#just had to get this off my chest and let it sit here.

[niccolites]

green cliffs: - lessons in mortality. chapter three

highlander!soap x fem!reader. cw dubcon. read here on ao3

You grab the nearest item in Johnny’s room and lob it at his head, which he dodges with an ease that sets off your temper again. It’s a cup and it shatters against the wall, a last gasp of dust that settles into the air.

“You are a right bastard,” you hiss at him, so angry that you shake with it. You had barely been allowed a moment to process what Johnny had announced - without consulting you - before you were being hustled out. Johnny’s arms a firm band around your waist as he brought you to his room, something that had almost set you off in the hallway.

You expect him to get angry at you, the way he did out in the woods. If anything he seems delighted, broad smile as he laughs at you. Dodges your next throw - a book this time - and catches you, sweeps his arms around your waist and hoists you up against him. “Am sorry, a am sorry,” he grins into the curve of your jaw, the hint of teeth before he settles on a smacking kiss as you squirm to get away from him. “A just couldnae contain masel’, I had tae tell ‘em.”

“There’s nothing to tell, what are you talking about?” you snap, thumping your palm against his shoulder to get him to relinquish you. His shoulder is hard underneath his white cotton shirt, firm muscle that flexes as he adjusts his hold on you.

He doesn’t. Just continues to laugh, as if you hadn’t even spoken, eyes sparkling as he seems to be caught up in some other thought. Let's go of you but you can’t go far before he has your head held in his hands. “My father will want a full ceremony, so we can make it official there, Am sorry that I announced it before, a couldn’t help myself.” He nudges his nose against yours, affectionate like he’s allowed to be.

“I don’t understand,” you whisper, a twist in your mouth. You think about your brother, think about how you are going to get back to him. You’re starting to think that maybe you were the one to leave the pitchfork in the hay and guilt curdles in your stomach, another mess for Ian to clean up after you. Johnny’s hands cradle the back of your skull and you think that you are stuck here. Walked into the maw of a lion and were surprised when it bit down and caught you.

“That’s alright, angel, I can sort everything,” Johnny soothes you, but it just raises your hackles more. He nuzzles his face into the size of yours, the bristles of his beard catching on your skin and leaving you feeling raw. He pulls back, just enough to nudge his nose against yours. His mouth is so close to yours, and he seems to realise this, blue eyes going half-lidded as he sways forward.

“Johnny,” you interrupt, and his breath hitches in his chest, a fine tremor running through him as his name sits in your mouth.

“A know, cannae help maself around you,” he admits, leaning back just the smallest amount, a hint of bashfulness that you narrow your eyes at. Like he’s putting it on. “I’ll go speak wae my da, see if we can speed up the wedding, yeah? Then we don’t have to be so nervous.” His eyes shine, as if caught up in a fever dream.

“Johnny, I don’t -” you start, but he gives you another kiss on your cheek and darts away before you can finish what you were about to say.

Maybe that is how he justifies this to himself. If he isn’t here to hear you protest, then maybe that means you aren’t protesting at all. You scowl around his room, wondering how much destruction you can get away with.

It’s messy, which is about what you would expect. An oak table in the corner with a few dishes on it, left behind presumably from the last time he left - you hope. His bed tucked into the corner of the room, rich red sheets, crumpled, as if he had left in a rush. You wander around, drag your hands down the wolf hide thrown over the armchair by the fireplace. Imagine yourself being here, living here. Dig your fingers into dead flesh, the give of fur that has been stripped from a living thing.

His blood is still under your nails. You suddenly decide that you need to be clean, need to be scrubbed down of any traces of the last couple of days and start anew. Maybe Johnny is like an animal, if you stop having his blood on you, he’ll let you go.

There is a metal basin in the corner, but there isn’t any water in it yet. You falter, uncertain as you look down at it. Then square your shoulders. If you were going to convince Johnny to retract his proposal - that was more skipping past proposal and straight into matrimony - you would need to be brave enough to at least ask for warm water.

You poke your head out of the room, trying to catch the eye of anyone wandering. A stout woman is wandering past with a basket on her hip, filled with sheets. You tentatively call out and she turns a questioning look on her face. “Hello, sorry to bother you. Do you know where I can get some water for a bath?”

The woman - grey streaking her hair even crammed into her bonnet - squints at your face for a moment before she glances at the room that you are poking your head out of. “Ah! Johnny’s bride, aren’t ya? Nae bother, lass, I’ll run and get ye some water just now.” She pauses, giving a frown at the general state of you. “I’ll grab ye some clothes as well, poppet, ye look a right state.”

She’s off before you can find the words to let her know that you are not Johnny’s bride. Not that you know to even begin to articulate such a statement. You wonder if you do protest too much, if you would just be forced out of the keep. Told to find your own way home then, if you were happy enough to rudely reject the heir. You know that you are to the west of your home, but the intricacies of the journey are lost on you.

You slink back into Johnny’s room and settle into his armchair, feel the fur of that dead wolf on the back of your neck as you sigh. Stare down the portrait of what must be one of Johnny’s old relatives on his wall.

The older lady is efficient, barely any time has passed before she is back, bustling in with a bucket of water that she sets by the fireplace and starts trying to spark a flame. Mrs Duncan, she introduces herself as she settles down on her haunches with a grunt. “Oh, I can sort that - it’s alright,” you start to say, standing from the armchair and hovering as if ready to take over.

“Nonsense, ye’d likely dae it wrang and then I’d have tae come back and do it fer ye anyway,” she says. The words are harsh, but the manner in which she says them is as if she hadn’t just insulted you. You bristle, beginning to frown. You’re interrupted when she catches sight of the rest of the room. “Ah, look at the state of this. See that boy, absolutely no shame, y’know if he expects a woman to be living here wae him, he cannae be leaving it in a state like this,” she tuts, fire catching finally and she bustles around leaving the fire to warm up the bucket and gathers up any of the dirty dishes that have been left behind.

You twist your mouth, trying to hold back a scowl. Mrs Duncan is gone again anyway, returning with another bucket. There is a constant stream of conversation, even if you aren’t contributing much to it. She has a nephew in the keep, the stablemaster, and apparently he is as messy as Johnny. You hum politely, nodding in the right places.

You jolt back to yourself when she stands you up, the buckets of now steaming water in the basin, reaching behind you to undo your cloak and tossing it at her basket of sheets. “I can do that myself,” you yelp, stumbling away from her as she reaches for the clips on the back of your dress.

Mrs Duncan pauses, watching your wriggle away from her. She looks a moment away from protesting and yanking your dress off anyway, but the mullish look on your face pulls her up short. “No need to be prudish around me, poppet, I’ve seen all sorts in this place. I’m sure you haven’t got anything that would concern me,” she tells you, raising an eyebrow at you.

“I’m not - I just would rather sort myself out,” you manage. Her face doesn’t move. “It’s been a long couple of days, I just would prefer to.” She relents at last, a gust of a sigh before she scoops up her basket and leaves. You are left with firm instructions to leave your ruined dress by the door and put on the new one she brought for you - a pointed pat on the fabric that she has laid on Johnny’s desk.

Alone again, you tip the water into the deep basin, watch the steam wrap up in the air. It catches on your face and sticks, curled into the curve of your cheek and leaving behind the faintest of moisture. You yank your dress off, finally taking stock of it. It is ruined, Mrs Duncan hadn’t been exaggerating. Blood and muck and dirt, the skirt torn at the edges slightly. You hope that Mrs Duncan doesn’t toss it away, it had been your favourite for a while. You wonder if she would notice if you managed to get it cleaned in the bathwater after you were finished. Something tells you that you are unlikely to get away with it.

There’s more water than you’ve ever seen here. Usually, there is a single bucket that you manage to heat up and tip into the basin that you and Ian had been using since you were young. You suppose this is Johnny’s bath, and must be large enough to accommodate him. Deep and forged with a thicker metal than your basin back home.

Standing in your slip, you gnaw on your lip as you watch the door. There is an overwhelming urge to be cleansed. Some sick combination of Johnny and those Englishmen’s blood has seeped through your clothes in some places and have stained your hands, your legs. Your skin crawls with the need to scrub it off. However, the fear of Johnny coming back to his room and finding you naked is enough to give you pause before you jump into his bathtub.

You pause, twisting bare feet on the cold stone of his floor, as if you have created the time in which he will come back in. A few beats pass. If he comes back, which is unlikely, then you will just ignore him, you decide. You tug the filled basin slightly around the corner just in case. Childishly hoping that he may not notice you now at all if he does come back.

Your slip comes off and you sink into the warm water, groaning at the feeling. You dip yourself down fully, suspended in water for a moment before you pop back up, reborn again.

You scrub at yourself with your nails, dig off grime and blood. There’s a hardened piece of animal fat, soaked in a sweet smelling oil that you imagine is Johnny’s soap. You scrub yourself with it, an old version of yourself slicking off and sitting as a filthy film in the water. You dig into your hair next, lather and rinse until your scalp stings.

Perhaps you overindulge. Lie with the rim of the basin digging into the back of your neck and stare at the ceiling for a little too long. You think that the more likely reason is that Johnny is able to sense that you are naked and comes running.

The door opens and you flinch, sinking further into the water. The liquid surges, almost capsizing over the sides at the startled movement. Johnny flies in through the door and stutters to a standstill, almost hurling over himself at the sight of you. Blinks and breathes through his mouth, a faint wheezing noise.

You sink further into the water, cradling yourself as if to hide from his view. “Could you be a gentleman for one minute, and leave so I can get out?” You ask, trying to sound firm, but it comes out as a faint plea that makes you wince. Your plan to ignore him has fled, he commands too much attention, too much of your attention.

He barely seems to hear you, eyes focused on the flesh he can see through the water. As if entranced he stumbles towards the basin, distantly starting to tug his kilt out of the pin at his chest. Slow at first, then faster as his chest starts to heave.

“What - Johnny !” you exclaim as he strips off with an eagerness that almost throws him into a wall before he’s bare and striding towards the basin. He’s all muscle, built with no give in him. There’s hair over his chest, thinning to a line down his belly that has you averting your eyes with a flush. “I can get out -” you start, one hand still trying to cover yourself while the other tries to find some purchase on the edge of the basin.

You’re lifted up by your arms before you can stop him, squealing as he all but jumps into the basin and drags you down on top of him. Water sloshes everywhere, you hear the slam of it on the floor as he gets settled. It rocks around the two of you for a moment before it finally starts to settle.

Flesh squeaks against flesh, your breasts pressed against his chest as he holds you still until he’s sat down, you half-cradled into him. A familiar position, although it irritates you a lot more than it did in the saddle. You wiggle, trying to struggle free but it only makes him groan, hands seeking out the expanse of your back to grip, making you still. “This is inappropriate,” you hiss, feeling something twitch on the soft skin of your belly. Animal panic, the kind that makes you want to buck and kick him away but also freezes you in place.

“You’re the one who’s bare in ma bedroom,” he points out, hefting you further up his torso so that your faces are pressed together before you lean back. He almost goes cross-eyed, trying to take in your face as well as the press of your chest against his. The hair on his chest is wet, flattened down but it still tickles when you shift slightly. Fine but dark, plastered to tan skin. A freckle on his shoulder that catches your attention before you drag it back again.

“I was taking a bath,” you try to justify yourself. He hums in response, smoothing his hands up and down your flank. A hand up your side to glance against the side of your breast which makes him groan. “Johnny, we’re not even married yet - this is so inappropriate.”

He laughs at your scolding, dipping his head to press a kiss to your cheek and then bites at the apple of your cheek. Light, more to feel you jump under his hands more than anything. “We’re no’ swiving,” he points out, nose in the wet of your hair. “We’re promised, a reckon the Father wouldnae look too harshly on us fer getting tae know each other.”

“I would,” you snap.

“Ye look like a water nymph,” he murmurs, half-dazed as if he had been struck. Half the water is out of the basin, leaving your back cooling in the air. He's like a furnace, against your will, you instinctively curl into him, try to keep warm. His hands are grabbing at your back, as if he wants to touch all of you at once.

“Johnny,” you start, trying to get up again. Palms flat on his shoulders, try to use this momentum to force yourself up, but he all but yanks you back down. Your hands barely cover the breadth of his torso, small as they curl into his collar.

He sighs against your temple, a groan trapped in his chest. He bucks against you, forcing you still again and you feel him slide against your belly. “Ah, fuck,” he mutters. “C’mon, c’mon.”

You don’t know who it is that he’s speaking to, feel the kick of his leg as he braces you against himself, the rock of his hips against yours. Flesh and water, feel the lap of it around the curve of your waist. His breath is hot against the skin of your cheek, your scalp, your neck. He digs his fingers into your backside until you flinch and whimper which just makes him moan even hotter against you.

You hold tension in your back until you can’t, a twinge in the muscle. You deflate, let yourself sag into Johnny as pants into your ear. There’s a coil in your belly, has you tucking your head into his collar, waiting it out.

The sight of you giving in must be too much, you feel the same wetness from the forest only this morning, kick out onto your belly. The water likely washes it away, but you feel it like it’s branded you. He whines your name out, sounding pained. The sound of his punched out voice has something in your belly clenching, even as you ignore it.

His hands are still rounding over the curve of your backside, but you let him. Decide to save the energy for something else you will need to argue about. There’s a red scratch hidden in the scratch of his beard. You lift your hand and thumb over it. He hisses slightly, but you feel his cock kick at the feeling. “This from those men?” you ask, voice hushed.

The quiet of your voice seems to catch his attention more than you’re yelling does. Attention stretched to you, catching each word in a tight net. “Aye,” he murmurs, turning his head as much as he can without shifting your thumb from the bolt of his jaw. His eyes are half-lidded, but alert when pointed at you. His hair curls into his forehead, dark and soft looking.

You twist your mouth, study that small scar. There had been a fight in your village once, daggers drawn between two men. One of them had cut the other across the throat, you remember the spray of blood, vicious, like it was escaping. A smooth arc in the air before it landed, the horrible choking that had followed. Blood spraying, gurgling as if it had changed its mind and wanted to stay instead.

One of the men must have had a dirk on him, must have caught this a little before Johnny had dealt with them. You imagine if the Englishmen would have cut your throat in the same way, if your blood would jump out of your throat, or stick close by you, dribble down and stain your skin instead.

You sigh, and drop your hand. Evidence of the hurt Johnny has earned himself is enough to quiet you, leave you ruminating over him. It’s distracting, being naked on top of him, everything that has you reeling at the impropriety of it all. Then, there is the scar on his calf, the cut on his jaw. Marks of hardship. For you.

Johnny nuzzles his nose into the space between your ear and your hair, inhaling loudly. “You use my soap?” he murmurs. You nod and he sighs happily again, you ride the wave of his chest deflating beneath you. “You smell like me.”

Even though you had been the one to use his soap, it’s another branding mark. You’re spared having to make some kind of response, another justification for your behaviour, as a fierce shiver shudders through you. Johnny may be a burning furnace under you, but the water is tepid now, and most of your body is left out of the water to the cool draught in his bedroom. He laughs at you, wrapping his arms around more of you as if to catch your shakes. His chuckle is a boisterous thing, starting in his lungs and bursting out. A nice sound, you imagine, if it didn’t always seem to be at your expense.

“Up we go,” Johnny hums, his hands scooping you out of the water like a messy toddler. Water cascades again but the mess was already there, so you barely give it any notice. Your feet almost slip on the stones but it barely matters with how Johnny won’t let you go.

You cover yourself as best you can with your hands, Johnny frowning at the sight as he holds the towel that you need. You frown back at him, one hand holding your breasts from sight, the other crossing your belly to cover the crux of your thighs. You can’t reach a hand out for your clothes without exposing yourself. Johnny seems to realise this and his fists tighten in the cloth, expectant grin. Open maw.

A heat in your cheeks, but you rationalise that he has already seen most of your body anyway. One hand still holding your chest, the other reaches for the towel. Johnny snaps his arms around you again and lifts you against him, something between a snarl and a laugh as he drops his head to your collarbone. “Can I get dressed, please?” you hiss, cold and irritated.

He presses a harsh kiss to your skin, beard catching and scratching at your skin, amused at your annoyance again. “Aye, my dear,” he smarms, letting you take the towel from him. You dart away, but you think that he lets you, more than capable of crossing the distance with a few strides and yanking you back into him. The towel must be his, large enough to cover yourself from view but also catch the damp of your hair as you tousle it dry.

You glance over your shoulder at him, and find him watching you, eyes suddenly sharp, taking you in. “What is it?” you ask, hiking the towel further up your chest. He’s still naked, dripping water shamelessly on the floor, adding to the mess.

He’s quiet, which immediately sets you on edge. Appraises you, eyes darting between yours, then all over. Silent. His size had been an annoyance, but you suddenly understand how those Englishmen must have felt when he came at them. You’re standing, a drenched cat, in the shadow of something much larger than yourself.

He still hasn’t dressed again, just watches you with water droplets all over his chest. The flex of his waist as he inhales, the twist of muscle there, seeming to flex as your gaze drops there. Everything in reaction to you. You refuse to look any lower, drag your eyes up and frown at his face.

Whatever he sees must satisfy him, because he takes a step forward and cups your face in his hands. You startle at the heat of his palms but he doesn’t let you go anywhere. Leans down and kisses you before you can stop him.

Strange to think that this is the first time that you’ve kissed, everything is out of order. You have only been kissed once, with the butcher’s boy who was a few years older than you, and had been sweaty. He’d tried to put his hands up your skirt and you had pushed him into the dirt and stormed off. You don’t imagine you could do that to Johnny, likely he would drag you down with him.

The sweat has washed off of Johnny, but you barely have any time to discern the press of his lips before they’re opening and you’re gasping, a revelation. His tongue in your mouth, licking into you like you were meant to be tasted. His thumbs on your temples, the span of his fingers cradling your skull. Held in place as he groans and licks further into your mouth.

There has to be something blasphemous about this, something unholy. There’s nothing appropriate about Johnny’s spit spilling into your mouth until it slicks in the gaps between your panting mouths. Spills down your chin as he tilts your head back to reach more of you. His tongue on the back of your teeth, the space between your gums and your teeth. A place that you thought only you knew about.

You’re frozen until you sway into him, head heavy in his hands. He doesn’t seem to require much reciprocation given he’s in your mouth, but you tentatively lick back, try to slide your tongue against his and you almost shy away from how loudly he moans at that.

He pulls back, just enough to seal his lips around your tongue and suck for a moment, eyes heavy on yours. Filthy. He pulls his head back enough to let you catch your breath, but now he just rests his forehead against yours. You blink at him, bleary. His spit, or yours, on your face. His spend on your stomach. Water everywhere else, but it doesn’t cleanse like you thought it would.

“Ma da wants us tae have dinner wae him, tonight,” Johnny murmurs, thumb smearing the spit across your chin. Pupils blown, swallowing up the blue.

“Alright,” you whisper back. He hums in response, as if considering kissing you again. “I should get dressed.”

His eyes flicker back to yours, silent again. His hands bracket your neck now, hands spanning across your collarbone. A beat. Then: “I’ll see if we can get the priest over here in the mornin’.”

You aren’t left any room to argue, before he’s crowding you into another kiss and pulling back with a smack that disturbs you. A string of spit between your mouths that pulls until it breaks. He’s across the room, yanking on his white linen shirt and is out of the door with his kilt held in hand.

You shuffle, uncertain, dripping wet in a strange man’s bedroom. The water spreads over the stone floor, catches in the divots and speeds up. There’s the smallest hole in the mortar, the water spilling towards it.

You drop your towel over the gap and step over the mess to get dressed. If the water wasn’t going to clean you out, you weren’t going to let it escape before you could.

[alexi-was-not-here]

Hey everyone... I saw the other reblogs and the were beautiful and I love them and you should go show them love and support BUT this story has been floating in my head and I would like to write my version {which will be extremely similar to the others BUT I love Janus and would like him to not be the bad guy... so think of this of an au of this hc I guess}

-----

Thomas had just woken up, which meant it was time for Virgil to go help Thomas make it through the day. Virgil left his room and began to make his way downstairs when all of a sudden he heard a yell, he turned towards the noise and saw a shocked formal looking side.

"Uh h-" Virgil went to greet him before he was cut off by a different voice

"Who. Are. You?" Said a side who looked like they were closet cosplaying every Disney prince combined, who was dawning a samurai sword strangely enough.

"I- I'm anxiety" Virgil responded nervously

"Why the hell are you here, Thomas doesn't need you, no one does" Virgil felt taken aback, he's a bit nervous to talk back considering the sword, but he's supposed to be there just as much as the rest of them, right?

"I- b-but-" Virgil is trying to get a sentence out but his mind is racing and his throat is starting to close.

"But what? Spit it out or," The "prince" 's grip tightens on the sword he's holding, though he stands his ground infront of two other sides, the one with a cardigan around his neck grips Roman's jacket, "get lost."

Virgil tried to get any words out of throat but instead all he got was his own racing thoughts and stinging behind his eyes. He walks back up the stairs and hears the other sides breathe a breath of relief and return to their happy banter they were having before he walked in. Virgil collapsed on his bed and finally he let muffled sobs escape his chest. He wasn't trying to scare anyone, he just- he was helpful right? Maybe he wasn't helpful after all, just like he had feared. Maybe he truly was there to cause distress. He fell asleep crying.

---

Time and time again he tried going downstairs but he would go back up to his room after being berated by the Prince guy, or freaking out the light blue side, or getting nervous and watchful glares from the formal side. He eventually stopped trying to help the three of them as he mostly seemed to be an annoyance, and favoring staying in his room instead and allowing his thoughts to consume him.

The only time he was able to not be a nuisance to the other sides was at night when Thomas was about to fall asleep, it was the only time he was able to talk to him. Though, he did occasionally get thrown out when Princey couldn't sleep either.

One thing Virgil enjoyed doing though, was sitting at the top of the stairs and eavesdrop on athe three other side who he found out were Morality, Logic, and Creativity. He enjoyed listening to them talk, and pretending that they talked to him too.

---

One day when Virgil was listening to Logic explain something he found intresting he was pulled out his thoughts by an unfamiliar voice.

"Hey, you seem cool. You wanna come hang out with us?" Virgil turned to see a side dressed similarly to Creativity except he seems to like black and green, bent over towards Virgil {a little too close} with a wide grin on his face.

"U-us?" Virgil asked confused considering he only saw green creativity{?}.

"Hello" Virgil heard a voice from the shadows {Totally not creepy} and a yellow gloved hand wave to him.

"Oh oh by the way, I'm creativity" Also Creativity said as he stood up straight and extended his hand to Virgil. "So what do you say wanna come with us?" Virgil glanced down at Logic remembering how apprehensive he was around him, at Morality who was so scared he would hide behind Princey and hold his jacket, and finally at Princey who when they first met had told him "Thomas doesn't need you, no one does" and those words still haunted him everytime he closed his eyes.

And then he looked at Creativity who said he was cool and seem eager to get to know him, and the not-at-all-creepy shadow figure in the hallway who smiled at him too, and he took Creativity's hand.

"I'm anxiety"

"Ooooo, well anxiety do you like Dance Dance Revolution?"

-------

It had been several months since Virgil decided to follow Creativity into their hangout. He learned that this Creativity's name is Remus and is essentially thoughts doesn't want to have, and while he never learned the other sides name, he did tell Virgil he has the role of Deceit though.

Living with them especially Remus had been... stressful to say the least but it was also the first time he felt wanted and, Deceit had even told him how cool it was he was anxiety and that Thomas is lucky to have him.

Unfortunately though despite all this he wanted so desperately to go back to the other sides. He was tired of being ignored and thanks to his time with "The Dark Sides" {it's what Remus called them} he had learned not to take crap. And it was time that Thomas finally heard him.

So, he went back to his room upstairs away from Deceit and Remus in the middle of the night, knowing he'd be able to talk to Thomas unbothered.

And he went downstairs in the morning, and didn't leave even after the groans or fears exclamations, and Princey didn't seem to be as eager with his sword so he stuck around. And FINALLY the sides would listen to him, even if they didn't particularly always like what he was saying.

--

Thanks for reading everyone!! I will make a part two if there is demand for it but I think I closed it up pretty okay :}

Angst idea

During Thomas’ preteen years everytime Virgil got near Patton or Logan, Roman would stand between them and draw his sword. They were a lot younger then and they didn’t understand each other like they do now. Anxiety scared them all even though he was just trying to help in his own way, partially because of the way he went about it, partially cause no one wants to be anxious and they were kids.

Logan would always tell Roman he was being excessive but he would screech Roman’s name if Anxiety was there and Roman wasn’t.

Patton always told Roman not to be mean when he started insulting Anxiety, but he did cower behind the creative side while he did it.

Virgil would put on a tough guy act “You think I’m scared of a sword Princey?” and he was, but more than that it hurt to watch the rest of Thomas hating him so much.

[chlefnikkl]

What about aftercare with gojo...

After countless hours of fucking, making love, and more fucking, its safe to say that you're tired out for the night.

"Fuck sweets, did so good. How you feeling?" He asked, slightly out of breath. He was still inside you, making sure that his cum would stay firmly inside.

"Im good." You whispered, the ache in your hips and thighs very prominent.

"Lets get you cleaned up, honeybun." He slowly slid out of you, not wanting to hurt you in any way. When you hissed as he pulled out, satoru immediately leaned down to cup your face and give little kisses to your swollen lips, trying to comfort you. "Its okay sweets, just a bit more."

"You dont u-understanddd, its sentive..."

"You're right, i dont get it, thats why you always let me know, huh, sweets?" He teased in a light manner.

"Im too tired for you're annoying ass right now..."

"Aww thats okay, you can rest with me in the tub, how bout that?"

The glare you give him is deadly, but you sigh and nod your head. The things that you love about being with gojo being a constant reminder of why you were with him. While thinking about these things, you were staring into space, out of your mind, really.

Gojo grabbed your face gently with the palm of his hands, bringing you back to earth. "You doing okay sweets? I didnt do too much, right?" He asked, which you grabbed his hands and gave them a soft squeeze.

"You were great toru. Loved every second of it." You gave him a reassuring smile.

Now it was time for the bath. Gojo gently lifted you up bridal style and hesd towards the bathroom. He set you down softly on the bathroom counter and started running the water. The tub was massive but you were happy that you could relax with your lovely boyfriend.

"Alrightly sweets, ready to hop in?" When you nodded, he took your hands in his and slid you off the counter, walking you towards the tub.

Gojo hoppdd in first, holding his arms out for you to sit between his legs.

"You can hold on to my hand sweets, would help your little wobble you got going on." He teased wuth a sly grin on his face.

"Cut it outttt im tired satoru."

"Sorry princess, just couldn't help myself."

You finally managed to get in the tub, ready to relax. Gojo grabbed the soap and a loofa and started washing you up. The gentle strokes were lulling you to sleep on his chest.

After a few minutes he gently shook you awake, "hey sweetie, wanna get out of here abd go to bed?" He looked into your eyes and saw how exhausted you had become, the tub relaxing your muscles and getting you ready to sleep.

"Yeah" you quietly whispered, wanting to lay with gojo. He picked you up and dried you off quickly, carried you to bed, and got your pjs on smoothly.

"Love you sweetheart. You were amazing tonight..." he trails off.

"Mhm, love you too..." he gives you a gentle kiss and cuddles you to sleep.

-----------------

A/n: follow if want more :p

[nerdlvr]

"come in, come in!" a familiar face greeted him, only this time with his hair dyed pink, "jaemin... right?"

he smiled as the boy's face lit up, cheeks matching his hair.

"the hair's nice by the way." he pointed up to his hair, watching as jaemin's smile dropped, "i will make out with you if you let me-"

"enough-" renjun, the short one, stopped jaemin, poking his side to make him go away, "excuse him, he's a little-" he shot jaemin a cold glare, hushing his whines, "deranged-"

"oh my goodness!" your soft yell filled the living space, heat rising to his cheeks at the sound of you.

"my kitty!" he smiled in your direction, lifting an awkward hand to greet you.

"my hyuckie! i'm so glad you could make it!" you strode towards him, arms quickly wrapping around his waist to pull him in for a hug.

he was stiff of course, but he tried his best to wrap his arms around your shoulders, pulling you against him. his eyes moved down to look at you, ignoring the glances jaemin and renjun exchanged.

"you know i'll always come when you call." you lifted your gaze, chin pressing against his chest as you spoke, "and i'll always only call for you baby."

he chuckled nervously, clearing his throat as you detached from him, slightly readjusting his pants.

"so how are we gonna study?"

you only just now noticed his full bag, textbooks sticking out from the top, "uhhh, i had more of a hands on approach- come with me!" you reached your arm out, squeezing softly as he took your hand.

your slippers scraped across the floor as you led him towards your room, door swinging open as soon as you both approached.

"donghyuck-ah! you're here- oh that outfit-" she reached for the fabric of his t-shirt, "lets get you changed- yes?"

you waved her off, "i think hair first- you brought button ups anyways so it won't mess with whatever jeno does."

oh right, he's here.

as if he had been summoned, jeno appeared next to giselle, his figure looming over her's, "i'll take it from here then-" his eyes followed where your hands met, an eyebrow raising in your direction, "if you let him go, of course."

you let go of donghyuck's hand quickly, pushing him slightly towards jeno, "yes- yes, go ahead- take care of him!"

.

"sit-" the larger boy gestured towards the chair.

he sat down hesitantly, hands seeking warmth under his thighs.

"so what are we doing today? bleach and tone? highlights? blowout? perm?" jeno scrolled through his phone as he spoke, voice bored.

"uh, maybe just like a simple style- i'm not sure, definitely no chemicals though."

jeno finally met his eyes through the mirror, hands coming up to squeeze donhyuck's shoulders, "you're bland."

donghyuck couldn't hide his confusion, eyebrows raising at jeno's comment, "w-what?"

"i said you're bland. i'm shocked y/n isn't tired of you by now- toys are supposed to be fun. and quite frankly-" he got close to donghyuck's ear, voice quiet, "you aren't even all that attractive."

he bit his lip nervously, looking towards the mirror to catch jeno's wide smirk.

"just a simple style it is then!" he ruffled his hair before turning to grab his equipment.

what the fuck just happened.

.

"he looks amazing!" you fidgeted in your spot, hands clapping softly.

"go ahead. wait-" giselle held her hand up slightly, "but don't touch him too much, the shirt's gonna wrinkle."

you stuck your tongue out at her, turning your focus to donghyuck, "do you like it?"

your warm smile made his stomach jump, cheeks growing warm under your gaze, "y-yeah i look- different."

your hands reached up to rub his arms, trying to calm his nerves, "different is good- you look good."

he smiled meekly, glasses slipping down slightly as he stared down at you, "thank you kitty."

a loud cough resonated throughout the bedroom, "we're leaving!" giselle laughed awkwardly, reaching towards the boys to push them out of the room, "come on guys, our work is done-"

"wait-" renjun reached towards haechan's face, fingers gently pulling his glasses off his face, "can't see the eye makeup with these thick glasses-"

giselle and jaemin gathered around him, "am i giselle of jaemin?" there was a loud slap against jaemin's chest, "idiot of course he can tell you're a man- hyuck how many fingers am i holding up?"

giselle and jaemin's banter seemed to fade into the background as he watched you and jeno from across the room. jeno's figure lean in towards you, talking in a hushed tone.

if it wasn't for his blurry vision he could've sworn jeno was talking about him, head tilting slightly in donghyuck's direction as he spoke.

"giselle- stop poking him." his attention turned back to your group of friends, renjun beginning to lecture jaemin and giselle, "this is why we can't have nice things- when was the last time y/n let us meet her actual boyf-"

"out! thank you so much! i love you all! now please leave my apartment!" you raised your voice, pointing towards the door.

donghyuck bowed as they each walked out of your room, not missing how jeno glanced at him, lips quirked up in a smirk.

.

"okay so then what do i do?" you leaned in closer to donghyuck, eyes trained on the camera in front of you both.

"you can change the lens filter here-" he clicked on some buttons, "this is how you zoom-" more button clicking.

your eyes followed the length of his fingers, soft veins bulging as he held the camera.

"uh-uh huh." you nodded your head dumbly, eyes nowhere on the camera.

"kitty-" his voice was sweet, your eyes moving up to meet his.

his eyes were soft, slightly dark from the makeup, his cheeks tinged pink from the proximity.

"kitty, just make sure the camera isn't out of focus okay?"

his smile made your chest feel funny, your face growing warm, "right- just- okay we can start- go stand over there."

you backed away from him, turning your focus to the camera as you took it from his hands.

"let me know how i should pose okay?"

you nodded quietly, face already pressed against the camera.

why were your hands so sweaty?

⋆₊˚⊹.𖥔 zoom, click, panic ! -> 13. music production

previous -> masterlist -> next

notes : and the crowd.... goes boo? i'm back!!! after long thought and consideration ik what the angst plot is LMAO,, jeno is not like a villain or anything dw but shits gonna get fucked up but... not soon... someday though... be alert...

taglist : @sunghoonsgfreal , @hizhu , @axo-l0tl , @strawberrysavi , @hyucktion , @4yunogf , @jakesbubu , @gacktsa , @iheartjayke , @annoyednblax , @luvvhaechan , @dudekiss3r , @nanaxwi , @yesohhsehun , @soobinbunnie5 , @hyucksunset , @peterm4rker , @byeonwooseokabs , @kodasity , @hyuckmoon , @catdonut657 , @lionzyon , @luvandletter , @defzcl , @nneteyamss , @222brainrot , @1lovejinki , @zzurao , @catpjimin , @multifandomania , @docilismo , @cyjzzl , @livingdoll-hara , @this-is-lowkey-a-hyuck-fanpage , @ohwowzersthatscool , @babyjenono , @wonswondrland , @jenoleeaesthetic , @bananinhazz , @hyuckna25 , @doejaejung , @angeliqueiguess , @mymartiniblue , @aerivrs , @heyitsbreeeeee , @choizzn , @jae-n0 , @hyuckshinee , @whothefvckami , @snoopyjimin

[springtyme]

Hey there. I love your Spencer Reid stories and was hoping I could request something.

Just something fluffy about day to day life with Spencer and a Diabetic female reader. I imagine he does lots of research, keeps snacks and juices in his desk at work ,for her lows. How does he react when her low sugar alarms go off at night? When she's so sorry for waking him, when he already gets to bed early in the mornings and only gets a few hours to sleep. Does he first mistake her insulin for "something else", and freaks out thinking she's a user?( I Had a boyfriend think that once).

I know this is a lot of an ask and it's okay if you don't write it. But I can't find any Diabetic reader fics anywhere and it'd be super cool if you could do one.

You can message me if you need info on life with diabetes.

𝐋𝐨𝐰 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 ♡

Thank you for the request, hun. I tried to do my best to do as much research as I could, so I hope this is okay. But if I have gotten something wrong, please feel free to let me know <3

Spencer Reid x f!reader || Masterlist || Spencer playlist

summary: Spencer takes care of you when you wake in the middle of the night to the sound of your glucose monitor.

word count: 2.0k

tags: Fluff. Comfort. Diabetic reader. Eating. Brief mentioning of reader being scared of feeling like a burden.

You toss and turn in bed, the familiar feeling of dizziness creeping in as you start to come to. The soft beeping of your glucose monitor cuts through the quiet of the night, its persistent alarm pulling you from the depths of your dreams. You blink rapidly, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep, but your heart sinks as you realize what the sound means.

Low blood sugar.

Sitting up slowly, you take a moment to gather your senses and find your bearings. You glance over to see Spencer’s silhouette beside you. He always looks so peaceful when he sleeps, wavy locks of brown hair softly tousled against the pillow, his lips slightly parted in a way that makes your heart ache with affection, but he begins to stir next to you. Guilt floods your chest for waking him, knowing he sacrifices so much of his sleep already for his work with the BAU, often staying up late thinking about cases or preparing for the next day’s challenges or having to pull all-nighters when cases demand it.

You fumble for the monitor, desperate to silence the alarm before it disturbs the tranquility of the night any further, but it’s too late. Spencer stirs more, his brow furrowing as he blinks awake, his eyes adjusting to the low light with a hint of confusion.

He murmurs your name, his voice thick with sleep, his voice laced with a groggy confusion and concern.

“I’m so sorry,” you rush out, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I just—”

“Don’t apologize,” he interrupts gently, propping himself up on one elbow. His concern is palpable as he studies your face, and you can see the worry etched in the lines of his features. “How low is it?”

You glance at the screen of the monitor and wince, your heart sinking further at the number displayed. “I’m at 60. I just need a snack.”

His eyes widen slightly, and without another word, he swings his legs over the side of the bed and stands. You can’t help but admire the way he moves, even in his sleepy state. “Stay here,” he says, his voice firm yet soft, a request that you can’t help but obey, though you do feel a slight sense of guilt for waking him up and now getting him out of bed. “I’ll get you something.”

You watch as he leaves the bedroom and pads down the hallway, the sound of his bare feet against the hardwood floor grounding you in the moment. As he disappears from view, you pull your knees to your chest, feeling an overwhelming mix of embarrassment and gratitude. You know he needs his sleep—he’s been working so hard lately—but the way he cares for you, despite the toll it takes on him, makes your heart swell with a warmth you can’t quite describe.

A moment later, he returns with a glass of juice and a granola bar, a sleepy smile lighting up his face that makes your already fast beating heart flutter. “Here you go, ” he says, holding out the glass of juice for you, his eyes sparkling with affection.

“Spencer, you didn’t have to—”

“Yes, I did. Please stop saying that,” he interrupts again, his voice a soft  plea which instantly makes you feel lighter. “And I want to, so don’t worry about it.”

You take the glass from him, your fingers brushing against his as you do, sending a small thrill through you. “Still… I’m really sorry for waking you up,” you say softly, your voice filled with sincerity. “You work so hard, and you need your rest.”

He shakes his head, his expression turning serious as he leans in closer. “You’re my priority. I’d rather be awake helping you than asleep worrying about you.”

You sip the juice, feeling the sweetness flood your system like a warm embrace, and you can’t help but smile at him, the corners of your mouth lifting despite the earlier panic. “You really are the best.”

“Just doing my job,” he replies, but the warmth in his eyes tells you how much he means it, how deeply he cares.

As you finish your juice he takes the glass from you to set it on his bedside side table before he sits himself down beside you on the bed, propping his pillow against the headboard and leaning back, his eyes still fixed on you with an unwavering concern. He reaches out, prompting you to come closer, his hand open and inviting.

You move closer, shifting to sit beside him, leaning against his side as he drapes his arm around you, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. His presence is a comforting weight against your side, his fingers lingering against your skin, sending a soft shiver down your spine. “How are you feeling now?” he asks, his voice low and soothing.

“Better,” you admit, the dizziness fading as the fruit sugar kicks in, your body slowly returning to normal. “Thank you for being so amazing.”

He chuckles softly, his eyes sparkling with affection that makes your heart flutter. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

He pulls you closer against his side, and you nestle against him, feeling the comforting warmth of his body seep into your bones. You can’t help but close your eyes, letting the safety of his presence wash over you like a soothing balm, the gentle rhythm of his breathing lulling you further into relaxation as you wait for your blood sugar to go back to normal. 

“You can go back to sleep, if you want. You must be exhausted,” you say, though you don’t move away from his side. The warmth of his body feels too good, too safe, to leave even for a moment.

“I’m alright,” he replies, his voice a soft murmur, brushing against your ear like a gentle caress as he adjusts his hold on you, pulling you even closer. “I’d rather be here with you than trying to fall back asleep and worrying about you,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment that feels infinite. 

You smile to yourself, feeling cherished and safe in his embrace. “You really don’t have to.”

“I want to,” he insists, his voice steady and calm, unwavering in its sincerity. “I’ll always want to.”

The sincerity in his words wraps around you, warming you up from the inside. You breathe in the soothing scent of his skin, a mix of his shampoo and something uniquely him, and it brings you a sense of all encompassing peace you didn’t realize you needed. You let his words linger in the air around you for a moment before you break the silence, letting his sentiment absorb within you. 

“Spencer,” you finally whisper, the weight of the night’s events still lingering in your mind, “promise me that if I ever wake you up like this in the future, and it does bother you, you’ll tell me,” you say, a hint of vulnerability in your tone. “I don’t want to feel guilty for needing you.”

He shifts slightly, tilting your chin up with his finger so you can meet his gaze. The warmth and sincerity in his eyes make your heart flutter again, pushing the remnants of guilt away.

“I can’t promise that I won’t be a little groggy,” he says, his voice low and steady. “But I can promise you will never bother me  for needing help. That’s what I’m here for.”

You nod slowly, feeling the tension in your chest ease just a bit. “I appreciate that,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just… I would hate to be a burden. ”

“But you’re not,” he says firmly, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes you feel seen. “You’re not a burden. You’re my partner, and that means I’ll always be here for you, no matter the hour. It’s just part of loving someone.”

You let out a soft sigh, both relieved and grateful. “You make it sound so easy.”

He chuckles softly, the sound vibrating through you. “But it is easy. I love you.” He says it so matter of factly that it sends a rush of warmth through your chest. The simplicity of his declaration feels monumental than than any grand gesture could ever be. 

You feel your cheeks warm at his words, the moment between you and Spencer vibrates through you, it feels all consuming in a way that leaves you momentarily breathless. “I love you too,” you reply, your voice a little shaky as you nuzzle your face into his shoulder, closing your eyes as you let yourself fully sink into the moment and let the weight of the world outside fade away for a bit.

Minutes pass in peaceful silence, the only sound being the soft hum of the night and the quiet rhythm of your breathing. You can feel Spencer’s heart beating steadily beside you, a calm and reassuring presence. You drift into a peaceful state of half slumber, your mind finding a place of ease. Every now and then, you feel Spencer’s fingers gently tracing small patterns on your arm, grounding you in the moment until his voice finally breaks through the silence. 

“I think it’s time to check your blood sugar again,” he says softly, his tone gentle but filled with care. “Make sure you’re back to normal.”

You nod slightly, still nestled against him, reluctant to break the comfort of the moment. “Yeah” you murmur, your voice thick with sleepiness.

Spencer shifts away just enough to reach for your monitor. As he checks the reading, you watch him, noting the way his brow furrows in concentration, an expression you’ve come to recognize as his deep-seated need to ensure your well-being.

He glances back at you, a slight smile breaking through the concern. “You’re at 85. Just a little lower than your target, but still good.” He takes the granola bar from the bedside table and hands it to you, his eyes still filled with warmth and encouragement. “Finish this, and I’ll feel a lot better.”

You take the granola bar, feeling a swell of appreciation for his attentiveness. “Thank you,” you say, your voice soft as you unwrap it and take a small bite. The chewy texture and nutty flavor is comforting on your tongue. As you chew, you watch him, unable to suppress the smile that spreads across your face. He’s still watching you, his gaze a mix of concern and affection, and it makes your heart race. “What?” you ask playfully, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Just admiring you,” he replies, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’re really beautiful.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the blush that creeps up your cheeks. “Spencer, it’s 3 AM, and I just woke you up because of a blood sugar emergency. I don’t think ‘beautiful’ is the first word that comes to mind.”

He just shrugs his shoulders, a sweet, almost shy smile playing on his lips. “For me it is,” he insists, his voice steady, and the earnestness in his eyes makes you melt a little inside.

You finish the granola bar, feeling a little more energized. “You really are the sweetest.”

Spencer just shrugs again, holding out his hand so you can hand over the now empty granola bar wrapper to discharge it next to the empty juice glass. As the two of you lay back down on the mattress, Spencer instinctively wraps his arm around you once more, pulling you close. The warmth of his body envelops you, and you can’t help but let out a contented sigh.

“Are you feeling better?” he asks, his voice still a soft murmur, the concern never quite leaving his tone.

“Yeah,” you reply, a smile spreading across your face. 

“Good,” he says, his eyes sparkling with relief. 

You nod, feeling the weight of the night sink in, wrapping around your heart like a warm blanket, leaving only the two of you in your little bubble of comfort.

As your eyes flutter closed once more, Spencer kisses the top of your head gently, his lips lingering there for a moment. “Get some sleep,” he whispers, his voice a soothing balm that sends you drifting back toward dreamland. With a final squeeze of his hand, you nestle deeper into his embrace, feeling cherished and safe as you slip back into slumber.

[viagracex]

okay here me out on this - you’re a youtuber and tiktoker who’s friends with the boys and always had a little crush on george, and he you, but you’re both cowards. it’s valentine’s day coming up and all the other boys have dates/are away and so are your girl friends so you say to george hey let’s do a friend v day like valentine’s day or smthn because he’s sad he doesn’t have a gf, he comes to your flat, you cook, watch rom coms, drink a lot of wine and you play games but you accidentally play a couples game 😉😉😉😉 and you end up doing the deed and in the end both agree to go on an ACTUAL valentines date the next day hehehehehe

A Valentine's Between Friends

george clarke x fem!reader

summary: a friendly valentine's evening leads to anything but…

warnings: sexual content, smut (MDNI)

3.4k words (may have got a bit carried away)

note: Anon, thank you so much for the request. It's my first time writing smut so I hope you like it, sorry if it's awkward and cringy. If it sucks let me know and would love to get more requests.

Masterlist

₊ ˚ ˚ ₊ ‧ 。☆ 。‧₊ ˚ ˚ ₊ ‧ 。☆ 。‧₊ ˚ ˚ ₊ ‧ 。☆ 。‧₊ ˚ ˚ ₊

It was the sort of cold February evening that made you want to curl up with a blanket, a glass of wine, and pretend the world outside didn’t exist. The sort of evening that made you consider just not getting out of bed at all. Except for the fact that your phone was pinging with messages from the boys.

You groaned into your pillow, staring at the screen.

Chris had a date with someone he met on one of his spontaneous trips. Arthur was spending Valentine’s Day with a new girlfriend who he met through TikTok. Even your best friend was off on a family holiday. leaving you all alone.

You could already feel that aching hole in your chest. Valentine’s Day, of all days, was particularly terrible when you were single. The entire world seemed to be a constant reminder of the relationships you didn’t have. Of the fact that your phone was always empty, save for messages from your mates.

But then, there was George.

You had always had a soft spot for him. It started back when you all met, years ago, the banter, the cheeky comments, the laughs, the way he made you feel like you were always in on some secret joke. And now, well... now, it was just confusing. It had become a game of will-they-won’t-they. Neither of you ever crossed the line—too much fear of what might happen if you did. But god, how you both danced around it.

You hated the idea of spending Valentine’s Day alone, and so did he. So why not just make it a thing? A friend Valentine’s Day—no expectations, no awkwardness. You’d keep it chill.

You shot him a quick text.

“Wanna have an anti-Valentine's Day? I'll cook, we can drink wine, watch rom-coms and maybe play some games. Neither of us have plans, so why not? Let me know xx"

It didn’t take long before his reply came through.

"That sounds like exactly what I need. I’ll be over in an hour."

It was almost comically easy. But as the hour passed, you found yourself slightly nervous, unsure of what to expect. Was this just a chill night? Or was there something more lurking under the surface? You tried to push those thoughts aside, focusing instead on getting everything ready.

You busied yourself in the kitchen, the sizzle of garlic in the pan mingling with the rich aroma of tomatoes—a simple, hearty meal to pair perfectly with the wine you’d bought. As you laid the table, each placement was a silent testament to the years of friendship that had intricately laced your lives together.

The sound of the doorbell jolted you from your thoughts. George stood there, hands buried deep in his pockets, his smile shy but genuine.

"Hey," he greeted, stepping into the warmth of your flat, the cold nipping at his heels. "This is a surprise. Smells like you've outdone yourself."

You chuckled, "Microwave meals are tragic on Valentine’s, even for friends."

He let out a laugh, sitting down at the table. "Fair enough. This looks pretty decent, actually. I’m impressed."

The evening unfolded with an ease that only true friendship could afford. Dinner was a merry affair, filled with laughter and nostalgic exchanges about past escapades with the boys. As the wine flowed, the barriers of mere friendship seemed to melt away, replaced by a tender connection that neither of you had dared to explore.

He grinned, taking off his jacket and hanging it up, glancing around your flat. "I’ve got to admit, this is a bit of a shocker. You’re actually being… domestic?"

"Well, thank you," you replied, smiling. "I even put some effort into it, just for you." You pulled the wine out of the fridge, uncorking it and pouring another glass for both of you.

The conversation flowed easily after that—easy banter, jokes about past video shoots, hilarious stories about the boys. But beneath the jokes, there was something soft lingering in the air. It was the unsaid, the little sparks you both danced around every time you spent time together.

As the evening wore on, the wine started to loosen your inhibitions. You moved to the couch, both of you nestled into the cushions, a blanket draped across your legs. The rom-com marathon began, and you both laughed at the ridiculous plot twists, snickered at the corny lines, but neither of you could ignore the growing tension between you.

"Should we play a game?" you asked, glancing at the coffee table where you had set out a box of games, most of them silly. "Something to pass the time? No pressure, I promise."

George gave you smile. "Yeah, I’m game. As long as it’s not too weird."

You grinned. "Oh, it’s not that weird. It’s just a couples game."

He raised an eyebrow. "Couples game? What, like Truth or Dare, but for couples?"

"Exactly," you replied with a laugh, though your heart was now beating in your throat. "But it’s mostly silly stuff. You know, harmless. Just a fun thing to do on Valentines."

You could see his hesitation, the subtle shift in his posture. "Alright. But I’m not kissing you, just so we’re clear."  He finished his sentence with a cheeky wink.

You snorted. "Who said anything about kissing?"

With a shake of his head, George grabbed the card deck, and you both started drawing cards one after another, each more ridiculous than the last. The questions were harmless, at first: "What's your partner's worst habit?" and "What's their favourite food?" The game seemed lighthearted enough. Until it wasn't.

George drew the next card, his fingers trembling slightly as he flipped it over. The room suddenly felt too warm, the air thick with unspoken tension. He cleared his throat, a faint blush creeping up his neck as he read the card aloud: "Describe your most vivid fantasy involving the person sitting across from you."

Your eyes widened, and you felt a jolt of electricity course through your body. The playful atmosphere evaporated in an instant, replaced by a crackling intensity that made your skin tingle. George's gaze met yours, his pupils dilating ever so slightly.

"We don't have to-" you started to say, but George cut you off with a subtle shake of his head. His voice low and husky. "No, it's okay. I want to answer."

"It's always the same dream," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "We're alone on a deserted beach at sunset. The sky is painted in shades of orange and pink, and the waves are gently lapping at our feet."

You felt your breath catch in your throat as he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

He continued, his voice growing more confident. "You're wearing that white sundress I love, the one that shows off your shoulders. Your hair is loose, blowing in the sea breeze. I reach out to brush a strand from your face, and suddenly we're so close I can feel your breath on my lips."

The room was dead silent now, and you’re hanging onto George's every word.

Your heart raced as George's words painted a vivid picture, one that mirrored your own secret fantasies. The air between you seemed to crackle with electricity.

"And then?" you whispered, barely trusting your voice.

George's eyes darkened. "Then I kiss you. Softly at first, but it quickly becomes more. My hands tangle in your hair, pulling you closer. You taste like salt and cherries."

You felt a flush creep up your neck, your skin tingling with each word.

"We fall back onto the sand," he continued, his voice low and intense. "The waves crash around us, but we don't care. All that matters is the feel of your skin against mine, the sound of your breath catching as I-"

George's voice trailed off, the unfinished sentence hanging in the air between you. The tension in the room was palpable, a living thing that seemed to pulse with each rapid beat of your heart. You realized you were holding your breath, your body leaning towards George unconsciously.

"As you what?" you whispered, your voice barely audible over the thundering of your pulse in your ears.

George swallowed hard, his adam's apple bobbing. He looked almost pained, as if continuing would shatter some invisible barrier between fantasy and reality. But his eyes, dark and intense, never left yours.

"As I trace every curve of your body," he finally said, his voice rough with emotion. "As I worship you with my hands, my lips, my entire being. In that moment, you're my entire world."

You felt a shiver run down your spine, your skin erupting in goose bumps.

The silence that followed was deafening. You could hear your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, feel the heat radiating from your flushed skin. George's confession hung in the air between you, electric and charged with possibility.

"I..." you began, but the words caught in your throat. How could you possibly respond to such a raw, intimate revelation?

George's eyes searched yours, a mix of vulnerability and desire swirling in their depths. "Your turn," he said softly, pushing the deck of cards towards you with trembling fingers.

Your hand hovered over the stack, suddenly aware of how this next card could change everything. With a deep breath, you flipped it over.

"If you could do anything right now, without consequences, what would it be?"

The question seemed to mock you, daring you to voice the thoughts that had been building since George began speaking. You looked up, meeting his gaze once more. The air between you seemed to crackle with unspoken tension.

"I..." you started again, your voice barely above a whisper. "I would make your fantasy a reality."

The words hung in the air for a moment, heavy with implication. George's eyes widened, his lips parting slightly in surprise.

Without breaking eye contact, you slowly rose from your seat. Your heart pounded as you crossed the short distance between you, each step feeling like an eternity. George's gaze followed your movement, a mix of anticipation and disbelief etched across his features.

As you reached him, you gently took the card from his hands, letting it fall forgotten to the floor. Then, with a courage you didn't know you possessed, you lowered yourself onto his lap, your legs straddling his.

George's hands instinctively moved to your waist, steading you.

"We may not have a sunset, but..." Your voice trailed off as you brought your face closer to his, your lips mere inches apart. "We can make our own paradise right here."

George's breath hitched, his fingers tightening on your waist. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you hovered on the precipice of something monumental. Then, with a soft groan, George closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

It was everything you had imagined and more. His lips were soft yet insistent, moving against yours with a passion that made your head spin. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened.

George's hands roamed your back, tracing patterns that sent shivers down your spine. When you finally broke apart for air, you were both breathing heavily, your foreheads pressed together.

"I've wanted this for so long," George murmured, his voice rough with emotion. His hands cupped your face gently, thumbs stroking your cheeks as if he couldn't quite believe you were real.

You leaned into his touch, your heart racing. "Me too," you whispered back, surprised by the intensity of your own feelings.

George's eyes searched yours, a mix of desire and vulnerability swirling in their depths. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned in again, this time placing a soft, reverent kiss on your forehead, then your cheek, then the corner of your mouth. Each touch of his lips sent sparks through your body.

When he finally reclaimed your lips, the kiss was slower, deeper, filled with a tenderness that made your chest ache. You melted into him, your bodies fitting together as if they were made for each other. 

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice low, barely above a whisper, as if the question was as much for him as it was for you.

You leaned in slightly, your breath mingling with his. "I’m sure," you murmured, before closing the distance between you with a kiss.

It started soft—tentative. But as the seconds stretched, it deepened, becoming more urgent. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer. You could feel the warmth of his chest against yours, the rise and fall of his breath matching your own.

The world outside seemed to vanish. The only thing that mattered was the press of his lips against yours, the way his fingers traced the curve of your spine, sending sparks of electricity through your body. His touch was gentle at first, but as you shifted against him, something shifted in the air between you—a quiet hunger that neither of you could deny any longer.

"George," you whispered against his lips, a soft plea, and it was all it took. His hands moved to your face, cupping it as he kissed you again, deeper this time, as if he was losing himself to the moment.

You felt the intensity rise in him, in the way his hands wandered to the back of your neck, tugging gently, pulling you even closer. The taste of the wine mixed with the warmth of his mouth, and you could no longer tell where you ended and he began.

"Are you really sure?" he asked again, his voice rough with desire.

"Yes. I want this."

With that, the dam broke. His lips trailed down your jaw, your neck, leaving a fiery path behind. You shivered at the feeling, the electricity between you both undeniable. Each kiss, each touch, built the tension higher, and soon, it felt like the only thing you needed was him.

The wine seemed to fuel your courage as much as it fueled your desire, and soon you were both lost in the moment, not thinking about anything but the way your bodies responded to each other. His hands roamed freely, each touch sending your pulse racing, while you met him with equal eagerness, your fingers tugging at his shirt, desperate to feel more of him.

As things heated up, you both moved to the bedroom, shedding clothes along the way. George's eyes roamed over you appreciatively as you lay back on the bed. He joined you, his warm body pressing against yours as he captured your lips in another passionate kiss. His hands explored your curves, teasing and caressing. You arched into his touch, wanting more.

George trailed kisses down your neck and chest, taking his time to savor every inch of you. When his mouth found your breast, you gasped in pleasure. His tongue swirled around your nipple as his hand kneaded your other breast. The dual sensations sent waves of arousal through you.

You ran your fingers through his hair, urging him lower. He obliged, kissing down your stomach until he settled between your thighs. The first swipe of his tongue against your sensitive flesh had you moaning. He explored you thoroughly

George's lips trailed lower, leaving a trail of heated kisses along your inner thighs. His warm breath against your sensitive skin made you shiver with anticipation. When his tongue finally made contact with your center, you gasped at the sensation. He started with slow, teasing licks before focusing his attention on your most sensitive spots.

As George's ministrations intensified, you felt waves of pleasure building inside you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, urging him on as your hips rocked against his mouth. He slipped two fingers inside you, curling them in a come hither motion that had you seeing stars. Thel stimulation quickly pushed you over the edge into a powerful climax that left you breathless.

Before you could fully recover, George was kissing his way back up your body. You pulled him into a deep kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. Your hands roamed over George's muscular back as he settled between your thighs. You could feel his hardness pressing against you, igniting a fresh wave of desire. George gazed into your eyes, seeking silent permission. You nodded, pulling him closer.

He entered you slowly, both of you gasping at the exquisite sensation of finally being joined. George stilled for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size. Then he began to move, setting a slow pace that had you arching beneath him.

Your bodies moved together in perfect synchronicity, finding a rhythm that built the pleasure higher and higher. George's lips found yours in a searing kiss as he quickened his thrusts. You wrapped your legs around his waist, changing the angle and causing you both to cry out.

The room filled with the sounds of your shared passion - soft moans, gasps of pleasure, skin sliding against skin. The walls seemed to disappear, as if they were the only two people in the world. George's hips moved faster, his thrusts deep and primal, as if he couldn't get enough of her. His lips trailed down her neck, nipping at her collarbone, urging her on.

You met his gaze, your breath ragged and your chest heaving. "George... I... I'm..."

He kissed you again, hard and desperate, silencing your words as he drove himself deeper inside you. "I've got you," he murmured against your lips. "Let go."

That was all the encouragement you needed. With a sharp cry, your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. The intensity of your climax sent shockwaves through your body, your inner muscles clenching around George rhythmically. He groaned at the sensation, his movements becoming more erratic as he chased his own release. With a few final deep thrusts, George let out a guttural moan as he found his peak, trembling above you.

You both lay there panting, bodies intertwined and glistening with a fine sheen of sweat. George's weight on top of you felt comforting rather than stifling. Sliding out, he lifted his head to look at you, his eyes soft with emotion. He brushed a strand of hair from your forehead tenderly before capturing your lips in a deep kiss.

"That was..." he trailed off, seeming at a loss for words.

"Yeah," you agreed breathlessly. "It really was."

George rolled to the side, pulling you close against him. You nestled into the crook of his arm, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest. A comfortable silence fell between you as your breathing slowly returned to normal.

George's fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin, sending pleasant tingles through your body. You tilted your head up to look at him, taking in his tousled hair and flushed cheeks. His eyes met yours, filled with warmth and contentment.

You both lay there for a moment, just breathing, both aware of the shift that had happened—of the line you had just crossed, and the new, thrilling tension that hung in the air. Neither of you spoke for a long time, simply enjoying the quiet intimacy.

"Well," he said, voice thick, "that… wasn’t how I expected the night to go."

You chuckled softly, catching your breath. "Yeah, me neither. But…"

"But?" he prompted, his eyes locking with yours, intense and filled with something new.

"But, maybe we should just go with it?"

He smiled at you, his lips curving mischievously. But when George finally broke the brief silence, it was with a soft chuckle.

"So… tomorrow," he said, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine. "I guess we're going on that Valentine's date after all."

You couldn't help but laugh, the sound muffled against his chest. "I guess we are," you replied with a smile, lifting your head to meet his gaze. His eyes were soft and full of a warmth that made your heart flutter. As his eyes met yours, you knew that everything had changed.

Outside, the night continued on, unaware of the transformation happening within the walls of your flat. But inside, on this unexpected Valentine's Day, you found yourself celebrating not just the day itself, but the beginning of something new and exciting. As you snuggled closer to him, your head finding its now familiar spot on his shoulder, you both agreed to take a leap into the unknown together. This was more than just a date on the calendar - it was a promise for the future.

Valentine's Day was no longer a dreaded reminder of what you lacked, but a joyous celebration of what could be.

[anastasia12]

lower your inhibitions

lower your inhibitions ; simon “ghost” riley.

You love Simon, you really do.

How could you not? How could you not fall for him? He’s the one who rescued you from a fate worse than death, the one who washes your body for you even though the both of you know that you’re fully capable of showering alone (he loves you so much, he’s constantly craving to touch you in any way he can), the one who took apart one of his honorary medals for his services and melted it down so it could be manipulated and turned into the band on your engagement ring.

(Did you know that the medal he used is the one he got from the mission where you two first met, the fateful mission where he both saved and changed your whole entire life?)

And you know that Simon would do absolutely anything for you. He whispers it to you in the dead of night, holding you so close to his chest like he’s scared you’ll disappear if he doesn’t. He lets you be the one who removes his mask, and if he can do something so intimately vulnerable, then you suppose you can do this for him.

This is giving into one of his latest fantasies, one that he’s been hinting at for quite some time now.

You know that his line of work is difficult at best and life-threatening all the time. You know that he bears a heavy burden on his shoulders — it’s not just his weaponry and equipment that weighs him down, but the fact that so many lives are resting in his hands. You do your best to relieve him of any stress when he gets home: a warm meal waiting for him, fresh clothes set out for him to change into, long nights where you spend all your time and energy determined to give him the reward he deserves for being a hero.

He mentions it in passing, usually when you’re so far gone in the throes of pleasure that you don’t even consciously acknowledge his little comments. Sneaky bastard; he’s been making sure it stays ingrained in your subconscious, though.

Baby, I could spend forever here. You’re certain that’s what he was groaning out the last time you had spread your legs for him and allowed him to eagerly lap at your pussy. You’re not entirely too sure, though — the only thing you can clearly remember through the foggy haze of intense passion was the feeling of him pleasuring you with just his mouth and bringing you to climax on his tongue at least twice that night.

You can only imagine what he must have planned for you tonight.

You’re sure that Simon has an insane amount of stamina as a result of his work. The only thing keeping you, his little soon-to-be housewife, still alive from all of these little entanglements is the fact that you love him enough to do anything he asks of you. So when he tells you that the only thing that’ll help him take his mind off of his latest assignment is to have you sitting on his face, you oblige.

According to him, this is a foolproof plan because only an idiot would be thinking about something else when he’s got the prettiest pussy in the world on top of him.

You could feel your face heating up at his vulgar compliment, but you’re not entirely innocent. The heat was building up towards the lower half of your body after that comment, too.

And now you find yourself nervously straddling your fiance, looking into his eyes.

“You know where you need to be, pretty girl,” His voice is already thick with arousal, and you recognize that hungry glint in his eyes. You pray to anyone out there who’s listening to pretty please give you the strength to survive tonight.

“B-but Simon—” You’re whispering, even though this house is the only residence in the area. (Thank God for that; if the two of you had neighbors, they surely would have filed a noise complaint.)

“Yes, my love?” You can recognize the teasing tone in his voice, and you can hear the smirk he must be wearing on his face.

“How am I supposed to… You know, get on your face and let you do what you want when your mask is still on?”

His infamous balaclava with the skull design etched onto the fabric seems to taunt you. It doesn’t scare you, especially since you’re well aware of who the man behind the mask truly is, but you can’t quite figure out why he hasn’t taken it off yet.

“Oh. I didn’t tell you yet?” He has to be smiling underneath the mask because your reaction to his next words is enough to have him chuckling.

“I’m not eating you out ‘til you’re so wet for me that I can feel you dripping through the mask.”

You immediately freeze up, wondering if he truly means what he just said.

(It’s Simon; of course, he meant every word of it.)

“Sweetheart, I thought you were going to be a good girl for me tonight.” The disapproval he douses his words with isn’t real — you know he’s just trying to tease you because it’s what he loves to do. Still, you find yourself nodding your head and slowly but surely making your way up his resting body before you find yourself hovering uncertainly above his face.

You let out an adorable little yelp of surprise as he suddenly grips the back of your thighs and forces you down on his mask-covered face. For a man his size, the strength isn’t surprising, but it’s his stealth and dexterity that always catches you off guard.

“Can’t wait to taste you.” His voice sounds muffled now due to the pressure being applied to his mouth, and you can feel the slight movements of his mouth despite the thick fabric of his balaclava acting as a barrier between you and him. His eyes are already deepening with desire, and you swallow hard, knowing that it’ll please him if you truly give it your all. You’ve known him for what feels like forever, and you’re engaged to the man. There’s no more room for shyness to take root in this relationship.

It’s time for you to lower your inhibitions.

Your first movements are a bit uncertain, but his groan of appreciation acts as reassurance. You move back and forth slowly, carefully grinding against the mask, and occasionally, your clit will brush against the covered tip of his nose, only adding to your pleasure and allowing you to give into your depravity without worry.

“Just like that, love. You’re doing so well for me.” You can barely make out the words he’s saying, but you give him a shaky smile as you continue to grind against him, your hands finding purchase on the pillow he’s resting his head on. You grip it, trying to hold yourself steady as you continue to buck against him, your arousal practically leaking out of you, a constant stream of juices that is soaking through the fabric, leaving a distinct wet stain on the front of it.

Simon grins at a mission successfully accomplished. Not only can he feel your arousal through the mask, but you’re so soaked for him that he’s certain he can taste you already, too.

One strong hand grips your waist, pausing your jerky movements, and you look down, blinking and trying to ground yourself into reality. You watch as he uses his other hand to tear off the balaclava, tossing it somewhere on the floor of your shared bedroom.

His chin and lips are already shining just the slightest — just how wet for him are you? He gives you a cheeky grin, and you’re still so close to him that when he speaks, his lips brush against your slick folds.

“Don’t stop now, darling. You promised you’d sit on my face.”

He’s so close to helping you get rid of the ache in between your legs, and you find yourself lowering yourself fully, your soft thighs encasing his head, and your soaking cunt landing right on his mouth. You’re already leaking all the way down to his chin, and his groans of pleasure only serve to make you even wetter.

He can’t speak right now; not when he’s too occupied with the meal you’ve so generously decided to grace him with. The room is filled with the obscene sounds of him lapping up everything you’re spilling out.

His tongue slides through your entrance with ease, and you moan in ecstasy, throwing your head back as you start to instinctually buck against his face, practically riding his tongue.

He’s sucking up your arousal, eager to please you but also insanely happy at the position he’s finally in. This is exactly what he needed: pure, unadulterated access to your pussy. Your thighs are surrounding him, and he uses both hands to squeeze harshly at your ass. The slight pain only makes you squeal and jerk up just the slightest, but he growls before forcing you back down on his face, right where you belong.

The ministrations of his tongue are entirely too much. The noises the two of you are making sounds as if the two of you are filming a porno, and you know you can’t last much longer.

Using both of your hands, your fingers curl into the thick locks of his hair, tugging just enough to him groan against your pussy, and you mewl out his name as you cum all over his face.

Your body feels like jelly; this isn’t the first time that Simon has fucked you boneless before, but this orgasm was intense. You think you can still feel some aftershocks of it, and you moan out weakly as you struggle to remain in your seated position on his face.

He’s still lapping everything up, his tongue still exploring every centimeter of yourself you have to offer him. After that climax, your poor pussy is feeling too sensitive, and every time he slightly moves his head, his nose continues to bump against your clit. You’re ultra-aware of every movement of his, extra susceptible to every flick of his tongue and the pleasure is only painfully heightened. You’re too weak to fight him off and while giving in will surely leave you unable to leave the bed all day tomorrow, you can’t find it in yourself to ask him to stop.

“Si-mon.” You whine out his name, but it comes out garbled and broken. Your mind doesn’t know how to react to the constant pleasure he’s inflicting on you and your sensitive little cunt. Your body, though, is eager to receive more of what he has to offer. It’s evident in the way your hole starts to clench around nothing every time he teasingly withdraws his tongue to force you to beg him for more. Even though you feel like you’re unable to move, you still find enough strength left in you to grind against him, rubbing your pussy and spreading your slick all over his face before you cum once again, this one leaving you all the more disorientated.

His visage is a sight to behold: cheeks are flushed red, eyes wild and dark with desire, the lower half of his face stained with your cum and arousal. You should be embarrassed at what a mess you’ve made of your fiance, but he only licks his lips. His eyes almost roll back as he realizes the taste of you will forever be on his tastebuds.

“Taste so good, love.” He gasps out. His hair is messy from the way you’ve shamelessly tugged at his locks. “I need more. You gonna give it to me?”

You’re nodding, but he doesn’t even wait for your affirmation before forcing you down onto his mouth once again.

He wasn’t lying when he made the claim that he could live in between your legs forever. After tonight, you know you’re never going to deny him the chance to prove it, though.

comment if you want your @ in heree

[solxamber]

Genshin, 5, fluff please!!!

oh!! the first and only genshin rq for the event!

Whispers in the Rain || Neuvillette

For the Holiday Event! || Prompt: "It's always been you" ; Genre: Fluff (+ very mild hurt/comfort)

The rain hadn’t let up all day, pouring down in sheets and soaking everything in sight. You’d started to think the weather was getting a little too reflective of emotions, and when the puddles were practically swallowing the streets, you decided to head straight to Palais Mermonia.

Neuvillette had to be the reason for this gloomy deluge. It wasn’t the first time his feelings had leaked into Fontaine’s weather report, and you were worried something had really gotten to him this time.

But before you could even knock on his office door, a couple of melusines surrounded you, tugging at your sleeves.

“Hey! What—okay, okay, I’m going!” you huffed, letting them push you into his office like you weren’t already on your way.

Neuvillette was sitting at his desk, gazing out the rain-streaked window. He looked so serious, his hands folded on the desk and his jaw tight. His usual calmness was there, but it felt... heavier.

“Neuvillette?”

His head snapped toward you, his eyes wide for a split second before they narrowed. He stood up slowly, his frame towering as always, but there was something different in his posture—something guarded.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, his tone soft but strangely distant. “Not in this weather.”

“I could say the same to you,” you shot back, stepping inside fully. “What’s going on? It’s been raining all day, and you’re—”

“It doesn’t concern you.” His voice was clipped, and that caught you off guard.

“Okay, ouch.” You crossed your arms, not budging. “It obviously concerns me if you’re this upset. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

He sighed, turning back toward the window, his shoulders tense. “I’ve heard things. From Furina.”

“Furina?” you repeated, already bracing yourself for whatever nonsense the former Archon had put in his head.

“She said you might have feelings for someone else,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “That perhaps I misjudged everything between us.”

You blinked, caught between laughing and smacking your forehead. Of course, Furina was stirring the pot. She did tell you she was going to give him a little 'nudge', whatever that meant.

“Neuvillette, seriously?” you asked, stepping closer. “You think I’m here in the middle of a storm because I like someone else?”

His gaze finally met yours, and there it was: vulnerability. That small crack in his usual composure that made your heart ache.

“I don’t know what to think,” he said softly.

You reached for his hands, gently pulling them into yours. “You should know me better than that. It’s always been you, Neuvillette. I know why Furina said that, but she’s wrong. Dead wrong.”

His expression shifted—relief, surprise, maybe a little disbelief—but the rain outside started to ease, the downpour softening into a drizzle.

“You mean that?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Every word,” you said, giving his hands a squeeze.

Something in him seemed to break free, like the weight of the storm had finally lifted. Before you could react, he pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms firm and steady around you.

“I’ve been so foolish,” he murmured against your hair.

“You’re not foolish,” you said, though you were pretty sure you were muffled by his chest. “Just... a little dramatic.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his lips curving into a small smile. “I’ve never been told that before.”

You grinned. “Guess you’ll have to keep hearing it, because I’m not going anywhere.”

His gaze softened, and before you knew it, he was leaning down, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was as soft and warm as the sunlight breaking through the clouds outside.

When you finally pulled back, you couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh! Rain’s already clearing up.”

“It means you’re my light,” he said quietly, his forehead resting against yours.

“Cheesy,” you teased, but your heart was soaring anyway.

Masterlist

[himbodruid]

Promised Wildfire

Rafayel x reader

You make a trip to one of Rafayel’s exhibitions to surprise him. How will he react to the surprise? 😏

An expansion on the Promised Wildfire secret times

-:- thigh fucking -:- marking -:- you try to seduce him but he turns it back around -:- “painting”

Fic Masterlist

INTENDED FOR 18+ READERS. MINORS DNI

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was a split second decision that made you seek out the hotel Rafayel was staying at, even though the original plan was to meet with him on his return to Linkon in the morning. You were sad that you had to miss the exhibition that he was the guest of honor of, but work kept you preoccupied until you got on the plane.

Getting a key to his room had been suspiciously easy, though the two of you had gone very public with your relationship a little over a month ago. It was almost impossible for you to go anywhere in Linkon without someone recognizing you because of how much he loved to show you off. But you had to wonder if he expected you to come by, and had the hotel put your name on the room too.

So you waited for him in his room, wearing nothing but the lacy negligé you’d grabbed at the last minute before leaving Linkon. You paced between the couch and bed, not sure which would be more enticing to him once he arrived back in his room. You didn’t even know when he would arrive. The show was supposed to last until late evening, but Rafayel enjoyed socializing at the after parties as well, and could be out until who knew when.

As soon as you began questioning your decision, you heard the door handle turn. You had been standing between the bedroom of the suite and the sitting area, but rushed back to the bed to perch at the edge in what you hoped would be an alluring pose.

Rafayel was on the phone, and you could see a bored expression on his face through the crack in the bedroom door. He paced the sitting area, hand on his hip and phone against his ear. He was dressed extravagantly, as usual, and you let your gaze sweep over his beautiful form, from broad shoulders to his narrow waist that fit so nicely between your thighs. You felt your face flush when he slipped out of the maroon jacket, watching his back and shoulders strain against the intricate pattern of his shirt.

“Really, Thomas?” He said, rolling his eyes. “Another last minute event?”

He listened for a moment, turning when he noticed a dim light coming from his room. He paced closer to the door and froze, brow furrowed in confusion and concern at the unexpected intrusion.

“Well, duh. Of course I can't make it. I gotta return to Linkon tomorrow- smell ya later.” He tossed the phone aside haphazardly.

“Is someone there?” His question was stern, but then his eyes widened when he stepped into the room and took in your scantily clad figure draped across his bed. A pretty blush spread across his face, even as mischief sparkled in his eyes.

“Cutie, why are you here so early?” He chuckled, striding closer to you.

“Mmm, too much time’s passed since I saw you last. I missed you.”

“You missed me sooo much that you decided to give me a surprise visit? Are we trying for a new romantic escapade here?”

“Mmmmmmaybe.” You gripped his tie and tugged him closer. His hand found your knee, deft fingers brushing your skin with feather-light touches.

“Okay, I’ll admit your surprise was perfect.”

“Is that so?” You teased him, looking up at him through your lashes. His eyes were darkened by desire and his mouth was quirked in a cheeky smile. A finger came up to smooth a trail along your neck, more of those feather touches that made you shiver and goosebumps pebble your skin.

“I’m excited,” he said, leaning down close to you. “You have no idea. It’s almost like butterflies are about to burst from my chest.”

Feeling bold, you closed the gap and kissed him gently. Just a quick, teasing press of your lips against his. He breathed a chuckle.

“Was this sneak attack also part of your surprise?”

You tried to hide your smile by biting your lower lip, but failed. His gaze zeroed in on the action before flicking back to your eyes. Another breathy chuckle escaped him.

“Ahh…your kiss couldn’t stop the butterflies from flying out of my heart.”

He crowded you against the edge of the bed, not quite crawling atop you. His arm held your legs together, hand caressing the backs of your thighs. Your breath hitched when he tilted your chin up, mouth hovering just above yours.

“But this is how you do it,” he whispered to you. And then he leaned in the rest of the way, capturing your lips in an unhurried kiss that sent heat straight to your core. His hips rolled forward and you could feel the length of him hardening against your thigh. Soft moans escaped him as he coaxed your mouth open to plunge his tongue in. You responded to him in kind, losing control of the situation every second it went on.

“Miss Bodyguard,” he murmured against your lips. His hand trailed down, down, until he found your slit between your thighs. A sharp inhale sounded when he realized you wore nothing down there to conceal yourself from him. “You’ve given me quite a surprise. How should I repay you?”

“Mmmh, how about a nice kiss,” you breathe as he continued to explore your folds, slicking your thighs with your arousal.

“Sure, I can kiss you,” he said, resting his forehead against yours.

“Let's start with just above your eyes-“ he kissed your brow, a painfully tender touch of his lips against your skin.

“Your nose-“ he kissed the very tip of your nose, causing you to giggle.

“Ears…” he dipped his head, lips lingering against the spot just below your ear. When he move back, his teeth scraped your lobe in passing. A moan escaped you, and your hands clenched his shirt and tie.

“And lips, too.” He devoured you again and you opened to him willingly, tangling your tongue with his with shared moans. His hips rocked against your thigh and you could feel him standing at full attention now, even as confined as he still was in his trousers.

“I’ll make sure to say hello to each of them,” he said. He placed his forehead against yours again, those damnably beautiful eyes of his bouncing between yours.

“It’s been so long,” he said. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Rafayel.” He groaned when you said his name, unable to keep from kissing you over and over and over again, all while his hips seemed to move of their own accord.

You shifted as his nimble fingers continued playing with your slit, but never entering you. You longed for him to slide them into you, or better yet, his cock. Your squirming didn’t go unnoticed.

“Don’t move. I want to savor this moment. I’m always scared that you’re just a figment of my imagination.” His breathy confession made your heart lurch.

“I really am here, Rafayel,” you murmur to him, nipping at his lower lip when you leaned in to kiss him. He didn’t even try to hold back his moan. You were exceptionally appreciative of how vocal he was about his pleasure, the sounds he made shooting straight to your core.

“You’re real. And warm. It’s like I’m being enveloped in a pool of water.”

You weren’t sure the metaphor was the same for him, but you sure felt like your head was swimming. So much stimulation from him, and he hadn’t even begun to have his way with you yet. You were definitely no longer in control of this seduction.

“I don’t want to let you go, I could hold you like this forever.”

“Is that so?” Feeling another wave of boldness, you all but ripped his tie from him. The action was aggressive, but still he moaned.

“What are you-“ his question was cut off when you managed to wrench his wrists together and wrapped the tie firmly around them. You gave him a self-satisfied grin, though you mourned the loss of his touch.

“When I said I wouldn’t let go,” he chuckled. “I wasn’t giving you permission to tie me up.”

He wedged himself between your knees so that he could lean over you, his bound wrists above your head. You hissed in a breath when he nipped at your neck.

“And…you did it with my own tie, no less.”

“It’s just your punishment for not coming back sooner. I’ve been waiting for you for so long,” you admonished, tapping him on the nose. He huffed a chuckle.

“Fine, fiiine. Punish me however you want, cutie.”

You tugged the tie upwards so that his hands would slide out from where he rested his weight on them. The action brought him closer to you until he was half-laying on you.

“Ouch,” he chuckled. “An artist’s wrists are precious, you know.”

His lips hovered over yours and it was a battle of wills that heightened the senses.

“But you’re very very cute, right now. I don’t mind being tied up by you.”

“Mmm so you mean I can do it more? I’ll hold you to that.”

You smoothed your hands down his chest, feeling the firmness of the muscle beneath the fabric. He let out a shaky exhale.

“This shirt is too tight. Can you help me unbutton it?”

Your fingers obediently began working at the buttons. You paced yourself, although you wanted to just rip the shirt from him. But the heated expression he gave you was worth the slow progress. You stopped half way down to touch him, running your hands down his chest and back up.

“It's still too tight…keep unbuttoning it,” he demanded breathily. And so you did. But you didn’t stop at just his shirt. A grin spread across your face when you unbuttoned and unzipped his dress slacks.

He closed his eyes when you palmed him through fabric at first, his breathing becoming laboured when you freed his cock fully and stroked him. He pressed his hips forward to chase your touch when your hand slid to the tip of him. Moaned when you pressed your thumb against the underside of his glans. You were enjoying the flush of his pretty face, the breathlessness, the way his body reacted to your touch. Maybe you could regain control of the situation, after all.

“You broke the rules,” he groaned. He took your legs and lifted, placing your calves against his shoulders while you stroked him faster. “Getting straight to the point, huh?”

You continued to work at his cock, and he watched while placing kisses against your ankles and calves. His moans grew in intensity before he suddenly jerked back, out of your grip.

“Okay, you can stop now..” he whined.

“Rafayel?” His name fell from your lips in a breathier moan than you intended.

“We’ve only been separated for a few days. And you somehow managed to become so bold.”

He shifted your legs again so that both of them rested together on a single shoulder. He pulled you so that you lay flush against him where he stood at the edge of the bed, the lingerie bunching up to expose even more of your curves to him. Your newly unoccupied hands turned to grip at the sheets above you while he looked down at you with a predatory glint in his eye.

“Then..does that mean I can also be a little bold… and spice things up?” His chuckle turned into a sigh of longing. You noticed, then, the tie dangling from only one of his wrists.

“Wait, how did you break free?” You were quickly relinquishing control back to him, it seemed.

“That’s something I can’t tell you. A slippery fish like me can’t be caught so easily.” He let out a breathy chuckle at his silly little rhyme and positioned himself. But he didn’t enter your slicked folds. Instead his cock pressed between your thighs, just above your mound.

“R-Rafayel,” his name came from you on a pleasured breath.

“At this point,” he said, drawing his hips back and then pressing forward into your thighs again. “Begging or running away won't help.”

The sight of him fucking your thighs was nearly your end. Beautiful man that he was, it was never something you would have expected from him. Especially not when you were trying to seduce him. He did a very fine job at turning this seduction back on you and you shivered in anticipation.

“I forgot to turn on the AC…it’ll be hot in here soon enough.” With that, his thrusts into your thighs became long strokes punctuated by his moans. He turned his head to kiss wherever he could on your legs. Your heart thundered in your chest watching him take pleasure from such a simple thing, and you could feel heat building in your core rapidly. This explained why he was insistent in spreading your natural lubricant along the backside of your thighs only moments prior.

Every few thrusts, his gaze would snap to yours. And every time it did, your breath would hitch at the intensity you saw there. He was enjoying this as much as you were, and you were almost certain he knew the sounds he made were driving you insane. Watching him pleasure himself on you was one thing, but every single one of his moans shot straight through you until you couldn’t hold back your own sounds.

And then his hips jerked forward almost violently, his release spilling onto your stomach and pelvis with a hissed moan from him. It was the single most arousing thing you had experienced, and you couldn’t help squirming under him even as he gripped your thighs to keep you still.

“I only touched this and you’re already flushed,” he teased, squeezing your thighs in his grasp before letting go. He slid your legs from his shoulder, opening you to him completely once more. His cock rested heavy against your pelvis, still hard as he took in the mess he made of you.

“I guess Miss Bodyguard is a blank canvas,” he said. He reached down, flattening a hand against your stomach and spreading his seed further against your skin.

“Mmh. I painted a masterpiece on your body, and only I get to admire it.”

He pulled away from you then to shed the rest of his clothing, barely breaking eye contact with you as he did. You shifted backwards onto the bed as he crawled over you until you both rested in the center. His weight pressing you into the mattress, his cock waiting eagerly at your entrance..it was all almost too much for you and you shuddered with anticipation again. You looked down and saw his sculpted stomach resting against yours without a single regard for the mess that slicked there.

“What if I wanna see how beautiful your painting is?” You whined, biting your lip. He chuckled, capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

“It’s not finished, yet,” he said, thrusting into you with a guttural moan. Your arousal was at such heights that he glided in without the need to adjust to his size. And you were glad for that, because you wanted him viscerally. You were feral for him, and you wrapped your legs around his hips to lock him to you.

You knew he could feel your need because he set a punishing pace. His mouth roamed your body even as his hips collided with you over and over. Your moans mingled with his, rising to duet the lewd sounds of him pistoning in and out of you.

And then his mouth latched onto your neck, sucking the spot until he was satisfied a mark would be there for some time. He could already see it purpling when he finally let go, and he groaned at the sight.

“I wanna leave my mark here,” he kissed the mark he made.

“And there.” He latched onto your collarbone to draw up another.

“Yes…everywhere,” he moaned when he saw his new mark. And so he went about leaving a trail of those marks while he thrust into you. The sensations surrounding you were overwhelming and all you could do was cling to him.

“Mmmh, oh fu-“ he breathed, freezing and trying to pull from you.

“No,” you growled, locking your ankles so he couldn’t. “Inside.”

“In that case,” he said, thrusting forward. Hard. “I willingly surrender myself to you.”

And so he did. His thrusts grew erratic as he chased his release. Your own built and overflowed so rapidly, all you could do was cry out his name and dig your nails into him. The fluttering pulse of your climax wrapped around his cock was just the push he needed. His hips twitched and his body jerked as he flooded you, whining moans escaping him at the overwhelming rush of sensations.

When you finally came down from the high, your lips lazily found his again. He kissed you in such a painfully tender way, nuzzling into your neck between such kisses. It took some time before either of you could breathe without heavy panting, and you reveled in the way his body continued to press yours into the luxurious mattress.

Your eyes roamed him, taking in every detail of the moment to lock it away in your memories. Your eyes fell on the various marks dotting your body and a thrill jolted through you. You liked being marked by him. Being claimed in such a primal way. And yet..

“Mm, this is unfair,” you said. He pulled back to look at you with confusion in his eyes.

“What is?”

“All these marks on me and not a single one on you!” You feigned a pout and he snorted a laugh, relaxing back into you.

“Well then. You could leave a mark on me, right? It’ll be yours.”

And so you did. Your mouth found his neck and latched on, drawing your own mark up against his skin. His moan was a whimper in your ear and his hips pressed forward again. He was panting, moaning, whining, squirming as your mouth remained secured to his neck. When you finally let him go, he whimpered a soft ‘ow’.

“You’re greedy, aren’t you?” He asked, breathless.

“Mmmh, yup,” you say, your mouth finding his chest to leave another mark there.

“Making me surrender isn’t enough?” He whined.

“I want to leave my mark on you, too,” you say when you release him once more.

“All right then,” he said, tilting his head to the side to give you better access to his neck. “Don’t miss a single spot.”

You left your own trail of marks as he took you again. You were surprised to find that even after his second climax, he was still hard inside you. Every mark that you left on his skin was met by his shuddering, breathy moans. If you tried to stop, an adorable pout would entice you back to your task, all the way until he thrust deep into you again with a guttural moan signalling his release.

You rested with him for some time, a companionable silence spreading between you. He laid atop you, arms wrapped around you with his ear against your chest so he could listen to your heartbeat. You let your hand card through his soft waves in a tender touch. You were certain he’d fallen asleep at some point, but then he sat up and tugged you off the bed with him.

He carried you into the bathroom, stripping the lingerie you were wearing, running the bath and kissing you while waiting for the tub to fill. And then he gently lowered you into the bath, the water hot enough to almost scald- it was perfect. He remained outside the claw foot tub, pampering and caring for you- brushing your hair, using a soft cloth on every inch of your skin, etc. The pout he gave when he realized that he’d washed away the seed he spilled on your abdomen made you laugh. You leaned in, giving him a kiss. A kiss he quickly took over, plunging his tongue into your mouth.

Next thing you knew, he was in the tub with you, pumping into you again and making the water slosh over the edges. Your voices echoed in the tiled room as he took you again and again. You were sure you would be leaking his cum for days by the time he was done with you.

“No more,” you begged him with quivering limbs after he carried you back to bed, and utilized your overstimulation to bring out yet another climax with his skilled tongue. “Rafayel, I can’t take any more.”

He chuckled and relented. He wrapped himself around you, spooning you against him and laying the comforter over you. He buried his nose against the back of your neck, inhaling deeply. He enjoyed the smell of his scent mixed with yours on your skin, another way that he was able to claim you.

The warmth of his embrace lulled you into sleep as the sun began to peek over the horizon.

[mountttmase]

When You Know

Note - happy birthday masey 🥺 we’ve made it another year 🩷 thank you to the anon who requested this I know it was meant to be Christmas but I hope you like it for his birthday too 🤭 feedback would be appreciated as always and I’ve been plotting some other parts for this if you like it 😏

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 2.5k

Warnings - fluffy

‘Night everyone, see you in the morning’ you heard Mason calling down the hall. You could just about hear the rest of his family reply as they made their way into their respective rooms and you knew soon enough it would just be you and Mason.

You’d been waiting for this moment all day but now it was finally here you were more nervous than you’d ever been before. Slipping yourself under the covers as he undressed himself down to his boxers and slipped off into the bathroom to get himself ready for bed.

‘I’ve been waiting for them to go to bed for hours’ he called as he was finishing up and when he appeared in the doorway your heart stuttered in your chest. ‘Need my time with my girl’

He was so handsome. His bright smile seemed to take over his whole face and you could see it in his warm brown eyes how happy he was when he finally slid in next to you.

Hopefully he’d still be smiling in five minutes' time.

His hands were on you in an instant. Gripping your bum and thighs as he pulled you towards his body and all you could do was grip his shoulders and kiss him back as his lips finally touched yours. A sigh of relief falling from the both of you but you tried not to get too lost in him as you wanted to stick to your plan.

‘Hey Mase?’ You asked as you tried to pull away but he was quick to capture your lips again as he pulled you in even closer and tangled your legs beneath the sheets.

‘Yes baby?’ He asked against your lips before peppering kisses along your jaw and down your neck. He was making everything so difficult and you were only a second away from ditching your plan and letting him have you but you’d worked too hard and had built yourself up for hours to get to this point so you reluctantly pulled away from him.

‘I was thinking, since it’s officially your birthday now then maybe I could give you a little present? You know while it’s just the two of us?’ You asked, both your breathing a little laboured from how you were feeling but you saw the cheeky glint in his eye immediately.

‘Oh yeah?’ He hummed suggestively. The hand that was on your hip traveling slightly so he could squeeze your bum and the feel of it made you jump. ‘I think I’d like that a lot’ he told you. His voice low and commanding as he tried to pin you down to the mattress but your giggles were making it hard for him to kiss you.

‘Down boy’ you laughed. Pressing one final kiss to his lips in hopes he’d calm down a bit. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. Just sit up a bit, I’ve got a card for you to open’

‘Fine’ he sighed. Pulling himself away from you so he could sit up and you were glad he was going along with it. This wasn’t something you wanted to explain to him beforehand so as soon as he was comfortable you handed over the white envelope with a shaky hand.

You watched him closely, tearing the envelope open before reaching inside to pull the card out and you felt the world stop spinning as he did. Your eyes solely focused on his face as he read over the words on the front and you knew he didn’t understand. Repeatedly going over the with his eyebrows bunched together and you thought his confusion was adorable.

It wasn’t until he opened it and the words I’m pregnant were staring him back in the face that he truly understood. His eyes as wide as you’d ever seen them as they flashed between the card and your face before they finally stopped on you.

‘Are you being serious?’ He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. ‘We’re having a baby?’

‘We’re having a baby’ you repeated back to him tearily. Reaching into your bedside drawer to pluck out a test you’d taken earlier that day and the words pregnant were still etched onto it clearly.

Truth be told you’d been suspicious for a while and decided to take a test a few days ago but kept it to yourself. It wasn’t that you thought Mason wouldn’t be thrilled with the news but you wanted to process it on your own and think of a special way to tell him. His birthday being a few days seemed like an obvious choice and as you watched his face transform into one of shock to then pure happiness, you knew you’d picked the right time.

He was bundling you into his arms shortly after. His ragged breaths seemed uncontrollable at first but you held him tightly and stroked the back of his head just how he liked until he was calmer and his vice like grip had loosened a touch.

‘I love you so fucking much’ he sniffed, pulling back to hold you face in between his hands so he could look into your eyes but his were hazy with tears. A joyful look on his face no matter how much he was crying and it only took one look at him to set you off. ‘Are you really being serious?’

‘I am’ you laughed. Placing your hands on his arms as you sat as close as you could and when a few tears escaped he was quick to wipe them away. ‘I took a test a couple of days ago but I wanted to surprise you’

‘Well you did a bloody good job, I had no idea’ he laughed, pulling you closer into his lap until you couldn't go any further. ‘Do you know how far along you are or anything?’

‘I took one of those tests that give you a date and it was saying six weeks but I’m really not sure. I’ve got to make a doctors appointment to confirm it and check everything’s okay but I wanted to wait until you knew so you can come with me’

‘I’ll be there no matter what, okay?’ He reassured you and as happy as he was you knew what you were about to say he wouldn’t be a fan of.

‘Thank you, but listen we have to keep this a secret though, Mase. Just for a few more weeks until after the 12 week scan’ you told him carefully and just as you thought his face dropped.

‘What? Why?’

‘Cause that’s what you’re supposed to do, you know just in case something goes wrong. It’s still such early days Mase’

‘Nothing will go wrong, baby. I’ll make sure of it’ he told you pointedly but you saw his face switch as he took in how worried you were. ‘But if it’s what you want then we can keep it between us for now’

‘Thank you’ you gulped. Reaching over to give him a quick peck but he held you closer and deepened it ever so slightly. ‘It gives us a chance of finding a nice way to tell our families too. I've seen loads of cute ideas and I was thinking we could get everyone together and tell them all at the same time?’

‘Yeah okay, I like that’ he nodded before you both started grinning uncontrollably. ‘Fuck’ he breathed. ‘I’m gonna be a dad’

‘You are’ you grinned, laughing along with him as he couldn’t hold it in any longer. ‘And I’m gonna be a mum’

‘Best mummy in the world’ he whispered sincerely before dropping another kiss on your lips. ‘I love you so much’

‘I love you too’

‘How did you find out? Are you feeling okay?’ He asked. More questions coming to the forefront as the news sunk in but you squeezed his shoulders as you were excited to talk about everything with him after holding it all in for days.

‘I’m fine I promise’ you nodded. ‘I’ve just been a bit sick and then I missed my period for the second time’ you huffed. ‘Missing it once means nothing to me but with everything else I just thought I better check’

‘I’m here okay? Whatever you need’ he nodded and you knew he was serious. Ready to be the rock you needed as you navigated this new journey together.

‘Thank you’ you sniffed, overcome with emotion at how well this had gone. ‘This is gonna sound awful but I wasn’t sure how you were going to react’

‘Why not?’ He giggled, laying down as he brought you with him and once you were settled you couldn’t help but notice the way he left his hand on your tummy.

‘We’ve never really spoken about kids, I wasn't sure how you’d take it. I know you’re so amazing with the girls but having our own will be completely different’

‘I know, and I’m ready’ he grinned. ‘I’ve always wanted a family of my own and I’ve known for ages I wanted it to be with you’ he told you earnestly. ‘I know we’re not married and haven’t been together as long as some but when you know you know, right? And I’ve always known we’d have everything and more. Maybe having a kid wasn’t first on the list but fuck it, you make me so happy and I just feel like this will make us even stronger’

‘I think so too’ you whispered. In awe of the sweet words he’d just whispered to you and you knew you’d never love a man like this ever again.

You spent the next hour or so exchanging sweet words and kisses until you couldn’t keep your eyes open. Explaining to Mason you’d never been so tired in your life and he was quick to get you comfy on his chest so you could go to sleep as he stroked your hair and kissed your head repeatedly.

It was chaos the next morning. Everyone in the living room as Summer and Mila demanded that Mason open his presents from them now and as much as you were excited for Mason's special day, your morning sickness was as worse as it had ever been. Rolling through you like a tidal wave that just kept coming back and no matter how many deep breaths you took it wasn’t going away.

Mason was on fine form, even happier than usual but he was able to play it off by saying he was just excited to have everyone around for his birthday. You knew Debbie knew something was up as her eyes were glued to the pair of you. Mason couldn’t seem to do enough for you and when Summer threw a present over to Mason he was quick to shield your body in case it hit you.

‘This is so hard’ he laughed quietly in your ear when everyone else was focused on something else for a minute and you squeezed his thigh in agreement. ‘I just wanna tell everyone’

‘Now you know how I felt trying to keep it from you’

‘Just think, in a few years time our little one will be running around and joining in’ he grinned as he watched the girls run around in excitement. ‘I can’t wait’

‘Me too’ you giggled, his joy infectious but you could feel another wave of sickness coming that was worse that all the others combined and you began to panic. ‘I’m just getting a drink’

‘Let me-‘

‘Honestly Mase, it’s fine. I need a breather’ you explained quietly. Squeezing his thigh before he helped you up and you quickly made your way into the kitchen to grab a cold glass of water.

You’d researched what to do to help it, grabbing a ginger biscuit from the cupboard to nibble on as that was meant to help and also reaching for the mint tea to make a cup but the kettle had barely boiled and Mason had come to check on you.

‘You okay in here, gorgeous?’

‘Sorry, I’m just a bit sick’ you explained with a pout and the sympathetic look in Mason's eye made yours sting. He was over to you in a flash though and was quick to turn you in his arms so your back was against his chest and you melted at the way he was slowly stroking his thumbs over your tummy. ‘You giving mummy a hard time in there, bubba?’

‘I knew it’ you suddenly heard. Both your heads snapping up to see Debbie stood in the doorway with an excited look on her face.

‘Fuck’ Mason breathed, moving his hands to you hips as he pulled away slightly and you wondered what Mason was going to say next. ‘W-what do you know?’

‘Don’t play dumb, Mason. The mint tea? The ginger biscuits? The way you won’t let anyone get close to her and you, little miss’ she smiled, her finger now pointing at you. ‘You’re as white as a sheet and you turned down one of my famous sausage sandwiches this morning. That never happens’

‘Listen, mum, I don’t know what you think you know-‘

‘Mase it’s okay’ you laughed. Turning to face him to let him know everything was fine and that he didn’t have to lie to her.

‘But you said-‘

‘I know, but she’s figured it out and maybe it’s a good thing. We could probably do with an adults help’

‘We are adults’ he laughed before you were both looking back at Debbie who was looking back at you with a giant smile. ‘Okay fine, but it’s early days and we’re keeping it quiet until we’ve had the scan’

No other words were spoken. Debbie crossing the kitchen to pull you both onto a hug and you felt a weight lifted as you all stood there holding each other.

‘Mums the word okay? I won’t tell a soul and when you finally tell everyone I’ll act surprised I swear’ she told you, tears filling her eyes as he held both your faces. ‘But if you need anything I’m here okay? I’m so happy for you, I can’t wait’

‘Thanks mum’

‘What a birthday treat, eh’ she giggled. ‘I’ll leave you be but come find me if you need anything’

‘Will do, thanks Debbie’ you smiled and before you knew it you were alone with Mason once more.

‘Sorry baby, so much for keeping it between us’ he laughed as he pulled you into a hug but you didn’t mind. ‘I couldn’t even do it for half a day’

‘It’s okay, I actually think it’s for the best’ you told him, watching him nod along as his face softened. ‘Happy birthday, Masey. I promise I’ve got you an actual gift, not just this’

‘I wouldn’t care if you never got me anything again, this is the best thing I could have ever asked for’ he told you. ‘I can’t believe I’m gonna be a dad, I can’t get over it. I love you so much’

‘I love you too’ you grinned, excited for what the future held for you and your growing family.

[creatur3featur3]

ੈ✩The First Snow✩ੈ

word count: 1.7k

A/N: just a short one for today, i'm definitely enjoying sitting down and drinking my hot chocolate :)

you cannot convince this song isn't SR's brain around Sevika.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚

You had never seen snow, never felt the cold sensation of it landing on your hand, catching a snowflake or two on your tongue— you wanted to ever since you were little, that much you knew.

The biting cold woke you before the light did, your breath fogging the air as you sat up, pulling the threadbare blanket tighter around yourself. The little hideout you called home offered some shelter from the wind, but not from the sharp chill that seemed to seep into your very bones.

As you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, a strange movement caught your attention just beyond the window. You squinted, leaning forward, and froze.

There it was.

A single snowflake, delicate and intricate, drifting lazily through the air before landing on the cracked glass of the window.

You blinked, your breath hitching as you stared at the tiny, icy speck. Snow. Real snow. You’d heard about it, seen pictures in books scavenged from the surface, but you’d never experienced it yourself. Not down here, where the grime and smoke of the Undercity seemed to drown out everything pure.

Slowly, you stood and shuffled closer, hesitant as if the snow might vanish if you moved too quickly. Another flake floated down, and your eyes widened, following its path as it landed just outside the window.

Without thinking, you reached out, hand trembling as you pressed it against the cool pane of glass. The cold stung, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you opened the window, letting the icy air rush in as the snowflakes began to fall more steadily.

The first one landed on your hand, melting almost instantly. The chill made you shiver, but you didn’t flinch—at least, not until another flake drifted closer to your face.

Startled, you jerked back, your heart racing as if it had been a wasp instead of harmless snow. You blinked down at your hand, where the remnants of the first flake had left a faint wet spot, and frowned.

“Get it together,” you muttered to yourself, feeling ridiculous for being afraid of something so small, so fragile.

But when the next flake floated toward you, you stayed still, watching as it landed softly on your outstretched palm. It lingered for a moment before disappearing, leaving behind a faint, cold kiss on your skin.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, a soft laugh escaping your lips as more flakes began to fall, their gentle descent painting the Undercity in fleeting white specks.

For a moment, you forgot about the cold, the hunger, the weight of survival. All that mattered was the quiet, magical dance of the snow.

You tilted your head back, sticking out your tongue like you’d seen in stories, and grinned when a snowflake landed on it, cold and fleeting.

It wasn’t much, but it was something. Something pure, something new, something that felt like a small piece of wonder in a world that rarely gave you anything at all.

The streets of the Undercity looked… different. The grime and ash were still there, clinging stubbornly to every surface, but the thin dusting of snow added an almost surreal softness to the harsh edges. You wandered slowly, your breath fogging in the air as you watched kids dart through the streets, laughing and shrieking as they played in the snow.

Some were trying to catch snowflakes on their tongues, while others attempted to gather enough to form lopsided balls. It was chaos, but for once, it was the good kind—the kind that didn’t make your chest tighten with worry.

A faint smile tugged at your lips as you leaned against a wall, watching them. It was strange, seeing joy in a place that so often felt like it had none to give.

And then you saw her.

Sevika.

She stood off to the side, her broad frame impossible to miss even through the swirling snow. She wasn’t watching the kids, or the snow, or much of anything, really. Her hands were stuffed into her pockets, her shoulders slightly hunched against the cold as she leaned against a rusted lamppost.

Of course, she looked unimpressed.

You huffed softly, shaking your head as you made your way toward her, your boots crunching against the thin layer of snow underfoot. “What, no love for the first snow?” you teased lightly as you approached.

Her gaze flicked to you, one brow arching slightly. “It’s just frozen water,” she said flatly, her breath visible in the cold air.

You rolled your eyes, stopping a few feet away from her. “Come on, even you have to admit it’s a little magical.”

“Magical?” Sevika repeated, her tone dripping with skepticism.

“Yes, magical,” you insisted, spreading your arms to gesture at the falling flakes. “Look around! The kids are actually happy for once, the streets don’t look like complete shit, and—” you paused, grinning mischievously, “—you look like you’re about two seconds away from cracking a smile.”

She snorted, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at her lips. “Don’t push it.”

You shrugged, leaning against the lamppost next to her. “Fine, but you can’t tell me this doesn’t remind you of anything. Childhood? A good memory? Anything?”

Sevika was quiet for a moment, her gaze fixed on the snow-covered ground. “I don’t really… think about that stuff,” she admitted, her voice quieter than usual.

You glanced at her, surprised by the uncharacteristic vulnerability in her tone. “Well,” you said after a moment, your voice softer now, “maybe it’s time you start.”

Sevika’s eyes flicked to yours, and for a moment, you thought she might snap at you or brush you off like she usually did. But instead, she just sighed, her breath visible in the cold air.

“Maybe,” she murmured, her gaze drifting back to the snow as a faint smile ghosted across her lips.

You grinned, nudging her shoulder lightly. “See? Told you it was magical.”

She shook her head, the smirk returning as she muttered, “You’re impossible.”

But she didn’t move away, and for a moment, the two of you stood there together, watching as the snow continued to fall, painting the Undercity in fleeting moments of quiet beauty.

"Come on, Sevika!" you urged, your laughter spilling into the chilly air as you reached out and grabbed her flesh hand without hesitation.

She blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the sudden contact, but before she could protest, you were already tugging her further into the snow-covered street.

“Seriously?” Sevika muttered, but her voice lacked its usual edge, and she made no real effort to pull away.

“Yes, seriously,” you shot back, glancing over your shoulder with a grin. “You’re not just going to stand there like a grumpy statue all day.”

The snow fell gently around you both, catching in your hair and melting against your flushed skin. You couldn’t stop laughing softly as you led her forward, your boots crunching in the thin layer of snow.

Sevika, for her part, let herself be pulled along, her metal arm hanging at her side while her flesh hand remained loosely clasped in yours. The sight of her—this big, fearsome woman allowing herself to be dragged into something so… childlike—made your chest feel tight in the best way.

You finally came to a stop in the middle of the street, turning to face her with a bright smile. The snow clung to her hair, the strands darker and shinier against the white flecks. Her expression was unreadable, but her gaze was steady, locked onto you like she was trying to figure you out.

Your heart thudded against your ribs, the cold air biting at your skin doing nothing to temper the warmth spreading across your cheeks. It wasn’t the snow or the laughter—it was her. It was the fact that she was here, with you, letting you share this moment with her.

“I think you’re enjoying this more than you’re willing to admit,” you teased, your voice softer now, almost tentative.

She snorted, shaking her head. “You’re lucky I didn’t just walk away.”

“You could’ve,” you pointed out, a small smile playing at your lips. “But you didn’t.”

Sevika’s gaze lingered on you, something unspoken passing between the two of you as the snow continued to fall. “You’re relentless, you know that?”

“Maybe,” you admitted with a shrug, still holding her hand. “But it’s worth it.”

Her lips twitched, as though she were fighting a smile, and you swore you caught the faintest hint of warmth in her eyes. She didn’t say anything else, but she didn’t pull her hand away, either.

You couldn’t help yourself. For a moment, you just stood there, staring at her. The way the snow fell onto her broad shoulders and clung to her short hair made her look softer somehow—less like the untouchable force you’d always seen her as and more like… Sevika. Just Sevika.

Her eyes caught yours, sharp and questioning, and you felt your chest tighten. She stared back, her brows furrowing slightly like she was trying to figure out what was running through your head.

And then she let out a low growl of frustration. “What the hell are you staring at?”

Before you could answer, Sevika shoved you—not hard, but firm enough to send you stumbling back into the snow. You let out a startled yelp, your arms flailing as you hit the cold ground with a muted thud.

“Sevika!” you protested, looking up at her with wide eyes as the chill from the snow seeped into your clothes.

She crossed her arms, her smirk unmistakable. “You were getting weird. Had to snap you out of it.”

“I wasn’t getting weird!” you argued, though the heat rising to your face betrayed you.

“Sure you weren’t,” she drawled, her tone laced with amusement as she glanced down at you.

You glared up at her, brushing snow off your sleeves. “You didn’t have to throw me, you know.”

“Didn’t have to, but it worked, didn’t it?” Sevika replied, raising an eyebrow.

You narrowed your eyes at her, plotting your revenge as you slowly gathered a handful of snow behind your back. “Oh, you’re gonna regret that.”

Her smirk faltered slightly, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Don’t even think about it.”

But before she could react, you hurled the snowball at her, hitting her square in the chest. Sevika froze, looking down at the patch of snow clinging to her coat before her gaze snapped back to you.

“Oh, you’re dead,” she growled, bending down to scoop up her own handful of snow.

You yelped, scrambling to your feet as she lobbed a snowball your way. Laughter filled the air as you ducked and dodged, the icy cold forgotten in the chaos of your impromptu snowball fight.

[starlost-maniac]

My Significant Bother - Ch 1

Warnings/genre: SMUT, piv, unprotected sex (don't do it), mxf, mxm, some angst if you squint, unrequited love(?), Mean Jisung (kinda?) I probably missed some (I'll eventually remember all the tags -_-)

Pairing: MinSung x fem!reader

dividers made by @cafekitsune

"Tell me again why I'm here." You say in your boyfriend's ear before leaning back, giving him a look, drink in hand.

"Because it's my best friend's birthday, you promised me you'd go out more and you love me." He smiles at you, talking over the music blaring in the club. "Plus.." He leans back a bit more, looking you over. "You look so damn gorgeous." You smile and roll your eyes.

"I would hope I do, Minho. You picked the dress out." You take a sip of your drink. He chuckles, looking you over again. The dress was black with mint accents, the top was strapless and had a deep v cut, showing off plenty of cleavage. The dress stopped at your ankles, hugging the curves of your chest, waist and hips perfectly before becoming more flowy from mid thigh.

"You always do, kitten." He places his hands on your hips, pulling you close. He leans down to kiss you. Just as his lips land on yours, you hear the DJ announce over the music, "The birthday boy is here!"

You groan into Minho's mouth and pull away, rolling your eyes as Jisung strolls into the club. He greets people along the way to you and Minho. You take another sip of your drink and turn around in Minho's arms, leaning back against him. He leans forward some, wrapping his arms around your waist just under your breasts.

"Please try to be civil, kitten. I know you don't like him, but just for today?" He whispers in your ear before kissing your cheek. You groan out before letting out a quiet 'fine'. Minho smiles. "Good kitten." He stands up straight and holds you close.

When Jisung gets to you and Minho, he glares at you and groans. "Hyung, why did you invite this…" He gestures to you without breaking eye contact with your boyfriend.

"Jisung, I've asked her to be civil for your birthday. Can't you be nice today?" He gives you a gentle squeeze. Jisung huffs before looking at you. He looks you over, staring at your chest for longer than he needed before looking back into your eyes.

"Thanks for coming…I guess." He crosses his arms.

"And, Jisung?" You feel Minho chuckle against your back.

"And..you look very…not ugly today." Jisung huffs. You roll your eyes and sip your drink again.

"So how's your birthday so far man?" Minho asks, gently rubbing your ribs with his fingers.

"Good, great honestly. Got a new job at an office. Better pay and shorter commute too." Jisung says, waving the bartender down. You end up blocking out the rest of what he says.

You look out over the crowd, slowly sipping on your drink. You see a group of your girl friends from school come inside. They were part of your friend circle from school, that—unfortunately—Jisung was part of too. You and Jisung were not friends. You were the farthest thing from friends. He always picked on you throughout school, but stopped most of the bullying when Minho came into the picture. Minho was a new transfer and he joined your clique pretty quick. He got really close to both you and Jisung. Minho ended up asking you to your senior prom and asked you to be his girlfriend the same night. You've been dating since then.

You turn around in Minho's arms and step up on your toes to reach Minho's ear. "I see some girls from school. I'm going to say hi and mingle, maybe dance some."

"Ok, baby. Just be careful out there." He says back. "Don't want some random guy thinking he can have a chance with you. Especially since the girls are almost on full display." He chuckles, gently grazing his hands over your breasts, his fingers playfully following the v cut.

"I know, love. Only for you." You wink at him before kissing his cheek. You walk off to join your friends, their cheers can just be heard over the music. Minho chuckles and sits on one of the stools at the bar, watching you.

"Honestly, hyung, you could do so much better than her. There's a club full of hot girls here that would love to be under you. Probably a few dudes too." He laughs out. He leans back against the bar counter next to Minho.

"Nah. No way, Ji. She's honestly it. I've been with her for 7 years. I can't give her up now." He smiles, watching you dance with your friends. His gaze shifts over to Jisung, a mischievous smirk on his face. "Why do you say that, though? You jealous?" He chuckles.

"What? Hyung, ew. No. First off, she's definitely not my type. Second, she's your girlfriend." He gives Minho a look. "Plus, I may have slept around in college, but I never slept with a taken person…on purpose." He takes a sip of his drink, gaze shifting back to the crowd before landing on you.

"Jisung. I've heard you talk in your sleep. You've said her name so many times over the years." Minho laughs. Jisung rolls his eyes.

"Like you haven't dreamt of your enemies before." He turns, calling the bartender over again for a few shots.

"Oh I have. I definitely have, but not like that, and I don't moan their name with a full hard-on in my sleep." Minho wiggles his eyebrows at his best friend. Jisung just makes a disgusted face. Minho laughs and pats his friend on the back before shifting his gaze back to you. "Honestly though, Ji. I wouldn't mind it. I trust and love you both. You're both the most important people in my life." Minho shrugs. "I'd love it if you both got closer and stopped fighting so much."

You look over at Minho and wave, dancing with your friends. Your girl friends wave to him too. He chuckles and waves back before blowing you a kiss. He couldn't believe how incredibly lucky he felt to have you in his life.

"I love you, too, hyung. You're really important to me, too." Jisung turns around, facing the crowd again. He leans back against the bar and sips on a drink. It's quite between the two for a few moments before Jisung's eyebrows scrunch together and he slowly looks at Minho. "Wait. Did you imply that you wouldn't mind if Y/n and I fucked?"

"Yeah?" The older laughs. "You and I fucked a few times in high school before Y/n and I got together, too. She knows and it didn't really bother her. Maybe if you two fucked, it'll get some of that pent up anger you two have out." Minho shrugs, chuckling. Jisung squints at his hyung. "Plus, I'm sure it'd be pretty hot. Watching my girlfriend get railed by my best friend."

"Right…let's just enjoy the party. It's only a few more hours until my birthday is over." Jisung downs a shot quickly. "I'm going to go find someone to dance with." He goes out into the crowd. Minho watches and laughs.

You and your girl friends come up not long after, you immediately go into Minho's open arms. The girls and Minho catch up for a bit. Jisung comes back after a while. He smiles at the girls and thanks them for coming to his birthday party. They hugged him and kissed his cheek before going back onto the dance floor.

You all enjoy the party for a few more hours before you and Minho are ready to head home. Jisung does one more round of shots with some people before he leaves with you and Minho. Jisung gets in the back seat and lays down, wasted. You got in the passenger seat as you've had a few drinks and were definitely tipsy. Minho buckles you in and kisses your cheek. Once he gets in and buckles his belt, he drives to the house that he and Jisung own. Minho asked you to move in prior, but you declined, saying soon.

Minho drives carefully, trying to not make you or Jisung sick in the car. Parking the car, he got out and went to your side, opening the door for you. You smile at him and get out.

"Are you ok to walk, kitten?" He holds your hand.

"I should be ok. I'll wait for you in the bedroom." He nods and kisses your cheek softly. He opens the back door of the car and carefully gets Jisung out as you walk inside. After pulling Jisung out of the car, he carefully closes the door with his foot and goes inside. He brings Jisung to his room and carefully sets him on the bed. He takes the younger boy's shoes, shirt and pants off, rolling his eyes when he finds out Jisung wasn't wearing boxers. He dresses the boy in a pair of pajama pants and covers him with his blanket before leaving to go to his own room.

Minho finds you sitting on the edge of the bed, scrolling on your phone. He smiles and walks over to you, kneeling in front of you. You set your phone down and smile back at him. He slowly slides his hands up your left leg and under your dress, gently grabbing the thigh high stockings you wore. He slowly starts to slide it down your leg, not breaking eye contact with you. You shiver when his fingers gently touch your skin. He slips the stocking off before repeating with your right leg.

Standing up, he holds his hand out to you, helping you stand up. Once you stand, he turns you around and unzips your dress for you.

"So gorgeous in this dress.." He slips it off your body, letting it fall to the ground, leaving you in just your panties. "So gorgeous without." He leans down as he wraps his arms around you, softly kissing your neck. "How did I get so lucky with you, kitten? All those other guys vying for your attention.." he breaths against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "And I'm the one that won your heart over." He kisses up your neck to just under your ear, the tip of his nose ghosting your skin.

"You made me feel safe.." you breathe out, eyes closing. One of Minho's hands moves up to gently cup your breast, giving it a gentle squeeze. His other hand sliding down to the hem of your panties.

"Mm..I'll always keep you safe." He kisses behind your ear. "Let's go shower, my love." He slips his fingers into your panties, laying his hand flat against your belly before slipping his fingers back out, letting you go completely, making you whine softly at the loss of contact. You follow him out of his room and into the bathroom as he strips himself of his clothes on the way, starting the shower when he enters the bathroom. You slip your panties off, dropping them on the bathroom floor.

Stepping behind him as he was checking the water temperature, you wrap your arms around him, putting your hands on his pecs. You press your body right against him, your breasts squished against his back. He chuckles when you playfully squeeze his pecs a few times. He reaches down behind himself, playfully reaching for your core. You giggle and back away some.

"Mm, kitten wants to be playful it seems." He turns around and quickly grabs you, pulling you right against him. Wrapping his arms around you, he picks you up and wraps your legs around his waist. You wrap your arms loosely around his neck and he steps into the shower. He grins and steps under the water, getting you wet first.

"Kitten is wet in more than one place now." He chuckles and you stick your tongue out at him. "Don't stick that tongue out at me, kitten, unless you plan on using it." He smirks at you. You smile and lean down, slotting your lips with his, slipping your tongue into his mouth. He groans softly and you feel his dick twitch under you. He gently grips your ass a little as you make out. He gently readjusts you so he can slide his cock inside you, making you moan in his mouth. He pulls away with a smirk.

"Such a good kitten, taking me so well." He presses your back against the wall, bottoming out in you. "Who's good kitten are you, baby?"

"Ahh..yours..yours Minho. Only yours." You moan, feeling every inch of him that slips in you, filling you up.

"Good girl." You clench around him at the praise. He chuckles and leans down, attaching his lips to your neck, kissing and sucking marks onto your skin. He slowly starts to fuck up into you, gripping your ass. You moan out, tilting your head for him. Your nails gently run along his skin, the stream of water hitting his back making his skin slick.

He chuckles against your neck as he thrusts hard into you, making you gasp and moan. He kisses along your skin, leaving occasional marks. He leaves enough with the knowledge you'll have to cover them up come Monday. He grins as he picks up his pace, thrusting into you hard and fast. He coos at you when you moan and whimper. He can feel you getting close as you clench around him more.

"You gonna cum for me, kitten? Gonna be a good girl and cum around my hard cock?" He whispers in your ear, making you shiver despite being in a hot shower.

"Yes..yes. Wanna cum…" You arch your back, pressing your breasts against him. He grinds deep into you and you moan his name, cunt clenching around him hard as you cum. Minho latches onto your neck again and bites and kisses as he fucks you through your high before cumming deep into you.

"Good girl. Such a good kitten." He coos, peppering your face with kisses as you come down from your high, making you let out a breathy giggle. He helps you stand up, sliding out of you. "Let's get you cleaned up and head to bed. How's that sound baby?" He steps back under the stream, pulling you with him. You nod, getting sleepy. Minho smiles and carefully washes you and himself. He turns the water off and steps out of the cubicle. He wraps a towel around his waist and grabs a towel for you, drying you off.

Once you're back in his bedroom, he tosses on a pair of shorts to sleep in and grabs you a silky set of pajamas to sleep in, knowing they're one of your favorites. You lay in bed and cuddle up to him.

"Thank you for coming to Jisung's birthday party, kitten." He kisses your head.

"Of course, baby. I went for you, though." You cuddle as close to him as possible.

"I know, but still. Thank you." He rubs your back. "I do still hope that you two can be more friendly towards each other."

"Mm." You yawn, sleep finally taking you over. Minho smiles softly and kisses your head again. A few minutes pass and he hears a quiet knock on his bedroom door. He looks over and sees Jisung peeking his head through the door. Minho raises an eyebrow at him as the younger boy walks in and quietly shuts the door. He walks over to Minho's side of the bed and climbs in behind him.

"Sorry hyung. My room is cold and you're warm." Jisung said. He still sounded drunk, but could just be sleepy too. Minho laughs softly, trying not to wake you.

"You're fine. Just don't wake kitten." He whispers. Jisung nods a little, moving close to Minho. Minho chuckles a little as Jisung's hard on was pressed right against him. He sometimes forgets that his friend gets really horny when drunk. Jisung lays his head against Minho's back, the older man settles in, holding you close before he falls asleep himself.

——

Minho wakes up early the next morning, you and Jisung are still fast asleep in his bed. He carefully gets up, making sure not to jostle either of you, before leaving his room to use the bathroom then heading to the kitchen to make breakfast.

You turn over in your sleep, onto your side, facing away from the boy in Minho's bed. Jisung moves in his sleep as well, looking for Minho's warmth. He moves across the bed, finding you. He wraps his arm around you, thinking that you were his friend. You both sleep a little longer until Jisung wakes up, pressed right against you. He inhales deeply, smelling Minho's shampoo on you.

Jisung stretches and cuddles into you a bit more, thinking that you were Minho. He stays like that for a bit before he realizes that he's in Minho's bed, with you and not Minho, morning wood present, pressed against your ass. He scrambles out of the bed and lands on the floor with a thud, waking you up. You sit up and look around before you see him on the floor, hair a mess. You roll your eyes before glaring at him.

"What are you doing in here, Jisung? Minho put you in your bed last night." You cross your arms under your chest.

"I got cold and Minho-hyung usually lets me sleep in his bed when I'm cold." He snaps back, trying to hide his obvious morning wood. You roll your eyes again and get up out of bed. You leave the bedroom and head to the kitchen where you hear your boyfriend cooking. You walk up to Minho at the stove. You wrap your arms around his waist and lay your head on his back.

"Good morning, baby. Did you let Jisung sleep in bed with us last night?" You ask, interlocking your fingers around him.

"Mhmm. He said he was cold so he slept behind me. He usually does it when you aren't here, but he would have still been a little drunk." Minho says, flipping a pancake.

"Mm." You stay like that for a moment before letting go to get a drink. Jisung walks out when you get to the fridge, hair no longer a mess. He was still shirtless, his skin flawless, v-line on full display as he wore his sleep pants low.

"You're staring, Y/n." Jisung says, snapping you out of your thoughts. You look away from him and grab your juice from the fridge.

"No I wasn't." You pour yourself a cup, putting the container back in the fridge.

"Sure you weren't. I didn't see it with my own two eyes." He says dryly, rolling his eyes. "I know I'm hot, but don't stare." You turn your head to glare at him, taking a sip of your drink before walking back to Minho. Your boyfriend plates up some pancakes and looks at you, a soft smile on his face.

"Can you bring this to the table, kitten?" He holds up a plate full of pancakes. You nod and take it from him. You bring it to the table, Jisung immediately taking one and biting half of it, his cheeks puffing up like a squirrel. You roll your eyes, going back to stand with Minho.

"Oh, baby." You look up at him, he lets out a soft 'hmm?'. "You remember my friend, Felix? You met him at last year's Christmas party. It's his birthday today."

"I remember. I sent him a gift basket of baking recipes and the like last week as an early gift. We talked a lot during that party." Minho looks at you and smiles. He leans down and pecks your lips. Jisung makes a gagging sound and Minho just chuckles.

"Don't be jealous, Jisung. I know kitten is beautiful, but no reason to be jealous." Minho winks at his friend. Jisung makes another gagging sound. "Just think about what we talked about last night, if you remember what I said." He laughs before plating up more food, taking it to the table. Jisung shakes his head and sits at the table and eats with you and Minho.

——

The following Monday, you were at work. You worked at a company that helped promote idols, whether it was making images or trailers/videos, or anything that they needed, your company did it all. You worked with Felix, Hyunjin and Changbin out of a closed off office on your floor. You were the team leader for this specific section, but still answered to Chan, the manager of the floor. Chan had called your team into the meeting room for a quick meeting.

"Y/n, Felix, Changbin, Hyunjin. I called you in to let you know that we have a new employee, and I'm assigning him to your team." He sits back in his seat. "You're the best team I have here, so I know you'll do great with a new body on hand." You nod at him. He turns towards the door and waves his hand, indicating for the new hire to come in.

You turn in your seat, smile on your face as you're excited to see who your new coworker was, just for the smile to fade as soon as you see Jisung walk in. He steps inside and freezes upon seeing you. He swallows and steps up to the table that you are all sat at.

"This is our new employee, Han Jisung. Jisung, this is Y/n, our team leader of the group you'll be working for, Changbin, Hyunjin and Felix." Chan says, indicating to each of the boys as he stands from his seat. "Y/n will show you to your desk, and will give you the rundown of how we do things, and if you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask her." Chan smiles and leaves the meeting room. You sat there, still shocked. The other three members of your team all get up to greet their new member. Jisung greets them back, trying to hide his shock.

You stand up and look at Jisung. "Follow me, Jisung. I'll show you around the office." You leave the meeting room, Jisung follows behind not long after. You showed him some of the other offices on your floor, all managed by Chan, where the bathrooms were and where the break room was. You showed him where Chan's office was, his secretary and assistant's desks outside his office. You introduce Seungmin and Jeongin to Jisung before taking him back to your office where your team had already come back to.

"This is where you'll be sitting." You point to a desk at the end of the layout, opposite of where you sit. There were a few other empty desks closer to you, but you didn't really want him near you.

"Understood." He was trying to be professional in front of the others. By the time he settled in, it was time for lunch. You usually went to lunch with your team, so being cordial, you offered to take Jisung out. He looked at you, suspiciously, making you roll your eyes.

"I usually go to lunch with my team. You don't have to go." You stand up and grab your jacket.

"She really does, Jisung. She enjoys spending time with the team, even if she doesn't show it." Felix says, teasing you. You smile and roll your eyes again.

"If you're coming, then come. If not, then don't." You walk out of the office behind the other boys. Jisung hesitates for a moment before grabbing his coat and following behind you. It was Felix's turn to decide, and he wanted tteokbokki. You follow Felix to a table, sitting next to him with Changbin on your other side, Hyunjin across from Felix and Jisung across from you. You all place your order and sit quietly. Jisung chances a glance at you and sees your eyes flick to him. He makes a disgusted face and looks away from you.

Jisung chances a few more glances at you throughout lunch. He genuinely had thought about what Minho had said on his birthday. He did think that you were pretty, beautiful even. But you two had been fighting since you were kids. He honestly didn't think there would even be a chance for friendship given your history. When the food came, you all ate, the team started a conversation with Jisung. As your lunch hour came to a close, you and your team got up, you paying for their food, Jisung's included. He was honestly surprised.

You all walk back to the office, Jisung trailing behind you, the other three walking ahead of you. Jisung stares at you a few times on the walk back.

"I feel you staring, Jisung. Cut it out." You say without turning around.

"I'm not staring." He shifts his gaze from you. "Thank you for lunch, though." He says quietly. You simply nod. Going back up to your floor, you all go back to your desks, Jisung going to his before getting up to go to you. He needed help with his login as Chan hadn't given it to him, but had it on your desk. You get up and go around to his desk. You help him log in and show him how to use the programs he needs to use. That continues until the end of the work day.

"Can I ride home with you and Minho, Y/n? I took a cab here as I didn't know you worked here." He was quiet, not wanting to ask you for things.

"Ask Minho. He'll be here any minute." You look up from your phone, looking out for your boyfriend's car. Once he pulls up, you smile and get in the passenger seat. Jisung leans down so he can see Minho.

"Hyung, can I ride home with you and Y/n? I don't want to call another cab." He chuckles softly.

"Yeah, that's fine. Hop in." Minho says. He leans over and kisses your cheek as Jisung climbs in the back seat. The younger one makes a disgusted face again when Minho kisses your cheek. Minho laughs when he sees the face his friend makes. "What do you guys want for dinner?"

——

You were in your bathroom, taking off your makeup while Minho ordered pizza. Once your makeup was off, you changed out of your work outfit and into more comfortable clothes. One of Minho's oversized shirts that hung off your shoulder, and a pair of your sleep shorts, hidden just underneath Minho's shirt. You step out into the common area and Jisung covers his eyes from where he sits on the couch.

"Please put some pants on, Y/n." He peeks through his fingers.

"I am." You lift the hem of the shirt up to show off the shorts.

"Oh." Jisung lowers his hands. Minho walks in from the kitchen with three cups. You take one from him and thank him, smiling at him.

"I'm going to hop in the shower while we wait for the food to be delivered. It's already paid for, so when it gets here, just give him the tip money on the table by the door." Your boyfriend says. He kisses you softly after setting the other cups down.

"Will do. Thank you, baby." You kiss him back and he walks off to go shower. Not long after the water starts, there's a knock at the front door. You answer it and it's the delivery driver. You take the pizza and hand him the tip money. You notice him looking you over.

"What's a pretty little thing like you doing home alone like this?" He grins, leaning against the door frame.

"I'm not alone." You say, holding the pizza boxes. "I'm here with my boyfriend."

"I don't see anyone inside. So it looks like you're alone." He chuckles, trying to step inside. "And I don't think the old 'I have a boyfriend' card is going to work." You take a step back as he keeps trying to come inside.

"Ji..?" You call out, getting nervous. The delivery guy starts to reach for your arm, saying something that you weren't listening to. "Jisung?" You say calling louder.

"What?" He says coming around the corner to see you. He sees what's happening. "What's wrong man? Did my girlfriend forget to give you the tip?" He steps over to you, taking the pizza and setting it on the table by the door. He drapes his arm over your shoulder. The delivery guy looks between you and Jisung.

"This guy isn't your boyfriend." He scoffs.

"No, I am. Now if you'd kindly leave, I won't press charges for trespassing." Jisung watches him.

"Prove it then." This guy is getting ballsy. Jisung shrugs and turns you so you're facing him. He gives you a look that says 'trust me'. You didn't trust him, and really didn't want to, but you nod slightly and Jisung leans down, slotting his lips with yours. Your first thought was that you wanted to pull away or push him away, that kissing him would've been horrible. But it wasn't. His lips were nice and soft. He slowly licks your lips, asking for entrance. He wanted to be as convincing as possible to get the guy to leave.

You bring one hand up to his cheek as you open your mouth. He slips his tongue inside your mouth, one of his hands going to the back of your head, having you tilt your head back a bit to deepen the kiss. He tasted of cherries. You faintly hear the guy scoff and what sounded like the door closing. Jisung stepped closer to you, pulling you close to him at the same time as he continued to kiss you.

He gently bites your lower lip and you groan softly. He releases your lip and captures you in a kiss once more, his fingers threading into your hair, a soft moan slips from him into your mouth. You hear someone clear their throat off to the side of you and that's when Jising pulls away, his lips kiss bruised. You imagine yours don't look any better. Jisung wipes his lips on the back of his hand, putting on a disgusted look again. You turn your head and see Minho standing there just in a towel.

"Minho.."

[alba1221141]

Mary Janes

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.☁︎

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵

6

Jinx

“What an absolutely fucking tragic story.”

“Boy meets girl,” I say, flipping the book open and letting it smack the table with a loud thwack.

“They swap a couple of lines, maybe a little eye-fucking across the room, and then bam—marriage, murder, and melodrama. Honestly, Romeo and Juliet is just horny teenagers making bad decisions with a death toll. Kinda iconic, but also… pathetic.”

Y/N’s trying so hard not to laugh, but that little twitch at the corner of her mouth gives her away.

She glances down at her notebook like it’s suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world, but I know better.

I always know better.

“Come on, admit it,” I press, leaning closer.

“This whole thing is just Shakespeare projecting his wet dreams onto paper. I mean, would you throw yourself into a coffin for someone you just met?”

Y/N looks up, her face a little red, and gives me this look—half-exasperated, half-amused. “It’s supposed to be romantic,” she says, her tone just a little too patient.

“Oh, sure,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Nothing screams romance like poison and stab wounds. That’s hot. Super sexy.” I lean back in my chair, grinning.

“Although, I guess dying for someone is one hell of a flex. Bet Juliet was into some kinky shit.”

“Jinx!” she hisses, her eyes wide as she glances around the library, like the ghost of Shakespeare himself might pop out of the shelves and strike me down.

“What?” I ask, throwing my hands up.

“You think Romeo was all sweet talk and poetry? Nah, that guy was definitely whispering filthy shit to her under the balcony. Bet he was like, Juliet, you light up my world—now get on your-”

Y/N lets out this strangled noise, somewhere between a laugh and a groan, and covers her face with her hands. “You’re impossible,” she mutters.

But I can see her shoulders shaking.

“Impossible, but not wrong,” I say, leaning forward with a smirk.

“You know I’m right. Horny teens and bad decisions—they go hand in hand. Speaking of…” I waggle my eyebrows at her.

“You ever had someone wax poetic about you? Or, I don’t know, climb a fire escape to declare their undying love?”

“No,” she says firmly, her voice muffled behind her hands.

“Shame,” I say, tapping my chin. “You’re missing out. Although, honestly? If someone pulled that shit with me, I’d probably just drag them inside and—”

“Jinx!” she whisper-yells, her voice high-pitched and scandalized.

Her face is so red now I’m almost worried she’s going to combust.

Almost.

I grin, sitting back in my chair and crossing my arms. “What? I’m just saying. Life’s short. Might as well enjoy it. Or are you more of a ‘tragic, yearning stares from a distance’ type?”

She gives me a look.

The kind of look that says I’m pushing my luck.

But I catch the tiniest flicker of amusement in her eyes.

It’s faint.

But it’s there, and it’s enough to keep me going.

“Can we please focus?” she says, her voice trembling with suppressed laughter.

“Sure,” I say, picking up the book again and thumbing through the pages. “But I’m warning you now, I’m not letting Romeo off the hook for being the patron saint of bad decisions.”

Y/N leans back in her chair, pressing her lips together like she’s trying desperately not to laugh.

Her cheeks are pink, and there’s this quiet glow to her that tugs at something in my chest.

I ignore it.

“So,” I say, flipping the book open again with an exaggerated flourish.

“Are we supposed to write some revolutionary take on this mess, or is it just vibes and clichés? You’re the genius here, enlighten me.”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s that little curve to her lips, the one that makes her whole face soften. “Themes,”

“We’re supposed to analyze the themes, connect them to modern relationships, and explain why the story is still relevant.”

“Relevant?” I snort, leaning back. “Oh, sure. Because every teenager I know is out here marrying strangers after one dance and dying for them two days later. So relatable.”

“You’re impossible,” she says, shaking her head, but her voice is warm, light, teasing.

“Thank you,” I say, grinning.

She picks up her pen again, her focus shifting back to the notebook in front of her.

Naturally, I lean over, because how could I not snoop, but she slams it shut before I can even get a glimpse.

“Oh, come on,” I groan, clutching my chest like she’s mortally wounded me. “What’s the big secret? Writing a love letter? A sonnet? A tragic ode to unrequited love?”

“It’s not a secret,” she says firmly, though the way her fingers tighten around the notebook tells a different story. “It’s just not finished.”

“Uh-huh.” I narrow my eyes at her, my grin sharp and unrelenting.

“You’re not secretly crushing on Romeo, are you? Or maybe…”

My voice drops, dripping with mock drama. “Maybe you’ve got your own Romeo? Someone you’re tragically pining for?”

Her cheeks turn a brilliant shade of crimson, and her eyes dart everywhere except at me.

“Oh my God,” I say, sitting up like I’ve just cracked the biggest mystery of the century. “You do! Who is it? Come on, spill. I need to know everything.”

“There’s no one!” she protests, but her voice is high-pitched, and her fingers fidget with the corner of her notebook.

“Liar,” I say, my grin turning downright devious.

I tap my chin like I’m deep in thought.

“Is it someone in our class? That broody guy who always acts like he’s too cool to care? Or…” I pause, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe it’s a girl?”

Her pen freezes mid-air.

For a second, she looks at me like I’ve uncovered her deepest, darkest secret.

Bingo.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿

Y/N

I can feel my heart picking up its pace, a strange fluttering in my chest that has nothing to do with the subject matter at hand. Jinx’s words echo in my mind, her teasing lingering far longer than I’d like to admit. The way she looked at me, the mischievous grin on her face—it’s enough to make me squirm, but I won’t let her see that.

“No one,” I reply firmly, hoping the edge in my voice sounds more convincing than it feels. “I’m not—there’s just no one.”

She raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but she leans back in her chair, crossing her arms with a soft chuckle. “Alright, if you say so.”

I focus on my notebook, flipping a page with deliberate care. The task at hand should be enough to keep me grounded, and yet the thought of her knowing something I’ve never fully acknowledged myself unsettles me. It feels as though she’s pierced a part of me I’m still figuring out, and that makes me more uncomfortable than I’m willing to admit.

Still, I refuse to let that show. Instead, I straighten up, refocusing on our assignment. “Regardless, Romeo and Juliet is still a farcical tragedy,” I begin, keeping my tone calm and collected, but there’s a subtle bite to it. “The impulsiveness, the poor decisions—it’s a pattern in a lot of Shakespeare’s works. It speaks to the nature of youth, to desire, rather than rational thought.”

Jinx snorts, clearly unimpressed. “Oh, sure, I’m sure that’s exactly what Shakespeare was going for. Desire, right? More like he was just a horny old man trying to sell sex on the page. No wonder those two idiots killed themselves over each other.”

I nod, careful to keep my composure. “Yes. Desire, more than love. They acted on passion rather than considering the consequences. Shakespeare’s portrayal of love is often hyperbolic, exaggerated to the point where it’s almost abs-"

I get cut off by another snicker from her followed by, "You damn nerd."

I pause mid-sentence, blinking at her. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” she says, tilting her head, her grin widening. “You’re such a nerd, Y/N. Who even says ‘hyperbolic’ in casual conversation? It’s like you’re auditioning for a Shakespeare reboot.”

I huff, sitting up straighter. “It’s called having a vocabulary,” I reply, my tone clipped but teasing. “Maybe you should try it sometime.”

She gasps dramatically, clutching her chest like I’ve struck her through with a dagger. “Wow. Coming at me with the intellectual smackdown, huh? Careful, or I’ll start quoting Shakespeare back at you.”

“Please don’t,” I say quickly, holding up a hand like I’m warding off some impending disaster.

Jinx grins, leaning forward now, her elbows on the table. “Oh, but wouldn’t you love that? Imagine me up on a balcony, all, But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?” She pauses, fluttering her eyelashes for effect. “You’d swoon. Admit it.”

“I’d laugh,” I correct, refusing to give her the satisfaction. “And then I’d shut the window.”

She cackles, the sound sharp and chaotic, and it’s impossible not to smile. “Cold, Y/N. Ice cold. No wonder you don’t have a Romeo climbing fire escapes for you.”

I roll my eyes, flipping a page in the book to feign disinterest. “Not everyone needs a grand romantic gesture, Jinx. Some of us prefer substance over theatrics."

Jinx leans back in her chair, propping her boots up on the edge of the table like she owns the place. Her smirk is sharp, eyes glittering with mischief.

“C'mon, Y/N,” she drawls. “You’re telling me you wouldn’t want someone to show up, grand gesture and all, declaring undying devotion? Maybe a little dramatic fainting thrown in for good measure?”

I snort. “No. Definitely not. I’d find it mortifying.”

She tilts her head, feigning innocence. “What about some spicy poetry? Like, Oh, Y/N, your... uh, unparalleled intelligence leaves me trembling.” Her voice dips into a breathy almost smutty tone, and I roll my eyes.

“You’re insufferable,” I mutter, flipping through my notes.

“And you’re boring,” she fires back without missing a beat. “Where’s the fun, huh? You don’t think Juliet was secretly hoping Romeo would skip the iambic pentameter and just pin her to a wall?”

I look up, feeling my cheeks heat. “Jinx.”

“What?” she says, her grin downright wicked now. “I’m just saying. The whole woe is me, tragic romance thing might’ve been for show. Behind closed doors, she was probably like, Enough about the stars, Romeo, let’s talk about your sword.”

And I falter, my laughter bubbling up uncontrollably before bursting out so loud that it shatters the quiet of the library. The sound is obnoxious, and I can’t stop it, even though I know I should. Mrs. Clark, the poor librarian, scurries over to us, her face draining of color when she realizes it’s me—me—who caused the disturbance. Her eyes widen in horror, and I shrink back in my seat, wishing the floor would swallow me whole.

“Y/N,” Mrs. Clark says sharply, her voice quivering with disapproval, “This is a library. I expect more from you.”

I swallow, my throat tight, and I can barely meet her gaze. The silence that follows is suffocating, broken only by the scratch of Mrs. Clark’s pen as she writes us both a detention slip. “After school,” she mutters, her voice tight. She hands us the slips, one by one, and I want to crawl under the table, but I can't. Not with everyone staring.

I take the slip, my hands trembling, my face burning with the weight of the embarrassment. Jinx’s laughter, the one that started all this, has quieted, but there's still a mischievous glint in her eyes. At first, it seems like she's enjoying my discomfort, and I can't help but wish she’d be quiet for just a moment, let me process this in peace.

But then, her smirk fades. She glances at me, her expression softening as she catches the way my shoulders slump, the way I'm trembling. I try to blink back the tears threatening to spill, but they’re already in my eyes. It’s stupid, it’s just a detention, but the humiliation is unbearable.

Jinx doesn’t say anything at first, but I can feel the weight of her gaze on me as I struggle to hold back the tears. She slides out of her chair, slowly stepping closer, crouching down beside me with a quiet seriousness I’ve rarely seen from her. Her voice, when it comes, is low, almost soothing.

“Hey,” she says, her words gentle, like she’s trying to reach through the storm inside me. “It’s not that bad, okay? Detention's just... it's nothing. It’s temporary.”

I don’t respond, but I can feel the tears starting to burn in my eyes, and I just can't stop them. I keep my gaze fixed on the floor, trying to hide how I’m trembling.

Jinx doesn’t back away, though. Instead, she reaches out, her hand soft as it rests on my shoulder, the touch surprisingly warm and comforting. “Come on toots, let’s go,” she says, her voice so different from the usual teasing tone, like she’s saying it for me, not for her. “I’ll take you somewhere... just let’s get out of here, okay?”

I nod, my throat tight, and let her guide me out of the library. The hallways feel colder now, like everything around me is a reminder of how utterly humiliated I feel. But Jinx stays close, walking beside me, her presence steady and unwavering, like she’s determined not to let me fall apart alone.

She leads me into the girls’ bathroom, the door shutting quietly behind us. It’s quiet, the fluorescent lights buzzing faintly overhead, and for a moment, everything feels still. Jinx leans against the counter, watching me with a softness in her eyes that I’ve never seen before. She doesn’t say anything at first, just lets me breathe, lets the silence settle between us.

I break.

The tears come without warning, and I retreat to the corner, curling into myself, trying to make myself smaller. I press my hands to my face, desperate to hide the rawness of what I’m feeling. The sobs are quiet at first, but they soon escape in harsh, ragged breaths. The shame, the embarrassment—it’s overwhelming, suffocating. I feel completely exposed, fragile, and utterly out of control.

I don’t want her to see me like this. I don’t want anyone to. But she doesn’t leave.

There’s a quiet moment, just the sound of my breathing, of me trying to stifle the sobs. And then Jinx moves toward me, her steps slow, careful. She crouches down next to me, not trying to force anything, not speaking. She just watches me for a moment, her eyes filled with something tender, and then her hand reaches out. Her fingers brush through my hair, slow and soothing, the soft strokes almost enough to make me forget everything else.

"Shhh," she murmurs, her voice quiet, barely above a whisper. "It’s okay."

I can’t stop the tears. I don’t even try. But the sound of her voice, the feel of her fingers weaving through my hair, so gentle, so careful—it’s grounding. She doesn’t rush me, doesn’t tell me to stop crying. She just stays there, her touch like a balm for the rawness inside me.

After a long moment, she shifts again, her hand moving to wipe away the tears that have soaked my cheeks. Her fingers are gentle, each movement deliberate, as if she’s treating me like something fragile but important. Her touch is steady, patient, and it’s like she’s saying, without words, that I don’t have to hide. That I’m allowed to feel, to break.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿

Jinx

"C'mon, toots—it’s only an hour, alright? No big deal." I glance at Y/N, tucked behind me like a little puppy, her hand in mine.

It’s like she’s trying to disappear into the floor, and I don’t... I don’t know what to do with that.

I peek into the detention room, Mr. Wheeler’s already there, half asleep

Of course he is.

His glasses are dangling off his nose, like he forgot they even exist.

He’s ancient—like, fossil-level ancient—but whatever.

Doesn’t matter.

I yank the door open.

And there he is. Boy savior himself, sitting in the corner, all quiet and broody.

I waggle my free hand at him. Big, dumb wave. Like, hi, notice me!

Ekko’s head pops up.

His face twists into full-on confusion. Like, what the actual hell?

His eyes dart to Y/N behind me, all tucked in and quiet, and I can practically hear the gears in his head grinding.

I can see it.

The way his gaze softens, just a little, but then hardens again.

Like he’s trying to figure out how to act, what to say, how to breathe, maybe.

And I get it. I do.

Because once, a long time ago, it was the three of us.

Ekko. Y/N. Me.

Best friends.

And now?

Now we’re... this. Whatever this is. Unspoken crap hanging in the air like a bad smell.

After what happened—Vander’s death, Vi’s wrongful juvie sentence, and Silco taking me in...

Shit hit the fan.

Everything snapped.

The three of us? We used to be inseparable.

Me, Boy Savior, and Y/N. We were the kind of trio that people envied—always laughing, always plotting, always looking out for each other.

But after everything fell apart?

That trio was gone. Just... gone.

Ekko and I? We managed to reconcile. Somehow. It wasn’t easy, but we put the pieces back together.

Mostly.

But Y/N and him?

Never.

Whatever they had? Whatever we all had? It just crumbled. And they never found their way back to each other.

The air feels heavy. Like it’s pressing down on us.

Y/N’s hand squeezes mine. Tight. Too tight. Like she thinks if she lets go, she’ll just... vanish.

I glance back at her. Pale. Shaking. Her eyes darting everywhere except him.

Ekko.

The Boy Savior.

He’s staring at her like she’s a ghost. Or maybe a grenade. His jaw’s tight, hands fidgeting like he doesn’t know where to put them.

Say something.

Do something.

But he just sits there. Quiet. Staring.

It’s unbearable.

“Gonna sprain something, Boy Savior,” I snap, too loud, too sharp. “All that thinking’s dangerous, y’know.”

His head snaps up. Eyes narrow. “Jinx.”

That tone. Even. Calm. Like he’s the adult in the room.

Which he's not cause fucking Mr Wheeler's old ass is at the desk asleep now.

“What?” I throw my free hand up, grinning like a lunatic. “Just saying. You look like you’re trying to solve the meaning of life or some shit.”

Still nothing.

He glances at Y/N again.

And she flinches.

I can’t. I can’t with this.

“Seriously? We’re doing this? Now?” My voice comes out sharper than I mean. “It’s detention. Not a goddamn soap opera.”

“Jinx, stop.”

Her voice.

Soft. Cracked. Barely there.

I freeze. Look at her. She’s hiding behind me, eyes on the floor, her face red like she’s about to cry again.

My chest tightens.

Ekko’s watching us, his expression... weird. Guilty? Concerned? I can’t tell.

“Whatever,” I mutter, pulling Y/N further into the room. “Let’s just sit.”

I drag her to the far corner, away from him. Away from everything.

We sit. She tries to pull her hand away, but I don’t let go. Nope. Not happening.

“Uh-uh, toots,” I whisper. “You’re stuck with me.”

She doesn’t argue. Just wipes her face with her sleeve, all quiet and miserable.

Across the room, I can feel him watching.

Always watching.

And I hate it.

I hate all of this.

I hear a grunt and then...

"The hell is she in here for?"

Ekko’s voice slices through the tension like a blade.

Y/N stiffens beside me, her hand still in mine, like she’s trying to hide behind me.

“Y/N’s here because—” I start, but I don’t know how to finish that.

The fuck should I say?

“Because I laughed too loud,” Y/N mumbles, barely loud enough to hear.

Ekko blinks.

“You?” he says, voice full of disbelief.

“Apparently.” Y/N pulls her hand away from mine tucking them into her sleeves like she’s trying to hide.

I snort, rolling my eyes. “It’s ‘cause Mrs. Clark is a total cunt.”

Ekko’s eyes narrow.

His face hardens a little—like he’s getting pissed off, not at us, but at the absurdity of it. “She really gave you detention for that?” His voice drops, angry now. “For laughing? That’s... that’s fucking ridiculous.”

I nod, crossing my arms. “Told ya. Stupid.”

Y/N looks down, trying to disappear into the floor like she can avoid everything.

So, of course, I’m not having that.

I grab her hand. “C’mon, Y/N. Detention? Are you seriously gonna sit here like some sad sack when we could be out there making actual trouble?”

She gives me the side-eye, clearly hesitant. “I’m not sure—”

“Stop thinking, and just do,” I snap, tugging her toward the window. "I’m done with this place, and you should be too."

She hesitates again, her face a mix of nervousness and confusion. I roll my eyes. “Detention’s for losers, Y/N. And you’re not a loser. You’re a rebel just waiting to burst out.”

Ekko’s already halfway through the window, a grin plastered on his face like he’s got nothing better to do than burn this place to the ground. “C’mon, this is way better than sitting in that crap hole. You don’t want to miss it.”

I lean out the window, breathing in the night air like it’s the first breath of freedom I’ve had in ages. “You’re seriously gonna let this lame-ass detention keep you locked up? Or are you gonna live a little?”

She’s still stiff, unsure, but there’s a flicker in her eyes.

She’s fighting it.

I see it. She’s craving a reason to break the rules, but she’s scared.

I pull her closer, voice low but firm. “Look, it’s just one little jump, Y/N. What’s the worst that can happen? Get caught and get another detention? Big deal. You can always blame me. I’ve got it covered.”

Finally, after what feels like forever, she steps up.

Slowly at first, but then quicker.

She's in.

I laugh, watching her climb out. “That’s my girl,” I mutter, watching her face. There’s a spark in her now, and I can feel it.

She’s gonna love this.

We all slide out the window, landing in the cool night air.

Ekko shoots me a look, like we're all in on some big joke. “Now this is how you do it,” he says, grinning ear-to-ear.

Y/N looks at me, her face still a little stunned, but now she’s definitely feeling it. “I can’t believe we just did that,” she says, breathless.

“You bet your ass we did,” I say, with a grin that could cut glass.

“Best decision of your life. Welcome to the rebellion, toots.”

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.☁︎

authors note: the friendship has begun to progress slightly, more where that came from ;)

please like and reblog!

[gotta-winwin]

squidgame!wonwoo x reader

cw/tw: references to squid game, blood, guns, dark!wonwoo, lost!reader, angst, ambiguous ending a/n: squid game s2 has been living rent free in my head these past few weeks (yim siwan has reentered the serena residence as well) and i couldn't help but think... wonwoo frontman angst?

frontman!wonwoo feels immune to the gore and pain. He barely bats an eye now, watching the games run from his spot on the couch, observing through a large flat screen tv. It no longer feels real, as if he was just watching a movie. The sounds of those gunshots used to deafen both his heart and his ear, but now they’re strangely silent, missing his hearing altogether. 

frontman!wonwoo remembers how he used to cry over losing you, body shaking as he begged to the sky, his chest aching with love that had nowhere to go. A past long forgotten - until he’d wake up covered in sweat, his hands shaking, cupping an invisible face he could touch but not see. He barely remembers the reason he lost you - but he sees your face clearly. 

frontman!wonwoo, who never planned to have the job he had now. You had always praised him for being a hard worker, always able to climb his way to the top - even if he had to crawl to get there. It felt like a curse now, as he oversaw the games, a mask replacing his usual glasses. He wore contacts now - the feeling of your hands fixing his glasses that would always sit crooked against his face haunted him, even to this day. 

frontman!wonwoo, who justifies his actions by telling himself it’s not really his fault. It’s not like he’s physically killing those people, and they did give consent! He argues with the better half of himself that life was never especially kind to him, so why should he? In fact, life had been rather cruel - taking you from his reach and trapping him in this cold world. 

frontman!wonwoo scoffs at the people begging him to save their lives. After all, why should he? The question only infuriates him: he couldn’t even save the only person he’s ever loved in this life and they’re asking him to save them? Your disappearance and running the games had changed him - he knew, even if you did return, you’d never love this version of him. 

frontman!wonwoo brings in one of the triangle guards below him, prepared to scold them for going against the rules he had set - no communication with players, no matter the circumstance. He finds himself pausing, as he listens to their reasoning: something about the player being sick and needing the bathroom after hours, and for the first time in a long time, he feels his face relaxing. 

frontman!wonwoo doesn’t understand why he had let the guard off so easily. There was just something about the way they spoke, even covered under the heavy voice modulation, the tone and inflections tugged at his stomach and heartstrings. He found it odd and not at all like him. 

frontman!wonwoo, who slowly becomes entranced by the guard, watching their every move on footage, ignoring the games in front of him. His once calculated and orderly days crumble, leaving him grappling with the idea that just maybe, past!wonwoo was beginning to fight his way out again.

frontman!wonwoo, who starts ordering the guard in more often under the guise of ‘maintenance’ or ‘reprimands.’ He never speaks much, asking a few questions here and there - but instead he listens, ordering the guard to speak, to say anything, to tell him anything. He listens, wholly concentrated on their cadence, desperately trying to pinpoint where he’s heard it from. 

frontman!wonwoo, who hesitates to pull the trigger for the first time since he had first started working for the game. He stares at the young woman before him, her eyes quivering with tears, a brave expression on her face - staring death head-on. Lowering the gun, he gestures for her to run. Leave, he tells her quietly, a part of him still amazed at his own actions. 

frontman!wonwoo, who doubles down on the cruelty once he realizes he’s been slipping. As if he were trying to recondition himself, Wonwoo takes it upon himself to be twice as unforgiving, white hot anger directed solely at himself for letting his guard down. 

frontman!wonwoo, who looks at you with bewildered eyes as you take off your mask, dropping it to the floor as you stare down the barrel of his gun. You’ve had enough - unable to watch him destroy both himself and others, stepping in front of him with heartache coursing through your veins. His eyes widen subtly as he stares, mouth open, the muscles trying to remember how to speak your name. 

frontman!wonwoo, who calls out your name with a slight rasp, his throat closing up as he lowers the gun, arms falling uselessly to his sides. You look the same as the last day he saw you, staring at him with helpless eyes as you looked around, the piles of dead bodies staring back at you. 

At the end of the day, it was the stark contrast of seeing you surrounded by blood and death that jolted frontman!wonwoo out of his stupor. The sight was obscene, sinful (not in the good way) and just not right. His arms reached out to grab you as he neared, frantic eyes roaming across your features to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. 

frontman!wonwoo, who abandons his job and respobsiblites with your miraculous return. He doesn’t care about the target now on his back, happy to fight through fire and ice to keep you by his side - promising you the life he couldn’t give you before: normalcy. Wonwoo yearns for it, to regain the uneventful yet fulfilling life he had once shared with you, leaving the mess behind. 

[jellybell92]

Seven Minutes in Heaven

Word count: 2.6k

Schlatt and reader get stuck in a bedroom together :3 What will happen??

Contains some angst, but mostly fluff. I think I'll write another part and include smut 👀😝

Written for fem reader or gender neutral reader.

Schlatt's mouth falls open as we lock eyes across the room.

I choke on my beer and bring my hand up to stifle a cough. The bottle was pointing straight at me.

This can't be real, right?

“You and Schlatt, huh?” Tucker hollers next to me, his grin far too wide for my liking. Our friends in the circle cheer us on, making my cheeks burn up. Schlatt scoffs and rolls his eyes with a smirk.

Oh, it was definitely real.

“C'mon, guys. You're fucking kidding me, right?” Schlatt laughs nervously.

Glad he despises this as much as I do.

Ted shakes his head and points to the bottle in the middle of the room.

“The bottle doesn't lie, man!” He chuckles and glances at me with a devilish smirk on his face. I swear to god, once this is over and done with, I'm gonna fucking kill him.

“Well?” Ted asks dryly. His question is met with giggles and snickers all around us.

I stutter and feel my heart race. Of course Schlatt and I had to join in for the last round of spin the bottle. And of course the last game was fucking seven minutes in heaven.

Just my luck.

Schlatt slaps his knees and stands up from his spot on the floor, his smirk never wavering as he exclaims, “Alright, sweetheart, let's get this over with.”

He saunters towards the bedroom and glances back at me.

“You coming?” I nod and clammer to my feet, following him close behind and trying to ignore everyone's eyes on me. I awkwardly walk into the bedroom with him. My shoulders tense up as Ted shuts the door behind us and locks it.

That damn bastard.

“Alright you two!” He cheerfully exclaims through the door. “The seven minutes start…now!” He claps and shuffles away. I can hear voices giggling in the background.

Rolling my eyes and crossing my arms over my chest, I swivel on my heels to find Schlatt standing in front of me. He has that dumb smirk on his face and a hint of mischief in his eyes. His hands are stuffed in his pockets and his posture is alarmingly casual for a time like this.

My breath quickens as he looks me up and down.

“What?” I glare at him defensively, feeling my face grow hot.

“Nothing, toots. This is just funny. Who knew we'd end up here, huh?” He scans the room before his gaze returns to me again.

“Definitely not me.” I shake my head, huffing and running a hand through my hair.

“Hey, hey. Relax, would you? We don't have to do anything. Jesus.” He scoffs in annoyance, removing his hands from his pockets and running a hand over the back of his neck.

He clicks his tongue and goes over to the edge of the bed, sitting down and patting the space next to him.

“C’mere.” He huffs and glares at me. I'm frozen in place like a deer in headlights. My heart leaps in my chest.

“C’mon, toots. Sit with me.” He repeats sternly, patting the bed again.

I sigh and uncross my arms, sitting next to him and leaving some space between us. I breathe in and out slowly, trying to calm my nerves. I fiddle with my hands and place them in my lap, taking a moment to breathe and survey the bedroom.

The room is dark except for the warm light coming from the bedside lamps. Moonlight creeps in from the window to the left of us, emphasizing the dark blue paint on the walls and the soft grey comforter beneath us. The bedroom is decorated with a few picture frames and a couple of flower vases. Unlit candles are scattered across the dresser. The lamps are placed on either side of the bed, softly illuminating the walls and bouncing off Jay's skin. His usual dry, cocky demeanor fades as he stares off into the distance, his annoyance replaced by an air of quiet contemplation.

I realize that I'm staring at him and I quickly dart my eyes away, feeling that familiar heat rising in my chest again.

I shift on the bed and take in a deep breath. My shoulders relax a little as I look him over once more. His body slumps next to mine, clearly too tall for the short bed. His legs stretch out in front of him, the heels of his shoes digging into the floor, while his hands rest lazily in his lap.

He's such a giant. It's so cute how tall he is for his own good sometimes.

I chuckle to myself, unintentionally snapping him out of his trance. His head whips towards me, a goofy grin spreading across his face. Strands of curly brown hair fall against his forehead, and the stubble on his mutton chops catches in the moonlight, giving him an almost angelic glow.

His voice lowers as he leans down to speak.

“You know, ever since we were friends in high school, you've been nothing but trouble for me.” His eyes are playful, yet carry a hint of something I can't quite piece together.

I roll my eyes and smile. “In what way? Is this your idea of trouble, big guy?”

“No. This was just pure luck.” He gestures around the room and turns back to me. “But I'm just saying, you were so difficult back then. Always boy crazy and dramatic. I can't believe I kept you around for this long.” His words come out dry, but his eyes squint at the corners and the left side of his mouth curls up.

“Hey, for the record, I'm no longer like that. My bachelorette days are over.” I gloat.

“Oh really?” Jay smirks, straightening himself and shifting to face me. His knee lightly brushes against mine, making me shiver.

“Two months ago you were all over Kenan. I told you it was never gonna work out, toots. Someone didn't wanna follow my advice, and look where that got 'em?” His voice is tinged with arrogance. I laugh. He's totally talking about me, that smug asshole.

I throw my hands up in mock-defeat. “Okay, okay. At least I make an effort to go out on dates. When was the last time you even flirted with a woman, big guy?” I lean forward and smile mischievously, challenging his gaze.

“Hey, I have my reasons, okay.” He laughs, jutting his chin forward and pointing at himself. “I'm building my career, and I'm doing a damn good job at it, thank you very much.” He turns his nose up at me, sniffing his mustache.

Oh boy. Jay's cockiness was in full swing now.

He puffs his chest out and his lips curl into a playful sneer. “Besides, I make more money in a month than you’ll ever make in a year, bitch.”

I gasp exaggeratedly and chuckle. “Oh no, how devastating! Too bad I don't give a fuck about money.”

“Well, you better, because you can't come crying back to me when you're all broke and homeless, that's for sure.” Jay snaps back.

I laugh, playfully shoving his shoulder. My eyes light up with a sudden idea. “I've got it!” I sit up straighter, slamming my fist into my palm.

“I'll get myself a sugar daddy so I won't have to work a single day in my life! That kills two birds with one stone. Doesn't it, big guy? That way if I ever do become broke and homeless, you won't have to worry about a damn thing.” I smile at him triumphantly.

He chuckles and raises an eyebrow. “A sugar daddy? Who would be dumb enough to fall for that? I know more billionaires than you can count, sweetheart. And I'm certain they wouldn't even lift a finger for you.”

I laugh and blush, stretching my legs out in front of me and tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. He's really digging into me, isn't he?

“I'll make it work, trust me. Soon you'll be wishing you had the life of a free-loader. Just you wait.” Jay cracks up at my joke and shakes his head, leaning his hands on the edge of the bed.

“You're impossible, you know that?” he stares down at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

Jay's left hand takes up the space between us, his pinky brushing slightly against my hip. I swallow and try to keep my composure, staring up at his face with a gentle smile.

The clock on the wall ticks lazily, a reminder of the time slipping away from us. Had it even been two minutes? I couldn't even tell anymore.

His smirk slowly vanishes. He seems lost in thought again, staring down at the floor in front of us.

“What's on your mind, big guy?” I ask, leaning forward to get a better look at him.

He shakes his head and eyes me. “Nothing. Don't worry about it.” He smiles and holds my gaze for longer than expected. I see that twinkle in his eyes again. My heart skips a beat.

I look away and clear my throat.

“You know,” I murmur, my voice lowering. I circle my thumbs in my lap. “I admire how hard you work, Jay. If I had just an ounce of your ambition, I think I'd be in a much different place by now.”

A beat passes and I hear him breathing steadily, considering my words.

“You really think that?” His voice rises in surprise.

I nod and glance at him, catching his cheeks turning pink.

“Well, thanks, doll.” He inhales sharply, his chest expanding. “But, I can't take all the credit, you know. You’re the reason I even have this career in the first place. You've always supported my stupid ideas. Sometimes I wonder who I'd be if I'd just stayed in college with you. I'd probably be way more book smart and less…” he waves his hands in front of him, searching for the right word. “Less of an asshole, I guess.” He chuckles nervously, looking down and fiddling with his hoodie strings. A sort of sadness lingers beneath his words.

My stomach drops as I see his face falling. All I wanna do is kiss him and make him forget all about the regret seething through him.

I bite my lip softly. “Yeah, but, is that so bad?”

His head perks up at my question. He props his elbows against his knees and leans forward, meeting me at eye level.

“I put up with you, Jay. Even if you are an asshole sometimes.” I let out a chuckle and breathe in, choosing my words carefully. “But YouTube is all you've ever wanted. It's all you've ever known.” He nods in agreement, listening intently.

“If you had gone through college and graduated with me, then…” my voice cracks and my gaze wavers. “Then, what would you be living for?” My heart rate picks up and I feel sweat bead on my temples.

I take a good look at Jay. I can see the gears turning in his head. That glint in his eye is back and brighter than ever.

The clock ticks again, this time more daunting than before. The air thickens with tension. Jay's gaze never leaves mine. His expression is soft, contemplative, understanding. It's a rarity to see him like this -- so genuine, so open, and so entirely himself.

He speaks up, voice shaking slightly. “You know what I'd be living for, doll.”

He places a firm hand over mine and gives it a gentle squeeze, temporarily easing the trembling in my fingers.

“You know, don't you?” he whispers.

I swallow and nod, glancing at his thumb brushing over my knuckles. God, I just want to scream.

His eyes sear into mine so intensely that it makes my stomach churn. I can't take the sight of him and snap my eyes back to my lap again. My face burns profusely and my heart pounds in my ears. I can't think straight and I clench my hands tighter under his grasp.

What the fuck is happening?

“Jay…” my voice trails off. I'm afraid. Afraid of what this will lead to. Afraid of what this might entail. We've been friends for so long. We were practically inseparable since the day we met. Yet, when we did finally go our separate ways, something shifted between us. An unspoken awareness of something deeper, a tension that neither of us could ignore. Now, as I sit here, my heart racing and my chest heaving, I'm torn between the familiarity of our past and the uncertainty of our future.

And I knew he felt the same way.

Jay lifts my chin up. My breath catches as he stares into my eyes and leans in.

He brushes his lips against mine, angling my head with his. I whimper softly and deepen the kiss, snaking my arms around his neck and pulling him closer. His hands caress the small of my back, sending a chill down my spine. A tickle grazes my cheeks as his mutton chops collide with my skin. His hot breath fans across my lips and I realize that this is utter perfection. He's all I've ever wanted, all I've ever dreamed of for so long.

Jay pulls back and I blink rapidly, a wave of dizziness washing over me as I try to regain myself.

“Are you sure you want this? Are you sure you want me?” Jay asks, vulnerability dripping through his words.

I bring my hand around his neck to his cheek, grazing my thumb across his facial hair.

“More than anything.” I whisper. He leans into my palm and sighs contently, closing his eyes. I press my forehead to his.

“You know, toots, you're not half bad.” Jay smirks, a low chuckle rumbling through his chest. He strokes my hair, smoothing it flat.

“Is this your way of saying you like me?” I giggle and tilt my head, our noses brushing against each other.

“With every bone in my body, sweetheart.” He smiles and leans in to kiss me again.

We pull back and just sit there, holding each other. The clock ticks on in its methodical rhythm, steadying our heartbeats. Jay squeezes me tighter, gently rubbing my back. I close my eyes and hum softly -- reveling at the quite connection between us.

The door knob wobbles and snaps us back to reality. Ted bursts through the door with his hand covering his eyes.

“Alright, lovebirds! You can come out now!” He stumbles into the room with his arm flailing out in front of him, grasping for air.

Schlatt scoffs and gawks at Ted, dumbfounded. “You can look, you idiot. We're not fucking naked.”

“Phew. Alright!” Ted exhales sharply and uncovers his face. “Have fun, you two?” He teases, eyeing us cuddled up on the end of the bed.

“Fuck off, Ted!” Schlatt and I shout in unison.

“Alright, jeez.” Ted sighs and backs off. “Well it worked, didn't it?” He smiles confidently and shrugs.

He knew all along, didn't he?

Fucking bastard.

I couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all.

Schlatt stands up and takes my hand, dragging me out into the living room and leaving Ted scrambling behind us.

Immediately, we're bombarded with questions firing at us from all angles.

“Did you guys kiss?”

“How was it? Give us all the details!”

“Y'all totally fucked. Spill!”

“So you guys are a thing now, right?”

We just smile at each other and push through our friends to sit on the couch, trying to deflect everything being thrown at us. I blush and keep my eyes on Jay, who's equally as embarrassed.

“Guys.” he grunts, making everyone fall silent. “You can cool it, alright? Nothing happened. Nothing worthy of mentioning, anyways.”

They finally cut us some slack and go back to talking amongst themselves.

Jay sighs heavily and stares down at me, his eyes gleaming with that sparkle I now understand so clearly.

“You okay?” He smirks, a hint of concern flicking across his face.

I nod and intertwine his hand in mine. A comfortable warmth spreads across my chest.

“Yeah, never better.” I exhale and stare at our hands with a smile.

“This is gonna be a long night.”

A/N: This one took me a WHILEEEE! I hope y'all enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it 😘

[stinkysam]

Choi Subong “Thanos” - No winner.

Warning : drug and blood mention, talking about dying, stress

Genre : fluff / angst

Synopsis : You get anxious after the mingle game and Thanos tries to comfort you in his own way.

Reader : male (you/yours)

A/N : bold is in English. // I said (to y’all in my head) I wouldn’t write for squid game or Thanos but this fic came to me as I tried to sleep. Not as great as how I imagined it but it’s because I had to wait a day to write it. Don’t expect more fics for this fandom, this was an exception.

You knew Subong since you were kids, before you even got to school and even before his interest in rap. But despite this, you always had an on and off friendship over the years. Constantly arguing and separating only to come back to one another after some time.

His extravagant personality could often clash with your introverted one, and things got even more unstable between you two when he started his rap career and it got only worse with drugs.

He never asked you for money though, even after he lost everything, knowing you too had money troubles.

You didn’t expect to see him here, you knew he had lost all his money because of that YouTuber, but you didn’t think that man would’ve gone after your friend. You felt a bit relieved to see someone you knew, though the last time you saw him, you two had a fight. It was your fault. You said, a bit too tactless, that ‘it was stupid in the first place to listen to some random guy on the internet and trust him with all your money.’

He had only appeared for a few seconds on the giant screen, putting his vape in his mouth, before it showed someone else. You looked around you, trying to make yourself a path to find him amongst the hundreds of people in the room. You spotted his purple hair and called him, as he turned around and saw you, his eyes widened.

“My man !” He exclaimed, raising his hands in the air, walking toward you. “What are you doing here ?!” He asked, grabbing you by the shoulders, shaking you and then hugging you.

You weren’t really surprised, you’d often argue and leave mad only to see each other the next day and act as if nothing happened.

Since then, two days had passed, and by the third you were at your limit. The mingle game was over, Namgyu and some other player walked out of their room while you and Thanos walked out of yours.

“Welcome back, my friends.” Thanos said loudly, and Namgyu followed with a “Skrrt.” as he joined you two.

You sighed as you looked at all the blood splattered on the floor, you noticed a few players slipping on the puddles, making you sick to the stomach.

You all walked back to the lobby as they announced the imminence of the next vote.

While you waited, Thanos was sitting next to you, talking animatedly with Namgyu who acted just as energetic as him, you could tell the pills they had both taken were still doing their magic and the more you heard them talk about what the next games could be, the more you zoned out, spiraling.

There were three games left, and so many people were alive. Sure, a lot of them would die, but it won't be enough, right ? They surely won’t let a large group of people out of this place, so the games will probably be deadlier, and you know you won’t survive three more games.

You were the only one on the side of the room who had voted X, it was on your chest since the first vote. You looked at Minsu who eyed player 380, you knew he wanted to vote X like you, but he seemed too scared of Namgyu and Thanos to do so. Minsu seemed to look up to her, maybe he she voted X he would too ? But how could you make her vote X ?

So many people have voted O and all of them were dead set to keep on voting the same thing.

You felt even more trapped than you already were. Your heartbeat was increasing as you frantically tried to find a way out of here, to win, to escape somehow, looking around at whoever. Would he vote X ? And her ? And them ? No, maybe him ?

Namgyu saw you looking everywhere and gestured to Thanos who placed a hand on the back of your neck, stopping your thoughts.

“What’s going on my brother ?” He asked loudly, voice devoid of any stress or worry.

All eyes slowly turned to you. You looked at Thanos, the blue O on his chest. He never got mad at you for voting X, knowing you wouldn’t change your mind, you were as stubborn as him.

‘We’re all gonna die’. You wanted to say, but nothing came out. Instead your breathing got louder as everyone’s focus remained on you. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. You’re never gonna get out of here alive.

“Bro ?” Thanos called, his other hand going to your cheeks, squeezing them in hope for a reaction. “You there ?” He leaned closer, his eyes scanning yours but instead of giving him a reaction you just stood up and left, walking and climbing to your bed before hiding under the thin blanket.

Thanos looked at the others, they were as surprised as him but said nothing, they had already caught on what was going on.

“The fuck ?”

After a few minutes you heard someone approaching, climbing on your bed and laying next to you. You already knew who it was ; Thanos.

“What’s wrong, man ?” He asked, shaking you slightly. “Sleeping your anxiety away ? You’re still doing that ?” He laughed, remembering the time you admitted why you took so many naps.

You don’t respond.

“Come on, what’s going on ?" He nudged you again and with the lack of response he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer just to annoy you, he knew you wanted space, but he wasn’t going to give it to you.

“What’s bothering you ?” He held you tightly as you shifted, trying to pull away.

Finally, you gave up and poked your head out from the sheet, looking at him with a glare.

“Subong, we’re gonna die.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Woah, full government name.” He chuckled.

“It’s not, and I’m serious. It’s logical, so many people are still here, 001 kicked your ass in a second and he’s still alive with his group, with two marines, we can’t all survive, why would they allow that, only a handful if not just one is gonna survive and it’s not gonna be-”

“I’ll protect you. Don’t worry.” He said with a smile, confident in himself as he patted your head.

“You really think you can win.”

“It’s the rules, if we survive, we’re free. And debt free.”

“What if the rules say we have to make teams of two ?”

“I’ll help you win. I went with you in the mingle game, remember ?”

“But then we have to play against one another and the loser of the two dies.”

He stared at you before smiling and replying.

“Well, I guess you die.” He wiggled his eyebrows and booped your nose with his finger.

You rolled your eyes, unamused and turned away.

“I told you, I’ll protect you.” He added, snuggling closer to you. “We’ll survive, you’ll see.” He closed his eyes, relaxing with a smile.

“Can you let go of me ?”

“No.”

You rolled your eyes, moving your foot to kick him, only for him to kick you back.

“Shhh, accept the affection of the great legend Thanos.”

“Yucks.” You replied with a chuckle.