's not a shrine." Neil says, looking down at his feet.

"Is it not? There were dozens of photos of him in there. Should I go upstairs and get it to show the others?"

"If you break into my room again I’ll kill you." Neil hisses so low the others won’t hear. Oh, so funny. Andrew grins.

"Alright then. Let's go." Andrew once again waves a hand at the car but Neil refuses to budge. And now Andrew's about to lose his patience. "Neil, you're getting on my nerves."

"Well, you're kidnapping me so I think we're square."

"It's not kidnapping. You agreed to this."

"I was blackmailed into it."

"Potato, tomato." Andrew shrugs.

"That doesn't even make sense." Aaron says from the backseat, leaning to look at them. ‘Get him in the car already, Andrew.’

"$101,398." Andrew says, making Neil go still. "Lenses in the color ‘dark chocolate’. L'Oreal Ultimate Black #1. Twenty-eight photos of Kevin, nineteen including Riko because they were attached at the hip. All of this I could sort of understand. But what are the numbers, Neil?"

"What numbers?"

Andrew begins to recite the digits on Neil's coded page and all the blood drains out of Neil's face. Andrew only gets to the second line before he manages, "What the fuck?"

"Yes, that's what I'm wondering.” Andrew asks softly, just for Neil. “Is it a coded message? Was it written by you or for you? It didn't look like your handwriting, now did it? No, too feminine. So it was a woman, hm?” 

Neil's heart is stumbling over itself so Andrew has definitely hit a nerve. He pulls out a jackhammer and continues prodding, hoping to break him.

“But what was she writing? Instructions? A love letter? A poem about a strange man covering up his natural looks? We'll never know unless you tell us, Neil. Let us in on your secrets and maybe I'll let you stay here and hide in your dorm. What's it going to be?"

Neil just stands there, pale in the face with a rabbit’s heart.

“Guys, come on. Let’s gooooo,” Nicky whines.

"Tick-tock, Neil.” Andrew says, moving a finger to and fro like a metronome. "You're going to make us late. I hate being late."

“You know what? I don’t care. And my binder is none of your business so fucking bite me." Neil spits out. And everyone in the car turns to look at them with horror. Neil's got his back to them, but Andrew grins.

"Careful what you wish for, Neil." He says gravely. "Now get in the goddamn car before I put you in it."

Neil doesn't say anything more. Defeated, he climbs into the backseat. Andrew gets in beside him and finally, they start for Columbia. Andre keeps his face tucked into his shoulder and stares out the window, trying to ignore the warmth of Neil's thigh pressed against his own. Stupid weirdo human with his stupid warm blood and his stupid locked-up mind.