#it bothered me so much but i forgot it most of the frames so i didnt edit it back it

[siriuslysatorusimping]

Locked Out (Gojo Satoru)

This is pretty much just idiotic fluff. University AU. I made a post like over a year ago about this idea and now here we are. I just wanted to post this first bit as a lil taste of what’s to come!

The First Key

Flipping through her notebook, Rinko hummed along with the quiet music filtering from the computer speakers as she added the occasional extra note.

Night shifts were one of her favorite things about working for the dorms. Most of the time, they were uneventful except for a midnight package pickup from a nocturnal student or someone forgetting their keys.

“Yo!” a deep voice greeted cheerfully, “Could I get a lockout key?”

Nodding, she didn’t bother looking up before swiveling her chair around to open the filing cabinet with the lockout forms.

“Name and student ID number?”

“Gojo,” he replied, rattling off his ID as well.

“Dorm number?” Rinko asked as she located his sheet and turned back to the desk. “D’you know the drill for–?”

She trailed off when she finally looked up from the paper in her hands.

People forgot to take their keys with them all the time when they bathed. The majority of lockout keys she’d seen were unfortunate students who finished their bath or shower only to find that they couldn’t get back into their room. He wasn’t even the first person she’d seen wearing nothing but a towel while they asked for a key that week.

But he was, by far, the most attractive she’d encountered yet.

Pale skin, perfect complexion—not a single blemish in sight. Skin like that shouldn’t even be possible for someone living in the dorms. Messy, white hair dripped occasionally as it clung to his forehead. Eyelashes that matched his hair framed eyes so blue they threatened to drown her.

Tall—so tall. Even if she weren’t sitting, he clearly towered over her. Very built. So many muscles. Did he have an eight-pack? The dark blue towel hung low on his hips left very little to the imagination. Dimples sat at the edges of a shameless grin adorning his face, perfect teeth on display.

A pretty boy who knew he was pretty. Just perfect.

“Two twenty-four,” he stated, and she blinked, trying to remember why he would tell her such a random number. “They gave the regular spiel about these keys at the start of last semester, but I honestly didn’t pay attention. Mind giving me a refresher?”

Dorm number. She’d asked for his dorm number. Lockout key—right.

His eyes seemed to sparkle at her while she gave a brief explanation, trying to ignore the heat that crept up her neck when his gaze wandered as she spoke. She had no doubt that his once-over mirrored the one she’d given him, except she did doubt her outfit was as flattering as his towel.

“Fill this out,” she stated evenly, placing the sheet on the desk in front of him. She turned away to open the key cabinet, locating the spare for his dorm. “Just the first row.”

He hummed his affirmative, and she held the key out when he slid the form back toward her.

“Thanks, Miss Desk Girl.” His fingers brushed against hers as he accepted the key. “Be back before you know it.”

Sending her a wink, he tapped the desk with two fingers before turning to walk to the stairwell, leaving her staring at his towel-covered ass until it disappeared from sight.

“You didn’t think to get dressed?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

The towel was even lower on his hips than before as he handed the key back to her.

“Only had fifteen minutes,” he replied, tilting his head to the side innocently. “Took me a while to find my keys once I got back inside, and I didn’t wanna get in trouble for taking too long just because I threw on some shorts, ya know?” His lips pulled into a small smirk. “Plus, I figured you might not mind getting another look since you were kinda drooling earlier–”

“You won’t get in trouble for putting clothes on,” she cut him off, her face burning at being called out for staring. She scribbled her name in the box to confirm he’d returned the key. “The fifteen-minute rule is just to make sure you actually bring the key back. Most of us don’t mind as long as you don’t take forever or you get it back before our shift is over.”

“Yeah?” He reached to take the key back. “What time does your shift end? I’ll have this back before–”

“Doesn’t matter since you’re already here. But for future reference, please put clothes on before you come back.”

“It’s okay to admit you like the view,” he teased, bracing his elbow on the desk. “I definitely like my view. Though, it feels kinda unfair since I’m the only one in a towel. I could bring you one to even things out–”

“I’m good, thanks.”

-

AN: what do you guys think?? I know it’s short, but I did say it’d be a mini series :)

[heich0e]

yuuji calls sukuna a lot.

it's almost like second nature to him now, muscle memory even, so many years since getting his first cellphone; any time he finds himself idle, maybe on his walk home after his part-time job, or on a break between his college classes, he picks up his phone and dials his older brother without thinking. they never talk about anything of importance—maybe just what yuuji did that day, or some gossip he overheard, or what the two of them should have that night for dinner—but he still makes the call.

sukuna always acts annoyed when he answers, greeting him with a characteristically terse 'yeah, what?' that yuuji never pays any mind to. but he still answers the call—at least most of the time—and that simple truth speaks volumes in and of itself.

sukuna's phone rings at a few minutes past 1am, and his little brother's name lights up the caller ID.

"yeah, what?" sukuna snaps groggily, holding his phone up to his ear. he'd passed out on the couch soon after he got home from work, a half-drunk and now room temperature can of beer left abandoned on the table in front of his spread knees. yuuji's babbling starts as soon as the call connects and his brother greets him, and it takes sukuna a moment to make sense of him.

"—'n now i can't finder!"

"the hell are you talking about, dumbass?" the elder of the two grumbles, scrubbing a hand across his face. his brother's voice is panicked and hard to understand.

"we got spliddup at the bar, 'n now i dunno where she is anymore—"

"don't know where who is? fuck, are you hammered?" sukuna complains, sitting himself upright on the sofa as he wipes sleep from the corner of his eyes, suddenly a bit more awake than he was when the phone first rang.

yuuji says your name with a croaking, worried voice, and sukuna sighs exasperatedly. he stares down pensively at the can of beer he forgot to drink on the coffee table, then his eyes flicker to a framed photo hanging on the wall across the room—the glass smudged, frame slightly crooked, and photograph sun-bleached from the years it's spent hanging there.

"just..." he grunts as he pushes himself up to his feet, "fuckin' send me the address and stay where you are, idiot."

it's not hard to find his little brother once he arrives to the address yuuji sent him—especially since the youngest itadori brother is waiting (as promised) right by the entrance of the familiar bar near the university campus where both you and yuuji attend classes. it's still busy for so late in the night, but the clubs are closed now and little bars like this are the only places still open. sukuna's not even sure what the difference is anyway, because the lights here are still dim and the music is loud and there are still people dancing off to one side of the establishment, so the distinction between the two seems tenuous if not entirely negligible. but as someone who's spent his fair share of nights in bars just like (and including) this one, he's usually not really one to complain.

but tonight's different.

yuuji is teetering a bit when his brother arrives—an unusual sight, considering he's usually pretty good at holding his liquor.

"shit, how much did you drink?" are the first words out of sukuna's mouth when he approaches.

the youngest itadori's cheeks are flushed as pink as his hair, and he grimaces in the wake of the eldest's question—he's always been a terrible liar, especially when it comes to his brother, so he doesn't even bother trying to deny it. sukuna doesn't wait for a response in any case, turning his head towards the thick of the crowd and letting his eyes scan through it.

he doesn't see you.

"where'd you see her last?" he asks, leaning towards his brother to be heard over the music.

"by the bar!" yuuji replies, raising his own voice to overcome the bass. "she said she was getting one last drink, but she never came back to the table."

yuuji's lip wobbles a bit as he concludes his sentence, but he sucks it quickly into his mouth and catches it between his teeth.

"and you looked for her?" sukuna asks again.

"all over," yuuji nods, letting his lip slip out from between the bite of his incisors to reply. "fushiguro's doing another lap. nobara's checking the bathrooms."

sukuna ruffles a hand through his hair, suddenly realizing it's probably a mess from his rudely-interrupted slumber. "maybe she just left or somethin'."

"she wouldn't do that, you know that," yuuji says firmly. there's an insistence burning behind his eyes as he looks to his older brother, and it's the most sober he's seemed all night.

sukuna rolls his eyes, even though he knows yuuji's right—you'd never leave on your own, much less without so much as a goodbye. the two of you have been joined at the hip for long enough he's almost surprised that yuuji wasn't able to find you with some weird telepathic form of echolocation. he swings an arm up over his little brother's shoulders pushing him down a little just to tease him, before using his grip to tug him towards the crowd.

"you track down that little sea urchin friend of yours and i'll take a look around. meet me back here in ten minutes or text me if you find that little pest, alright?"

the bar is harder to navigate the further in sukuna travels from the entrance, the bodies pressing closer together with every step he takes away from fresh night air. he's pissed off, but that's not out of character for him. he's more pissed off than he usually is, considering not even an hour before he'd been peacefully sleeping at home, and now he's glaring at some drunk college kid who just almost spilled their beer on him.

"move," he hisses through his teeth at the wide-eyed kid whose life he can practically see flashing through his eyes as he shoulders past him. sukuna would be lying if he said the look didn't improve his mood at least marginally.

as sukuna weaves through the bodies in the bar, his eyes don't stop looking for you. it's almost startling how quickly he can rule people out—how definitively he can say that someone is or isn't you with just a passing glance. he starts to doubt himself as he reaches the far corner of the bar and begins to round back towards the entrance, an annoying, grating irritation in the back of his mind. worry, maybe, if he were the type.

then he sees you.

just the faintest glimpse of your profile, caught behind the shoulder of the man who has you backed into a corner by a pillar, hidden mostly away from the crowd—at least as hidden as anyone can be in a place like this.

sukuna feels his lip curling into a furious sneer as he takes a step towards you—people move out of his path wordlessly as he trudges over to that dark corner where you're tucked away.

it's only when he gets a bit closer that he's able to read the lines of your body properly. you're teetering, just like yuuji had been—the two of you had probably enabled each other in your intoxication that night like the stupid kids sukuna knows you both to be. but you're also distinctly uncomfortable, pressed up against the wall as if to put as much distance between you and the man hovering over you as you possibly can. your eyes glance off to the side, like you're searching uselessly for an escape.

instead, they meet his.

"sukuna," you gasp out in surprise, and the man you're speaking to glances over his shoulder in confusion. he seems annoyed, and a bit nervous, when he spots the man (taller, and broader than he is) standing behind him with a scowl.

sukuna hears the relief in your voice when you say his name. reads it behind your glassy eyes.

"what are you doing here?" you ask, reaching out towards him clumsily.

the man in front of you puts a hand on your waist—possibly to steady you, more likely to stop you—and it makes sukuna see red.

"hands off," sukuna snaps, wrapping a hand around your upper arm and tugging you into his side away from the creep.

"who's this? you said you don't have a boyfriend," the kid asks you, jutting a thumb towards sukuna accusatorially.

you mumble something quietly in reply about him being yuuji's brother, tucking yourself a bit closer to sukuna as you say it.

"your brother?" he asks as his eyes squint in confusion, having clearly only caught part of your explanation. "you're ditching me for your brother?"

sukuna's anger flares again at the entitlement this little brat has the nerve to display so flagrantly. the older man's hand slips down to your waist on instinct, and then lower still to the curve of your ass, making a show of how his big hand grips into the flesh beneath it. you squeak quietly at the contact, turning and hiding your burning face against sukuna's chest. he keeps his hand right where it is.

the stranger's eyes widen at the inappropriate display before him and sukuna leans in close with a vicious, almost manic grin.

"we're very close."

[entitled-fangirl]

A brilliant melody.

Cregan Stark x quiet!reader

Summary: Cregan marries a woman who never speaks. When she finally does, he feels his heart melt three times over.

Warnings: SMUT (p in v), talk of abuse, tears

A/n: I've been wanting some kind of cool transitions for my writing. Like instead of the "...", some people have really cool art there. Does anyone know how to do that? I hope that makes sense 😬

Masterlist

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

She was quiet. 

Being surrounded by the loud men of the north made her a quiet girl.

Cregan wasn't sure what to do with her. 

…

"You're a meek thing, aren't you?" Cregan asked as the two walked the courtyard of Winterfell.

In one day, they'd be wed. Bonded for life.

She only nodded.

She only ever really nodded or shook her head. 

He hummed as they continued walking. 

Her father had told Cregan of this days before, as if it was a defect that could put a halt to their betrothal plans. Cregan made sure to assure her father that it was not.

After all, she could speak. She just chose not to.

"Winterfell is beautiful in the winter," he began to ramble. "When the snow falls, it covers all of this in its brilliant white. Do you enjoy the snow?"

She considered his question and gave a small nod.

He grinned, "That's my northern girl. Luckily, Winterfell is warm." He noticed the light shiver in her frame. "Perhaps we should go back indoors. Don't want my future bride to freeze before I can place my house cloak upon her shoulders?"

…

True to his word, Cregan managed to place his cloak over her shoulders the very next day. It was a wondrous ceremony filled with many from across the North. 

Everyone gawked at the beauty of the new Lady of Winterfell.

But when one-by-one they moved to speak to her, Cregan was quick to deny them.

The two enjoyed the feast after. Seated at a high table, Cregan often leaned over to whisper things to her.

"You look radiant. Like the sun itself."

"I do believe the other lords may be envious that I have captured the most gorgeous woman of Westeros."

"I do wish you'd eat more. You've hardly touched the plate."

It was a strange sight, seeing such a burly brute of a man whisper sweetly to his wife.

"Is something bothering you?"

She shook her head.

Cregan sighed. "I've only known you for a few days, but I do believe I recognize the shaking of one's hands to associate with nerves."

It was true. Her hands shook violently.

"Is it the bedding ceremony?"

She shrugged.

His brows raised and he leaned closer, "You can be honest with me. I… I want you to be honest with me."

The woman looked down at her hands in thought. Finally, she looked back up at him and nodded.

"Aye. I see." Cregan leaned away and rested his elbows on the table, his head in his hands as he rubbed at his forehead. "Then I'll call it off."

He didn't miss the way her brows pulled together.

"The ceremony, lovely. I'll call it off." 

…

Not long after, Cregan stood and held his hand out to her. "May I dance with you, dear wife?"

She grabbed his hand with enthusiasm. It seemed she didn't need words, for expressions were enough.

He smiled at her as he lead her to the dance floor. 

Cregan was a lousy dancer. Being a northern lord meant there were many more important matters than learning how to properly dance. So, it was put aside. 

He knew the steps in truth, and he could lead just fine, his steps were just too harsh, his movements too calculated. 

It was just not how he expressed himself.

She, though, was marvelous.

It was as if each step was not one of a practiced art. It was as if it was how she naturally moved. 

Cregan was in so much awe that he nearly forgot to continue the lead. 

She didn't need words to express herself. Her movements were enough.

He felt as if he was finally seeing her. 

And she was beautiful.

The song ended, to Cregan's surprise as he snapped from his thoughts, and the guests clapped for their Lord and Lady of Winterfell.

…

Honoring his word, Cregan forbade the ceremony. No other living creature would be a witness to their consummation but the two of them.

After laying her upon the rich furs upon their bed, he was careful to properly prepare her to take him. 

Now, he forced himself to do so slowly, his hips slowly pushed to meet hers as he entered her.

She hissed lightly at the pain, and he swore he heard a small noise come from her throat instinctually.

He began to wonder what her voice sounded like.

Once seated in her fully, he paused to give her a moment to breathe. Her breath was quickened and her hands gripped his biceps as she tried to regain herself.

Cregan placed a light kiss to her lips, basking in the newness of her lips against his, as well as the eagerness she gave back as they did so.

Her hands slid up to cup his cheeks, suddenly gaining confidence.

"Have you adjusted, pretty girl?"

He shifted his hips, not thinking much as he waited for her response.

The sweetest breathy moan left her lips.

Cregan's eyes widened, and he had to stop himself from letting his lust take over then and there.

He tucked his face into her neck, laying heavy kisses along the way. "Easy now. Just tap me to stop."

And with that, he began to move his hips.

Not much came from her lips. She was used to not using her voice, that it almost seemed as if it was more work to use it then stay silent. It was hard for Cregan to tell her feelings, so he often had to tilt his head back up to gauge her reaction by her expressions alone.

He didn't realize how much he spoke in general until he was around her. How someone could happily be so silent, he wasn't sure.

But if the scratching against his back was any measure, he'd say he was pleasing her well.

"You're taking me so pretty."

She practically preened at his praise, her breath catching or escaping each time.

At one point, he pressed his hips firmly to hers, reaching deeper than he had before.

His face found its way to her neck again, her hands pulling at his hair.

But he paused, catching his breath and trying to instill a reaction from her.

Her hands recaptured his hair and pulled again. When he still didn't move, she tried to shift her hips to gain more friction. He was enjoying every second, despite the mere torture it was to not chase his own high.

He pressed a sloppy kiss to her neck, "Patience."

Her motions should have been enough of a reaction for him, but he wanted more. He'd do anything to hear her voice more. 

One of his hands moved down to her clit, pressing his thumb down and circling the bundle of nerves. 

A small whine came from her throat.

He felt warmth spread across his body, "Needy, aren't you?"

Her hand made a last-ditch effort to pull at his hair. He could hear her barely contained breath in his ear and a small voice.

"…Cregan… please…"

Cregan almost finished then.

Her voice was so soft. So sweet. Hoarse from its lack of use and so breathy. 

It was beautiful.

But guilt overshadowed all of that. He shouldn't have pushed her to the point of speaking. 

His hand trailed up her body to the bed, preparing himself again. "I won't deny you any longer. I'll give you what you want, sweet girl."

…

She began to speak to him after that. 

The times were few and far between, but nonetheless, he never took a single word for granted. 

Because she only spoke to him. 

 She never spoke her mind in full, so Cregan took it upon himself to do it for her. 

In meetings, she'd pull at his sleeve, prompting him to instinctually bend his head down towards her to properly hear her soft voice amongst the others. That was how she contributed to meetings: to tell her thoughts to the only one there she trusted. Over time, the men in the meetings caught on, and would pause to hear what the Lady had to say. It was a game of telephone, barely hearing a peep from the woman as she spoke to Cregan, and he voiced it aloud in his own manner. 

When they walked through the busy streets of the city, he kept his hand wrapped around hers, promising to give his attention to her when she squeezed it tightly.

Outside of their chambers, their form of communication was touch, often tapping one another gently. 

Inside, however, soft exchanges were common. She would only speak calculated thoughts, not one to ramble, but she would talk of her day, her newest book, or questions of things she always wondered about the man. 

In turn, he'd respond in the same manner, quieting himself naturally to match her tone as the two gazed into the flames of the fire that warmed the room.

"I wish you'd dance more."

Her head snapped up to him with furrowed brows.

"You're a beautiful dancer. I only wish I could see it more." He leaned against the back of the sofa. "Who taught you?"

"My mother," she spoke softly. "She was wonderful."

He smiled when he noticed the reminiscent look in her eyes at the thought of her mother. He pushed a strand of her hair from her face. "Tell me about her."

She leaned into his touch. "Father mocked me when I wouldn't speak. Said it was shameful. But mother always told me that feelings are expressed by actions rather than words."

"How so?" He absentmindedly asked.

"Men often say that they love their wives, but their actions are rather the opposite."

He hummed as he considered it. "Have I ever made you feel that way?"

"No."

It was the quickest response he'd heard from her. It only fueled his need to know as much as he could. To know her fully.

"Have you always been so quiet?"

As if a switch had been flipped, everything about her quieted.

Her breathing. Her voice. Her expressions. Her thoughts.

Silent. 

Whatever had happened had to have been traumatic to instill such a reaction from her.

"Forgive me. That was too forward, even for me to ask-"

"-I don't wish to talk about it today."

He felt relieved that his question hadn't dissolved her trust in him completely. 

"Well," he pulled her to him. "When you are ready to speak, I shall listen."

…

The next day, Cregan meticulously planned. And his efforts had paid off. 

She walked into the meeting room at the same time she did every week, to see it lacking its usual members. 

The table was pushed off to the side, and Cregan stood in its place as he donned a bright smile at the sight of her. 

Against the back wall, a few musicians stood with their instruments. 

Confusion spread through her and a wave of anxiety as well, prompting her to only stare at him blankly.

He was quick to correct it, stepping forward towards her. "I've excused the council today. I… I wanted to see you dance again."

Once her mind warmed up to the idea, a bright smile came across her face, accepting the hand that he extended to her. 

"I must admit, my love," Cregan said as he stepped in time with the music. "I am not a gentle man. But I am trying. For you."

She nodded, not daring to speak her overwhelming thoughts at the moment. 

…

After, they sat at the large dining table, the emptiness of it mattering not to the two lovers who sat together at one end.

"My uncle," she stated, breaking the silence.

His head tilted up to meet her gaze, "Hmm?"

Her cheeks turned a slight pink, "You asked how I became so quiet." 

Recognition flowed over his face, "Ah. Yes, I did." He sipped his wine and leaned towards her. "Your uncle, then?"

She nodded. 

"He was unkind to you?"

She picked at the skin of her fingers, seemingly reliving the moments in her mind. 

A battle within herself.

He put a hand on her thigh, "I will not force you to tell me things you do not wish to."

"I do," she insisted. "But I know not how to."

"Begin to speak, and I shall piece it all together."

She took a deep breath. "My uncle hit me when I spoke out of turn. At first, at least. Then… it was whenever I spoke at all."

He felt ice go down his veins and a feeling like a rock going down his throat. 

But being such a skittish thing, he knew not to react too harshly.

"When I told my father, he…" her eyes became glassy. "He said he was right for it. That… that a girl was made to only… shut her mouth and open her legs."

He couldn't keep it in anymore. "And you believed them?"

"When I spoke to you for the first time, I feared you'd be the same."

"I bask in the sound of your voice, my girl. I hope that you see that."

A warm tear ran down her cheek as she looked up at him.

"Oh, sweet woman," he cooed as he cupped her cheek. "Do not cry over false words."

When more tears began to fall, he quickly pushed her chair out from the table and pulled her into his lap.

She tucked her face into his neck, melting against him as if she wished to disappear. 

He held her close, not caring when his tunic became damp. When he did speak, it was soft and assuring whispers.

Once she caught her breath, she pulled away from him. "Forgive me."

"I don't believe I will."

Her eyes widened, and he realized his mistake in word choice. 

"Sweet girl, you've nothing to apologize for. That's all I meant."

She relaxed at that. She reached up and wiped her cheeks with a sniffle. "Actions have always spoke more than words."

He reached up and brushed a stray tear from her cheek. "Have they?" He asked softly.

She felt a smile come to her lips at his touch. "You are different. You could speak or act, and still, I'd only hear a brilliant melody to which I can always trust."

He never felt such love radiate as it did then.

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

Taglist: @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia

[misshugs]

The Cameragirl || snc

You've been Sam and Colby's cameragirl for some time now. Usually, nothing too crazy happened to you in most investigations, but this time...

warnings: paranormal activity, reader getting attacked, near death experience, strangling(?), cursing, angst?

a/n: took a bit of inspo after watching the boys' video of the asylum, but nothing exactly like it. just the fact that the place is an asylum

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3]

word count: 3.6k

[u n e d i t e d]

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

As they were making their iconic intro and explaining what this new place was about, you made sure to have a sturdy pulse whilst filming them.

"Today, it's just me, Sam and our lovely cameragirl, Y/n." Colby said, letting you shift the camera towards your face and smile at it.

"Hello there." You said, making sure your face was extremely close to the camera, merely because it has become your way of introducing yourself.

"And since it's only us today like the good old days, we decided to make something fun. ALL of us." Sam explained to the camera and smirked, looking directly at you.

You batted your eyes, looking at them while they kept on smiling menancingly at you. "This wasn't a part of the contract." You said, gaining a laugh from both of them.

You zoomed onto his face and began talking with this soft, almost narrative voice. A voice you very well knew they enjoyed. "What is this oh so fun idea you seem to be hyping about, mr. Golbach?"

"Why thank you for asking." Sam nodded slightly, moving his attention towards the camera. "The three of us are gonna do a little challenge tonight." He clapped his hands together as you began unzooming the camera, putting Colby back on frame.

"That's right, we're going to walk alone, lights out throughout some of the most haunted corridors from this place." Colby continued. "The owners of this place told us it gets freaky when people are alone, so we thought this might get us some good activity."

"We have some cameras with nightvision but we're not gonna see shit." Sam added, "After a while, we all should find our way back to the main lobby."

"So stay until the end to see how that's gonna turn out." Colby says, getting close to the camera before covering it with his hand, making you stop the recording for the cut.

"That was pretty good." You said, looking at the video slightly.

"You're still good with the challenge, right?" Sam asked, looking at you. You scoffed.

"Please. I wouldn't have come if I wasn't sure about it. Remember you told me about it before the video?"

"I know, I know. Just making sure, you know how I am." He laughs. "Wouldn't want you to do something you're not comfortable with."

"You're saying that like we haven't known eachother for how long?"

He chuckles. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"Alright, so since we're all settled, should we start right away?" Colby chimed in, looking at both of you.

"Not yet. This place has some good cinematic potential, lemme cook first." You said, looking around with your flashlight.

"Aight, we'll let you do your thing, I'll go ahead and look for the equipment." Colby said.

"Oh, shoot. I forgot to ask the owners about something." Sam said, taking out his phone.

"Go out with Colby, I'll be here waiting." You said, fixing back your camera to start recording.

"Alone?" They both asked, looking at eachother and then at you.

"I do my best work alone, gentlemen. You know that." You begin walking towards the shadiest corridor you've seen in your life, without even looking back.

"Oh wow. Fearless. She's trying to do the challenge before us." Colby laughed.

"Alright, I'll be super quick. If anything happens, just yell. As loud as you can." Sam said, smiling.

"Copy that." You laughed.

In the blink of an eye, you were left alone. You were used to these type of things, so it didn't bother you much. You've somehow become numb to all of this paranormal adventuring.

And that was one of the main reasons why you liked to take control of the camera, since you were able to keep your cool in stressful situations, making it easier for the viewers later on.

Plus, you didn't know how to act on camera and they were the professionals... allegedly.

Whenever something odd happened, you made sure to try and record as much as you could, in the best angles possible. You liked to joke around and call yourself a professional in your craft, although sometimes it wasn't even a joke.

You were passionate about it. The videos and the ghosts, it was only natural to try and do more, risk yourself to do something more interesting and outgoing.

That's a piece of yourself they loved about you. You were simply a perfect match in their combo.

As you began to do your cinematic, you began to have shivers. A sudden draft of air passing through you, as if a window suddenly opened.

Looking around, there was no possible way of that happening. You were in the middle of the corridor, absolutely no chance of an air draft simply passing through so randomly.

You thought it might've been a bit odd, but nothing you haven't felt before anyways. While you kept on making some videos, an eerie feeling of someone watching crossed over your spine.

The sensation of a presence slowly getting closer to you behind your back.

Almost feeling the heat of another person behind you, towering over you.

Hurriedly looking back, you were met with Sam's hand almost touching your shoulder. He stopped midway, knowing he got caught trying to scare you. "You bitch." You spit out, making him laugh.

"Damn it!" He said mid laugher. "I was so quiet this time, how do you always seem to know?"

"I can feel you lurking closer, you stalker." You looked away from his gaze, trying to ignore the thoughts of his pretty face. You began walking back to where he came from, meeting Colby in the process.

"I'm not a stalker, if anything, I'm protecting."

"Quietly from the shadows, sounds like a stalker to me, but you do you." You smiled softly, looking at the confused Colby.

"I left for a second, what did I miss?"

"Stalker behavior, nothing else." You said, putting your camera up again and ready to record.

Colby shook his head from side to side, already being on your side of the story without even asking further questions. "I can't believe you brother."

"Wha- it wasn't-..." Sam sighed, defeated. He knew you were joking, so he wasn't going to win anyways.

You laughed and pointed the camera at them. "Ready when you are." They nodded and you began to record.

"So as you can see, in our hands we have some devices that we'll scatter throughout this first room. If you've been here before, you'll probably be familiar, but if you haven't, these are basically some motion censor devices that will let us know if something walks infront of it." Colby explained, turning one of the devices on and showing to the camera how it worked.

As they organized everything, the REM-POD immediately began beeping. "Oh, shit. That's the rem pod." Sam said, stopping on its tracks. "That was the temperature dropping."

You made sure the camera caught that as you got closer to it. "Oh fuck. I was feeling a bit cold since we got here." Colby added. "Alright. I think we're ready."

"Okay. If there's any spirit around that would like to communicate with us, we would like for you to use any of these devices we've put up for you." Sam started, as you made sure to get far enough from everything for the shot.

"You can touch these lights on the floor, or maybe this device I have on my hand." Colby continued, pointing towards the EMF reader. "We mean no harm, we'd just like to talk to someone."

A couple of seconds passed, looking around, waiting for something to happen.

"Maybe they don't want..." Sam began, before getting interrupted by the REM-POD beeping, making you hurriedly move your camera angle. "Oop. Nevermind. Thank you very much. Can you do that again if you're here with us? To let us know it wasn't something else?"

Silence filled the room for a while, before the device started to beep once again.

Excited, they began asking questions to this entity, expecting for it to be somewhat intelligent enough to give answers back.

Luckily, it was. It seemed to be someone that died inside the asylum, a woman. Curious about the story of this woman, they kept on asking questions. Some of them being answered, others being completely ignored.

Asides from the constant beep from their device, you heard a knock coming from one of the corridors. Quickly looking around, they stopped talking. "What?" Colby asked.

"Heard something." You whispered. The room went silent, followed by what sounded like footsteps getting closer. You turn the camera back at them and their faces were shocked.

"Holy fuck." Sam whispered.

"That was like... thumps. We're the only ones here, right?" Colby asked him.

"Yeah, we're supposed to be." Sam says, walking towards the place they heard the sound, quietly. You followed close behind. "Hello?"

Nothing. They kept on looking around, searching and at the same time waiting for something else to happen. "There's no one here." Colby says. "But that was clear as day."

"Super clear, the camera must've have heard that, for sure." Sam said, looking at you as you nodded. "That was crazy."

"Yeah, let's try something else but closer to this area, maybe it's more active." Colby said, and all of you nodded.

A couple of minutes later, and you were all set up. This time around, they turned on a spirit box to try and communicate better.

The idea was to first use it as normal, then for Colby to do the Estes Method.

And so, the spirits began to talk.

"What's this." It spat out. Colby and Sam looked at eachother, smiling.

"Hello, this is a spirit box, you can use it to communicate with us. Would you mind telling us who you are?" Sam said, looking around.

"Hello?"

"Hi, hello." Colby responded. "Who are we talking to."

"I'm scared."

"Scared? Scared of what?" Colby asked, furrowing his eyebrows whilst looking at the camera.

"Behind you."

They quickly looked behind them. "Oh, fuck. I hate that." Colby said, as you smiled at their gestures.

It quickly faded away when you felt the familiar presence of someone behind you.

Heart racing, you looked around for a second, but there was nothing there. It didn't mean the feeling went away, though.

"Monster. Care..." It seemed the audio cut before finishing the whole word.

"Monster... care?" Sam asked, confused.

"Or maybe it meant careful? Like, careful of the monster?" Colby questioned.

"It would make sense. What monster are you talking about? Is it harming you? Are you scared of this monster... or... person?"

It took a while before responding. Last thing it said, before a screech filled the radio was... "Run."

Quickly, they turned it off. They looked at eachother. "That was terrifying." Colby said. Sam nodded and sighed.

"Let's try and look around for some other place. This doesn't feel safe." Sam said and everyone agreed.

For the past hour of recording, moving around and joking here and there, you felt a bit uncomfortable. Usually, you weren't the type to get scared over the paranormal, but this place felt more eerie than usual.

You heartbeat has been increasing slowly, as well as a slight pain in your chest that quickly faded. You felt watched.

There was a point where you even felt slightly touched, quickly warning the boys about it.

Due to this, they almost discarted the idea completely, thinking you might be getting targeted, scared that it might do something to you. It took you a couple of minutes of convincing them to keep on recording before the conversation was dismissed.

You tried to brush it all off, as 'something you've felt before', but deep down you were really anxious about it. Perhaps it made you feel better to think about it being just the nerves.

But you weren't the type of person to feel these nerves for no reason.

"Hey, you good?" Colby touched your shoulder and whispered to you, noticing you seemed a bit weird. "You seem out of it today."

"Yeah, I'm good. I was just zoning out."

"Yeah, I noticed." He chuckled, looking into your eyes. "You sure you're okay though?" He raised an eyebrow, seemingly concerned. "You don't look well."

"What? Do I look like a ghost to you?" You asked, smiling, which quickly made him show that gorgeous smile you loved.

"More like you've seen one." You shook your head.

"I'm fine. I've just seen some shadows running in the corners of my eye, but nothing too big to point out."

He batted his eyes. "You've what?"

"Calm down, you know I see those things all the time. It's nothing new." Half of it was true. The other half, well... there was a chance you might've seen a whole figure standing close to a doorframe, but you felt your imagination was tricking you too much tonight, so you didn't say anything.

You weren't a psychic or a medium or something close to it anyways. If anything, you'd probably consider it more like a hallucination due to the constant lack of sleep you've been having lately.

"I know, I know, but still. You could tell us about it, you know? Maybe we all see the same thing you do and since you don't point it out, we don't notice."

You rolled your eyes playfully. You were about to say something, but a breeze passed through your ear, a soft whisper saying "Come play."

You jumped, covering your ear and walking closer to Colby. "Shit." You whispered.

Confused, he held your shoulders. "What? What? You heard something?" His worry was enough for Sam to stop setting the cameras up and walk closer.

"What happened?" He asked. You looked around where you were standing.

"Did you guys not hear that?" You asked, the shook their heads. "I heard something like... right next to me." When you said that, Sam began recording once again.

"Alright, so... apparently Y/n just heard something right next to her." He began explaining to the camera, pointing it at you.

"It was like a whisper, it.. uh... it just said 'come play', like, the creepiest shit you can say. I even felt the air on my ear, that shit made me jump." You tried laughing about it to not let the mood down, but it wasn't working much.

"Although I really want to, maybe we shouldn't do the challenge." Colby said, looking at Sam straight in the eyes, genuinely worried.

"Guys. Come on. Don't back down when we're this close." You said. "We're basically done for tonight, this is the last thing we're doing and we're out, right?"

"...yeah." Sam whispered. "Let's..." He sighed. "Let's do it. Just like she said, we walk through the corridor and come back straight away."

Althought skeptical, Colby nodded. "Fine. Let's hurry up then. The quicker we begin, the quicker we're leaving this place."

And so, everyone held their cameras and said their goodbyes. The three of you went through your respective corridors and began walking, alone, with no light.

"Alright guys. I'm not good at, like, talking to the camera but I'll try." You sighed, pointing the camera at your face while slowly walking the dark corridor.

"Honestly? I'm usually not as creeped out when we come to places like this, but this one is like... up there. It's giving me the chills, making me paranoid, I feel like I'm... seeing thing. Or maybe I'm just sleep deprived. That's... that's also an option now that I think about it."

Looking around with the camera, although it's absolutely useless, you started feeling out of breath. Almost as if the air didn't reach your lungs anymore. "It feels... hard to breathe." You took a deep inhale and shakily exhaled.

You gulped, your throat suddenly feeling dry as the lack of oxygen was evident.

"I'm just gonna walk... faster. I wanna get this over with..." And so, you did. But the further away you got, the worse it all felt. You felt your vision starting to get blurry although you could barely see anything.

You paused as your vision began to get used to the darkness.

At the end of the corridor, what you could shape out like a human figure was standing there. Seemingly the same one you barely saw before.

This time, it didn't seem to go away.

You were also alone.

Unable to breathe.

You don't know when it started, but you were unable to breathe properly. You choked, trying to regain yourself from the feeling.

Your neck feeling tight, your stomach hurting at the sudden feeling.

Putting your hands on your neck, you coulnd't feel anything that would make you feel this way. You started to get worried.

You felt as if you were being choked. You tried to scream, but all that you could spat out from your lips was a soft, quiet, 'help'.

Trying to turn around and walk back, you saw the figure again and got scared, falling towards the floor. You coughed for air, sucking back as much as you could but being unable to.

Leaving the camera behind, you tried to crawl back to where you came from, but the lack of circulation on your body failed you as you coulnd't handle it anymore.

Your body falling on the floor, the camera seemingly recording your movements come to a halt.

Your eyes closing, leaving you unconscious.

It didn't take long before Sam and Colby got back to the lobby. Waiting for you, something seemed off.

They knew the corridor wasn't as long as theirs. You should've been the first one out by that logic. They've been waiting long enough and they were starting to get worried.

Even though the concept of the challenge was to be alone in the darkness, the idea of you being in trouble was too much to bare.

Heck, even if you were pranking them, the anxiety of you not coming back on time was driving them insane, they were ready for a scare if it had to come to that.

But the scare they were expecting wasn't the one they got.

Minutes of walking and calling out your name came to a stop when they saw you on the floor.

Hurriedly, they ran towards you and fell to the floor, yelling out your name. "This isn't funny, Y/n!" Sam yelled, moving your body, only to notice how cold you felt. His heart sank.

"Y/n, come on!" Colby said, putting himself on the other side, looking at Sam. The color from his face was gone when he felt her body. Colby, worried, touched your body and understood why he looked that way. "Oh, fuck. Fuck!"

Throwing the camera to the side, Colby quickly checked your pulse. "Sam. Call 911. This is serious." You still had a pulse, but you weren't breathing. First thing that came to his mind was CPR.

While Sam began to call, Colby was trying as hard as he could to help out. He began doing mouth to mouth, trying to bring some oxygen back to your lungs.

Tears streaming down both of their faces. Colby started making compressions to your chest, while Sam was talking to the 911 dispatcher and using the flashlight to illuminate Colby.

Luckily, they weren't too late. You began to cough and moved to the side to spit out some saliva. You breathed heavily and both of the guys sighed in relief.

As you tried to catch your breath, they softly held you up in place while your color came back to you. You blinked a couple of times, adjusting your view to your surroundings.

When you looked at them, they hugged you tight. "Fuck..." Sam whispered. "Let's get the fuck out of here right now." He held you softly and helped you out, as Colby grabbed all of the cameras.

It was hard for you to walk. It felt as if a ton of weight was keeping you from even standing up. It felt as if your limbs went numb, the lack of oxygen probably acting up.

Sam noticed, and didn't hesitate on holding you up and putting you on his back so that you could rest. They began walking as fast as they could, reassuring you that you will be fine.

You were focused on getting your breath back while listening to them scream at the spirits.

"You are not allowed to follow us home." Listening to Colby talk like this, while taking all of the equipment made you feel light. You started moving your arms and made sure to hold onto Sam, closing your eyes.

"You'll be okay. We're leaving." Sam reassured you, waiting for Colby to grab everything and get out of there in a rush.

After the police arrived and handed you an oxygen mask, you started feeling much better. You had some marks on your neck, like some hands were just squishing the air out of you.

Your body... at first, you could even see your veins pop out of your legs because of your lack of color. The poor circulation that ran through your body for a couple of minutes really drove your body to its limit somehow.

It took you a while to be able to stand on your two feet again, but before the police left you could walk on your own just fine. Sam and Colby however still managed to help you out.

"Let's head back home." Sam whispered to you. You nodded slightly and tried to walk on your own, only to be held up by Colby.

"Don't force yourself right now. You need some rest." He said, taking you back to the car. Your face having a rush of blood because of the gesture.

"I... I can walk."

"Let us do this. Please. It's too much already that you fainted right when we weren't with you." Sam said, looking at you, your heart racing at the look of his blue eyes upon you. You gulped.

"...f..fine." You said, resting your head on Colby's chest, making him smile.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

part two is up!! the link is in the beginning! <3

thanks for reading all the way! likes, comments and requests are much appreciated.

-nikkõ

[readerthatreadsss]

Worth The Wait | Steven Grant

(Inspired by the song of the same title by Kali Uchis)

Pairing: Steven Grant x fem!reader

Word Count: 6.2k

Summary: You and Steven have been roommates for a while now. But one night after being stood up by yet another guy in a string of dates gone wrong, Steven offers you some support...which sparks an interesting chain of events.

Warnings[18+ activities MDNI]: sub! (ish) Steven, dom! (ish) reader, fools in love, friends/roommates to lovers, mentions of drunk reader (but not drunk when they actually have sex, you'll see), crying (reader's drunk and starts venting for a bit, that's all), unprotected p in v sex (cloak the joker before you poke her), oral sex (steven and r receiving), Steven doubting himself mid-sex, assertive reader and awkward Steven! , choking (r receiving), riding, creampie, barely edited cause I'm really fuckin tired.

A/N: Hi. Don't ask me where I found the time or motivation to write this shit when school started back a month ago. The idea just popped into my head and my fingers didn't stop moving once I opened a draft. Note, I have a tall fem! reader x Steven in my drafts to finish so don't think I forgot!

"Steeeeven," knock knock knock, "STEVENNNN," knock knock knock−

Steven's brows furrowed beneath his reading glasses at the sound of your voice coming from outside your shared apartment door. Concern as well as confusion sprang through him instantly. You sounded drunk. Which he was sure to be the case seeing as you were sloppily knocking at the door rather than opening it with your keys.

He quickly shut the book he was reading and removed his glasses before making his way over to the door in fear that your next call of his name would wake the entire building.

Unfortunately, he opened the door at the very moment you launched your hand forward to knock once more. This caused you to tumble through the door with a drunken yelp. But Steven caught you in his arms before your body could hit the ground.

You looked up at him with a lazy smile and hooded eyes. "Thanks, Stevie bear," you hiccuped, using both hands to cling onto one of his very defined biceps. You had never realized how big and firm they were before that moment.

"You're welcome," Steven replied worriedly. He swiftly shut the door with his foot and used your grip on his arm to bring you standing back on your feet. "Y/n what the bloody hell happened to your date?"

You rolled your eyes at his question, kicking off your heels and making your way over to the couch without somehow falling again. "See now, Steven," you paused and pointed at him drunkenly, "it can't be a date if the said date doesn't even bother to show up!" you explained.

Steven sighed deeply at your explanation as he sat on the other end of the couch. This wasn't the first time this had happened to you—or him for that matter—but he could never understand why. You were easily one of the most beautiful women in London, and definitely one of the smartest, (your framed Ph.D. in psychology hanging over the television was evidence of that). You were the full package and more. Any man would be lucky to have you.

But the men of London were clearly morons if they kept standing you up or acting like complete knobs to you on your dates.

He would never do that to you. But he's seen photos of your past dates. A woman like you was way out of his league and would never go for someone like him, anyone with eyes could see that.

"How much have you had to drink?" Steven suddenly asked you.

You raised 3 fingers to the best of your ability. "Six," you answered before bursting into a fit of giggles at Steven's expression.

"Gosh, y/n, you're absolutely clobbered," he grabbed a blanket from the arm of the couch and spread it over where your short skin-tight dress was riding up your thighs.

"Well I didn't lie," you sat up abruptly, throwing the blanket off your lap and turning to face Steven and sit as crosslegged as your dress would allow, "Three of the drinks were margaritas...the other three were shots of vodka though," you admitted softly as if it were some secret for only yours and Steven's ears.

"Do you have work in the morning?" Steven questioned gently, picking up the blanket and handing it back to you. Your dress was riding up with every slight movement you made, which meant more of your thighs being exposed to him. Despite this, Steven wouldn't dare look anywhere except your eyes.

"Nope." You threw the blanket back on the floor. The night was pretty warm, you don't understand why Steven keeps giving it to you.

"Do you want me to make you some coffee or tea?"

"Yup."

Steven looked at you in question for a few seconds. "Which one?" he prodded, fighting back a smile at your muddled state.

You moved closer and narrowed your eyes, "Which one of what?" you questioned, truly confused, before breaking out into another fit of drunken giggles that caused you to momentarily tumble forward and land your hands on Steven's thighs.

"Coffee it is then," Steven answered for you, his voice traveling up an octave. He then carefully moved your hand from his thighs, trying to ignore the chills your touch sent up his spine, and hightailed it to the kitchen to put on the percolator for you.

You tilted your head as he walked away, noting how quickly he left.

When Steven returned with your cup of coffee (with cream and no sugar just how you liked it), he found you seated in the same spot but with his blanket draped over your head and body while soft sniffles and sobs met his ears.

He placed your cup on the table nearby and carefully approached your figure on the couch. Steven reached for the blanket and slowly removed it from your body.

"Why are you crying, love?" he sweetly asked once your face came into view.

"Because I'm a mess," you sniffled, using a hand to wipe the trail of tears falling from your eyes.

Steven's head tilted in disbelief at your words. "You don't really believe that, do you?"

"Yes I do," you nodded fervently, "It's why my dates have sucked for the past 2 months, it's why I got passed over for that goddamn promotion at work last week, and it's why you can't stand being around me for longer than 3 minutes these days."

Steven was taken aback by your words. You thought he couldn't stand to be around you? That's impossible.

"You practically sprinted to the kitchen!" you added after a few moments of silence.

"To make you coffee," Steven protested, gesturing to the cup lying untouched nearby.

"I saw your face," you looked down at where your hands lay in your lap.

Steven swallowed harshly. "Y/n."

You ignored his call for your attention.

"Look at me," he came closer and entangled his hands with your own in your lap, immediately causing you to look up at him with tear-stained eyes, "You are not a mess," he softly yet sternly said to you.

"Yes I am−"

"No. You are not," he interrupted your arguing, "Your dates? They're all losers for letting you slip through their hands. And if a few bad dates is fate's way of making you wait to find the one, then I think that's well worth the holdup, yeah?"

You chewed on your bottom lip anxiously before nodding in agreement.

"And as for my behavior earlier, it was−" Steven paused with a sigh fumbling for a sensible excuse, "it's your perfume."

You pulled a face that would have made Steven laugh under normal circumstances. "My perfume? You hate my perfume?"

Steven swallowed harshly. He hated lying. He wasn't even good at it. But convincing you that he couldn't bear your perfume was easier than admitting that he just couldn't handle the way your hands felt on his thighs or the way his entire body heated up when you leaned closer to him. "Yup. The smell was too much for me," he fibbed.

You rested your head in your palms, pouting slightly. "But you're the only reason I wear this perfume, Steven," you confessed, barely audible.

Steven's face fell. "What?"

"You told me that you liked it when I moved in and from then I kept buying it just because you liked it."

Steven's heart swelled at your admission. He felt like an asshole. He was no better than the losers you'd been going on dates with.

You continued to speak. You could feel words preparing to leave your lips that have been eating at you for a while, now guided by your lowered inhibitions. "And I didn't only mean just now. These past few weeks you can barely look me in my eyes, or be near me, Steven. What am I doing wrong?" your voice broke with your last words.

Steven had seen you cry a few times before. But this time was different. The look on your face was heart-wrenching. He couldn't believe that he made you feel like this.

Because he was having trouble dealing with his own feelings for you, he made you think he hated you...when it was the complete opposite.

"There's nothing wrong with you. It's all my fault," Steven said, breaking away from your gaze, feeling it pierce through him.

"I'm the one who was dumb enough to fall in love with you..." he added, only to look up and see you passed out against the arm of the couch.

A part of him was saddened that you fell asleep before hearing his confession. But another was grateful and profoundly unprepared for your inevitable rejection.

Steven looked at you for a few more seconds before carefully picking you up—smiling to himself when you curled into his chest—and carrying you to your bedroom.

° ° ° ° ° ° ° °

You woke up in a slight daze...and in someone else's bed.

It took a few glances around the room for you to piece together that you were in Steven's room.

And then all of last night's events came back to mind, seeping in and clearing the fog that your excessive alcohol consumption had sired;

Your failed date. Coming home and falling into Steven's arms. Saying way too much to Steven. Steven's last words before your body shut down.

Steven.

Steven.

Steven.

"Oh God," you mumbled, cradling your face in your hands.

Eventually, you pulled yourself out of the bed and stumbled into the bathroom for a shower. You thanked whatever higher power was at work that Steven was still asleep on the couch when you padded through the living room.

But when you finished showering and exited the bathroom, you were hit with the smell of freshly brewed coffee. You poked your head into the living room to make sure Steven was still in the kitchen before running a path straight to your room and getting dressed.

After throwing on one of your old university crew necks and the first shorts you could get your hands on (which happened to be very short ones), you heard a knock at your door followed by Steven's voice.

"Y/N? I have a cup of green tea and some painkillers here...thought you'd need them."

You found yourself smiling at the sound of his voice, something that was becoming more common in recent weeks. What did you do to deserve a man like Steven in your life?

You quickly moved to open the door and let Steven in. "Hey, Steven," you greeted him with a small smile.

He released a nervous chuckle as he presented a cup and two pills to you. "Good morning."

You took them happily, bringing them to your night table. "I'm not actually feeling very hungover," you said to him, turning to sit on your bed.

"Really? That's surprising...considering last night," Steven replied, taking a hesitant step further into your room.

"Yeah must be my tolerance and all that," you shrugged, taking interest in how Steven had yet to meet your eyes since you opened the door.

A beat of silence passed between you while you took a sip of your tea. "Steven, you can sit," you softly spoke, gesturing to your bed.

"Oh, sure," Steven took a seat at the farthest edge of your bed, maintaining a more than comfortable space between you.

"How'd I end up in your bed this morning?" you suddenly questioned. You were genuinely curious, but the reaction it garnered from Steven was more than worth it.

After a brief clear of his throat, Steven answered, "Well you sorta climbed into my bed in the middle of the night, gave me quite a scare actually, and I wanted to give you space to rest so I let you have my bed and I slept in the couch."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you frowned, a tinge of embarrassment seeping in, "Why didn't you sleep in my bed?"

"Because..." laying in your bed that smells flawlessly like you would've sent him into cardiac arrest- "the couch is more comfortable."

You nodded in understanding, placing your half-empty teacup back on the table.

"If you uh need anything," Steven stood up from your bed, slowly walking backward to the door, "just shout," he said as he turned to open the door.

"Did you mean it?"

Steven halted in place at your words, his back still facing you.

You slid off your bed and approached his oddly still figure.

Steven's throat ran dry. There's no way you could have actually heard him. Right? "What?" is all he managed to say.

You walked past him and used a hand to close the door, coming to stand in front of him. You needed to look at his face. Living with Steven for a year has taught you that he wasn't a man of many words but his face said more than enough when he couldn't. Drunk you couldn't utilize your psych degree the night before, but sober you sure could at that moment.

"Did you mean it?" you repeated, "When you said you fell in love with me?"

Steven's jaw slackened when he met your stare, that feeling of being pierced by your gaze returning. "I-"

Your eyes narrowed as you took a step closer to him, now being close enough for his nervous breaths to fan across your lips. "Because if you meant it then I would tell you that. I think..." you paused and looked away for a moment, "No, I know that I love you too."

Steven's hooded brown eyes widened. He blinked a few times, trying to will himself to wake up if this was a dream.

You bit back a small laugh at his expression before you continued. "I love how willing you were to rent some small-time therapist your extra bedroom because you heard her crying in the corner of a coffee shop that she'd been kicked out by her stupid ex-boyfriend. I love the mugs you buy me every month because you saw them and they reminded you of me. I love how you watch shitty action movies with me after every bad date I have because you want to take my mind off them. I love how much you care about...everything really. I love you, Steven Grant," an enlightened smile rested on your face as you spoke, "and I'm sorry that I spent the past year thinking everything you made me feel was platonic when the truth was that you made me feel things that no one else has. I'm an idiot Steven-"

"No," Steven's first word came, a relieved smile accompanying it, "You are not an idiot. You are the smartest person I've ever met. Smarter than me, that's for sure," at that, you both laughed, "I've spent this whole year thinking that you would never see me as anything more than your weird, boring roommate...and turns out you loved me this whole time," he ended in a soft whisper, shocked by his own conclusion. Steven found his eyes drifting down to your lips and you immediately took note of it.

You exhaled deeply before closing the gap between you and Steven, meeting his lips in a bold kiss.

Initially stunned, Steven sunk into your lips soon after, gently bringing his hands up to rest on the sides of your face.

Your brain fogged as Steven devoured your lips, an unusual confidence taking over him. You wrapped your hands around his neck and smiled into the kiss, allowing Steven to slip his tongue past your lips, tasting more of you and pulling a moan from your chest.

Steven pulled away first, feeling himself enter a state that he wouldn't dare himself to in your presence. You bit back a whine when his lips left yours, looking up at him in confusion.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," he spoke, taking a step away from you.

You licked your lips and stepped towards him. "Steven, trust me, I want to do this. I want to do a lot more than this actually," you pulled his waist flush against your body, drawing a shared moan from you both when his growing bulge pressed against your stomach.

Steven's hands flew up to grab the back of your neck and your jaw. He softly muttered your name, as a warning more than anything else.

You leaned in and pressed a kiss against the corner of his lips. "If you say no, we will stop this right now and go eat breakfast. But if you say yes, we are gonna stay here and I'm gonna let you do very bad things to my body."

Steven swallowed harshly. "God, yes," he replied, failing to swallow back a whimper at the implication of your words.

Your hands squeezed his waist as you moved back to look at his face fully. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear that Stevie," you smirked.

Steven looked down at you with adoration clear in his eyes. He couldn't believe this was really about to happen. He used his hold on your neck to pull your lips crashing into his. This kiss was a lot more hungrier than the first, with Steven now making his intentions much clearer.

"I'll take that as a yes," you grinned between kisses.

Steven groaned his agreement as he continued to kiss you.

You used your grip on his waist to push him back towards your bed, effectively breaking your kiss and causing him to land on the edge of your bed with a grunt.

Steven looked up at you through his lashes in awe as you approached him. He watched keenly as you removed your top, wearing nothing underneath, before moving to straddle his thighs. Steven made a move to touch your chest before stopping his shaky hands midair and looking at you in question.

You gently held Steven's chin up and smiled down at him. "Steven you can touch me," you reassured him. Even in an intimate moment like this, he was ever the gentleman...

Steven indulged with a sheepish smile and brought both his palms to each of your breasts. Unable to help himself, Steven dove in and took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened bud.

"Fuck, Steven," you moaned, eyes slamming shut at how good it felt. Your words only seemed to egg him on further as Steven switched to your other breast, his lips and tongue moving against it with more enthusiasm.

Your hands at the back of his neck grabbed fistfuls of his curls while his ministrations against your chest pulled more moans and whines from your lips.

Some time after, you pulled Steven's lips away from your breasts and met them in a searing kiss, pressing your clothed cunt down against his erection. "Shit," Steven lowly cursed, bringing his hands to your waist to grind you down further against his bulge.

You obliged with a moan, grinding in Steven's lap harder. "Tell me what you want, Steven," you whispered against his lips.

Steven's hands squeezed your waist harshly when your lips began sucking against his throat. He could barely put together thoughts at the moment, much less words.

You trailed a hand down to the waistband of Steven's sweats and slowly reached under it for his cock. You swallowed a moan when your hand traced his full length and girth. "You've been holding out on me Steven," you chuckled against his neck.

Steven blushed furiously at your words. "Thank you?" he responded awkwardly, barely functioning with your hand rubbing along his cock.

You chuckled once again, pulling away from his neck to look at him. "You're so pretty," you said, causing another wave of red to hit Steven's cheeks.

"No one's ever said that to me before," he admitted softly.

"Well that's okay, cause I want to be the only one who makes you blush like this," you grinned brushing a stray curl from his forehead, "I bet your cock is just as pretty," your hand picked up speed beneath Steven's pants, "Can I see it? Please?"

Steven nodded enthusiastically. "Anything you want," he said with a desperation that had your pussy throbbing with need. You briefly lifted your hips allowing Steven to clumsily slide off his sweatpants and boxers and step out of them.

Once you returned to your position on his thighs, you looked down at his cock, the head already dripping with small beads of precum. The length was truly unexpected, as well as the girth. You would do anything to feel him inside you.

But for now, you really wanted to taste him.

Steven watched you sink to your knees before him, your eyes never straying from his.

"Are you sure you want to-"

"Steven you said anything I wanted," you paused, gliding your fingers over his length and watching it twitch in response, "And I really want to taste you. Can I suck your cock, Steven?"

Steven's breathing picked up as he took in the image before him; you on your knees, touching his dick while literally begging to suck it with a look in your eyes he could only compare to the look of a wild female tiger eyeing her freshly caught meal in the nature documentary he watched the week before.

"Please, please do," his response came soon after.

You began with a kiss to the head of his cock that made it immediately jump in your hand. You couldn't help but chuckle, and it was a sound that Steven hoped would be the last thing he heard before he left this earth. "You're so sensitive, Stevie," you cooed before pressing another kiss but to the base of his length.

Steven released a sharp moan at both of your kisses to his cock, finding himself embarrassingly close to cumming already.

"Please," he pleaded your name with a whine, "stop teasing."

You swirled your tongue around the head where precum had gathered, moaning in time with your movements and drawing yet another mewl from Steven. "Oh but Stevie, I just love hearing you say please," you teased him, looking up from where you had a hand wrapped around his base and another briefly caressing his balls.

Steven was now panting, his eyes never leaving you as you held him. He watched you slowly wrap your lips around his tip before slowly sinking down.

After reaching a little more than halfway down Steven's cock, you felt yourself gag but simply stilled instead of removing yourself completely.

"Fucking hell," Steven grunted before melding into a pathetic moan once you held your position. You eventually let up when you almost ran out of air and slowly removed your lips from his dick, your eyes meeting his with tears streaming along your face from the stretch.

You were prepared to do it once again but felt Steven's palm grab your chin before you could. "No, love, please. If you do that again I'm afraid I'm not gonna last."

Steven watched you lick your lips before shifting to trap his thumb in between your lips and softly suck on it. He couldn't stop the whine that slipped his lips at your action.

You eventually released his thumb from the confines of your mouth and came to stand over him with a smile. "Well then. Tell me what you want to do next. I'm all yours, baby, remember?"

Steven brought his hands to rest on your hips and leaned forward to press a soft kiss against your stomach. "I-uhh," his brows furrowed and he shook his head briefly as if sending away a thought.

"What is it, Steven?"

The man beneath you looked up to meet your eager eyes, suddenly confident enough to say what he wanted. "I really...really want to taste you."

You felt your breath hitch at his request. It was rare for a man to enthusiastically offer to go down on you. Though it was clear to you now that Steven was most definitely a rare man.

"You want to?" you felt your voice come out a lot more unsure than usual.

Steven's brows furrowed once again as a fleeting smile graced his lips at your response. "Of course I do, sweetheart. Do men not usually..."

You harshly exhaled. "I mean some do but I usually have to complain first or they do it cause they want me to return the favor," you admitted.

"They don't deserve you. No one does," Steven softly uttered, gazing up at you with eyes you were growing more fond of by the minute.

You quickly leaned down to meet him in a kiss in response. You didn't deserve him either.

Steven pulled you back into his lap and kissed you back eagerly. But he was the first to pull away, causing you to whine in a way that made his cock jump against your cunt. "I-I really did mean it, love, I need to taste you. Now."

You had never seen Steven so demanding. It had you throbbing in anticipation. You allowed him to lay you on your back and peel away your shorts and panties to reveal the part of you where you needed him most.

Steven looked starstruck as he examined your arousal. He moved closer and closer to your pussy, letting his warm breath fan over your glistening lips.

"Steven please-" you begged, though you couldn't finish your thought before your voice broke into a loud moan when Steven licked a stripe from your entrance to your swollen clit.

Steven closed his eyes, relishing his first taste of you. It was everything he'd quite literally dreamed of and more.

And so, he eagerly dived into your core.

Your hands flew to Steven's head working between your legs as your thighs instinctively closed around his head from the sudden wave of pleasure surging through you.

The feeling of your thighs trapping his head against your pussy was absolute bliss to Steven. He moaned into you as his tongue swirled around your clit sloppily. If he was inexperienced, you couldn't tell because every movement of his tongue brought you closer and closer to your release.

The vibrations of Steven's enjoyment drew a brief scream from your chest before you slapped a hand over your lips to silence it.

Steven finally came up for air, his lips and jaws covered in your slick. His curls were strewn along his forehead by a damp layer of sweat as his dilated pupils met your own. "C'mon. I want to hear those pretty noises you make for me, love," he said before running two of his fingers through your folds to gather some of your wetness and slowly inserting them into you.

"Oh my-STEVEN" your back arched up and off your bed as you felt immediately filled up by Steven's digits.

Steven gauged your reactions as he slowly removed his fingers before pushing them again with no resistance due to your arousal. "I've wanted this for so long, love," he began to speak as he slowly leaned down to press his lips against your clit in a kiss, "Wanted to hear you moaning my name," he sped up his fingers' movements inside you, "Wanted to taste you," he added another finger, now touching that spot inside your walls with every thrust, "You're so beautiful," he ended before fully diving back in with his tongue against your bud.

"Yes—fuck—you're so good to me baby," you finally gathered enough breath to speak while gaining a proper grip on his head. With every sharp lick or nip he'd make, you would tighten your grip on his hair and it would only spur him on further. It was only a matter of seconds from there before...

"Shit, I'm gonna cum, Steven," you called out, looking down to meet where he was already staring up at you, and speeding up his fingers and tongue's ministrations against you.

He held your stare once he felt your walls clench around his fingers and heard your moan melt into a scream.

"Fuck, fuck, FUCK," you shouted as your orgasm slammed into you thanks to Steven's eager tongue and fingers.

Steven watched your chest slow its heaving when your climax subsided and removed his fingers but couldn't stop himself from licking the remnants of your release from your folds. It was as if he was trying to work you up to another orgasm.

"Shit Steven wait," you mewled, attempting to close your legs from overstimulation. But Steven used strength you'd never known him to have to shove your legs back open and hold them in place, clearly intent on tasting every bit of what you had to offer.

Your eyes widened. "Holy fuck," you removed both your hands from Steven's head and ran them over your face and boobs. He was driving you absolutely insane. If it weren't for his grip on your legs you would be trembling beneath him.

It wasn't long before a second orgasm crept up on you, one more powerful than the last. Your lips parted in a silent scream as your climax washed over your entire body, from your thighs to your feet, to the base of your fucking spine.

Steven couldn't help but stare as he cleaned you up for the last time with his tongue. He couldn't believe he got to see this. To make you feel like this.

Your high subsided soon after and you released a sharp exhale followed by a laugh of disbelief.

Steven moved from his position on his knees before you to hover above you on your bed. "You okay, love?" he questioned in concern

You responded to his question with a satisfied grin. "I'm great, Stevie," you spoke before meeting his lips in a sweet kiss, "But..."

Steven's face fell at your words. He slowly moved from above you to lay next to you, scared to meet your eyes. "I did something wrong didn't I? Or did I forget to do something? I'm sorry-" he rambled, immediately doubting himself.

But his words died in his throat when you turned and caressed his cheek with a hand, your grin still present on your face. "You did nothing wrong," you insisted, "That was no doubt one of the best orgasms of my entire life."

Steven looked away and laughed at your confession. "You don't have to say that to make me feel better."

"I mean it, Steven," your voice grew stern, "That was fucking incredible."

Steven couldn't even formulate a response.

"What I was going to say was," you broke his silence, "I promised you could do bad things to my body and you haven't done nearly enough for me," you ended with a smirk.

Steven grunted when he felt your fingertips run along his cock.

"Don't you want to fuck me, Steven?" you questioned innocently while completely wrapping your hand around and stroking Steven's dick.

He nodded quickly, his bottom lip held between his teeth as he tried not to react to how soft your hand felt around his painfully hard cock. "I do. So badly, love."

You released him and brought a hand over to grab Steven's neck before using your grip to pull him back to his previous position above you. "Then fuck me, Steven. I need you to fuck me," you whispered.

Steven wasted no time in grabbing his length and lining himself up with your entrance. "Are you sure?" he checked in with you once more.

You jerked your hip in the direction of his cock in an effort to fill yourself up but to no avail. You were so damn desperate you didn't care how you sounded. "Yes Steven, please, I need you to fill me up. Fill me up baby, c'mon," you whined hurriedly.

"Well who am I to deny you of what you want, love?" he replied before slowly guiding himself into you.

He immediately groaned at the feeling of your walls squeezing him. "Heavens, love, you're so—aghh—tight," he grunted.

Your moans were never-ending as he sunk into you inch by inch. The stretch was briefly painful but it hurt so good you didn't care.Steven stopped halfway in and leaned down to press a kiss against your forehead. "You're taking me so well, sweetheart," he praised you.

You bit your lip at his praise. "More, Steven, keep going."

Steven obliged and fully sunk into you with one last push. Your moans mixed in the air at the sudden change. "You feel so good inside me Steven, oh my God-" you cried out.

You nearly choked on air when Steven slowly pulled out of your heat before slamming back into you.

"SHIT," you both cursed together before opening your eyes to look at each other.

"Faster, baby, I can take it I promise," you nodded, bringing your hands up to the sides of Steven's face. You even wrapped your legs around Steven's waist.

Steven took a deep breath before pulling out and rutting into you again, now establishing a pace. Which every thrust inside your cunt, Steven grazed your g-spot, effortlessly. It was as if you were built for his cock.

"Fuckin' love the way you fuck me, Steven," you mumbled as Steven set a brutal pace inside you.

Steven leaned down to press his forehead against yours as he continued to fuck you. Your breathing seemed to sync as he pulled out moan after moan from you.

His hands rested at the sides of your head but you could feel them inching closer to your neck.

Your pussy clenched around him at the thought of him choking you. Steven faltered in his thrusts in response. "Love you're squeezing me so hard I don't think I'm gonna last."

"Do it," you called out, tilting your head toward one of his hands.

"What?"

"I can see you thinking about it. Choke me, baby," your chest heaved as you felt your third orgasm of the night approaching.

Steven hesitated for a second before he stopped his thrusts and brought a shaky hand to wrap around your throat.

"I trust you, Steven," you spoke truthfully, "I want this too," you brought a hand to rest over Steven's briefly in reassurance.

Steven began roughly pounding you again with his hand now squeezing around your neck.

"Fuck yes, holy shit," you breathed out, feeling your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head with the newly added feeling of Steven's large hand wrapped around your throat. making you see stars.

Steven, although shocked by your immediate enjoyment of his secret guilty pleasure, took it as a sign to continue. So he trusted faster but made sure to maintain the same amount of pressure on your neck. He then got the idea to use his free hand to reach down and fiddle with your clit while fucking you.

You were instantly thrown over the edge. You came with as best a scream of Steven's name as you could manage with his hand still choking you. Chills ran down your spine while Steven slowed his thrusts inside you and waited for your orgasm to pass.

Eventually, you felt Steven release your neck and slowly begin to remove his cock from your cunt. You tightened your legs around his waist in protest. "Uh uh, we're not stopping till you come inside me, Steven," you demanded.

Steven loved the way you'd been taking control throughout all of this. He'd do anything you asked without a thought. "That's fine with me love," he nodded with a lopsided grin.

"Good," you deeply inhaled before using your hold on his waist to roll him onto his back, with you now straddling him.

You smiled at his shocked expression, which soon morphed into excitement. "You're bloody amazing," he grinned up at you.

You fought the heat that crawled onto your cheeks at his words and looked away with a smile. "Stop sweet talking me and fuck me, Steven."

He nodded quickly, "Yes ma'am." Steven slipped back into your entrance slowly.

But you grew impatient and fully sat down on his cock, loving how full he made you feel. Steven's cries met your ears soon after.

You grabbed his hands and placed each on one of your breasts before beginning to properly ride him. Steven heeded your directions and pawed at your chest while thrusting up to meet your hips.

His grunts soon became whimpers and whines as you rode him harder and faster, eager to make him cum.

"I'm almost there, love," he cried before sitting up and pulling you into his chest. His hands moved down to grip your waist where he guided you faster along his cock.

"There you go, Steven," you held his face against your own as his pace grew sloppy and his brown eyes slid shut.

"Cum for me, baby," you softly spoke with one last grind of your hips. Steven halted inside you with a broken sob of your name and filled you up with his warm release.

You moaned at the feeling of his spend coating your inner walls and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head. "You did so good Steven."

"I love you," his eyes finally opened while he panted, looking up at you with vulnerable eyes as if scared that you wouldn't feel the same after what you had just done together.

"I love you too," you replied without hesitation. You gently shoved Steven onto his back and followed suit, laying down on his chest as you gently removed his softening cock from inside you. You felt his hands move to wrap around your body soon after, bringing you further into his body.

Steven was the first to speak after some time. "I think you're the best thing that's happened to me in a really long time," he admitted, turning to look at you, not at all phased by the exhaustion in your features.

You leaned up to meet Steven in a heated kiss. He tightened his hold on you and met your lips with equal fervor. You pulled away reluctantly and looked down at his face with furrowed brows as you used a hand to trace his jaw and swollen lips. "Where have you been hiding my entire life, Steven Grant?"

"Haven't been hiding, love. I've just been here waiting for you."

° ° ° ° ° ° ° °

WHEW! This ABSOLUTELY got away from me holy shit. 6k words? yeah, not the plan at all. But hey it's definitely something considering that I haven't been able to sit down and write anything till tonight.

So I really do hope you enjoyed it.

(Lemme go look back through my requests and see what else I can cook up.)

[hellaarknight]

Spacing out

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Genre : fluff. Warnings: swearing

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

"What about this one?"

"What about him?"

"Oh, c'mon Ichigo, I need your honest opinion"

Ichigo rolled his eyes. This all help Y/N choose a guy to date was pissing him off. Orihime had the brilliant idea to help each other date because with all the problems caused by the Soul Society, none of them had a proper dating life. It wasn't a really horrible idea in the end if not for the fact that they started with you. All grouped in Ichigo's room and looking at different photos of guys from highschool, or friends of a friend. Why did he agree to this? He couldn't remember.

"Orihime, that guy is not Y/N's style." Rukia chimed in with a smug smile on her face.

"Oh yeah, and what's her style? Right, Y/N what boys do you like? More handsome or less handsome? Tall or short or...?" Orihime started her list while you were deep in thought.

Ichigo wanted so badly to have a piece of your mind. He noticed you spaced out about ten minutes ago, 'bout the time Orihime scattered the guys photos on the floor.

"I think she likes strong guys, maybe a bit old like Urahara or Ukitake" Yoruichi just wanted to mess with Ichigo, she's seen the way he looked at her, the way she always was his priority in all events and circumstances.

Ichigo choked on his water. "I don't remember inviting you over, Yoruichi". His tone was almost menacing, so she was definitely rilling him up. "I don't need to be invited, as it is about Y/N, our beloved, very, much adored by both Kisuke and Ukitake who entrusted me to protect her. Am I wrong or you also asked me to keep an eye on her?"

"That's just because..." Ichigo mumbled some words, awkwardly scratching his cheek. "Listen, I don't need to explain my reasons to you!"

"Rukia, if I remember correctly, didn't your brother also tell you to take care of her?" Chad asked.

"Now that you mentioned it, him and Renji, both told me to keep an eye on her."

Ichigo put his hands into his hair, pulling at it. Urahara, Ukitake, Renji and now even Byakuya?? How was he supposed to compete with them? Then what about the guy you'll choose to go on a date with? He spared you a glance and somehow you were still blissfully unaware of the commotion going on around yourself. His lips curled into a smile. You didn't seem very interested in all this dating thing and for some reason he felt relieved. He liked you and wanted just the best for you. He... He liked you. It downed on him as he saw you smiling to yourself while looking at the framed picture of your group that he had on his nightstand. He wanted to keep that smile on your lips forever. Ichigo realized that all this was bothering him because of his own feelings. His ears started to become red as he was getting flustered by all the feelings that were pouring out of his heart towards his mind.

"Guys, why don't we ask Y/N about who she would like to go on a date with, hm?" As usual, Ishida was the most rational person in that room. They all turned around to face you, but you were too deep in thought to realize, until Rukya's voice reached you.

"Hmm?" You turn your head towards her.

"I asked you who you'd like to go on a date with?"

"Ichigo, obviously, what a dumb question Rukya."

You answered nonchalantly like it was the most normal thing in the world. Until you came to your senses and started to perceive all eyes in the room fixated on you. Then you remembered where you were and what was the purpose of your reunion. Your eyes met Ichigo's wide eyes and red face while you gasped audibly.

"Fuck, I forgot we're all here!"

[whatthefishh]

I’m so ashamed to be requesting this… but I’ve been looking everywhere for a shower smut with Miguel O’Hara and I feel like I can trust you not to let me down😩😩😭 if you can, ONLY if you can I don’t wanna be a bother.

Hey, no need to be ashamed haha! That’s so sweet of you, thank you for trusting me with this 😉 and I hope this short blurb doesn’t let you down… I wrote this instead of focusing on my assignment lol!

Miguel smut under the cut, 18+ only

Your muscles were aching, the hot water spraying down your back helping to release some of the tension there. You had a long day and couldn’t wait to get home for some down time, and a hot shower was the perfect start to your relaxing evening. You hear the bathroom door open and the blurry large shadow of Miguel in the doorway. You know it’s him just by his sheer size, nobody else you knew took up that much space.

“Mig, can you grab me a towel? I forgot!” You shout, turning to rinse the shampoo out of your hair.

“You always forget,” he grumbles lowly, thinking you can’t hear him but he’s closer now.

“Yeah, I know I know, can you just get me— no, no! You can’t just—!”

It was too late. Miguel had stripped his clothes in record time — or maybe he walked into the bathroom already naked — and joined you in the shower, his height effectively blocking the water from spraying on you as his broad frame took up most of the shower space.

“You got me all wet, nena,” he says looking down at you, slowly backing you against the tile wall behind you.

“I didn’t tell you to come inside…”

He sniffs out a laugh.

“Actually—“

“Shut up. Just shut up.”

Reaching a hand up to pull him by the neck down, down, down to meet your lips, your tongues collide hotly under the spray of hot water. Pretty soon, you’re a moaning mess under his skillful tongue and roaming hands, lost in the sensation of your lover’s touch.

Miguel lifts you against the tiles and you gasp into his mouth at the cool wall against your back while he groans at the feeling of his hard cock bobbing against your core. He’s rubbing himself against you, effectively making you drip for him while the water ran down his back.

Both of you were wet now.

Removing himself from your lips for a moment, he rests his forehead against yours to look into your eyes and smile, a rare one, a real one. You don’t see this one often.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Tan buena que eres conmigo,” Mig tells you quietly before lining up his fat tip with your entrance and slowly pushing forward, kissing you again when you start moaning at the intrusion.

It’s always a stretch, no matter how much he tries to prep you. Inch by thick inch, he bullies his way into your cunt, massaging your breasts and mouthing at them to distract you. The sound when his lips wrap around your slippery skin is sinful, popping off your peaks with a satisfied hum while your chest heaves from everything you’re feeling.

He’s everywhere, around you and inside you all at once. It’s overwhelming in the best way possible.

Once he bottoms out, he waits for your go ahead, a small nod while you rest your head against the cool tiles has him starting to pull out nefariously slow, intent on making you loose and pliant by the end of the session. Bucking his hips, he fills you again and again, pressing your body into the shower wall and grunting on every pass.

The water was already hot and the way he’s fucking you has you burning up, the coil tightening in your belly so much that you’re about to pass out. He notices your breath coming out shallower.

“Needed me to loosen you up, isn’t that right nena? Uh huh?”

You’re whining incoherently, eyes shut against the tiles as he plows into your pussy. You try to answer him but all that comes out are pathetic noises that you know only feed his ego.

“What was that, baby? You’re close, aren’t you, can feel you— ahhhhh!” He groans out loud when you finally gush around his girth, body shuddering in his arms.

Completely reliant on his strength to hold you up — the way you’re impaled on him also helping — you let go. Utterly and entirely, you let yourself go in his arms, trusting him to take care of you.

Gripping your ass as he holds you up, Miguel continues to fuck into your fluttering hole, bucking his hips untimely as he nears his own end after feeling yours. His growls and grunts are bordering on animalistic, the smooth golden planes of his body catching your eyes as you ride out his assault on your pussy. The way his biceps ripple when he flexes his hands holding you up, the way the vein in his neck throbs when he’s breathing heavily, the way his abs flutter when he’s close to cumming —

He’s absolutely stunning, and he’s all yours.

And he’s making you his, coming inside you and pressing his hips into yours, after essentially drilling you into the shower wall, he holds you there while groaning through his release.

The stress you were carrying was all gone, replaced with everything Miguel. You couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your evening with him.

S/o to my translator — @xbellaxcarolinax ❤️

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Gonna hold you

Gonna kiss you in my arms

Gonna take you away from harm

a/n: So first and foremost, this is an early birthday present to my one and only true mate @brekkershadowsinger. You're an absolute love of my life and I'll never get tired of telling you that! Second of all, be gentle with me I haven't written for Az in a hot minute. 🤍

request: Since your requests are open could I ask for a Azriel x reader scenario? One where they are pinning for each other but someone obssesed with reader seduces/controls her with a enchantment or a spell and suceeds at some point, but our batboy realizes and comes to save her and that's when the bond snaps.

warnings: capture, kidnapping, murder... yeah

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"You're so smitten", Cassian says, trying to catch up with Azriel, who strides past the streets of Velaris. "No, I am not", the male grumbles back, picking up his pace. The two batboys were making their way to the little bakery that had opened not long ago. Well, it wasn't the bakery itself that was the reason for the trip, even if the baked goods there were to die for. It was you and you alone who had Azriel go there every free moment that he had.

"No, but you so are", Cassian said once again, since Azriel slowed down slightly while his thought lingered. "I swear if you don't shut up…", "You will stab me, burry me where no one could find me…", Cassian bent finger after finger as he named all the threats Azriel had made in the past two weeks since you had walked into his life. "But, dear friend, I'm mated to Nesta, so be wary of that", Azriel rolled his eyes at that threat. "As if she doesn't want to leave you in the ditch herself most of the time". To that, Cassian let out a loud gasp, "You take that back", but Azriel didn't even bother as he stepped into the little building, bending slightly since the doors were rather low for his tall frame.

This place used to be an ancient supply store before the war, but the owner never returned. Rhys had worked night and day trying to provide for families, hold their broken lives in his hands, and help them build them right back up. But the town shifted. There were many more new faces. Quite a handful of refugees from different courts have traveled here, full of hope and dreams, and Rhys has welcomed them all. Among that mass was you.

And mother struck Azriel dead, but he had never seen anyone else that was even close to what you were. He doubted that you had any magical powers. But in his eyes, you were the goddess of beauty herself. Someone who felt like a home at first glance. Someone who made it feel right. Who finally made Azriel slow down. Who got him so lost in his own mind that Azriel forgot about the steps in training.

The spymaster caught you refilling some couple's cups with a bright smile, and it was as if the room was glowing alongside you. You lifted your head, probably weary of the eyes watching you, and your face lit up once more. With the last goodbyes, you moved to walk closer to Azriel. Who looked way too big for this tiny place with his broad shoulders.

"Amazing, you're here. I thought I'd have to sit next to this sulking ass all morning", Cassian said, beating you to your first hello and leaving you quietly taken back by his words. Azriel threw him a deathly glare before yanking his man bun backward, causing the soldier to stagger back. "Don't pay him any attention; hit his head during training", Azriel's grip didn't loosen, and you couldn't help but frown slightly. "Ice?", the shadow singer hummed. "If it's not too much trouble, and two cups of tea while you're at it". You nod quickly before rushing towards the back room. "If you'll open your mouth one more time", Azriel glared at Cassian, who looked more like a toddler who just got a proper scolding from his mother than a scary Illyrian, "I'll sit still and look pretty, soldiers promise".

Azriel wasn't sure why he took Cassian with him in the first place, but he just had to. A part of him was scared. He got nervous around you. It was like all of his systems would overheat, and he would start ranting the most stupid nonsense, looking like an absolute loser. And well, no one besides Cassian knew about the feelings blossoming in the spymaster's heart. He was the one to point out that Azriel had fallen for you. The one who encouraged his brother to go offer you help with getting the bakery ready. The one who told him how to compliment you from time to time, even if it came out slightly weird at times. Azriel had never truly taken a liking to someone to this extent. So he needed backup, and well, Cassian was the best he got.

"You sure you don't need to see a healer?", Azriel snapped his gaze up, watching as you carefully pressed the pack of ice to Cassian's head. "I'm a worrier, lady; I've seen worse", Cassian's fingers brushed yours as he took the pack from your delicate fingers. A part of Azriel grew jealous. He wouldn't call himself territorial, and well, you weren't his, but still, it just didn't sit well with him. "And I made you tea how you like it", Pushing the cup towards the shadow singer, you smiled lightly. "Dash of milk and some honey", "Thank you, Y/N.", Azriel gave you a tight smile. Cassian nudged him under the table slightly, but it didn't seem to change much.

Your eyes scanned the bakery; considering that it was still pretty early, you didn't have too many customers to tend to, so you pulled the chair for yourself, wanting nothing more but to stay in the Illyrian presence for as long as possible. "The paint for the walls came", you muttered quietly, "I didn't open all the cans but had to peek to see the color", a light giggle escaped your lips, and Azriel wished he could hear that sound forever. "Do you have someone to help you?", Azriel never really liked that his voice sounded so harsh compared to yours, but he just didn't know how to make it sound more gentle. You shook your head. "Brian still can't move his arm; the healer said it has to stay wrapped for at least a couple more weeks". Brian was an older male who came along with you. You had told Azriel that he was the closest thing to family you had ever had, and so Azriel grew to respect the man who had given up a lot just so he could provide for you.

"I can come by and help; the next couple of evenings are free for me", Azriel said, but you shook your head, "I can't ask the spymaster of the night court to help me paint the walls". It was nice for him to offer, but this was too much. They had all done way too much already. "Don't worry, Azriel over here is capable of many things", Cassian said, clapping his brother on the shoulder, "Getting dirty just happens to be one of them", and Cassian was surprised that his head didn't meet the tabletop after those words.

Azriel did return to the bakery that same evening. The place was much more lively. All the tables were occupied, and you were twirling around them like a little bee, buzzing away with a never-ending smile on your face. Your light was the first thing that made you way out of his league. Everything you were, Azriel wasn't, and all he could think of was how he would stain you with his darkness.

"We don't have free tables, but I can make you a spot by the counter if you want?", Azriel jumped slightly at the sound of your voice. Mother, he needed to stop daydreaming around you so much. It was not good for his image, yet he just can't seem to keep his head in check. If beforehand all he could think about was work and the past, now it was all occupied by you.

"I can always just stay here", Azriel blurted out, gesturing to the side of the street, making your eyes grow big. "And eat on the ground, no way". Your much smaller hand grabbed his palm. And Azriel wanted to pull away, not wanting you to feel the scars that covered his skin, but your soft skin only presses against his palm firmly as you dragged him through the filled room.

Only when you two stepped into the little side room did Azriel speak up again, "I came to help with the paint". Another bland response; he generally needed to start working on that, but then you didn't seem to mind it. But what if you did? What if that ended up being the reason why you would potentially reject him? Not that you would ever want to do anything with him anyway.

"Az no..", his name rolling from your lips sounded sweeter than honey, and Azriel had to hold himself back from asking you to say it once again. "I'll work on some paperwork till you close, then we'll start painting", The spymaster shrugged his shoulders, summoning one of his shadows and pointing to the pile of papers the little dark creature barely managed to hold up. You gave him a look. One of those looks that Azriel hadn't yet learned to read.

"You know you won't reach the top of the wall anyway", the spymaster tried to reason, but you only crossed your arms over your chest. "I can get a ladder", you shrugged, "And fall over potentially, no", Azriel's voice sounded way higher. And now all he could see was you laying there unconscious. You said nothing for a bit, then leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Azriel's cheek. Some of his shadows started to twirl around him, causing the crimson blush on your cheeks to darken even more. You two lingered in silence tomorrow until you ran your hands over your apron and quietly slipped through the door back to the main part of the bakery. Azriel lifted his hand to his cheek, rubbing his fingers over the spot where your lips had been a moment ago.

"Can we paint shapes and then paint over them?", you giggled to yourself softly, a brush in your hand as you looked back at Azriel, who stood not far away from you, the sleeves of his shirt rolling up his arms, making his mucky arms seem even thicker. "Sure, do it if you feel like it", Azriel had watched you almost all night, and how could he not when you came to drag him out of the side room. Everyone was gone. You had pushed a couple of tables together, lit some candles, and had a warm meal steaming in the middle of the table. To say that Azriel's heart had nearly burst would have been an understatement. You had refused to tell him where the paint cans were until he had a proper meal because you had a feeling that he hadn't eaten much today.

"Do you paint?", you asked suddenly, finishing the outline of the flower that you had chosen to paint on the wall. "No, Fayre is the painter in the family", but that was only partly true. Feyre was the one who everyone knew for a fact painted in the family. So did Azriel; he just chose to do it in the comfort of his room. And for a while now, all he could draw and sketch was you. Was it in some way creepy? Yes, and that was the reason why no one would ever see it. But a part of Azriel feared that with time the memories of you might fade, so he wanted to capture and keep at least a couple of them.

"I heard that the high lady is a true beauty as well", you said with a dreamy sigh. Not even half as beautiful as you, Azriel wanted to say, yet he didn't. "Is it strange now that the city has been fed with newcomers?", You had dropped the brush back into the can by then, turning to watch Azriel's face. "More work on the safety part, but other than that, I don't care for it much", The hurt that suddenly shimmered in your eyes made Azriel want to add that you and Brian were by no means a part of the trouble. Or that he did care because that wave of refugees had brought you into his life, but those words seemed too big. Too close to the shadow singer's heart, so he choked them out.

"I guess everyone adapts differently", your eyes fell on the big bakery window, and for a moment, the room fell silent. Azriel found himself asking, "What do you mean?", when a stranger sensation started to twist his guts. "Oh, nothing too serious", you waved your head carelessly, "There's just this male. He comes by, stares through the window, and murmurs stuff ". Azriel's eyebrows knitted together in an instant. The worrier inside him woke up immediately. Red flags and warning signals rang in his ears. You must have sensed the tension and the shift in soft energy.

"Brian ushered him away a couple of times", you tried to reassure the spymaster. Brushing your fingers over one of the shadows that had started to swirl around the room. "I'll look into him", Azriel said firmly. "That is unnecessary", you followed suit straight away, but it seemed as if Azriel didn't hear you. "Maybe get one of the males I trust to stay nearby". You pulled at his hand softly. Letting your fingers tangle with him as you squeezed his hand, you said, "That is even more unnecessary".

Azrie wanted to argue, but then you were so close to him. He could feel your heartbeat. He could feel your body's warmth. He could smell you. He could touch you. And he did softly brush a strand of hair away from your face. "I'm sure the man just suffered a serious trauma during the war. We all deserve to have some peace, and if watching through the bakery window gives him that, let it be", you broke the silence once more before leaning in to press a kiss to Azriel's chest.

Just Azriel couldn't let it be. Especially when Rhys and the work on his hands kept him away from the bakery for the next couple of days. He felt restless. Even on the first night after not seeing you, Azriel was ready to just fly to you. Even if it was just so he could listen to your heartbeat for a moment.

And his concerns only grow when he and Cassian eventually made their way to the bakery. Brian was pacing in front of the building, the cane he uses to get around wobbling in his hands. "Sir", Azriel called out carefully, not wanting to startle the old man even more. And the way Brian's face both lit up at the sight of the spymaster and fell at the same time made Azriel think of the worst possible scenarios. "She's gone", Brian reached the bandaged hand towards Azriel, shaking as a leaf in the midnight air. "What do you mean gone?", Azriel tried to stay professional, to not let the words spoken affect him—not yet, not now; he needed a clear mind. "She.. she just", Brian's legs bucked, but Azriel quickly steadied him, throwing a glance at his brother who stood nearby, "Cassian, grab a glass of water".

Walking the male to the nearest chair to sit down, Azriel allowed him a moment to breathe. But he can see the need in Brian's eyes as he spoke up again< "She wasn't like herself. Her eyes… they looked dead". At this point, Azriel felt the fear start to choke him slowly. Let its nails dig into his throat and squeeze as hard as possible.

"Then that man came, and she just walked out with him", Brian gestured to the window, and Azriel instantly knew that he had made the biggest mistake when he agreed to drop this. Everyone deals with their trauma differently. How does this man do, then? By stealing young, innocent females?

"What man?", Cassian asked, and the question was needed. In place. And required when they dealt with trouble in the city. Just Azriel didn't count this as yet another mission in the city. His mind was working so fast that he gently started to feel like he was seeing sounds and hearing colors. "Azriel…", Brian called out for the spymaster, and he instantly drew his eyes back to the man, who had reached out to him once again. "She's been so happy with you the past couple of weeks, and it looked like she had no recollection of that when she left". Azriel didn't let the words set it. Happier. Happier because of you. Happier because she found something in you. Happier for the first time in a long while. Happier, just like you deserved to be, but where are you now? Where was he supposed to find you?

"We're going to the house of wind", Azriel said firmly as he stood up. "Rhys will look into your mind. I need to see the man's face. I need to know what to look for. Need to…", Cassian clasped Azriel's shoulder and said, "Start by taking a breath in", The general of bloodshed could practically feel Azriel's heart trying to beat out of his chest, "We'll find her; we won't stop until she's back home".

They are not wrong when they say that the unknown is what you fear most in life. You can handle things going bad; you can even prepare for and predict some of them, but it's when the situation is laced with uncertainty that it hits you, crippling you to your core. Azriel felt like he had lost a part of himself. As if one of his limbs had been cut off and he just now realized the necessity of it. Walking aimlessly, thinking thoughts that lead nowhere. He had everything. Everything that he didn't even know he had was gone. He hadn't even stopped to acknowledge it. Azriel's shadows had been twirling all over Velaris, but in a couple of hours, they had led him nowhere near you.

That was until such a strong sensation hit him. Like banging from behind closed doors. Something was reaching and clawing to get his attention. Azriel gripped his chest abruptly. The voices in the room died down. Turning into unidentified muffles. Where are you, Azriel ran that question through his mind once more. Where are you, my little light? The pain ripped through him once more, and the spymaster let out a quiet growl.

"I say we move the search out of the city", Rhys said, pointing to the areas he would suggest checking first on the map. "The mountains", Cassian also added. But Azriel shook his head, "No", the two bat boys exchanged glances, "Azriel", "I said no". Cassian wanted to speak, but Rhys shook his head quickly before saying, "We just want to…", "I can fucking feel her. I feel her here. She's here", Azriel roared as he quickly stood up.

Rhys read the situation fast, a knowing gleam flickering in his eyes. He too had been in a situation where the world was working against him and the love of his life, and now, with Azriel standing in front of him panting like a hurt animal, Rhys knew the truth and knew where this was leading, "Say a word, and we will go where you feel that she is kept".

The place was nothing more than a cave, a cave covered and drenched in dark magic enchantments. Tucked away on the north side of Velaris. Easy to miss because nothing hid you away more than the darkness itself. In the darkness, you could easily blend into absolute nothingness. You were there with your dress ripped to bits, twirling like a spring flower; just your face looked dead. No emotions. Eyes unseeing. The male motioned for you to step forward. And you did—no fighting, no pleading. Fully in control. The necklace gleamed in the firelight. The voices inside Azriel's head roared. That must be the main source of this insanity, then.

It took all of Azriel's self-control not to just march in there right then and there. He didn't want to wait for everyone to get into their position. This meant that he had to watch you being toyed with for one more minute, and it was already one minute too long. His hands gripped both of the daggers that he was holding. He thought of all the ways he knew how to end a life. All the ways he could drag out a death. Everyone deals with trauma in their own way. Your voice echoed in Azriel's mind once more. Well, this was how Azriel dealt with his.

When they finally struck, they quickly realized that the place was filled with at least a handful of other girls, all drained to the point of barely standing. Whatever had been happening here had been overseen, and for that, Azriel was ready to take the blame because this should have never been a thing in the first place. It was Azriel who pierced the male straight through the heart, letting Rhys devour the rest with his dark magic, crushing whatever remained of it around the cave. The moment the enchantments vanished, the place was filled with females gasping and crying. Please, confusion. Azriel noticed Cassian softly talking to some of the women. We're here to help, not to harm. Even if it seemed far too late.

Azriel's eyes fell on your shaky frame. The tugging in his chest continued with every step that he took closer to you. Your body flinched right as the spymaster kneeled in front of you, but the moment your eyes met his, you leaped forward, burying yourself in his strong chest. Azriel wrapped his arms around your middle without a second thought.

"I got you; you're safe; you're all okay", he whispered over and over, fingers brushing through your hair gently. "Az", you muttered almost in disbelief still, holding onto the spymaster as if your life depended on it, and in a way it did. "Yeah, my love, it's me", pulling away slightly, Azriel cupped your face, wanting nothing more than to bring back that happy gleam to your eyes once more.

"Az", you murmured once more, now watching him, memorizing him, and remembering him. "No one will ever harm you", Azriel stated firmly. He wouldn't allow it. Never again. You were his to look after now. You shook your head in disbelief, your delicate fingers brushing over the spymaster's sharp jaw. "It's you", your voice was nothing but a whisper, and Azriel couldn't help but smile as he turned his head to the side to kiss your palm, "It's me", he said.

"My…", but your breathing hitched as your head lulled back. Azriel was quick to steady your neck, but it didn't stop the panic from spiraling. You can't die. You couldn't have just died. His eyes darted to Rhys, who slowly approached you two and said, "Let's bring her back home, hun?".

Watching you sleep—at least that's what Madje said—was torture. Azriel was glad that your body was doing everything in its power to wear off the stress as quickly as possible, but he had to hear you tell him that you were okay. That you weren't hurt. That nothing happened there because he would bring back that fucker once again just so he could skin him again.

Your body stirred slightly, and Azriel held his breath. The flicker of the bond between you grew brighter. It fully snapped into place for Azriel when he stepped out of the cave with your unconscious body in his arms. He couldn't help but wonder what the last thing you wanted to say was. My what? Love? Savor? Mate? He would take any of those; he just needed to see your eyes once more.

With a couple of slow blinks, your eyes shot open, your breath picking up as the unfamiliar room filled your senses. He did not bring you back home, he wanted to be with you until you woke up, so his room felt like the most comfortable place at the time. "It's okay; you're in my room; you're safe now", he said softly, reaching out for your hand. Your gaze fell onto him once more, eyes filling up with tears.

"Come here", Azriel muttered. Sitting closer to you, he brought you into his arms, mindful of the weight of his wings pressing against your legs. Your arms sneaked around his neck as you held him close. Azriel sent nothing but love and light through the bond in hopes of soothing you even more, and he was more than surprised when he felt the same love coming back from your side.

The shadow singer pulled away slightly; he hated seeing your tear-stained eyes. "You…", he started, and you nodded your head. Knowing without words what he was about to say. Mates. As odd and unexpected as it was, you two were chosen for each other. A light smile painted your lips as you pressed your forehead against his. Azriel breathed you in. Finally allowing himself to let go of the tension. Finally letting himself believe that you were safe.

"Could I", you started, crimson tinting your still pale cheeks, "Could I kiss you?" The question was nothing but innocent. Yet carried by nothing but a desire to feel whole. To find that extra strength in having someone you could fully lean onto. Azriel brushed some of your hair from your face, his fingers caressing your cheek, "You don't have to ask because I would love nothing more".

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All acotar writing taglist: @brekkershadowsinger @cityofidek @baebeepeach @lucyysthings @hideings @urfavbrunettebish @historygeekqueen @marina468 @courtofjurdan

[lovelettersforthedamned]

hi hi hi hi i saw this post and i wanna see your take on it (with peter ofc like hurt/comfort) (https://www.tumblr.com/moonstruckme/730170525023862784/okay-hey-me-again-was-hoping-to-send-a-request?source=share) something similar happened to me a couple of weeks ago too.

So a couple of weeks ago i was planning like this whole big get together and was texting everyone and planning food, decorations and everything and the day of most people either canceled or just literally didnt show up and i didnt even get a text or anything, and i literally spent hours planning, like i went to TJMaxx, Marshalls and stuff like that to find cute decorations and everything, like i spent all of my own money on this. Since no one came i literally sat in my house all dolled up eating everything and watch tv cuz i was upset. THEN around like 11 at night i was on instagram (and im guessing one of them forgot to take me off their close friends) and i saw a story of basically everyone i invited to my party go to another persons party or something i wasnt invited to ig and none of them told me. Like if im being honest, if they couldnt come cuz of some other event i would have moved the date even tho i picked it first. but like, its so shitty cuz they are like my main friend group and its hard for me to mingle with people in general. I have been texting like dry responses and the group chat has been empty since and i have no idea what to do. - 🎀

That’s What Peter’s For

✮ tasm!peter parker x f!reader

✮ word count: 0.8k

✮ warnings: one forehead kiss, hurt/comfort, mentions of food, angst.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

main masterlist ⋆ peter parker masterlist

✮ gif by @spidey-stark

The TV in front of you flickered from frame to frame, each pixel reflecting a bright and blinding light into your dark living room. It’s late as you sit alone on the couch, eating the food you prepared for your friends going to waste due to your overplanning. Or maybe because they didn’t bother to show up. 

As you mindlessly shovel food into your mouth, you think back on your trips to pick out decorations for this night. You went with Peter, and you spent too much, but you didn’t care. You wanted your friends to gawk at the effort you put in, you just wanted them to care. 

When you were picking out an outfit for tonight, you tried on each variation, but to no avail, you weren’t satisfied. The bedroom looked like a warzone. Shirts and pants scattered along the floor, leaving little to no walking room. You couldn’t help but look forward to seeing everyone, the thought making you anxious for everyone to arrive. 

Peter was out for the night doing his nightly activities, when the clock struck eight, signaling that your friends should be here at any moment. You were still perfecting some of the drinks when you checked the clock again, eight forty-five. Your eyes furrowed in confusion as you walked over to your phone to double-check the time and also look for any ‘running late, sorry’ messages. And to your surprise, the time was correct, and no one had texted you. 

Taking a seat on the couch, you looked for the digital invite you’d sent everyone to double-check check you got the date right. Maybe I’m the wrong one? Once you found it, you took a deep breath. The date is right. 

You tried to find answers as you scrolled through social media. One of the people invited to your party posted a video of themselves dancing in a dimly lit club, the camera panned over to the rest of the group. You can feel your heart sink into your stomach as you realize that everyone you’ve invited was in that video posted five minutes ago. 

Now it’s almost midnight, and you haven’t moved besides turning on the TV and reaching for the snacks on your coffee table. Thick tears roll down your face, taking your makeup with you. You texted one of them a few hours ago, simply asking when they would arrive at your place. And of course, you didn’t receive a response. 

Too in your mind, you don’t even hear the front door open, revealing Peter quickly shoving his suit in his backpack. He was assuming that there would be other people filling in his apartment, causing him to change in the alley and rush up to meet you. A smile is on his face until he’s met with the sound of silence along with the muffled noise from whatever you are watching. 

Then his eyes land on you. Walking over he can’t see your tear-stained cheeks yet as he asks, “Where is everyone, bug?” You sniffle, before turning your head to look at him, instantly breaking down in tears. “Woah,” he instantly sits next to you on the couch, pulling you in for a hug, “tell me what happened.” His tone suddenly turns stern, as he worries.

You look up at him, your skin smudged with a thick smear of black from the mascara you delicately applied just hours before. “Th–They…never showed up,” you take a shaky breath, “everyone ditched me for something else, Pete. And n–no one told me.” 

Peter’s worry turned into anger. He was there for you through all of the planning, all of the grocery trips, and all of the outfit changes, and none of them cared to show. He knew that you needed him in this moment. You needed a warm embrace to pour your heart out. And that you did.

You sat and cried with Peter until you fell asleep, exhaustion taking over your body. When Peter felt your breathing even out beside him, he turned off the TV and carried you to your shared bedroom. Placing you down on the mattress, he walked back into the kitchen, quietly packing everything up, and cleaning the space. The last thing you needed to see tomorrow morning was the events of tonight. 

You didn’t stir until you felt a cold cloth on your face, softly wiping at your skin. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m just taking your makeup off,” he hushes, placing a delicate kiss on your forehead. You relax under him. The feeling of someone looking after you makes you melt further into the mattress. 

With Peter everything was alright, and you knew that he would be right at your side through all of it. That includes texting your friends a lengthy paragraph about the value of friendship. 

✮ author's note: oh 🎀 anon, im so sorry you had to deal with this. i've been through something like this a few years back, and it is such a shitty feeling. you don't deserve friends that will push you aside for something they think is better. friendships do not work like that. they should have communicated with you about not making it, but the fact that they just ghosted you completely and tried to cover it up??? shady as hell. i'm always here to listen!!

don't forget to like, comment, and reblog to support this if you liked it!! my asks/inbox is open, so send in requests if you'd like. ok, ily bye<333

[my-writings-and-musings]

hello! i loved the recent earthspark bee story so much, can i request something similar but with earthspark megatron? anything involving robot babies works honestly, such a cute concept

(i apologize if this is too vague, thank you regardless!)

I was totally hoping to get asks for more yes EXCELLENT I have been so utterly swamped I needed something self indulgent to keep my writing going!

Here's the original with Bee for those curious!!

Please enjoy some Megatron being a brand new dad and having some feelings about it.

"Shouldn't you be getting something for yourself?"

Megatron was stopped in his tracks by the almost startling sound of another's voice, having been in such a fog he'd walked right by Optimus and hadn't even realized it. Turning to find his old friend standing beside the base of the Dugout stairs, he noticed a cube of energon in his outstretched servo, and though he couldn't deny being a tad bit hungry he didn't feel ready to take the time to refuel. 

"Later, perhaps." he declined politely, looking down at the human sized tray of food cupped in his palm. Between his massive size and the elaborate spread of steaming food across the tiny surface, he didn't dare make any sudden movements, lest his mate be left without nourishment even a minute longer than necessary. With all you'd been through, he didn't feel right delaying as long as he already had. Ignoring his desire for the cube, he turned to head off for the medical bay. "Y/N needs food far more than I do."

"Is there some kind of rule that new creators can't eat at the same time?" Optimus replied with a touch of playful sass as he walked in step with his friend. Megatron would have rolled his optics at the quip and shot one back, but with his lack of fuel and sleep combined with the jubilant celebration of the past few hours, he couldn't manage anything more than an amused sigh. There was simply too much to celebrate to bother being cross, no matter how hungry or exhausted he may have become with the increasingly late hour. Optimus followed him to the medical bay, stepping as quietly as their massive frames allowed so as not to wake the Terrans sleeping in their respective rooms.

"You need to take care of yourself if you want to take care of others, old friend." the Prime advised as they left the main area, smiling all the while. Megatron sighed again, this time because he couldn't think of a rebuttal to the wisdom his friend had to offer. 

"Fair enough..." he sighed as he secured the tray in one servo and used the other to take the cube. He'd thank his friend in time, but for now there was just too much to be done, enough that he completely forgot he'd need a second limb to open the door until he realized both were now occupied.

Thankfully Optimus showed him mercy, helpfully stepping in to enter the code and command the doors to open. "Here, allow me to get the door." he offered before doing so and stepping aside. Megatron smiled himself at the gesture, grateful to have such reliable friends when he needed them most. Nodding in acknowledgement, he entered the medical bay and allowed his optics to adjust to the dimmer light as the doors sealed shut behind him, finding that little had changed in his brief absence. You were still comfortably seated on the nest of blankets he'd arranged on the padded berth in the corner of the room, your tiny form looking exhausted but not quite ready to sleep as you raised your head in response to his entrance. He caught a hint of a smile through the darkness.

"Are they sleeping?" he asked quietly as he approached, unable to completely subdue the sounds of his footsteps despite all of his efforts. 

"Sort of, he keeps slipping in and out of consciousness." you answered as you adjusted the swaddled bitlet in your arms, earning a tiny coo in the process. Megatron swiftly deposited his cube on a nearby table when you weren't looking, intending to eat later but wanting his full attention on you for the moment. Granted, his attention hadn't really left you at all in the past few hours, but that seemed fitting for a new sire performing his many duties. You caught the tray in his servo when he came to the edge of the bed, and perked up at the smell of something delicious. "Is that for me?"

"Alex insisted on preparing something fresh once I mentioned you were hungry. I'm not sure what he made, but I believe it's to your specifications." Megatron explained, trying not to chuckle at how Dorothy's husband had jumped into action the second he'd requested nourishment on your behalf. It had taken some time to prepare, but he'd trusted the Maltos to have a much better idea of what a human needed to recover from labor, even if he'd assured them you'd only asked for a snack so no one had to trouble themself. Alex hadn't even been bothered by the fact that it was the dead of night, and judging by your reaction, his cooking skills hadn't been at all diminished by a lack of sleep.

"Oh wow, he really went all out." you marveled as you beheld the impressive spread, uncertain how you'd finish it all. The sparkling in your arms reacted to the scent of food with a sleepy but curious trill, scarlet optics cracking open as he yawned and nommed on the edge of his blankets without a care in the world. Hunger and affection stirred within your stomach and heart, leaving you briefly unsure of how to proceed.

"I can bring over the bassinet, to free up your hands." Megatron offered quickly, setting the tray down a short distance from you before he turned to search for the human sized infant carrier that Dorothy had gifted the both of you. Before he could spot it amongst the piles of supplies, you shifted in your nest and spoke up to get his attention.

"Actually, do you want to hold him?"

The question, innocent as it may have been, dropped an icy chunk of fear into his stomach. Words briefly failed him as he got a hold of himself before turning around. 

"Should I?" he asked with open hesitation, looking to the sparkling and feeling a fresh burst of terror at the prospect. Though he'd been there when your little one was born, allowing you to hold his servo as he cradled you from behind and coached you through it, he hadn't yet had any more physical contact with the newborn than a brush of his digits against their tiny frame. Even that had felt wrong, as if he'd taken an unacceptable risk for his own selfish gain.

You smiled and carefully sat up, angling the bitlet so his sire had a better view. Megatron calmed a little at the confidence in your voice, the affection he had for both of you building as you reminded him of a simple fact. "I think so, he's your son, after all."

His son. That certainly was going to take a while to get used to, along with the explosive mix of emotions his newfound parenthood was stirring up every time he confronted his new reality. Returning to the berth, he pulled up a chair and sat down, looking down at the sparkling in your arms and feeling a fresh lurch of fear. His long and storied history aside, the little one was simply miniscule compared to him, and despite his natural dexterity and ease handling your own fragile form, he was worried that taking them into his grasp could be dangerous. "That is true, but are you... sure it's safe?"

"He'll be safer with you than anywhere else. Here, let me show you." you offered, encouraging him to hold out his cupped servos. As hungry as you were, you didn't rush him when he did as you asked with considerable hesitation. A brief flinch of discomfort across your face compelled him to move more confidently for your sake, his servos moving close enough to save you from any additional discomfort as you lifted the sparkling to hand him over. The bitlet cooed in confusion as he was laid down in his sire's servos, and though the sound and the weight of the tiny being sent a wave of emotion over Megatron he remained still as a statue for your instructions. "Just keep him here, like this. What's most important is supporting his helm."

Megatron nodded, but was otherwise motionless as you sat back against your pillows, the edges of his vision fading as everything beyond the sparkling briefly slipped away. The little one didn't seem at all perturbed by the move, merely curious as he blinked upwards at the massive figure looking down on him before yawning and deciding he was too sleepy to care. Bringing tiny servos to his chubby cheeks, they rubbed their bleary optics before settling back down to snooze, swaddled blankets rising and falling from their peaceful ventilations. The sight nearly sent his spark into a supernova, and he brought the tiny being to his chassis to keep them warm and protected. Pure adoration was tinted by guilt as he looked between the resting sparkling and you contentedly enjoying your meal.

After all the horrors he'd brought to Earth, all the harm he'd caused this world, it had given him you, and by extension, this little being the two of you had made together. It was an honor he could never deserve, and yet, here he was. Perhaps fate had thought fit to offer him a chance to add something to the world for a change.

He brought the little one closer to his helm, his optics stinging with tears he refused to shed as he took his first real look at his son. As hard as it was to believe he'd grow into a properly sized Cybertronian, the new sire had no trouble identifying his own features, from the crimson optics that were currently closed in rest to the shiny silver of his soft mesh. Your own features were mixed in as well, their Cybertronian equivalents expressing themselves beautifully. 

"I'll eat as fast I can, then I can take him back." you said suddenly, breaking him out of the stupor. 

"Take your time, love." he requested gently, smiling down just as the newborn worked a thumb into his mouth to suckle. All hunger and exhaustion completely forgotten, Megatron settled more comfortably in his chair, basking in the moment and forgetting all about the world beyond. His words were soft yet certain when he spoke next. "I have him, and I have you."

[saythenametotheworld]

Foolish One | h.rj

A chance encounter with Renjun at the campus library turns into late-night study sessions and stolen moments. He's everything you're looking for—thoughtful, kind, intelligent. But is this the start of something real, or just a story you’re telling yourself?

ONE | two | three | four | five

Genre: crush-at-first-sight, college AU Pairing: Huang Renjun x afab!Reader Warnings: mature themes, language, the plot is dragged out a bit lol Notes: 17k words. Part 1 of the Campus Confessions series, but it can be read as a standalone fic. Listening to Foolish One by Taylor Swift. Genuinely, let me know what you guys think of this. I am very open-minded to constructive criticism. Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know them personally and do not claim they would ever behave like they were portrayed in this story.

Playlist: 1 2 3 by NCT DREAM, Risk by Gracie Abrams, Jump Then Fall by Taylor Swift, Foolish One by Taylor Swift

“Wishful thoughts forgot to mention when something's really not right”

The campus library was quieter than you expected for a Tuesday afternoon during exam week, the kind of silence that made your every move feel amplified and noticeable. You were feeling self-conscious, wondering if everyone was noticing you standing awkwardly at the front desk while the librarian refused to check out the book you wanted to borrow. But the embarrassment didn’t bother you as much as the growing panic in your chest. You really needed this book right now so you could do a last minute study before your exam in thirty minutes.

Clutching a notebook against your chest, you gave the librarian a pleading look. “Please? Just this once?”

“I’m sorry, but I really can’t do that without your student ID,” the librarian said, her tone polite but firm. “You know how it works right? We need it for the record.”

You gave a tight smile, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Isn’t there any way to bypass that? I mean, don’t you have librarian privileges, something like that? Please, it would take at least fifteen minutes to get to my apartment for my ID, and another fifteen to come back here.”

The librarian sighed, taking her glasses off and setting it down on her desk. She gave you a stern look. “I know you’re desperate, but I can’t just bend the rules even if I want to. Especially not for a student who’s negligent enough to forget her ID at home when you should be carrying it on your person at all times.”

You were about to protest when a smooth and calm voice spoke from behind you. “Here use mine.”

You turned to see a boy holding out his ID card. Silvery blond hair brushed lightly across his eyes, and his pale skin seemed to glow faintly under the library lights. The thin-framed glasses resting on his nose didn’t hide the sharp clarity in his gaze—calm, observant, and entirely unbothered by the chaos you were exuding. His expression was calm as if lending his card to a stranger was the most natural thing in the world. Somehow, that made you even more flustered.

“Oh,” you said, blinking at him. “That’s really nice of you. Thank you.”

He shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You looked like you’re about to cry.”

Letting out a sheepish laugh, you took the card and handed it to the librarian. “I mean, I was just about to, actually,” you quipped.

It didn’t even take two minutes for the librarian to check out the book. You returned his ID, your gaze catching his name—Huang Renjun—before handing it back.

“Here. And, uh, thanks again.”

“No problem,” he said, smiling before taking his turn to check out his books. “Good luck with your exam.”

“Thanks. You too,” you replied. As he went to talk to the librarian, you stood there for a moment, hesitating, wanting to say more, or to ask him something—anything—but you had stuff to do. The exam wasn’t going to study itself.

You rushed out of the library, muttering his name under your breath and telling yourself not to forget about the cute boy with the silvery blond hair and an ID he didn’t hesitate to lend.

It’s your second semester as a freshman, and so far, you could say you weren’t the type of student to get caught up in the grind of academics. You took up Liberal Arts out of necessity instead of passion. After highschool, you didn’t have a clear-cut direction or dream job in mind, but you knew you had to go to college so you picked something that left the options open, hoping that eventually, you’d figure it out.

When it comes to academics, you do just enough to get by. Your grades are respectable but nothing extraordinary. You’re not taking things for granted—you just didn’t see the point in staying up all night studying or stressing over perfect grades. Even with average grades, as long as you passed, that was good enough for you. While you respected those who worked hard to excel in their academics, you didn’t feel the need to compete with them. You weren’t interested in pushing yourself that far.

Your friends often teased you about it, calling you laid-back or lazy, but they understood. You didn’t need to be at the top of the class to feel content. You just gave enough to get by, balancing school and the rest of your life without too much strain. You figured most people probably felt the same way—just doing enough, hoping things would eventually fall into place.

“How are you feeling?” Karina asked Giselle, her eyes full of concern. The two of them sat beside you on the mat you’d spread out on the grass in the quad.

They were your housemates—your friends, too—living in the big apartment you all shared. You’d met them at the start of the school year, and sharing a space together had made it easy to grow close.

Giselle sighed, leaning her head against your shoulder. “Not any better. I think the medicine’s not doing anything.”

You rubbed her back gently, trying to comfort her. “Just give it some time. If it gets worse, you can rest at home. I’ll make you some healthy soup.”

Giselle raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in her eyes. “You can’t cook.”

You laughed, shrugging casually. “How hard can it be? I’m a fast learner.”

Jaemin, who had been sitting across from you, snickered. “Shut up. You can’t even tell the difference between a cucumber and a zucchini.”

You gasped dramatically, scooting away from him, glaring. “You shut up! You used to follow me around like a puppy when we were kids. Stop acting like you’re the smart one.”

Jaemin rolled his eyes. “We were fourteen, not kids.”

You smirked. “Doesn’t change the fact that you followed me around like a lost puppy.”

Jaemin crossed his arms, sighing heavily. “I’m just making things clear because I don’t want to sit here and watch you rewrite the facts in front of your friends. And just for the record, I was lost at the time.”

Karina turned to Giselle. “How does anyone confuse zucchini with cucumber?”

Giselle just shrugged, unimpressed.

You shot them both a look. “In my defense, they look exactly the same!”

The two stared at you, shaking their heads in perfect unison. It was almost comical. “No, they don’t,” Giselle said flatly.

“They really don’t,” Karina agreed.

You were about to fire back when something—or rather, someone—caught your eye. That unmistakable side profile, the silvery hair catching the sunlight just right. “Huang Renjun,” you blurted out, your voice almost dreamy as your gaze followed him.

“Huang who?” Giselle asked, turning to follow your line of sight. Her eyes lit up. “Oh, the guy from the library?”

“Yes!” you gasped, clasping your hands over your mouth like you’d just seen a celebrity. “See? I told you he’s cute.”

“You’re right, he totally is,” Karina chimed in, sharing the same gleeful smile as you and Giselle.

“What’s going on? Who’s that?” Jaemin leaned closer, his curiosity piqued.

You grinned, leaning toward him like you were about to spill the juiciest secret. “He’s the guy who saved my ass yesterday.”

All eyes shifted back to Renjun, who stood by the library talking to a group of students. From this distance, you could see the bright smile on his face as he laughed at something his friend said. He looked so effortlessly friendly, so unbothered—and something about that gave you butterflies.

Giselle nudged your arm, eyes glinting with mischief. “Go say ‘hi’!”

“No way!” you hissed, snapping your head toward her. “He probably doesn’t even remember me.”

You stayed rooted to your spot, feeling your friends’ teasing remarks rain down on you like playful jabs. They nudged and prodded, daring you to make a move, but you could only keep your eyes on Renjun. He lingered outside the library for a few minutes before finally stepping inside, disappearing through the double doors. Before you could think too much, your body moved on autopilot.

“I'll be back,” you mumbled to your friends, brushing off their teasing ‘oooh’s as you hurried across the quad. They exchanged knowing looks, grinning like they’d already won some secret bet, but you ignored them and followed him.  

Inside the library, the cool, quiet air made you pause. You spotted Renjun by the window just as he was sitting down at a vacant desk. Summoning every ounce of courage you had, you approached him.

“Hi,” you said softly, feeling your voice wobble just enough to make you cringe.

Renjun turned, his expression neutral at first before recognition lit up his eyes. “Oh, hey,” he said with a small smile. “What’s up?”  

“I, uh…” You cleared your throat, clutching the book in your hands like it was a lifeline. “I was going to return this today, so I’m gonna have to bother you again with your ID to check it in.” You laughed nervously, hoping the self-deprecation would make up for how awkward you felt.  

Renjun’s smile widened just slightly. “Sure, don’t worry about it. It would’ve been worse if you didn’t.” he teased lightly. Before you could answer, he reached into his pocket, pulling out his own card. “Here.”

“Didn’t want a loaned book to hold your GPA back at the end of the semester, right?” you quipped, taking the card from his hand. Renjun chuckled as he nodded. “I’ll be back in a jiffy,” you added before turning to head to the front desk.

After the book was returned, you skipped over to Renjun’s desk and thanked him for his help. He seemed busy with something, so he just told you you were welcome before returning to his task. Meanwhile, you found yourself lingering. The rational part of your brain was telling you to leave and not push your luck, but the louder part was convincing you to stay.

You spotted a vacant desk next to Renjun’s, so you slid into a seat, pulling out your laptop and the notes for a class paper you were gonna start. The paper wasn’t due until next week, but you needed an excuse—a reason to stay within Renjun’s orbit. So you started typing, glancing at your screen for a few seconds before inevitably stealing a look at him. He was sitting a few tables away, scribbling in a notebook, his expression focused.  He looked extra cute by the window, a soft beam of sunlight catching his hair and his flawless skin as he worked. The way his brows furrowed in concentration, the absentminded way he twirled his pen—it was like he didn’t even realize how distractingly handsome he was. Then again, maybe it was just in your eyes because there was no denying the fact that you were immensely infatuated by him.

You were mid-sentence in your essay when you stole another glance. But he glanced up just as your gaze lingered a second too long. Your eyes darted back to your screen so fast it was a miracle you didn’t get whiplash. Too late, you’d been caught red-handed already. Still, you couldn’t help yourself from doing it again, making sure to be more subtle this time—only to fail at it.

The second time he caught you looking, he held your gaze for a second longer, one eyebrow lifting in silent amusement. By the third or fourth time, he set his pen down, leaned back slightly, and called out softly, “Am I distracting you from your work?”  

You froze, heat rushing to your cheeks. “What? No, I wasn’t—” You fumbled, searching for an excuse. “I was just… looking around. Yes. I’m looking around as I think.”

Renjun chuckled, the sound low and warm. “I see. I thought I had something on my head,” he said, gesturing over his head.  

You huffed, flustered, and busied yourself with your notes, hoping to regain your composure. To your surprise, Renjun didn’t let the moment hang awkwardly. Instead, he asked casually, “What are you working on?”  

“Oh,” you said, grateful for the topic shift. “It’s an essay for a philosophy class.”  

He tilted his head, curious. “Which one?”  

You named the subject, and his expression brightened. “I took that last semester,” he said. “Professor Lee, right?”

“Yeah, that’s her,” you confirmed.

Renjun nodded thoughtfully. ““Well, then you don’t need to worry much. She’s really chill. She’s not the kind of professor who’ll mark you down for having a different opinion, so you can pretty much write how you actually feel about the topic.”  

His words surprised you. “Really?”  

“Really,” he said with a nod. “She actually encourages it. Just make sure you explain your points well. She likes a good argument.”  

You found yourself smiling, his advice easing some of the stress you hadn’t realized you were carrying about the essay. “Thanks. That’s actually very helpful.”  

“No problem.” He picked up his pen again, flashing you one last smile before returning to his notes.  

And just like that, you had one more reason to stay a little longer. You continued writing your paper, making sure you did it well and explained your points clearly. Occasionally, you would glance up at him, grinning to yourself at how attractive he looked when he was focusing. You didn’t need to talk after that. You wanted to, but you couldn’t find the right timing nor the right topic. By the time your phone alarm went off for your next class, you were already halfway through your essay.

Standing up to gather your things, you gave Renjun another glance, debating whether to say goodbye. The idea of walking off without a word felt odd, but you worried a goodbye might seem too eager, too obvious. So you hesitated—just long enough for him to notice.

“Done already?” Renjun asked, tilting his head slightly.

““No! Not yet.” Your response came faster than you intended. “I mean, I have to go to class, so… I’ll finish later.”

He nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “If you need help with that paper, let me know. Maybe I can offer some pointers.”

The offer caught you off guard, and for a second, all you could do was blink at him.

Renjun seemed to realize how it sounded, and his hand darted up to rub the back of his neck. “Wait, that came out wrong. I didn’t mean it like—uh—it wasn’t supposed to sound—” He let out a nervous chuckle. “That was kind of arrogant, wasn’t it?”

“No! Not at all!” you said quickly, shaking your head with more enthusiasm than you intended. “I mean, I would definitely let you know if I needed help.”

His laughter softened, and he ducked his head slightly, as though embarrassed. “Well, now it sounds like I think I’m a genius or something.”

“Renjun, stop. You’re fine,” you assured him, a smile creeping onto your face. And you meant it. There was something unexpectedly charming about his fumbling attempt to explain himself.

He hesitated, then asked, almost shyly, “What’s your name?”

You blinked again. “Sorry?”

“I just realized… you know my name, but I don’t know yours,” he explained, the tips of his ears noticeably pink.

“Oh!” You told him your name, watching as he repeated it under his breath—not once, but twice, as though memorizing every syllable.

When he looked up at you, his smile was soft, almost boyish. “Nice to meet you. You should get to class before you’re late.”

“Right. Yeah. Um, see you around,” you said, clutching your bag tightly and walking out before you said something embarrassingly incoherent.

As soon as you were out of sight, you let the grin you’d been holding back take over. It was silly, how a few awkward exchanges could make your heart race like this. For the first time in a long while, it felt less like fleeting, hormone-driven infatuation and more like a genuinely innocent crush.

For the next few days, the library became your favorite spot, and it definitely wasn’t just because of your paper. Whether it was morning or late afternoon, you found yourself there, trying to catch glimpses of Renjun. Sometimes he was already settled in when you arrived, headphones on and pen tapping rhythmically against his notebook. Other times, you got there first and watched the door with anticipation.

You made it a point to sit near him whenever you could. If the spot next to him was taken, you’d find a table within view. Eventually, you started interacting a bit more, small moments that shouldn’t have felt significant but somehow they did.

Like the time you dropped your pen and Renjun leaned down to retrieve it, handing it to you with a quiet, “Here you go.” 

His fingers brushed yours briefly, and though it lasted less than a second, it was enough to make your heart skip a beat. Another time, while unpacking your bag, your water bottle rolled off the table. Renjun caught it mid-fall and handed it back with an amused smile. “Careful, your bag is out for sabotage today,” he joked.

You smiled, shaking your head. “Not when you’re here to save the day,” you retorted, feeling proud of your quick and witty response.

Then there was the time you walked past him on your way to the shelves, and he looked up, offering a small nod of acknowledgment. It wasn’t much—just a polite gesture—but it left you grinning like an idiot as you pretended to browse the books, replaying the moment in your head.

One morning, Renjun sneezed, and you instinctively murmured, “Bless you.” He glanced at you, surprised but touched. 

“Thanks,” he said softly, his smile warm enough to make you forget where you were.

Each interaction, however small, only made you more drawn to him. One day, Giselle decided to tag along, claiming she needed to ‘see this Renjun guy’ for herself. The two of you walked into the library, and sure enough, he was already there, engrossed in his notes. Giselle wasted no time making her move, striding right up to him with her trademark confidence.

“Hi! You’re Renjun, right?” she asked, her tone friendly but direct.

Renjun looked up, startled but polite. “Uh, yeah. Do I know you?”

“No, but I think we have a mutual friend. Ningning?”

Renjun’s expression softened at the mention of Ningning, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Oh, yeah, Ningning.”

“How is she? I haven’t seen her since last semester.”

You watched the exchange from a few steps away, nervous and embarrassed at the same time. Giselle was handling the conversation so effortlessly, but you couldn’t help but worry about how this would make you look.

After chatting for a minute, Giselle turned to you and grinned. “Nice to meet you, we’ll leave you to it. Or, actually,” she gestured to the empty seat across from Renjun, “do you mind if we sit here?”

Renjun shook his head. “No. Go ahead.”

Giselle gave you a pointed look as the two of you sat down, clearly proud of herself for setting this up. That day, you ended up sitting with Renjun without needing an excuse. Giselle paved the way with her easy conversation, dropping Ningning’s name enough times to turn the awkward encounter into something comfortable. She only stayed for about twenty minutes before leaving, claiming she had other things to do. 

“Good luck with your paper!” she called out, leaving you alone with Renjun. You chatted a lot more than usual then, and you were giddy and smiling the whole time.

The moment that truly melted you, though, happened on a particularly busy day. The library was unusually crowded, and you could not find a vacant seat. You were about to leave for the day when you spotted a hand waving in the air. It took you a second to realize it was Renjun, beckoning you over to the seat next to him.

The sight made your stomach flutter, sending a wholesome kind of warmth through you. You didn’t even hesitate, smiling as you walked through the maze of desks and sat down next to him. “Hi! This place is full full.”

“I know. It’s not even exam week,” he replied while you were setting your stuff down. Then he gestured to the side of the table where his books were sprawled. “Do you need more space? I can move these.”

“Oh no, it’s fine,” you said quickly, but the gesture made your chest flutter all the same.

It was almost the deadline for your paper, and while you were hoping you could use that as an excuse to sit with him that day, it seemed unnecessary now. Still, you thought it would be best to ask for his help while you were there.

“I’m taking you up on that offer today,” you began, hoping your cheerfulness would mask the nervousness you were feeling.

“Finally,” he quipped back, closing his book as he watched you open your laptop beside him. “I was starting to feel embarrassed about that offer. I was thinking you never really needed help and I was being arrogant.”

“Oh, stop it,” you huffed, toggling to the paper in your device. “Here. Would you mind taking a look at my draft? Just to see if it makes sense?”

Instead of tugging the laptop toward him, as you normally would, Renjun scooted closer, his shoulder brushing against yours as he leaned over your screen. He read it as it was, eyes scanning your words with quiet focus. Probably too focused to even notice you holding your breath beside him, heart racing in your chest at the sudden proximity.

“This is good,” he said after a moment, his voice low and thoughtful. “But here, maybe you could elaborate more on this point. And this—” he gestured to another part, “—is strong, but you could link it back to this statement more clearly.”  

You nodded, though most of his advice went over your head because your brain was too busy short-circuiting over how close he was. The scent of his cologne, the way his lips moved as he explained something you didn’t catch—all of it was impossibly distracting.

When he leaned back, you snapped out of your daze enough to say, “Thanks. That was really helpful.”  

“It’s nothing,” he said, flashing a small smile. “If you need help again, just let me know—so long as it’s something I actually know.”  

And then he added, almost offhandedly, “It’s nice studying with someone.”  

Your heart skipped a beat, and you didn’t hesitate to seize the moment. “Maybe we could be study buddies?” you offered, trying to sound as casual as you could.

Renjun looked at you for a second, then nodded. “You know what? Maybe we should be study buddies.”

Ever since you moved away for college, you’d grown to enjoy three things: first, the independence of doing things on your own time without having to consider family members; second, experiencing a city so different from the hometown where you’d spent most of your life; and lastly, going to parties without a curfew.

These might sound shallow to some people, and honestly, you thought so too. Then again, you’d happily admit that you weren’t a profound kind of girl.  Growing up, you’d always been easy to please—and just as easy to disappoint. You wore your heart on your sleeve, never bothering to bottle up your feelings or hide your opinions. It helped that you were outgoing, the kind of person who cared more about your own well being than having beef with other people, so you never really had to fight anyone.

That being said, you liked to keep your circle small, only making friends with people you like and keeping a civil relationship with everyone else. With your small circle of friends—only Giselle, Karina, and Jaemin—it was easy to just tell them everything about you.

But tonight, even that small circle couldn’t make this party feel less exhausting.

“Girl, you did not come here just to stay invisible in a corner,” Karina sighed, towering over you on the lumpy corner couch while you sipped from a red plastic cup.

“What?” you asked, genuinely puzzled. “What else am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know, be normal? You’re more fun than this,” she retorted, squeezing herself into the seat next to you. “Don’t make me sound like your mom, but it’s like you’re not even trying tonight. You’re usually the one dragging me into something embarrassing.”

“Yeah, but this is kinda boring, don’t you think?” you said, gesturing vaguely at the chaos around you.

Music blared from the speakers, with strobe lights dancing in the ceilings and the floors all around you. Blending with the music were the sounds of people chatting and laughing animatedly. Students were either drunk or high, dancing in circles or hanging off each other. Even the air felt too heavy, thick with the smell of sweat, booze, and something you were pretty sure wasn’t tobacco.

Karina’s eyes widened like you’d just said something ridiculous. “Boring? This?” she scoffed, throwing her hands up at the lively crowd.

You grinned at her over the rim of your cup. “Just saying.”

She rolled her eyes, but you noticed the corner of her lips twitching like she was trying not to smile. The two of you must have looked ridiculous, crammed onto the tiny couch while the rest of the party swirled around you.

“Where’s Gigi, anyway?” Karina asked, scanning the crowd.

You leaned to the side, spotting Giselle at the bar. She was laughing with a guy who was practically draped over her, his lips close to her ear as he whispered something that made her toss her hair back and giggle.

“She’s having fun,” you said, nodding toward her.

“At least one of us is,” Karina grumbled.

“Hey, I didn’t ask you to sit here and look lonely with me. I was doing a good enough job of it by myself,” you teased, nudging her shoulder.

Before she could retort, Jaemin appeared between the two of you, crouching slightly so he could speak right into your ears. “Long faces at a party? You two are ruining the vibe.”

“Go away,” Karina grumbled, shoving Jaemin’s face with her palm.

Undeterred, Jaemin grabbed her hand, intertwining their fingers with a devilish grin. “I know why you’re sulking. Forget about him; he’s not coming.”

“You little—” Karina tried to yank her hand back, but Jaemin held on, wagging his head as if scolding her.

Turning his attention to you, he asked, “And you? What’s your excuse? Hungry? Sleepy? Time of the month? Which is it?”

“What are you even talking about?” you replied, raising an eyebrow.

Jaemin narrowed his eyes like he’d caught you in a lie. “You do know that it’s weirder to see you idle at a party than when you’re throwing it back on the dance floor, right?”

You shrugged, taking another sip from your cup. “Can’t a girl take a break from all that?”

Karina, finally prying her hand free, leaned back with a smirk. “Shouldn’t you be happy about this? Less activity from her means less work for you.”

Jaemin stood upright like he’d just had a light bulb moment. It was also then that Giselle came bounding over excitedly. “Jeno. Jeno. Jeno,” she chanted, pointing toward the staircase.

Your ears perked up as you followed her gaze. There he was—Lee Jeno—locked in a steamy makeout session with a pretty girl you’d seen around before.

Karina gave you a sidelong glance, her voice cautious. “Are you seeing that right now?”

“I am,” you chuckled, rolling your eyes. “What a fuckboy.”

Giselle raised an eyebrow, nudging your arm. “Yet you still like him, don’t you?”

“Of course, I do,” you admitted with a chuckle. “Him being a fuckboy doesn’t change the fact that he’s hot.”

Karina cringed dramatically. “Your judgment is so questionable.”

Jaemin snapped his fingers in front of your face. “Hold up. What’s going on? Do you have a thing for Lee Jeno too?” When you grinned instead of answering, he groaned, shaking his head. “Just how many crushes do you have, woman?”

Honestly, only two—Jeno and Renjun. But these days, Renjun had the edge. Jeno might’ve been the one who flirted with you last semester, but lately, you couldn’t help but swoon over Renjun’s quieter, more thoughtful charm.

“I like Renjun more,” you confessed. “He’s just the complete opposite of Jeno. I kinda wish he were here. Though I know this isn’t really his scene.”

“Girl, doesn’t it bother you that you like two completely different types of guys at the same time?” Karina asked, genuinely curious.

You scoffed, throwing your hands up in mock exasperation. “Girl, does it matter?”

For a while, you stayed in the corner, sipping your drink and chatting with your friends. But as the minutes ticked by, the infectious energy of the crowd started pulling you in. Soon you were getting up from the couch and joining the thrumming crowd, Karina trailing behind you.

Giselle and Jaemin quickly found their own adventures—Giselle gravitating back toward the bar, her giggles disappearing into the noise, and Jaemin vanishing somewhere toward the dance floor. That left you and Karina sticking close, both of you weaving through the chaos as you searched for the makeshift minibar.

That’s when Donghyuck appeared.

The first thing he did when he saw you was flirt. “Hi, gorgeous. Are you going home with me after this, or should we just skip the formalities and head back to my place now?”

You gave him a deadpan look. “Pass.”

He smirked, completely unfazed. “The bathroom’s closer if my place is too far for you.”

“Isn’t your place Mark Lee’s place?” you shot back. “Hard pass.”

Donghyuck’s grin widened like he’d been waiting for you to say that. “Aw, still sore about getting rejected by Mark?”

“I wasn’t rejected,” you snapped, turning to face him fully. “It was a misunderstanding.”

“Sure it was,” he drawled, leaning in closer. “But lucky for you, Mark’s not coming home tonight. Think of it as a golden opportunity.”

“Dude, she’s just not that into you,” Karina cut in, her tone flat as she rolled her eyes.

Donghyuck turned to her with a theatrical gasp. “I don’t know about that,” he replied, looking back at you and winking playfully.

You felt a chill run down your spine—not the kind caused by fear or disgust, but the kind that made your skin tingle and sent heat between your thighs. It was infuriating how easily Lee Donghyuck could pull that off, and even more infuriating that your body had the nerve to respond.

But you’d sooner gouge your own eyes out than admit that to him. “Go away, Hyuck,” you said, shoving him lightly with your free hand.

He laughed, stepping back just enough to give you space but staying close enough to remain a nuisance. “See you later, then.”

As he walked off, Karina gave you a side-eye. “You’re not hanging out with that guy, are you?”

“No, I’m not,” you lied, taking another sip of your drink and avoiding her gaze.

“Good. That guy is nothing but trouble,” she replied, glancing back at Donghyuck who had now found another girl to bother.

The next morning, you woke up to the sharp ring of your alarm blaring in your ears. Disoriented, you reached out blindly to silence it, only for your hand to slap the cold, hard floor. Floor? You groaned, peeling your cheek off the surface and wincing at the sticky residue clinging to your skin. Why were you on the floor?

Your head pounded mercilessly, a dull ache that only grew worse as you sat up and tried to piece together what had happened the night before. Your phone buzzed on the table, and when you reached for it, you caught a glimpse of your reflection in the black screen: mascara smudged, hair in complete disarray, and a faint red mark on your forehead where you must have hit something.

“Crap,” you muttered, staring at the time. You had twenty minutes to make it to your study session with Renjun!

Scrambling to your feet, you almost tripped over your own feet on your way to the bathroom. No matter how tight your schedule was, you must not skip taking a shower before going out today because you stink. So you stepped under the shower head, using cold water on purpose in hopes that the freezing water would jolt you into wakefulness. You scrubbed your face like it would erase the remnants of last night’s chaos.

What even was last night’s chaos?

Snippets of loud music, flashing lights, and Donghyuck’s smirk popped into your mind, but you shoved them aside. You could recall every bit of last night if you tried hard enough, but there was no time to dwell on your questionable life choices. You threw on a hoodie and jeans, grabbed your bag, and sprinted out the door, hair still damp and heart pounding.

When you reached the library, you were breathing hard, and the cold air made your headache even worse. The library was almost deserted. Pulling out your phone, you texted Renjun to let him know you’d made it, only for his reply to make you cringe.

Renjun: Love your enthusiasm, but aren’t you an hour too early? 😀

The realization came with shame: you were way too eager. There was no other way to spin it. You sat down at a random table, trying to blend into the background despite the fact that the library was far from crowded. You spent the next few minutes scrolling through your phone, distracting yourself from the embarrassment you were feeling inside.

Ten minutes later, Renjun walked in, his usual calm demeanor intact. When he spotted you, he smiled and quickened his pace. “Hi,” he greeted, setting his bag down across from you.

“Hi,” you greeted back, moving your bag out of the desk. “Aren’t we supposed to meet later?”

“Yeah, but you’re already here, so might as well,” he replied, shrugging. “This works better for me, actually, since I have errands later.”

“We could always reschedule, you know?” you suggested, though that was far from what you were feeling inside. “And did you rush here? You look out of breath.”

“Ah.” Renjun chuckled as he grabbed his water bottle and took a huge sip. “I didn’t want you to wait too long, so I rushed out,” he said after a drink.

His words caught you off guard. He looked so nonchalant about it, like it wasn’t a big deal, but the thought of him rushing because of you warmed your chest.

From that day on, Renjun always sat with you during your study sessions. It wasn’t something you planned, but it became an unspoken agreement between the two of you, a rhythm that settled into place without either of you needing to say a word.

Small gestures like him offering his pen when yours ran out of ink felt special, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise. It was just convenience, you told yourself, but the way his hand lingered a second too long or the faint smile he’d flash before going back to his notes made it impossible not to wonder.

He’d text you ahead of time if the library was packed, letting you know he’d saved you a seat or that you should just reschedule. You’d thank him, trying to sound casual, but your chest always felt lighter seeing his name light up your screen.

Over time, your study sessions became less about the textbooks and more about getting to know the little things that made Renjun… Renjun. He was a linguistics student who could explain the quirks of syntax or the history of a word with an enthusiasm that made you want to listen, even when you weren’t entirely interested. He liked sci-fi movies—ones with confusing plots and bizarre visuals—and he’d binge them whenever he wasn’t drowning in assignments.

You noticed he had a birthmark on the back of his hand—grayish with a hint of purple, like a bruise that never faded. The first time you commented on it, asking if he’d hurt himself, he chuckled and said, “It’s been there since I was a kid.”

Sometimes, when he was particularly focused, his brows would furrow and his lips would press into a pout that you found annoyingly endearing. You’d have to stop yourself from staring too long, afraid he’d catch you.

Renjun had this habit of quietly humming under his breath while writing notes. It was so soft you almost missed it, but once you noticed, you couldn’t unhear it. When you teased him about it one day, he laughed, embarrassed, but the sound of his laughter stuck with you long after the session ended.

It was in these in-between moments that you realized how much you looked forward to spending time with him—not just as a study buddy, but as someone who made the world feel a little less ordinary.

One afternoon, you caught him sketching in the margins of his notebook while you took notes. His pencil moved with a quiet confidence, tracing lines and curves that turned into an intricate little doodle.

“Is that what you do when you’re bored?” you asked, leaning over to get a better look.

Renjun quickly covered the drawing with his hand, chuckling nervously. “It’s nothing. Just a habit.”

You tilted your head, smiling. ��A habit? You’re pretty good.”

He gave you a small smile but didn’t seem convinced by your words.

“I mean it,” you insisted, giving him a sincere look.

He hesitated before glancing down at his notebook. “Thanks,” he said softly, opening his notebook again. “Do you wanna see it?”

“Are you kidding me? Yes!” you giggled, leaning closer to take a look. “I love visual arts. It’s like something I wish I could do but since I don’t have the talent for it, I just settle with appreciating it.”

“Well, I don’t have the talent either. It’s just a hobby,” he replied while you were flipping through the pages of his notebook, admiring the small doodles on the margins.

“You’re too modest,” you chimed, impressed by the effortless beauty of his cute, almost cartoonish art. “I think you’re really good at this.”

Encouraged by your sincerity, he opened up a little. “I liked drawing as a kid. I used to think I’d pursue it as a career, but, you know, priorities. I have a vision of an ideal future which seemed difficult to achieve if I chose art.”

You frowned. “That’s kinda sad.”

He quickly shook his head, his tone light. “I don’t feel that way about it, though. It’s not like I’m completely banned from making art. I’m just putting it on hold for now.”

You watched him closely, noting the way his expression shifted between wistfulness and acceptance. The way he brushed it off so easily tugged at something in you. “Well,” you said after a moment, “for what it’s worth, I think you should keep doing it. Even if it’s just for yourself.”

Renjun looked at you, his lips quirking into a soft smile that lingered a little too long. “Thanks,” he said again, and this time, he sounded like he meant it.

“I think he likes you,” Karina said, sprawled across the couch, hugging a throw pillow with a dreamy grin on her face. “You’ve been spending so much time together lately. I wouldn’t be surprised if he asks you out soon.”

“Agreed,” Giselle added, flipping through a magazine that was clearly not as interesting as this topic. “He really should do it soon.”

You plopped down on the floor with a loud sigh, dramatically draping an arm over your eyes. “You think so?”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” Jaemin muttered from his spot on the carpet, tossing popcorn into the air and catching it with his mouth. “You’ve barely seen each other outside the library. For all you know, he’s just being nice.”

“Oh, come on,” you shot back, lifting your arm to squint at him. “You don’t see the way he looks at me with this little smile, like…” You mimicked an exaggerated dreamy face.

Karina giggled. “You’re so delusional. It’s cute, though.”

Giselle joined in. “Yeah, the way you’ve been acting lately is straight out of a high school drama. You, of all people, getting excited about study sessions? Who are you?”

“Hey, I’ve always been academically inclined!” you defended, sitting up.

Jaemin snorted. “Cramming at 3 a.m. doesn’t count as ‘academically inclined.’”

You threw a popcorn kernel at him, which he dodged with an annoyingly smug grin. “For your information,” you said, pointing at him with mock indignation, “I’ve been taking notes. Like, actual, color-coded, neat notes. With highlighters.”

“Oh no,” Giselle gasped, feigning horror. “The highlighters! It’s worse than we thought!”

“It’s called being responsible,” you huffed, crossing your arms with a proud smirk.

“It’s called being whipped,” Jaemin corrected, leaning back with a smirk. “You’re not fooling anyone. You’re basically studying because you’re hoping he’ll think you’re smart and fall for you.”

“First of all,” you said, holding up a finger, “Renjun already knows I’m smart.”

Jaemin snorted.

“Second of all,” you continued, ignoring him, “this newfound work ethic has nothing to do with him.”

“Right,” Giselle drawled, shooting Jaemin a look.

“Absolutely nothing,” you repeated with a grin, tossing popcorn into your own mouth.

“Guys, give her a break,” Karina chided softly, though she was grinning playfully too. “Isn’t it good that she’s motivated?”

Giselle snickered, giving you a mischievous side eye. “Anyone would be motivated if they’re being promised some di—”

You cut her off by shoving popcorn in her mouth. “I haven’t been promised anything.”

Giselle chewed her food quickly and started poking your sides. “You’re grinning so hard your face is gonna crack.”

You laughed, playfully swatting her hand away. “I just think it’s nice, okay? To have a study buddy who, like, actually cares if I pass my exams. Unlike some people.” You gave Jaemin a pointed look.

“Hey, I care,” he replied, holding up his hands defensively. “I just don’t think you should fool yourself into thinking it’s anything more than studying.”

Karina laughed. “Don’t listen to him. I think it’s sweet. It’s cute seeing you so motivated, even if it is…” she trailed off, glancing at Giselle.

“Dick-motivated,” she finished bluntly, popping another piece of popcorn into her mouth.

“You’re so gross,” you scoffed, narrowing your eyes at her.

“Hey, I call it like I see it,” Giselle shrugged. 

“I will say this, though, if it’s making you study harder, maybe it’s not the worst thing. We’re freshmen, so you can still pave the way for yourself to graduate with flying colors,” Jaemin added, wiggling his eyebrows. “But you guys need to go out of that library first. Go to the quad for a change. Maybe get coffee together or something.”

“Jaemin,” you said, resting your chin on your hand with an exaggerated pout, “why would I need coffee when Renjun already gives me a caffeine rush by just existing?”

Giselle cackled. “Oh my god, you’re hopeless.”

“Hopelessly in love,” you declared dramatically, flopping back onto the floor with a hand over your heart.

Karina shook her head, laughing. “You’re so embarrassing.”

“You love me anyway.”

Jaemin groaned. “No, seriously. Stop living in your fantasy world and ask him to hang out. Outside. Of. The. Library.”

You peeked up at him with a mischievous grin. “But what if he’s waiting for the perfect moment to confess? What if he’s just as nervous as I am?”

“Then you’re both pathetic,” Giselle deadpanned, though her lips twitched like she was holding back a laugh.

“Don’t worry,” you said with mock seriousness. “When we finally get together, I’ll make sure to invite you to the wedding.”

Giselle and Jaemin groaned again, this time louder. “You’re insufferable when you’re like this,” Jaemin complained.

You just laughed, the giddy, teenage-like crush bubbling over until it spilled out of you in the form of exaggerated dramatics. Maybe your friends were right, and you should try to take things further, but for now, you were perfectly content basking in the joy of it all—even if your friends never let you live it down.

However, it seemed like your friends weren’t the only ones bothered about the slow development in your relationship with Renjun. The universe too, knew that it was time for you to leave the safe confines of the campus library. 

It happened on a late Sunday afternoon. You walked into a café, expecting nothing more than a quiet moment with your usual overpriced latte. But then you spotted him—Renjun. He wore a soft expression that caught the golden light streaming through the window, his face almost glowing as he leaned over a notebook. He was sitting alone with a half-empty cup of coffee by his side, his pencil moving in quick, deliberate strokes.

You knew, logically, that Renjun didn’t spend every waking moment in the library. He had a life outside of it, of course. But seeing him in a place without the endless shelves of books and the soothing silence of the library around felt a little weird, in a good way. There was something oddly intimate about it, like you’d stumbled into a part of his life you had never seen before—and in a way, it really was something you hadn’t seen before. 

You were still rooted to the spot, trying to decide whether to turn around and flee or walk over and say hi, when Renjun glanced up—and noticed you. His eyes widened slightly in surprise before his face broke into a small, easy smile. He lifted a hand in a casual wave, gesturing for you to come over.

Well, so much for running away, you thought to yourself as you waved back. You walked over, trying your best to seem like you weren’t overthinking every step. 

“Hey,” he greeted, his smile widening as he closed his notebook and pushed it aside. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“You too,” you replied, hoping your voice sounded light and not as jittery as you felt. You glanced around, pretending to take in the café like it wasn’t the hundredth time you’d been there. “I was just gonna grab some coffee but I didn’t expect to run into you here. No offense but I thought your all-time favorite place is the library.”

Renjun chuckled. “Not really. I like coming here when the library gets too quiet.”

You nodded, though his words sent your mind spiraling. He’d been here all this time, escaping the quiet of the library, while you’d been basking in it, thinking it was your shared haven.

“I see, so you come here often?” you asked, cringing internally at how cliché you sounded.

Renjun nodded. “Not as often as I’d like. I get caught up in schoolwork most of the time. But when I do, this is my go-to spot.”

“Cool,” you replied, though you felt anything but. Your mind was screaming at you to think of something interesting to say but all you could do was nod.

“Do you want to join me?” he asked, gesturing to the chair across from him.

The question caught you off guard, and for a second, you just stared at him like he’d asked you to solve an equation without a calculator—and you sucked at Math!

“Yeah, sure,” you said finally, sliding into the seat. As you settled in, the reality of the situation hit you—this was your chance! No library distractions, no pretense of study sessions. Just you and Renjun, in a cozy café, with nothing but time and the faint buzz of espresso machines between you. And suddenly, your usual crush-induced dramatics didn’t seem so silly anymore.

Renjun had this ability to make the simplest moments feel meaningful. Like when he offered to buy you coffee, even remembering your favorite drink—something you’d mentioned in passing weeks ago. You couldn’t help but wonder if he paid this much attention to everyone or if you were, somehow, different—special, in a way. Maybe you were delusional. Maybe he was just polite. But maybe, just maybe, he actually cared.

The two of you talked about random things as the café buzzed quietly around you—favorite movies, weird study habits, how caffeine was both a blessing and a curse. Renjun listened intently, and just when you thought the conversation might drift into silence, he asked, “Why did you choose your major?”

The question caught you off guard, not because it was invasive but because of how thoughtful it was. It wasn’t something you expected to be asked over coffee. You paused, giving yourself a moment to consider your answer.

“I guess I just fell into it,” you admitted, twirling your straw. “It felt like the safe choice, you know? Like something I couldn’t go wrong with. But sometimes, I wonder if I should’ve picked something else. Something I’m actually passionate about.”

Renjun tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. “What would that be? If you could choose anything?”

You hesitated, surprised by his genuine interest. “I don’t know. I’m not really passionate about something in particular.”

“Well, you are interested in something though, right?” he asked, leaning forward slightly.

You shrugged, feeling a bit self-conscious under his gaze. “I’m interested in a lot of things, just not interested enough to pursue them.”

“Any hobbies?” he asked again, looking genuinely curious. “They said what you do in your free time says a lot about what you’re passionate about. Sometimes you don’t even realize it.”

“I don’t know if the things I do in my free time are considered hobbies.”

“That’s the general description of hobbies, isn’t it?” He chuckled lightly. “Things you do in your free time?”

You smiled sheepishly. “I know. I do have hobbies and I tried looking at them to see which one would be interesting enough to pursue. Couldn’t decide on one. Everything just seems so generic.”

Renjun’s lips quirked into a small smile, and he nodded like he understood. “I think a lot of people feel that way about the things they love. But it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try.”

You weren’t sure what to say to that, so you simply smiled back, warmth blooming in your chest.

When you mentioned that you were on your way to the library to catch up on assignments, Renjun said he’d join you since he had nothing else to do. Your heart flipped at his casual offer, though your mind immediately began spiraling. Did he actually want to spend more time with you, or was it just convenient?

The evening passed in quiet companionship at the library. While you worked on your assignments, Renjun sketched in his notebook, the sound of his pencil scratching faintly against the paper. You stole glances at him, unable to help yourself. There was something peaceful about the way he was so focused, his  hair falling into his eyes as he worked. At some point, you asked to discuss your assignment with him, hoping to get his opinions on your stance.

When it was time to leave, Renjun offered to walk you home. The offer sent your mind reeling again, but before you could respond, Jaemin showed up, his usual smirk firmly in place. “You guys going somewhere?” he drawled, the mischief in his eyes impossible to miss.

You blinked, barely processing his words, because all you could feel was a faint irritation bubbling up. Of course, Jaemin had to show up now, of all times. You trudged toward him with your brows furrowed. And in a low voice, you scolded him. “What are you doing here? You’re ruining my moment!”

“Karina sent me,” he explained, also lowering his voice. He looked irritated too. “She’s going cuckoo. Said you weren’t picking up your phone and it’s past ten o’clock now.”

You stole a glance at Renjun, who was watching the interaction quietly, his expression curious but unreadable. You cleared your throat. “This is Jaemin,” you said reluctantly, gesturing toward him. “He’s a friend.”

“Best friend. We’ve known each other since we were kids,” Jaemin corrected.

You elbowed him in the rib, making him wince in pain. “Teenagers. We’ve known each other since we were teenagers. He’s my mom’s friend’s son.”

Renjun’s gaze shifted to you briefly, as if silently asking for more context. The slight crease in his brow made your stomach flutter, and you felt the need to elaborate. “My roommate Karina made him come check on me.”

Jaemin raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “And you must be Huang Renjun. I’ve heard so much about you,” he said, offering his hand for a shake.

Renjun took it. “You have?” he asked, his tone polite but clearly surprised.

“Yeah. She’s been talking about—ow!” Before Jaemin could finish, you elbowed him again.

“Thanks for today,” you chimed, smiling brightly at Renjun in an attempt to steer the conversation back to normalcy. “For, you know, the coffee and the help with my assignment.”

Renjun turned to you with an easy smile. “Anytime. Hopefully, I didn’t distract you from it too much.”

“Absolutely not,” you replied, shaking your head.

“That’s good then,” he said with a small nod. “I guess I’ll leave you to it. See you next time?”

The words were casual, but they echoed beautifully in your ears. See you next time? Did he mean that? Like, does he actually want to see you again? Or was it something polite people like him would say? You started overanalyzing right then and there, picking apart his tone, his word choice, the little upward curve of his lips when he said it.

“Yeah. See you next time,” you replied, waving a hand as he gave both of you one last look before exiting the double doors.

Your eyes followed him as he walked away, his silhouette framed by the glow of the library’s lights. It was like your crush had decided to script this scene for maximum drama. You wondered if he’d think about this moment later. Would he replay it in his head the way you would? Probably not.

As soon as the door closed behind Renjun, Jaemin leaned in, pulling you out of your musings. “You’re smiling like a total lovesick fool right now,” he sniggered. “It’s almost painful to watch. Almost.”

Your smile vanished as you shot him a glare, though your cheeks burned. “You’re literally the worst.”

“Maybe. But I’m also the reason Karina’s not hunting you down with a broom, so, you’re welcome.”

You rolled your eyes and started walking toward the exit, Jaemin falling into step beside you. Still, as much as you wanted to be annoyed, your thoughts kept drifting back to Renjun’s soft smile and the way he’d said, See you next time.

Karina and Giselle were at the apartment when you got back. Before Karina could preach about your agreement to let each other know if one of you would come home late, you told them about Renjun and the teasing started immediately. 

“Did he say anything?” Giselle asked, practically bouncing with excitement.

You groaned, dropping onto the couch dramatically. “No, he didn’t say anything. But he wanted to walk me home, kind of.”

“Kind of?” Karina repeated with a laugh.

“He offered, but Jaemin showed up, so it didn’t really count,” you admitted.

“Well, at least he offered,” Giselle pointed out.

“Exactly,” Giselle said. “That’s practically a confession of love in boy language. Men are simple like that.”

“Hey!” Jaemin protested but no one paid any attention.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered at the thought. Maybe they were exaggerating. Or maybe you were just hopelessly, blissfully delusional. Either way, you didn’t mind.

The smell of food greeted you as soon as you stepped out of your bedroom, and your stomach rumbled in approval. Following the aroma, you found Jaemin in the kitchen, busily moving around with your hot pink apron tied over his t-shirt.

“Guys, it’s my favorite person in the whole wide world!” you announced dramatically, taking a seat and marveling at the spread of dishes already on the table.

“Stop lying and eat,” Jaemin scolded, his tone sharp but his eyes amused. He carefully set a steaming clay pot in the center of the table, the savory aroma filling the room.

“Na Jaemin, you’re cooking up a feast!” Giselle exclaimed, appearing in the doorway and eyeing the food hungrily. “What’s the occasion?”

Karina came in last, casually pulling her hair into a bun. “I asked him to cook for us because everything in the fridge was about to go bad.”

“Really?” you asked, your spoonful of fried rice hovering mid-air. “All of it?” Without waiting for an answer, you stuffed the spoon into your mouth, letting out a satisfied hum at the flavor.

“Nearly all of it,” Karina confirmed as she sat down next to Giselle. “We haven’t been cooking much lately. The groceries have been untouched for over a week now.”

“Why do we even bother to buy groceries when all we do is order takeout,” Giselle asked, shrugging.

“Hey, don’t say that. We eat home cooked meals sometimes,” you chided, pouting because you were the cook in the house. “Although, I’ll have to admit, I haven’t been cooking much lately.”

“Good thing you have me,” Jaemin said smugly, wiping his hands on the apron. “Everybody say ‘Thank you, Jaemin.’”

“Thank you, Jaemin,” all three of you obliged.

As everyone dug in, Jaemin leaned back, watching you all enjoy the food with a satisfied expression. The sound of clinking utensils and satisfied hums filled the room, and for a moment, you thought this was just another one of Jaemin’s regular ‘save the kitchen’ moments. But then Jaemin reached into his backpack, slung over the back of a chair, and pulled out a small stack of flyers. 

“Speaking of appreciating my genius,” he began, sliding one to each of you, “the fine arts department is hosting an exhibit this weekend. Photography, paintings, sketches—you name it. You guys should come.”

You glanced down at the flyer. The bold text read ‘Life Imitates Art: NCIT Student Art Exhibit’ accompanied by an artsy photo of a painted skyline.

“Oh, this looks cool!” Giselle said, holding up her flyer.

“Of course it does. My department made it,” Jaemin replied smugly. “And, I know someone who loves art and would definitely appreciate this.”

“Who could it be?” Karina muttered, smiling as she glanced at you.

You rolled your eyes at Jaemin’s theatrics, but you couldn’t deny the excitement bubbling in your chest. Art exhibits were totally your thing, and Jaemin knew it. However, the moment you looked back at the flyer, your thoughts drifted to a certain someone.

Would Renjun enjoy something like this? You remembered how he’d once shown you his drawings, shyly flipping through margins of his notebook filled with sketches and doodles of nature, cartoons, and people.  The idea of walking through the gallery with him, admiring the art and sharing thoughts, made your heart skip a beat.

“Will our photos be there?” Giselle asked, pulling you back to reality. “You’ve taken enough pictures of us to fill a gallery.”

Jaemin snickered. “Nope. Freshmen aren’t allowed to participate.”

“What?” the three of you exclaimed in unison, outraged.

“Unfair,” Giselle muttered. “You’re better than half the juniors I know.”

“Exactly!” Karina added, frowning. “Who decided that rule anyway?”

Jaemin shrugged, unbothered. “Rules are rules. Besides, you think I want to deal with more critiques from professors? Hard pass.”

“That’s so lame,” you chimed in, frowning as well. “Your pictures of us deserve to be up there.”

“Flattery won’t change anything,” Jaemin replied with a grin. “But you will come to the exhibit, right?”

“Of course,” Karina answered immediately.

“Definitely,” Giselle said, nudging you. “Right?”

“Obviously,” you replied with a shrug, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Do we have to RSVP, or can we just show up?” Karina asked.

“Just show up. But get there early—it’ll be packed,” Jaemin said. Then he turned to you specifically, raising an eyebrow. “And don’t flake.”

“Who, me?” you said, feigning innocence. “I’d never miss a chance to see what the fine arts department cooked up. You know that.”

The conversation continued with Jaemin fielding questions about the exhibit, but you couldn’t stop thinking about how to casually bring it up with Renjun. Would it be weird to invite him? Would he even want to come?

By the time dinner was over, your mind was already racing with possible scenarios. One thing was clear: you needed to find a way to mention the exhibit to Renjun without sounding like you were asking him on a date. Even though that’s exactly what you were hoping for.

Three days later, you wondered how you managed to invite Renjun to the exhibit without fumbling over your words too much. The memory of your awkward phrasing made you cringe slightly every time it replayed in your head, but here you were—standing next to him in the middle of the gallery, surrounded by art.

He seemed genuinely interested in the pieces, his eyes darting from one frame to another with a quiet intensity. Every now and then, he’d point something out—a brushstroke technique in a painting or the composition of a photograph—and you’d nod along, pretending you weren’t hyper-focused on the way his lips curved as he spoke. 

Normally, you’d be more proactive than this. You could talk about art and techniques for days. But at the time, you were more focused on spending the time with him that you could only listen to his thoughts. You offered some of your own comments, but not as much as you would when it was someone else there with you.

The exhibit didn’t lead to anything romantic, as you’d half-hoped. There were no magical moments, no grand gestures, no accidentally brushing hands that sent sparks flying. But somehow, that was okay. You were content just being there with him.

Dinner was a grander affair than the exhibit, to you, at least. It wasn’t anything fancy—just fast food at a brightly lit diner. You sat across from each other, unwrapping burgers and sipping on sodas, talking about this and that.

As you both ate, the conversation drifted to lighter topics—how the exhibit had surprised you both with its variety, how one of the paintings reminded him of a place he’d visited as a kid, and the sheer horror of seeing the price tags on some of the pieces.

“Five thousand dollars for that?” he exclaimed, gesturing vaguely as if the painting were still in front of him.

“Art is subjective,” you replied with a shrug.

Renjun shook his head, biting into a fry. “Subjective or not, I think my two-year-old cousin could’ve done that with finger paints.”

You laughed, nearly choking on your drink. “Okay, now you’re just being mean. But honestly, same.”

After a pause, he leaned forward slightly. “Do you like art? Like genuinely?”

You nodded, pushing your tray aside. “Yeah. I mean, I’m not an expert or anything, but I like looking at it. It’s relaxing, and sometimes it makes you think about stuff in a different way.”

“I see. Art can make people feel feelings.”

“What about you?” you asked, tilting your head cutely. “Do you just doodle on your notebooks or do you, like, genuinely want to pursue it?”

“I like sketching, but I’m more into digital arts,” he admitted, his voice quieter. “Like I said, it’s more of a hobby. I don’t think I’m good enough to call myself an artist or anything.”

“You do digital arts?” you asked, leaning forward with genuine interest. “That’s so cool! I thought you just sketch on the margins because you want your hands to not stop moving.”

Renjun chuckled heartily, looking a little sheepish. “I do like art a lot. And yeah, maybe I doodle on my notes because I don’t know what to do with my hands sometimes.”

“Can I see them?” you said firmly, leaning closer.

He blinked, surprised. “What?”

“Your digital arts. Can I see them?” you asked and Renjun shrugged. “Only if you wanna show them, of course.”

“Maybe,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “If I ever think they’re worth showing.”

The conversation shifted naturally from there. You learned that Renjun liked savory food more than sweets, that he loved sci-fi movies and old-school animation, and that his favorite season was summer because it was warmer.

In return, you told him about your favorite books and the time you’d tried to paint but ended up with more paint on yourself than the canvas.

Renjun’s laugh came easily, and you found yourself wanting to hear it more. “Sounds like you’d be a hit at one of those paint-and-sip nights.”

“Only if the wine is good,” you replied, grinning.

At one point, he pointed at your tray. “You’re not going to finish that?”

You glanced at the fries you’d left untouched. “No, I’m stuffed. Why? You want them?”

“Waste not, want not,” he said, sliding the tray toward himself.

“Do you even like cold fries?”

“Food is food,” he replied simply, popping one into his mouth.

It was such a small thing, but the casual ease of the moment made your heart warm. You wanted to believe this connection, this closeness, was something meaningful—something real.

But doubt crept in, uninvited and persistent. Was this really going anywhere? Renjun was affecting you more than you’d expected—your mood, your energy, even your plans. You were falling so fast, yet he hadn’t even shown you anything to suggest he was on the same page. Every small gesture, every laugh, every lingering glance—you found yourself dissecting them, overthinking, convincing yourself they meant something when they might not.

Would you be okay if the spark you felt wasn’t mutual?

When dinner was over, the two of you stepped outside, only to find it raining. The kind of rain that drenched you in seconds if you stepped out without an umbrella. You both stood under the awning of the restaurant, staring out into the drizzle. The air was cold, and small splashes of water reached your feet, soaking through your shoes.

Renjun stood beside you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him even in the chilly air. Despite the miserable weather, you didn’t feel annoyed. If anything, the rain seemed to add a certain weight to the moment—a quiet intimacy that made your heart ache in a good way.

You wondered what he was thinking. Was he just as hyper-aware of the proximity between you as you were? Did he feel the way your shoulders nearly brushed every time one of you shifted your weight?

“I didn’t check the forecast,” he murmured, his voice cutting through the rhythmic sound of raindrops hitting the ground. “Guess we’re stuck here for a while.”

You nodded, your hands buried in your pockets. “Yeah. Bummer.”

It was a half-hearted reply, and you hoped he didn’t notice how your voice trembled, not from the cold but from the nervous energy bubbling in your chest.

“What should we do now?” he asked after a moment, turning slightly to look at you.

You shrugged, not trusting yourself to say anything coherent. “No idea,” you mumbled, keeping your gaze firmly on the rain.

Then, without warning, you felt his hands on your shoulders. The touch was light but firm enough to make your heart leap. Before you could even process it, Renjun had pulled you closer, draping his jacket over both your heads.

“Alright,” he said, his tone suddenly full of determination. “We’re making a run for it.”

“What?!” You looked up at him, wide-eyed, half-hidden under the shared shelter of his jacket.

“It’s just rain,” he said with a grin that sent your stomach into a flurry of butterflies. “If we don’t do this, we’ll be stuck here all night.”

You hesitated for a split second, but his enthusiasm was contagious. “Fine,” you relented, unable to suppress a small laugh.

“That’s the spirit,” he said, his smile widening. “Ready?”

“Not really,” you admitted, but before you could overthink it, Renjun tightened his hold on you, and the two of you darted out into the rain.

The world seemed to blur as you ran, your laughter mingling with his as water splashed up around your feet. The jacket did little to shield you, and soon, droplets of rain were sliding down your cheeks and soaking through your clothes. But you didn’t care—not when Renjun was pulling you along, his own laugh ringing like music in your ears.

When you finally reached the bus shed, you stumbled to a halt, breathless and soaked but grinning from ear to ear. Renjun let out a relieved sigh, shaking his wet hair like a puppy, which only made you laugh harder.

“We made it!” he announced, his voice tinged with mock heroics.

“Barely,” you shot back, pushing your damp hair out of your face. “I didn’t know you were the type to do something like that. You’re insane.”

“Insane or genius?” he countered, raising an eyebrow as he leaned against the metal pole of the shed.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress your smile. The rain continued to pour, the sound of it hitting the roof above you creating a soothing rhythm. You both stood there, catching your breath, the moment stretching into something quiet and tender.

“Thank you for today,” Renjun looked at you, his expression softening. “I’m really glad we did this.”

The way he said it made your heart flutter, but before you could dwell on it too long, he added with a teasing grin, “Even if I had to brave the rain for it.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Totally worth it, though.”

“Totally,” he agreed, his gaze lingering on you just a little too long.

For a moment, you thought he might say something else—or that you might—but the sound of car horns broke through your silence, and you both turned to watch the busy streets. The road in front of you was alive with motion—cars speeding past, their headlights streaking through the rain-soaked night. Most of the taxis that passed were already occupied, and when Renjun checked the bus schedule on his phone, he sighed. 

“Caught in traffic,” he said, showing you the GPS map with the slow-moving icon of your bus.

“I figured,” you replied, leaning against the metal pole of the waiting shed. But oddly enough, you didn’t mind. Despite being drenched and stranded, you were having fun.

“Well,” he said, giving the jacket a rueful look before glancing at you, “I’d offer you this, but it’s basically a sponge at this point.”

You shook your head, smiling. “It’s fine. We’re already wet. What difference would it make?”

He shrugged, tucking the useless jacket under his arm. “Fair enough.”

The two of you spent the next few minutes chatting about anything and everything—jokes about how your shoes squelched when you moved, your terrible luck with rain, and a particularly embarrassing story Renjun shared about slipping on wet pavement once.

Then your gaze wandered to the poster on the wall of the waiting shed. It was an advertisement for some soft drink, with bright colors and cheerful models smiling down at you. Or at least, they had been cheerful—someone had scribbled on their faces with marker, adding mustaches and angry eyebrows.

You tilted your head, amused. “What are your thoughts on this piece?” you asked, the same way you’d asked him about the artworks in the gallery earlier that day.

Renjun followed your gaze and chuckled. Then he put on a serious face, as if he was seriously thinking about it. “It’s tasteful, yes. Based on the lines, I think the artist made this on the spot. A spontaneous piece. Overall, it’s top-tier art.”

You tilted your head at the poster, humming in disagreement. “I think it’s mid-tier at most.”

“Think you could do better?” he challenged.

“I’m not much of an artist.”

“Well, how about this?” he said, pulling a pen out of his pocket with a mischievous grin.

You raised an eyebrow. “What’s that for?”

“To write,” he replied matter-of-factly.

“Vandalism?”

He shrugged, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “They’re probably gonna change those posters soon anyway. Might as well leave our mark.”

You grinned, loving the gleam of mischief in his eyes that was too tempting to resist. “Alright,” you said, taking the pen from his hand.

You leaned toward the poster, careful not to smudge it too much with your damp sleeve, and drew the best fox drawing you could make, unsuccessfully, but you were content with it. Then you wrote in large, messy letters: CUTE LITTLE FOX, INJUN.

“That’s a fox?” Renjun asked, surprised. You nodded with a grin. “Looks more like a wet squirrel.”

“That’s fine. Art is subjective,” you scoffed, handing him the pen. “Your turn.”

He shook his head, laughing. Beneath your writing, he drew a cartoon girl who resembled you, and added: YOU’RE MUCH CUTER THAN THE FOX ^_^

The two of you stepped back to admire your masterpiece, grinning like a couple of kids who’d just gotten away with a prank. “Think it’ll make someone’s day?” you asked.

“Either that or they’ll roll their eyes and wonder what middle schoolers did this,” Renjun replied, pocketing the pen.

When the bus finally pulled up, its headlights cutting through the rain, you both boarded, still laughing. As you climbed the steps, you turned back for a moment and snapped a quick picture of your vandalism.

Renjun noticed and leaned closer to take a look at your screen. “What’s that for?”

“Evidence,” you said with a smirk. “Just in case the poster police comes after us.”

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smile as the two of you found seats near the back of the bus, the sound of rain and the hum of the engine accompanying your ride home.

That weekend, while your friends were out doing their own thing, you were in your bedroom, grinning at your phone. You spent the morning scrolling through the pictures you took with Renjun the day before—zooming into his face and admiring the features you’d grown so fond of in the last few weeks. The picture you took of the graffiti was posted in your stories, and you kept checking who’d seen it, hoping one of them would be Renjun himself.

You wished there was an excuse to go out and meet him, but there wasn’t any. Even if there was a valid excuse, you probably wouldn’t act on it because you were worried about being too obvious. Besides, anything you say to invite him outside would only seem like an eager attempt to see him. So you opted to wait till the next time you can hang out with him.

“It’s still Saturday morning?” you grumbled upon seeing the date and time on your phone. “Has the weekend always been this slow?”

As soon as Monday rolled in, you went to your classes with a bounce in your step, listening intently to the lectures and hoping time passed faster. When it was all over, you skipped to the library knowing Renjun would already be there.

And so it continued. The library was your sanctuary as usual, but after a few more days of hunching over the same cramped desks and flickering fluorescents, you suggested a change of scenery. Renjun wasn’t keen on the idea at first, but you managed to convince him to see the appeal of the wide open space and the green grass of the quad just outside the library.

You would spread a small blanket on the grass, and sprawl there with your books or laptops. There were times when your friends would join you but when they did, you’d spend the time chatting instead of studying, so you limited their participation.

Other times, you opted for the cozy cafe outside the campus,  books spread across the table. That space was more intimate and somehow, private. You would read through notes and discuss theories over coffee and dessert. Sometimes, you’d just be talking about random things.

At a glance, it would seem like you spend every day with him without fail, but that wasn’t the case. You studied together once every two days, for only two to three hours max. But it was enough time to fall harder for Renjun. When you weren’t together, you’d be thinking of him. And when he was right before your eyes, your thoughts would still be filled with him. When you were out doing things you usually did with your friends, you wondered who he was hanging out with, or what he did when he wasn’t buried in books.

One day, Renjun suggested a detour after your study session. “There’s this little bookshop near campus,” he said. “It’s got a good vibe. You’ll like it.”

You followed him through winding streets until you reached a hole-in-the-wall shop with dusty windows and a bell that jingled as you entered. The air smelled like old paper and candles. Renjun drifted toward the art section, his fingers skimming the spines of books.

“Here,” he said, pulling one out and handing it to you. “This one’s good.”

You looked at the title, a collection of essays on creativity. A smile tugged at your lips as you were reminded of the time Renjun complimented a creative essay you once showed him. “Are you trying to inspire me?”

“Maybe,” he said with a shrug. “The piece you showed me last time was really good. You need to write more of those.”

You hummed, looking around the shop. Your eyes stopped at a shelf of vintage sketchbooks and canvasses. “Well, in that case, you should sketch more,” you told him, beaming as you led him toward said shelf so you could pick one.

Later, back at your apartment, you flipped through the book, pausing on a passage about capturing fleeting moments. You thought of Renjun—his laugh, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the quiet intensity when he was focused on his work. Your chest tightened with both affection and frustration. Just how much longer could you go on without telling him how you felt?

As long as you could, it seemed. The days passed, and the feelings only grew stronger, but Renjun remained blissfully unaware. Sometimes you wondered if he truly didn’t know, or if he was just pretending not to. You’d catch little moments—a smile, a glance—but you dismissed them. Maybe it meant nothing. Maybe you were imagining it all.

You couldn’t bring yourself to make the first move. You were too shy, too scared of risking everything, too afraid that the warmth you thought you saw in his eyes was nothing more than your imagination. If you never confessed, you could never be rejected. And so, you kept quiet. It was easier this way. But even in the silence, you couldn’t stop wondering if he ever thought about you the same way.

And so it goes.

One day, you sprawled out on a blanket beneath the oak tree in the quad. Karina joined you, which was fine because she wasn’t as noisy as Giselle or Jaemin. Renjun was supposed to be studying, but he was sketching in his notebook instead, the soft scratch of pencil against paper the only sound you could hear from him.

You tried to focus on your notes, but your eyes kept drifting to him—how his brow furrowed in concentration, his lips pressed together in that adorable way that made your chest tighten. His focus was so intense, so effortless, and it made you wonder if he even knew how attractive it was.

“What are you drawing?” you asked, propping yourself up on your elbows.

“Just something,” Renjun replied, turning the sketchpad slightly toward you. “It’s not finished.”

“Oh, that’s cool,” you said, genuinely impressed by the details of his art. You glanced up at the oak tree, which was clearly the reference for his sketch. “How old do you think this tree is?”

Karina looked up from her tablet, following your gaze. “Probably a few decades old.”

“Seventy-three,” Renjun said, his eyes still on the tree. “They said it was planted by the founder of this school. It’s been here since.”

You smiled, looking back at the tree with new eyes. “Is that why it’s in such a weird spot on the school grounds? I always thought it looked out of place.”

“Hi, Jun!” she said, pulling your attention away. She was pretty, with an effortless kind of grace that immediately made you wonder who she was.

“Hi, Lia,” Renjun greeted back with a smile, and you couldn’t help but measure how much of a smile it was. Was it just friendly, or was there something more?

“Is that a sketchbook?” she asked, leaning down to peek over his shoulder.

“Uh, yeah,” Renjun said, closing it quickly, though not before she caught a glimpse of the pages.

“Wow,” she said, her smile widening. “You’re so talented. I didn’t know you could draw.”

Renjun laughed, scratching the back of his neck. “I can, though I’m not that good at it.”

You felt your jaw clench as she lingered, her gaze fixed on him. It wasn’t subtle—how she twirled her hair, leaned just a little too close, like she was trying to get his attention in the most obvious way. But Renjun seemed oblivious, like it was all just normal.

Beside you, Karina tugged at your sleeve. When you exchanged looks, you saw the same confusion in her eyes.

“Who’s that?” she mouthed, and you could only shrug, your stomach tightening with an unfamiliar knot.

After she left, you tried to play it cool, but Renjun noticed the shift in your mood. “Everything okay?” he asked, tilting his head in that endearing way.

“Yeah,” you said, forcing a smile that felt like a mask. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

It was hard to ignore the knot of frustration that settled in your stomach—jealousy, confusion, possessiveness. The way Lia had leaned in just a little too close, the way she smiled at him like she knew something you didn’t—it made your heart twist. You weren’t oblivious to it. She was clearly a competition. And you hated how much that thought stung.

But then, you reminded yourself: you were in no position to feel frustrated or jealous. You couldn’t expect him to cater to your feelings when you hadn’t done anything to express them. And even if he did know, he didn’t owe you anything. Just because you had feelings for him didn’t mean he was obligated to cater to whatever unspoken expectations you’d built in your head.

And so it goes. You stayed quiet, enjoying his company and hoping he’d one day confirm that he too had feelings for you. That all this time, he’d been keeping it to himself worried that it might ruin your friendship.

“Worried about your hair?” Renjun teased one day, while you were standing outside the cafe under the dull gray sky. It has started drizzling and you were wondering if you could make a run for it.

“No,” you shot back, laughing. “Are you worried about yours?”

“No, but just in case…” He reached into his bag and pulled out a bright yellow umbrella with cartoon characters. “I brought an umbrella.”

You stared at it, then at him. “Did you steal that from your little cousin or something?”

“It’s mine, actually,” he corrected nonchalantly. “I got it yesterday.”

“You’re walking around campus with that?” you snickered.

“Hey, Moomin is cool,” he said, unfazed. He popped the umbrella open. “And it’s functional.”

You giggled. “I’m just teasing you. I think it’s very cute.”

Renjun gave you a deadpan stare. “Ha-ha. Thanks,” he said sarcastically.

The two of you huddled under the umbrella, the sound of rain pattering against it. The closeness made your heart race, and you were hyper-aware of the way his shoulder brushed yours as you walked side by side. By the time you reached the library, your cheeks felt warm despite the chill of the rain.

Inside, you settled at a desk by the window. Renjun started sketching again, and you observed him quietly, wondering how much longer you could keep your feelings bottled up. You didn’t know how much longer you could stand being this close to him and not telling him everything.

You busied yourself with an assignment, racking your brain and going through your notes to come up with the best output. Anything to distract yourself from Renjun. And it worked for a while, until the appearance of a certain someone made it impossible to focus on anything at all.

“Renjun,” Lia said, appearing beside your desk with a hand on his shoulder. “Do you have a minute?”

“What’s up?” Renjun asked, setting his pencil down.

“There’s something I want to tell you.”

“Sure. What is it?”

Lia glanced at you with a glint of embarrassment in her eyes. “Can we talk there?”

“Alright.” Renjun nodded, rising to his feet. He gave you a small smile and a nod before following Lia.

You stayed at the table, your fingers fidgeting with the corner of your notebook. You tried to focus on the notes spread across the table, but your eyes kept darting toward the direction Renjun and Lia had gone. What could they possibly be talking about? A prickle of curiosity crept under your skin, impossible to ignore. The logical part of you insisted it was none of your business. But another part—a louder, restless part—was dying to know.

Your fingers tapped rhythmically against the notebook, and your knee was bouncing uncontrollably under the table. You glanced out at the rain, trying to convince yourself to stay put, to respect their privacy, but your thoughts were spinning out of control. What if she was confessing? What if he said yes?

You shook your head, banishing the thought. You didn’t even know what they were talking about. For all you knew, it could be about something entirely irrelevant to confessions and feelings. Still, your chest tightened at the idea of them sharing something you weren’t a part of. Once again, you tried to focus on your work, but your resolve crumbled with each passing second.

“Fuck this,” you muttered, and before you knew it, your legs were moving, carrying you toward the shelves where they had disappeared. Your heart thudded in your ears as you peeked around the corner. There they were, standing by the window, their voices low.

“I hope this doesn’t make things awkward between us,” Renjun said, his tone warm. “You’re an amazing friend, and I’d hate to lose that.”

“No, not at all,” Lia assured him. “I actually just wanted to get that off my chest. Thanks for being honest.”

You covered your mouth, stopping the gasp that almost escaped your lips. You were right after all. Lia was confessing her feelings for Renjun!

They continued chatting briefly, their tones light and unstrained. You couldn’t hear everything they said, but it was clear there was no animosity. Lia seemed to take it well, laughing softly at something Renjun said before they started walking back.

Panicking, you quickly ducked behind another shelf, snatching a random book. When they passed by, you waited a few more moments before returning to the table. You then sat down across from Renjun, and when he noticed you, he gave you that easy smile that always made your chest flutter.

“Where were you?” he asked, one hand flipping a page in his sketchpad.

“I just grabbed something from there,” you lied, showing him the book you took from the shelf. “Are you done talking?”

“Yeah, we’re good.”

Nice, you thought to yourself, smiling. I think I’m good too.

By the time the rain had stopped, you were done with your assignment and Renjun had packed his sketchpad away. These days, he had been drawing a lot, and it made you giddy each time you saw him take out the vintage sketchbook you got for him. Sometimes, you liked to think he was properly practicing his art because of you, but that was just something you told yourself. He didn’t really say or do anything to back it up.

As you glanced out the window, sunlight began to peek through the rain clouds, and you gestured toward it. “Looks like the weather is getting better. Should we head out?”

“Sure,” Renjun said, tucking his pencil into his bag. “We’ve been here long enough.”

The two of you walked side by side, the damp air cool against your skin. Renjun tugged on the sling of his bag, his gaze distant, as though he had something on his mind. You didn’t press him, though you were wondering what was bothering him. It was unusual to see him so conflicted—Renjun, who was always so calm and composed.

You let the silence stretch, looking around the campus grounds. There was nothing you could think of saying, and it didn’t seem like Renjun was in the headspace to talk about anything either. But then he let out a deep sigh, making you glance at him.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, peeking at his face.

“Nothing, just…” he trailed off, his voice low with a hint of uncertainty. “Have you ever had a friend confess their feelings for you?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Uh, maybe? I mean, I think most of the people who confessed to me were my friends at first.”

In your mind, you were wondering if he was asking because of his conversation with Lia earlier.

His lips quirked in a faint smile, though his eyes stayed distant. “Yeah, I figured. It’s just... earlier, Lia said she liked me. Romantically.”

You knew that already. “Okay. What happened?”

“Apparently, she felt that we had a really good connection. She enjoyed hanging out with me and started liking me because I was nice and all that.”

You hummed, urging him to continue.

“It got me thinking, I should probably draw lines with friendship. As flattering as it was to be ‘liked’, I don’t really want to keep unintentionally leading people on,” he continued, tugging your jacket sleeves gently to veer you away from a puddle.

“That’s fine. You can do that,” you told him, your eyes lingering on his hand on your jacket. “But it’s not your fault if people get the wrong idea. There’s nothing wrong with you or your personality. That’s just how you are as a person.”

“You think so?”

You glanced up at him. “Yeah. But I do understand Lia though. It happens to some. Sometimes people catch feelings, even if they know they shouldn’t,” you chuckled, hoping Renjun wouldn’t notice you were literally talking about yourself.

“I don’t know,” he sighed, shrugging. “I wasn’t trying to make her like me like that. I’ve spent way more time with you than with her, but you don’t feel that way for me.”

You froze mid-step, your breath catching in your throat as a jolt of panic engulfed you. Your chest was tightening as if all the air was being sucked out of you. Renjun kept walking ahead, oblivious, until he realized you weren’t beside him

“What are you doing?” he asked and you couldn’t answer him, so you bit your lip nervously.

What should you do? Should you let his assumption slide? Or should you finally be honest and tell him what’s been bugging you all this time? What if you said something you couldn’t take back?

“Is something wrong?” he asked again, reaching for your shoulder.

“I-I…” you stammered, locking eyes with him. His gaze was steady, but your thoughts were a mess. You swallowed hard. “You’re wrong. I do feel that way.”

It was his turn to be stunned. His brows furrowed slightly, and his hand on your shoulder loosened as he looked at you with an unreadable expression. 

“Actually, I have felt that way before we even became friends,” you continued. Your chest tightened further, but there was no turning back now. “It was just a crush at first, but I got to know you and I just fell harder. I have feelings for you, Renjun and I don’t know what to do with it. I just know I had to tell you about it.”

Renjun still didn’t say anything, flustered and confused by your sudden confession. In your mind, you were screaming, hoping you could fast forward and skip this part because it was making you cringe with embarrassment. But you couldn’t back out—not now that you’d spilled everything out.

The two of you continued to stare at each other, seemingly communicating with your eyes but not coming to an understanding. Your mind raced with questions and possibilities, all pointing at Renjun and begging for him to finally say something. Every brain cell in your head was rioting, a chaos that was the complete opposite of the weighted silence stretching between you and Renjun.

And when his hand  slowly slipped away from your shoulder, you held your breath again, bracing yourself for what was about to come.

“I’m so sorry.”

Your heart sank to your stomach, and you released the breath you were holding. Those three words—though short and straightforward—were enough to sum up everything Renjun was about to say. You already knew what it meant, and despite the heavy weight settling on your chest at his words, you somehow hoped he’d surprise you with a plot twist.

“I swear I didn’t have any bad intentions,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I really just wanted to be friends with you. I didn’t realize…” He trailed off, letting out a heavy sigh.

You nodded, even though the words stung. He didn’t need to finish for you to understand. “It’s alright. I understand.”

He sighed your name out, shoulders sagging as if he couldn’t believe what was happening. You smiled, despite the turmoil in your head. It was hard to explain the mess of emotions swirling inside you—hurt, embarrassment, frustration—but you forced it down. You could handle this. You could take it like an adult.

“Renjun, it’s fineee,” you said, your voice a little lighter than you felt. You laughed softly, almost as if to convince yourself. “I said I wanted to tell you about it. I wasn’t asking you to reciprocate or anything.”

He still looked uncertain, his brows furrowed with that familiar concern you could never shake. But you didn’t want to drag this out any longer, didn’t want to let him see how much his words had hit you. It wasn’t his fault.

“Don’t worry about it, okay?” you added, giving him a small wave as if to dismiss the whole conversation. “We’re still friends. Nothing’s changed.”

Renjun hesitated for a moment, still looking at you like he wasn’t sure how to handle your response. You could tell he wasn’t completely convinced, and that made you want to reassure him more.

“Really,” you said with a shrug, “I’m fine. Let’s just go. I’m starving. I need to get home and make some food, otherwise I’d be eating takeout again for dinner.”

You both continued down the path, the sound of your footsteps against the wet pavement the only noise between you. Renjun didn’t say anything more, but you could feel his gaze on you, lingering with that worried expression. He was probably still processing everything. You could almost hear him overthinking it in his head, trying to figure out if he had somehow hurt you.

But for now, you were just grateful to keep moving. You had your pride, and you had your space. And for a moment, despite the mess of it all, you felt a small wave of relief.

You said you’d be fine, that nothing would change between you and Renjun. But as the last few days of the semester rolled around, you found yourself doing what any mature, emotionally stable woman would do—avoid him like the plague. You had a perfectly reasonable excuse—last-minute assignments and projects that seemed to always appear every end of semester. You were both swamped with coursework, so really, it wasn’t avoidance; it was just conveniently timed busyness. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

You also told yourself it was just temporary. You’d heal, bounce back, and return to being the friend who could sit across from Renjun without your stomach twisting into knots. After all, you were still friends. Nothing had changed, right?

Wrong. In the quiet moments, when there was nothing to distract you from your thoughts, the truth would play itself on a loop: it had changed. The ache that would creep in your chest was sharp and annoyingly persistent like a bad pop song stuck on repeat. No matter how hard you tried to bury it under denial, it kept rising to the surface, demanding to be felt.

When Renjun texted you, your responses were cheerful, using the same emojis and the same upbeat tone to mask the fact that your heart was broken. You couldn’t tell if he bought it, but since his replies sounded as casual as ever, you figured your performance deserved an Oscar. Or at least a participation trophy for effort.

Your roommates, Karina and Giselle, noticed it. They could tell something was off. You had always been the one who kept things light and bright, the one who filled the room with laughter and jokes. But now, they could see the small cracks. They could hear the silence that replaced your usual chatter, the way you kept to yourself more often. Even your jokes had gone from playful to suspiciously self-deprecating. 

“Girl, you don't look okay. Like, at all!” Giselle had told you once.

“This is fine,” you’d said with a lopsided grin. “I’m just living my sad rom-com arc. All I need now is a montage of me crying in the rain, but the weather isn’t cooperating.”

It was even more obvious to Jaemin, who, instead of teasing you or trying to get under your skin, seemed to have adopted a strategy of quiet support. He didn’t press you to talk, didn’t try to fix things, and—bless him—didn’t say, “I told you so”. You appreciated the space, but you also hated the awkwardness that had replaced his usual antics. You didn’t like it when he walked on eggshells around you, and it only made you feel worse.

“You know you can talk to us, right?” Karina offered again one night, her voice full of concern. “You don’t have to keep it all in.”

“Thanks, but really, I’m fine,” you said, waving her off with a half-hearted laugh. “This is character development. Pain builds personality, or something like that.”

Giselle handed you a tub of ice cream. “Here, have a snack while your character is developing.”

No amount of jokes or distractions could fully numb your heartache. You kept telling yourself you’d get through it, that it would pass, but every time you were alone with your thoughts, the weight settled back onto your chest. You weren’t sure how long you could keep pretending to be okay, but for now, the show had to go on.

Then, by the time spring break was around the corner, the heaviness in your chest had started to lift. It wasn’t gone entirely but it wasn’t as sharp as it had been two weeks ago. You were finding your way back to yourself already. Giselle even pointed it out one evening while you were packing for the trip home.

“Hey, look at you, humming again,” she teased, flopping onto your bed. “I was starting to think Renjun broke you for good.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled at her. “Oh please. He wasn’t even a fling. Being rejected by a crush wouldn’t break me,” you said, folding another shirt into your bag. “Besides, it’s my first spring break. I can’t walk out of this campus brokenhearted.”

“Aha, I see you’ve found your lost vigor for real fun.” Giselle gave you an approving nod, like a coach satisfied with her team’s performance. “Progress. I’ll take it.”

The next day, as you walked across campus for one last errand before heading home, you spotted Renjun. He was walking toward the library, balancing a stack of books in one hand and holding his bag in the other. You hesitated for a moment, instinctively considering walking in the opposite direction, but the impulse passed as quickly as it came.

You reminded yourself you were okay now—or at least getting there. Avoiding him would only keep you stuck, and besides, the two of you were still friends. Nothing had changed. Right?

“Hey,” you called out, jogging up to him.

Renjun turned at the sound of your voice, a small smile forming when he saw you. “Oh, hey! I thought you left already.”

“Not yet. I’m heading out later today,” you said, nodding at the books in his hand. “Still cramming in some last-minute reading?”

“No, I’m returning these,” he said with a chuckle. “What about you? Got big plans for spring break?”

You grinned. “Are you kidding me? Of course, it’s our first one as college students. You?”

He shrugged, trying to keep his tone light. “Just going home. Last night, my mom sent me a whole list of chores waiting for me when I get back.”

You laughed, and for a moment, it felt easy between you two again, like the past few weeks hadn’t happened.

“Are you okay?” he asked suddenly, his tone softening. “Sorry. I’ve been meaning to ask, but I thought it would be wrong to bring it up when we’re not face-to-face.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his question. For a moment, you thought about brushing it off, but you realized you didn’t need to. Not anymore. “I wasn’t,” you admitted with a small smile. “But only for a bit. I’m okay now. Really.”

Renjun studied your face, his expression unreadable, before he nodded. “Good. I’m glad.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, and for once, it wasn’t suffocating. It didn’t feel like something was left unsaid or hanging in the air.

“Well,” he said, shifting his bag on his shoulder, “I should get going. Have fun doing… whatever it is you do during spring break.”

You rolled your eyes but grinned. “You have fun with your chores too.”

“I don’t know if I will, but I’ll make sure to try,” he replied, chuckling. “Text me if you need anything though, okay? Or if you're bored, I don't know. Just... Feel free to talk to me whenever you want."

“I will,” you promised, waving as you walked away.

As you made your way across campus, you fished your phone out of your pocket, remembering that Karina once told you about a confessions page on X. It was called NCIT Campus Confessions, and after skimming through the posts, you typed in a submission of your own:

To HRJ, Maybe I will finally learn my lesson. -xx

You felt lighter. Maybe not entirely free from the disappointment, but enough to know that you’d be okay. After all, it wouldn’t do to carry heartache with you to a place as vibrant and alive as Aruba.

[To be continued in Wonderland]

[princesspastel8]

Chapter 1: Gravity Falls

Dipper POV

I stare out the window, holding the note Wendy gave me that day 12 years ago. After so long, those years of endless torture from my family, I can finally be free.

No, we can finally be free.

Bill....

Oh, how I missed that damn dream, demon. Years of planning and years of research. The moment weirdmaganen ended and gravity falls was back to normal, something in me felt off. I couldn't stop thinking about Bill.

All I wanted was Bill. The moment he took over my body filled me with so much desire when I got my body back. It's as if he left a piece of himself inside of me. A permanent reminder that I would always be his.

But of course, I was too young and stupid to understand such feelings. Those feelings for Wendy were my hormones raging for some form of attraction for anything that looked appealing. And Wendy took the cake.

I watch as the trees fly by the window of the bus. I yawn, taking a glance at Mable, who is bouncing in her seat next to me. For someone who's 25 years old, she sure still acts like a 13 year old.

Nothing really changed since the two of us left. I grew facial hair and gained a few inches over mable. Came out as gay to my parents, who completely disowned me. Mable was hardly ever in the picture during that time in my life. She was always out partying or hooking up with some guy.

But of course, she was always everyone's favorite. She lacked the awkwardness I gained that should have been equally split between the two of us! Honestly, I hate claiming her as my twin at times.

Her personality stayed the same as well. Still as selfish and naive as ever, which comes in handy at times. We grew distant when I started to change. I felt my personality grow darker compared to her sunshine and rainbows one.

People grew eerie of me by the time I turned 16. Rock music became my best friend, but I wasn't a punk rock emo gothic freak. Those depressed waste of space really piss me off. Maybe that's why I hated Robbie so much. All the fake angst and unnecessary anger grew annoying and out of place, in my opinion. Hopefully, he grew up and gained some balls since I've been gone.

The bullying at school ended once I learned how to fight and throw knives. Knives became my most favorite thing in the world. The sharp yet light blade, the different types of beautiful leather handles. I brought my whole collection with me.

Oh, I guess I forgot to mention I'm moving here. Coming out as gay to my parents while also adding that I'm not going to college really added to the hatred they now shared for me. But it didn't bother me, I left a little gift for the both of them under their bed. I guess I won't be hearing from them for the rest of my life. I chuckle to myself at the thought.

Mable looks at me, tilting her head to the side. "What's funny dip n dop?"

I jump, my smile now in a thin line, "Something you wouldn't understand, Mable."

"Oh, come on, Dipper! You never say anything to me!" She whines while shaking my shoulder aggressively.

One of the things I made clear to Mable over the years is to never touch me. I turn my head to look down at her frame, glaring into her eyes. "Don't. Touch. Me." I said through my teeth.

Mable quickly pulls away and looks down, nuzzling her head against waddles. "S-sorry Dipper. I always forget...."

I roll my eyes but smile and flick her forehead. "Whatever, cheer up. We're here."

Mable looks out the mirror and cheers, already up from her seat and running to the double doors of the bus. And I'm left with the bags, no surprise there. I carry my things on my back while placing her bags under my arms.

I walk off the bus with a sigh, still carrying our bags. Mable is currently in a group hug with Candy and Grenda. I notice Wendy patting her head with Robbie standing beside her. I raise an eyebrow at the rings on their fingers. I'm trying my best to hold back laughter. Those two got married?!

I glance back to Mable and see Pacifica. Her blonde hair is so bright that it's blinding. Standing next to her is Gideon. They didn't look much different, but at least gideon ditched that stupid suit. I finally noticed Soes and my Grunkles. Stan looked the same, but Stanford seemed to age a bit. Maybe stress from researching too much.

"Oh guys, I missed so you Much! And I'm so happy for you two!" Mable cheers, looking at Robbie and Wendy.

Robbie scratches the back of his head as a light blush tents around his cheeks. He looks down, pouting. "Whatever."

"Lighten up, Rob. And thanks, Mable. Never thought I would fall for him again. A lot has changed."

I chuckle, shaking my head at her words. "Damn right it has."

All eyes are on me now. I raise an eyebrow, shrugging my shoulder. "What?"

"Is that really you, Dipper Pines?" Gideon asks in shock.

"Oh wow, Dipper, nice glow up." Pacifica winks.

"Heh, you're finally taller than Mable. Congrats, man." Wendy said, walking over to me for a hug.

I laugh and hug back the best way I could since I'm carrying all of our bags. "Thanks, I guess."

"Kid finally got some muscle!" Stan cheers while patting me on my back. Stanford nods his head and smiles.

"Well, why are we just standing around here for? We have a surprise for you two, my dudes." Soos said while walking forward towards the mystery shake.

Once, Soos opens the door, Mable and I are greeted by cheers of happiness. "WELCOME BACK MYSTERY TWINS!"

Mable rushes in and hugs almost everyone while I stand there and simply wave. The party starts right after we arrive. I sigh, walking up the stairs with Stanford behind me.

"So how have you been, Dipper? Are there any plans for college?"

I shake my head, opening the first door to Mable's and I old room. "Nope. I see no reasoning in college when I'm one of the most bright minded people in this world. College would just be a waste of my brain and time." I said, ending with a yawn.

"You have a point, but having a college degree makes job seeking easier." He pointed out. "And by the way, this will be your own room. Mable has the other room across the hall."

I roll my eyes. Of course, she gets the bigger room - the same room we fought over that day. I smile, dropping my bags near my old bed. "That's great! Thanks, grunkle Ford."

"No problem. I am looking forward to making new discoveries with my great nephew again." He smiles and pats my shoulder. "I'll meet you back downstairs." He said while walking out.

I hum as I unload my things, fixing my room up to my liking. It didn't take long. All I have are my books, journals, knives, and necessities. I walk to Nable's room and throw her bags on the bed. This really is unfair, and it's getting under my skin.

I walk down the stairs, digging my nails into my skin while scratching my arm too hard. I grab a soda from the table and take my place in a corner of the room. While I observe everyone, I notice Pacifica glancing at Mable from time to time. I chuckle, taking a sip of my drink. I knew she had a thing for my twin sister. That'll come in handle one day.

I look to my right, catching Candy and Gideon staring at me. They both quickly turn their heads, faces covered in blush. Does Candy still have that stupid crush on me? Ugh, that'll be annoying, but what's the deal with Gideon?

Candy begins to walk towards me, her smile determining but her eyes nervous. "Hello, Dipper."

"Hm." I said, taking another sip of my drink.

"So how have you been these past years? Have a girlfriend, maybe?"

I chuckle, looking down at her. "Cutting right to the chase, huh?"

She blushes and laughs. "How can I not? You've grown extremely attractive since I last saw you."

"It's called puberty candy. And I was 13 the last time you saw me. I'm 25 now."

She nods her head, "Yes....so I was wondering... now that we both matured..if you wanted to give us a try?"

I try my best to hold back my laughter. Gideon stared at us the whole time, jealously. Hurting her feelings would bring joy, but I can't give my true self away.

"Sorry to break it to you, Candy, but I don't swing that way."

Her eyes widen as if they're being squeezed out of her eyesockets. "YOU'RE GAY?!" She shouts loud enough for everyone to hear.

I sigh heavily, all eyes on us. I did not want this type of attention. I didn't want the whole town knowing I enjoy dick up my ass. That's none of their business. Now I'm regretting not telling her in the harshest way that even if I weren't gay, and if she was the last woman on earth, I'd rather die than to be left alone in her presence.

"You're what Dipper?" Wendy asks a bit taken aback herself, which is understandable.

"Oh wow, dude. Never thought you'd go that way." Soos pips in.

Pacifica didn't seem like she cared. I'm pretty sure it's because of her secret as well. Gideon, on the other hand, looks hopeful. The thought of hooking up with him actually makes my flesh crawl.

I chug down the rest of my drink, crushing the can with my hands. This was so annoying and stupid. "Yes, I'm gay. It's 2019 people. Keep up with the times, and if you have a problem with it, then -" I was cut off by a loud phone ringing.

Stanford and grunkle Stan shake from their shock, and Stan picks up the phone. "What is it?" He answers rudely.

"Yes, that's me. Now that do you -......what?!" He shouts, his eyes filling with dread and grief. "Ok....Thank you. Bye."

Stan ends the phone call, pulling Stanford to the side. He told him whatever the news was, his demeanor shifting. My gunkles turn to both me and Mable, who looks really worked up. "What is it grunkle Stan? What's the matter?" She questions.

"Kids....there's no good way I can say this but, you're parents are dead. A bomb was placed under their bed, and it went off the moment they both laid down....the police have no idea who could've done this. The house is completely destroyed.

The shack is filled with gaps and apologetic expressions towards the Pines family. Mable breaks down into tears, falling to her knees. I force myself to look as hurt as I can. I reach down to lift Mable up, trying to calm her down. Luckily, her friends helped.

Once the news settled, and everyone left, the party is shut down. Robbie, Wendy, Pacifica, Candy, Grenda, and Gideon offer to stay and help clean while Mable, and I head to bed. Mable wishes me goodnight, pulling me into a tight hug.

My face remains blank, but I hug her nonetheless. "Just get some rest tomorrow, mable. They're find who did that to our parents.."

Lies.

She nods her head and pulls away. She walks into her room as I do the same. I sit down on the edge of my bed, reaching for one of my journals. Before I can open it, the door to my room opens. I quickly place it under my blanket, turning around to face who's at my door. It's just my Grunkles.

"Hey Dipper, how are you holding up?" Stan asks while sitting to my right.

I nod my head, staring at my hands.

Stanford sits to my left, rubbing his hand up and down my back in a soothing motion. "We know you're trying to stay strong for Mable, but it's alright to cry."

What am I, five? I nod my head as tears begin to fall. "Wh-who could have done this?" I ask, my voice cracking.

Stanford and Stan pull me into a hug as I sob. "It's ok, Dipper. You and Mable will stay with us. We're here for you guys. Everyone is." Stanford said.

I nod my head, pulling away from the both of them. "Th-Thanks you two....but I would like to be alone right now."

They both nod their heads. "We understand, Dipper. We all need time, and it's ok that you're gay. We still love you the same." Stan said before standing and leaving the room.

"If you need us, we'll be downstairs." Stanford said.

I nod my head, watching them leave. I stand and walk to my door, locking it. I rush to my bed and jump in it, pulling out my journal from under my blanket. I lay on my back, opening the journal. Tears still falling from my eyes, I gently glaze my hands over the first page. Bill's circle. I feel my frown quickly stretch into a smile as I turn to the second page, Bill's human form.

Oh, how he looks so godly. How tan he is, that damn bright yellow tux. Those sparkling locks of hair that I could run my fingers through all day. His twisted smile, I can just hear his laugh bouncing inside my skull.

I place the journal on my chest as I start to laugh. I start from chuckling to heavy cackling. I place a hand over my mouth so my laughter won't be heard throughout the shack. The rush of soon seeing Bill taking completely over me. I slowly close my eyes, thinking of the little song he used to play.

Don't know where

Don't know, wheeeeeen~

Til we meet again...

"Some sunny day...."

"Haha! See ya soon, Pinetree!~"

[heartfullofleeches]

Incel, femcel, or themcel. We just need a greasy, chronically online mean person to be a yandere. Any ideas on how that would work?

(The best idea I could come up with is streamer reader)

Livestream began twelve minutes ago.

"Oh? Shit, is that V? What's up, buddy- welcome back."

You're so perfect. Near a quarter of an hour late, and you still grace them with a greeting. They knew you weren't like the others they wasted their time on. No, you're kind. Inviting. God they loved you so much.

V stumbled across your channel on night during a drunken relapse into pouring their hours into viewing the lives of random strangers online. It was all they had to do after work with none of the potential partners they messaged ever responding to their texts or calls. Their lost.

You were in the beginning period of streaming with only ten followers to your name; majority likely close friends and family. V planned on giving "light" critic of your performance, but something about the brightness in your eyes as they joined the stream sobered them up and glued them to their seat completely.

"Hi, welcome. Your name is actually too long to fix on the screen. Is it cool if I just call you V?"

And they were hooked on you ever since.

Little by little, your fanbase grew to the comfortable size it was today; your first real viewer front and center for each recording. Despite the boost in popularity, you never forgot those who gave it to you in the first place. V likes to think they're the most valued member with their donations and the equipment they sent once they had convinced you to open a p.o box. Shame they never pin pointed the location before you announced your move and had it closed.

"Since you're here. I can try on that jacket you sent me before I finish packing. It's so cute."

V wipes specks of drool off their screen as you sort through a cardboard box and slip the coat on. You were wearing something they touched. Fuck, you're so cute they could just devour you alive. With no roomates, they could get away with licking their phone unlike last time, but they refrained from said temptation for now. Cat ears sprout atop your head as you pull the hoodie on. You rub your shoulders as the jacket's interior snuggles your frame.

"Whoa, much warmer than I expected. I might wear it during my flight."

You better. Since you forced the thought into their head, if they see you with anything else in your photos they might blow a gasket. Just imagining random commentors wondering where you got the coat and you answering with a nod at their existence gave V the ego boost of a lifetime.

"It's getting kinda late. We'll do some more chatting then I gotta bounce for the night."

V watches the rest of your stream with the loudest voice of the crowd. They wait until it ends to begin their nightly routine of screenshotting their favorite moments of the stream. The highlight was a frame of you posing like a cat following another's chatters request. Having so many pests ruined some of their enjoyment, but times like this they'd let slide. For now.

-

V sits alone at the bus stop the following day. The prized picture taken previously was now their lockscreen photo. The fifth change in the last two days. A creature like you was bound to have unworthy trash throwing themselves at your feet daily, but they knew that with your history it would only take one hello for you to fall as madly in love with them as they were you. You're different like that. If only they could meet you.

V is pulled from their moment of bliss by a tap on their shoulder; scowl ready for whoever dragged them from heaven - until they see whose standing in front of them.

"Hi, I hope I'm not bothering you, but do you know if this bus goes to this street? My taxi didn't drive out that far apparently...."

The stranger blinks, cat ears shifting.

"Sorry- have we met before? You seem familiar. "

[bradshawssugarbaby]

I'd like to request "Are you hurt?" and "Don't touch me." with walter marshall. Thank you!

oooh this one was harder to write, but I hope I did it justice!

Walter furrowed his brows, giving you a disapproving stare. You didn't fight often, it was a rare occurrence when you did anything more than disagree politely. In fact, it was so rare for you to fight, that when you did, you were caught completely off guard. You'd gotten into an argument over Walter's attitude the past couple of days. He'd been withdrawn - more so than usual, and miserable. You knew he was never the most cheerful or bubbly person out there, but this was odd, even for him. He was normally very gentle with you - stoic and reserved, sure, but never temperamental with you. He often found comfort in you - your presence a calming beacon for him when his work as a homicide detective became too much to handle some days. "What is your problem, Walter? It's like I can't even fucking talk to you," you shouted, shaking your head.

"I don't have a problem, darling."

The way he said darling stung, dripping with condescending sarcasm, a cold hostility added to the nickname he so often used with deep affection towards you. Your eyes narrowed as you set the dish you were drying down on the counter, throwing the tea towel down beside it.

"Then will you please stop being such an asshole?"

Walter's blue eyes widened in disbelief at your boldness. He frowned further, eyes glaring at her. He refused to respond, instead stomping away, storming off to the living room in brooding silence. You sighed in frustration, shaking your head with an exasperated sigh. Walter's ignorance towards you was almost painful. You craved his touch, his attention, and being starved of it because of whatever had triggered his bad mood was making your night almost unbearable.

A couple of hours of not speaking to one another had passed by, the deafening silence beginning to choke out the room, making it harder and harder to avoid it. You tried watching tv in the bedroom, avoiding Walter entirely. You'd tried scrolling social media on your phone, praying some silly little animal video would drag a giggle out of you, you'd even attempted to listen to a podcast to try and fill the void with something, anything that distracted from the quiet. Finally, unable to find anything mind-numbing to distract you, you resorted to trying to take care of a few household tasks that were overdue, neglected because of your demanding careers.

As you stood on a step ladder, hammering a nail into the wall to hang a photo, you listened for footsteps to see if Walter would come to investigate what you were doing, curious about the sounds coming from the bedroom. Unfortunately for you, he couldn't seem to be less bothered. You took a swing at the nail again, but foolishly forgot to slide your thumb two millimeters to the left, bringing the face of the hammer down directly onto your unsuspecting finger. You let out a yelp along with a string of curse words. Stepping down off of the step ladder, you turned to head to the kitchen to fetch some ice but instead walked directly into Walter's broad shouldered frame.

"Are you hurt?" He said softly, frowning at her.

"I'm fine."

"You yelled."

"So?"

"So, are you hurt? Why are you holding your hand like that?"

His brows knit together in concern for you, shaking his head. He offered his hand out to you, reaching to take your injured hand in his to check it over, trying to gauge how badly you'd managed to hurt yourself. As his hand brushed against yours, you yanked it back, reacting to his touch as if you'd just stuck your hand into a fire, scorched from the heat.

"Don't touch me."

Walter frowned at your reaction, dropping his hand to his side. He shook his head as he walked off, disappearing once again. You were just about to start yelling at him, demanding to know why he refused to speak to you, when he returned holding a sandwich bag filled with ice cubes. He held it out to you, his eyes soft and pleading, as if he was making an offering of peace to you, waving his white flag of surrender.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, his blue eyes looking down at your hand, watching as you placed the ice over your throbbing thumb, "I've had a rough few days and nights with work, this case is driving me mad, and I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

"You really shouldn't have," you began before letting out a sigh, "I'm sorry. I should have probably been a little bit more compassionate towards you."

"It's fine, darling," he said softly, his chestnut brown curls shaking as he gave a nod of his head, "Am I forgiven?"

"I suppose. But only if you go finish hanging that picture I wanted in the bedroom. Clearly I can't wield hand tools when I'm upset."

"You can't wield hand tools when you're happy either, to be fair," he smirked, the first smirk you'd seen on his face in the last week.

[gorgonwrites]

bound to you, (part 5)

diluc x fem!reader

wc: 3, 178

author's note: a woman scorned is the most dangerous creature in all of Teyvat. all aboard the angsty express!!

CW: fem! reader, angst, hurt/comfort ig??, diluc WILL run away from you and his feelings if you let him, reader is lowkey a crybaby, oral (male receiving), temperature play sorta kinda, switch! diluc vibes, switch!reader, mentions of diluc having pretty bad anxiety, reader is a badass tbh. WHY IS DILUC SO EMO UGH. also i forgot horses aren't really a thing in genshin but just indulge me here ok

Diluc couldn’t sleep. The events of the last few hours were playing on a loop in his head, and he could feel his anxiety raising its ugly head to greet him. He was convinced he had gone too far this time. Birds faintly began chirping outside his window, signaling him to get out of bed. He sat on the edge, turning back to catch a glimpse of your sleeping frame. You were completely sprawled out, his blanket tangled between your legs from your constant tossing and turning. He reached his hand out to brush your jaw, but stopped himself. 

He was a man starved of affection and he knew it was his own doing. He convinced himself long ago that he was to walk a path of perpetual unhappiness in his life. The loneliness he felt hardly bothered him until the proposal of his marriage to you was finalized and you marched into his life. You had quickly revived the winery, his staff, and ultimately him as well. After agreeing to marry you so he could cement new intelligence contacts in Fontaine, falling for you didn’t even cross his mind. Yet here you were, in his bed sleeping peacefully after he practically begged you to let him love you. This is getting dangerous. He wasn’t the type of man to run away, and he couldn’t think of much that actually scared him. But he couldn’t deny the fear simmering in his chest. He quietly got dressed, working slowly so he didn’t wake you. The sky was just beginning to light and with one last quick look at your sleeping face, he left his room and closed the door gently behind him. 

You were woken up gently by the sunlight streaming in through Diluc’s window and onto your face. You basked in its warmth for a moment, last night’s endeavor hazily playing through your mind. You gently reached your arm out expecting to feel your husband’s warm body next to you, but it met the mattress instead. You turned over to realize you were alone in the room and you sat up with a start. You sat for a moment taking the room in bit by bit, and recalled Adelinde once telling you that Diluc was an extremely early riser. You were not, and decided that he had left the room to let you sleep through the early morning peacefully. 

“Master Diluc had business at Angel’s Share today, I believe.” you sat once again at the breakfast table, dumbfounded. Adelinde was clearing the dishes when you finally asked her if she had seen your husband.

“But he said he didn’t have anything to do for the next few weeks.” you said flatly, trying to hide your disappointment from her. You felt lied to.

“Sometimes things come up at the tavern suddenly. Rather than ask another employee to ride into town to cover, he does it himself if he’s home. It keeps him busy.” she looked at you apologetically, catching onto the distress that was building underneath your skin. 

“But,” you felt tears prick the corner of your eyes, “I’m here. We could keep ourselves busy together.” the tears started spilling down your cheeks and Adelinde rushed to your side, dabbing at your face with a handkerchief. 

“Don’t let this make you unhappy, my Lady.” she whispered, “Give him time.” you snatched the handkerchief and quickly pushed yourself from the table, startling her. You stood up and looked at her with bloodshot eyes.

“Do not mistake my tears for sadness, Adelinde. I am angry. I feel like I take two steps towards him and he takes seven steps away from me. I don’t know how much longer my heart can handle the nonsense he continues to display.” wiping your tears, you continued. “Did he say when he would return?”

“No , my Lady, he rarely ever does. I’d suspect that since he’s at the Tavern that he’ll be back tonight.” Good. You were ready to give him a piece of your mind. Innocent intentions or not, he continued to break the promises he made you without warning. You were his wife, yes, and you mostly did what was asked of you. But he was your husband, and you were done letting him run away from you.

It was close to midnight, and you had been sitting by the front door of the manor for hours. Your arms crossed against your chest, you stared aimlessly out of the window waiting to see your husband’s figure appear out of the darkness. When he never came, your anger began to boil just under the surface. Without thinking, you pulled your cloak off of the hook across from you and threw it over your shoulders. You’d drag him back if you had to. You quietly made your way out to the stables to saddle up your favorite horse. Adelinde came sprinting out of the manner wearing only her nightdress and a robe, reaching you as you mounted your horse. 

“My Lady! My Lady it’s too dark for you to be out right now, just the other day Elzer and the boys had to clear out a nearby hilichurl camp. We don’t know if they’re all gone yet-” you scoffed, realizing no one treated you competently here at the winery. 

“I am not a child, Addy,” you hissed, “I am the Lady of this house and I will go where I please, when I please. My husband seems to do that quite often. Maybe I can learn a thing or two if I adopt that habit of his.” she backed away from you. You caught yourself, not wanting to take your anger out on her. “I’m going to find Master Diluc, Adelinde. If I fail, you will help me gather my belongings and I will be headed back to Fontaine by dawn. Am I clear?” she shook her head, frozen in place. “Good.” 

Diluc slumped over the counter at Angel’s Share, exhausted, and watched as Charles continued to clean the tavern before leaving. He had spent the whole day there wrestling with his emotions, trying to logically work through each of them. Keeping himself busy always helped him manage his anxiety. This time, though, it felt like it was eating him alive. He felt as though something had dislodged in his chest and was rapidly trying to claw its way out, no matter how hard he tried to keep it in place. As he began to reorganize the liquor behind the counter to prepare for the following day, a commotion began outside. Groaning, he started towards the door to handle the situation. The door flew open before he was halfway there though, and he was met with your wild, fiery gaze. Your hair was a mess and you had several fresh cuts on your arms, and it looked like you’d been caught in a late summer rain shower because you were soaked. 

“Y/n?” Diluc felt his anxiety melt away, quickly being replaced by anger rising  in his chest. Only the Gods knew what creatures were crawling in the shadows on your way here, and he felt something finally snap inside of him. 

“What the Hell are you doing here? Why are you not at home?” he could feel his face getting hot, desperately trying to control his tongue. 

“That’s Lady y/n to you, young Master.” you hissed. “I’m here to drag my husband home where he belongs.” you were out of breath, and your tone sent a dagger through Diluc’s chest. You straightened up and brushed the dirt from your dress, trying to put up an icy wall to resist how seeing your husband made you feel. He reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose and you could tell he was getting angry. 

“Continuing to push my boundaries, I see.” his voice sounded labored, like he was exerting a generous amount of self control. “You think it’s a game, but look at you! What happened?” That’s what he was concerned about? His rules? You scoffed in response, throwing your arms in the air.

“You’re concerned about rules right now, Master Diluc? About controlling your little wife? Don’t make me laugh.” tears were stinging your eyes and you tried desperately to not let them fall. “Here I thought you were concerned about me, that maybe you were beginning to care for me. I see now that you’re more interested in keeping me in a cage like a pet, only taking me out when it suits you.” your voice was shaky. “You have no idea what I’m capable of, do you? I’m not a child! You’d know that I’m much more powerful than you realize if you would just take the time to ask. I dealt with three Godsdamned hilichurls on the way here, and got rid of an Abyss mage at the gates because the knights on guard weren’t capable enough.”  Diluc stared at you, speechless. He had underestimated you, yes. But it didn’t change that this marriage put you at a greater risk than a few hilichurls and a lone Abyss mage. 

“Have you ever bothered to ask me why I have tried to set these boundaries with you?” he whispered. You were about to spit your anger at him again, but stopped and realized that you had indeed never asked him the reasoning behind his rules. “No, you haven’t. I’d divulge every detail if it meant you’d stop pushing my limits every damned day. But you’ve never asked. Not once. You don’t know a damn thing about the life that I’ve lived or the world that I know. Don’t pretend that you’d last more than a day.” his voice was rising with each sentence, and he was still desperately trying to control himself. You were right in front of him in an instant, jabbing your finger into his broad chest. 

“That’s what I came to your chambers for last night, you know! I want every detail that you’re willing to give me. Everything! But instead, you spent half the damn night asking, no, begging me to let you love me.” you could feel the tears start to fall but you continued, “You confuse me! And I don’t know how much more I can withstand. I’m too lonely and restless here. There’s so much of this nation I have yet to see because you’re always gone and I never leave the estate. If I take one step towards you and our marriage, you take three leaps away from me with no regard to how it may make me feel.” you could feel Diluc’s hands wrapping around you but you pulled away, unwilling to give him the satisfaction. 

“You don’t deserve love from a man like me. And I don’t deserve the kindness you show me.” he whispered, staring at the floor. His anger was fading now, replaced as always by his ever present anxiety. It was clawing its way out of his chest and he could feel it reaching every inch of his body, and he felt like he was falling. You sighed and pushed your damp hair out of your face. Was he always going to be this stubborn? 

“You don’t get to make that decision for me, Diluc. I show kindness to those I care for. Do not rob me of yet another choice to make.” to your surprise, your voice was softening. “And I think I know more than you give me credit for.” Diluc’s eyes snapped to yours, his brows furrowing. “I- I snooped a little in your room this afternoon. I found the journal you kept while you were in Snezhnaya.” you looked away from your husband, unsure of how he’d react to you going through his personal belongings. 

“And you still came to find me after reading all of that?” his voice was the one shaking now, making you look at him again. He had a pained look on his face. “I didn’t want you to know that side of me. And I didn’t want you wrapped up in any of the intelligence work I do. I don’t want you to be exposed to that side of this world.” that made you smile. Silly man. He obviously had no idea what family you came from, and had no grasp on the network your father had built between each of the seven nations of Teyvat. Maybe he knew a bit, and you knew that it was part of your marriage agreement. 

“You don’t need to shelter me, you know.” you cooed, reaching up to brush his face with your fingers. “I know much more about this world than you realize. I’m not someone that needs such fierce protection either.” you stood up on your tiptoes and gently grabbed the back of Diluc’s neck, forcing him to bend so you could place a gentle kiss on his cheek. Your anger was quickly evaporating, and was being replaced by overwhelming arousal. He groaned at the contact, placing his hands on your hips and kissing your neck. 

“I didn’t say you could touch me.” you whispered into his ear. He straightened up immediately, removing his hands from your hips only to bring one to his face to hide how red he was. You snickered. It was your turn to take care of your husband. “Oh, and Charles?” you looked over your shoulder, “You may go now. Thank you so much for the work that you do. I’ll see to it that you receive a small bonus for the trouble tonight.” you smiled, and the man behind you scurried out of the door instantly. 

“Fuck. I forgot he was here.” Diluc breathed, not taking his eyes off of you. “We can stay here tonight. I- I have a spare room upstairs that I use from time to time when I’m too tired to ride back to the manor.” finally he was speaking with some sense. You nodded, and began gently pushing him towards the back door. For a man claiming to be too cruel to deserve your love, he felt like putty in your hands. He led you upstairs to a quaint room that overlooked the courtyard beside the tavern, and you gently pulled at his shoulders so he sat at the edge of the bed in front of you. You reached behind him to let his hair down and pushed it out of his face. He sighed and leaned into your touch, closing his eyes to savor the moment.

“I don’t deserve you.” he whispered. You rolled your eyes and tightly gripped his jaw to make him look at you. 

“You think too much. Has anyone ever told you that?” you smiled, teasing him with the same sentiment he shared with you yesterday afternoon. He wrapped his arms around you, pushing his face into your chest in hopes that you wouldn’t see his reddened cheeks. You card your hands through his long hair, pressing your lips to the crown of his head. “Let me take care of you tonight.” You push your husband back and reach for his hands. Bringing one to your lips, you hold Diluc’s gaze as you remove his glove and kiss his palm. You do the same with the other and then begin unbuttoning his coat. He watches you in careful silence, letting you work. When you lift his shirt off of him, he finally speaks. 

“You don’t have to do this, angel. And I want to clean up your arms- I’m worried about those cuts.” you looked at your arms. They were fresh cuts from your run in with the hilichurls, yes, but they weren’t deep. You’d actually forgotten about them, and you knew he was trying to distract you. 

“That won’t work this time,” you continued undressing him, reaching for his belt. “And I can feel just how excited you are.” your hand slid down to palm the bulge in his pants, immediately making your husband suck in a shaky breath. “That’s what I thought.” He reached out to you to cup the side of your face but you batted his hand away. “Hands to yourself. No touching.” a whine escaped from Diluc’s lips as he brought his hand back to his side. 

“You’re not being fair, angel.” you’d never seen him pout before. He looked like a spoiled child and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“It’s my turn to make the rules.” as the words left your lips, you released his cock from his trousers. It bobbed in place, wet precum already dripping from the tip. Diluc’s breathing became increasingly labored as he anticipated your touch. You knelt between his spread legs, not looking away from your husband’s length. There was no way you’d fit the entire thing in your mouth and you began to imagine yourself bouncing up and down your husband’s cock, filled to the brim. Grabbing the base, you gave the tip a small lick. Diluc let out a delicious moan, throwing his head back. 

That reaction was all you needed. You gripped his cock with both hands and began moving them up and down, dragging groans and whines from Diluc as you worked. You opened your mouth and began suckling at the tip, swirling your tongue around to lap up the precum that continued to spill over. Your husband’s breathing began to quicken and he couldn’t keep still. You reached out to pinch his side, signaling that you’d stop if he didn’t behave. He let out another half-choked whimper, stilling underneath you. You stopped to look up at him.

“Good boy.” he couldn’t stop the strangled cry that left his mouth, falling backwards onto the bed. You continued to work his cock with your hands and mouth relentlessly, sending him closer and closer to the edge. 

“I can’t angel, I’m about to-” you cut him off. 

“You can.” he yelped when your fingertips went cold, sending goosebumps across his skin. You wrapped your lips around his cock again and reached your hands up to his chest. His breath hitched, trying not to shrink away from your frozen touch. 

“Y/n I can’t, oh Gods-” Diluc sounded frantic. “Gonna come, fuck-” your hands shot back down to the base of his cock and you sped up. With a loud cry Diluc grabbed a fistful of your hair and fucked into your face, his load shooting down the back of your throat. His movement slowed and you let his now softening cock fall from your mouth, strings of saliva connecting your lips and the tip. You let go of his length, content and tired. As you rose to your feet and turned towards the washbasin to grab something to clean your husband up, he roughly grabbed your waist and pulled you back, shoving you onto the bed underneath him. He was on you instantly, attacking your neck and any exposed skin that was available to him. You gasped in response, wrapping your legs around his waist. 

“My turn.” he growled in your ear,  sending a shockwave straight to your core.

I AM SO SORRY FOR THE END i was worried this part was getting too long!! i am working on part six at this very moment!! xx

[polkadotsocks1993]

Family Matters

Modern Aemond x Reader, Modern Aegon (platonic) x Reader

Summary: You have a predicament. In desperation, you turn to your brother-in-law, Aegon. Hilarity ensues.

Going back to King's Landing for Christmas was always an event.

Your mother in law, Alicent, and your sister in law, Rhaenyra, went all out with Christmas; there was always tons of food, lots of games, and, thanks to Aegon, usually a lot of alcohol.

You and Aemond had eloped six months ago, much to the family's chagrin, but you had never been one for big weddings, and because you didn't have a good relationship with your family, you had never wanted a big wedding in the first place. You and Aemond had decided to go to Colorado and elope in the Rockies, and despite his families protests (for some reason, all of them love weddings), they welcomed you with open arms.

The first few days of your trip, however, something was just off. You woke up with a pounding headache, completely nauseous. That first morning, sleeping in Aemond's childhood bedroom, you gasped in pain as he tried to grab your breast from behind you. Then, the most damning suspicion of all came when the two of you went down for breakfast, and the smell of Alicent and Helaena's cinnamon rolls (your favorite thing in the world), made you sick enough that you ran to the powder room and violently got sick.

Then, you mentally calculated the last period you had.

No. Oh, no.

You had to be discreet about this. Aemond was a fantastic husband, but neither of you had talked about pregnancy much. Sure, you knew you wanted kids eventually, but you two were newlyweds.

You slipped out of the bathroom, thinking you'd managed to compose yourself, until Aegon came up behind you.

"How much egg nog did you drink? You can't possibly be hungover are you?"

You froze. He'd heard you. He'd heard that undignified display. You mentally cursed.

"Aegon, I need you to do something for me, but you have to promise me, like really promise, that you won't tell anyone." You pleaded.

He grinned before looking at you more seriously. "Wait, you aren't kidding."

"No, Aegon, I'm not. Keep your voice down." You whispered. You grabbed Aegon and drug him into Viserys' office.

You sighed. "I need you to take me to the store."

"Why? Why can't I tell anyone?" Aegon asked.

"Because, I don't need anyone to know... Even though I'm pretty sure I know the answer." You replied.

"The answer to what?" Aegon was curious now, you could see it.

"I think I'm pregnant." You said, pinching the bridge of your nose.

Aegon's eyes widened, his mouth agape in surprise.

"And you thought I would be the best person to come to?" Aegon asked.

"No, but you heard that whole display and I don't need too many people asking questions unless I'm sure." You replied.

"Fair enough, that tracks. Go get your coat, I'll come up with some weird excuse." Aegon said.

You managed to get your coat and sneak out the front door, since everyone was in the kitchen. You sent a quick text to Aemond telling him that Aegon had wanted to go get more alcohol to play a drinking game that night, and he needed an extra hand. You hoped that he'd buy it, since it wasn't out of the ordinary for you to be drug along on whatever weird side quest Aegon had. The ride to the store was mostly silent, until Aegon turned and asked.

"So, you know you can't prevent this kind of thing, right?"

"Yes, Aegon! I know!" You huffed.

"Well, how did it happen?" He asked.

"I don't know. If I can guess, probably that vacation Aemond and I took to New Orleans. The time frame fits, and I forgot my birth control, and we both got so drunk..." You trailed off.

Aegon burst out laughing. "Aemond got drunk? Like, actually drunk?"

"We both did." You said.

"And you forgot to take your birth control?" Aegon asked.

"I thought I'd be fine!" You exclaimed.

"And he didn't bother to pull out?" You hated when Aegon made sense.

"WE WERE DRUNK!" You said, throwing your hands in the air.

Aegon was laughing hysterically. "I don't know whether to laugh hysterically at this whole blunder, or be excited."

"We messed up." You said.

"Or, counterpoint, you have a cool vacation souvenir." Aegon replied.

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

Upon going to the store, you grabbed three different pregnancy test boxes. You had to be sure, and Aegon could not stifle his laugh as you demanded he sneak you around to the guest house in the back of the main house when you arrived back to your in-laws' home. You went into the bathroom, following the directions, and laid four tests out on the counter, pacing back and forth.

"The pacing isn't going to change your result." Aegon said, leaning against the door frame.

"I know, but I'm nervous. What if Aemond isn't happy about it?" You asked.

Aegon sighed, and in a rare moment of seriousness, grabbed your shoulders.

"Y/N, whatever happens, my brother loves you. And you love him. And this crazy family you married into... We're going to support you. Aemond has wanted a family since he was a little kid. He's gonna be thrilled." He said.

You hugged him, taking a deep breath.

"I'm too nervous. Please read them for me." You said, shaking hands.

Aegon nodded, taking the first test, flipping it over. Then the other three.

You closed your eyes. "Well?"

"Those are the most positive pregnancy tests I've ever seen." Aegon said, "You're definitely pregnant."

You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding, until a voice stopped you in your tracks.

"You're pregnant?"

You and Aegon both turned to see Luke standing there, mouth agape.

"What are you doing here?" You asked.

"Mom sent me in here to go grab her sweater." Luke said.

"Luke, you cannot tell anyone yet." You said grabbing him by the arms.

"Are you kidding me? I can't keep a secret like that! You know one look from Aemond and I'm done. I can't lie!" He exclaimed.

"Luke, as your uncle, I'm telling you right now, if you tell Aemond, I will hang you upside down from the balcony." Aegon said.

"I'll try. I can't promise, but I'll try, okay?" Luke said.

You sighed. "At least, until tonight. Can you make it till then?"

You looked at the boy's face and knew he probably couldn't. Luke was nearly incapable of lying and it was actually quite funny in most circumstances.

Except, right now.

You threw the pregnancy tests in the trash, hoping to hide them. The three of you walked out, hoping you could keep the secret.

-----------

Turns out, keeping the secret was way, way harder than you thought.

Every time you walked into the kitchen, you felt bile rise in your throat. The charcuterie board that Rhaenyra laid out every year made you nearly turn green. The smell of the refrigerator was almost too much.

And every single moment you got alone with Aemond, you had to pretend like it didn't hurt when he stuck a hand under your shirt.

"Are you alright?" Aemond asked, "you seem really preoccupied."

"I'm fine, I promise." You lied.

You had to pretend like the movements Aemond made during the afternoon quickie in his childhood bathroom didn't make you sick, like the smell of his cologne (one you loved) didn't turn your stomach.

Poor Luke had scrambled to the basement with Joffrey and the younger kids, hoping that he could keep a lid on the secret until you gave the okay. The poor kid was avoiding Aemond at every turn.

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

At dinner, all hell broke loose.

Everyone was there: Rhaenyra and her husband, Harwin, Daemon and his wife, Laena, and their two girls. Alicent, Viserys, Otto, Helaena, Aegon, and all the other cousins.

To top it off, just looking at the food in front of you sent you running to the bathroom. Aegon stood outside the bathroom, offering you a cool drink of water to quell the nausea seeping into your bones.

You went back to your seat on the table, feeling Aemond's glance on you.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"I had a gas station hot dog while I was out with Aegon and it didn't agree with me." You lied. You hated lying, but then you noticed Aemond notice Luke's constant fidgeting, and his eye narrowed.

"Luke? What's the matter with you?"

Luke looked white as a ghost, blinking heavily. "Nothing at all."

You knew Aemond's expression. He knew something was up, but he wasn't sure what. Aemond turned to you, then to Luke, and then, to Aegon. He was connecting pieces, but he didn't have the full picture yet.

"Now that everyone is here." Daemon interrupts the conversation, "I feel like I need to ask a question. I was in the guest house earlier, and I found something interesting in the garbage."

Oh, no. You looked to Aegon, who was chugging his wine, and to Luke who looked about as nauseous as you did.

"I'm gonna come out with it: Laena, are you pregnant?"

Laena choked on her water, looking at her husband. "No, no I am not, Daemon."

Daemon looked around, "Rhaenyra?"

"That's oddly invasive, Daemon, but no I am not."

Daemon turns to Helaena, who cannot hold back laughter.

"Uncle do you really think I'd be able to hide that?"

"Alright, then who the hell is pregnant?" Daemon asked.

You turned to Luke, then to Aegon, and then to Aemond, who had gotten the final piece in the puzzle and the realization dawned on him.

"It's mine!" You exclaimed.

Everyone looked at you, mouths agape.

"It's mine. Aemond, I was going to tell you, but I wanted it to be a little more quiet when I did." You said sheepishly, "I hope you're not upset."

"Why would I be upset?" Aemond asked. You could see panic on his features, but he stayed remarkably calm.

"We've just never talked about it, and I just wasn't sure..."

"Y/N, this is the best news. Really. You didn't have to hide it from me." Aemond says, but then he looks to Luke and Aegon.

"You two knew, didn't you?"

"Yes." Luke says, without hesitation, "she said she wanted to tell you first, so I avoided you."

"You know, Aemond, you can pull out, it's an option." Aegon says.

"Oh, Aegon, really? Now?" Alicent huffs, "But, this is great news. I am so excited for you two!"

"This is wonderful!" Viserys exclaims.

You nervously sat back, but then got a whiff of the Christmas roast on the table. You took a swallow, nausea creeping up again.

"Would you like to sit somewhere else, love?" Aemond asks.

"Yes. Yes I would." You said.

-------

Christmas with Aemond's family was always a little wild, and a little bit crazy, but you knew that with Aemond, your child would be loved.

As you went to bed that night, Aemond's arm wrapped around you, you felt your nerves dissipate and you couldn't help but smile.

You had a wonderful family now. It was going to be wonderful.

--------

Eight months later, as everyone crowded in your hospital room, to meet the newest family member.

"This, is Aela." Aemond said, "She's named after her uncle, the first person to know about her."

Aegon's eyes grew wide. He came close, studying the newborn, a genuine smile across his features.

"We are going to have so much fun when you're older." Aegon said, "Just you wait."

He took the new baby in his arms, smiling widely at you and Aemond. And you knew.

Aemond's family might be big, and they might be a little crazy, but there was a lot of love there. And little Aela would never be alone.