#never got it past a few hundred words but maybe this is his time. maybe it’s the erer era

[dinomight]

maybe it’s just the middle child in me but there is something so tragic about wu erbai and his relationship with erjing. like imagine constantly being overshadowed by your younger brother, constantly dealing with the fallout of his actions. imagine watching the person you love be in love with him, while he doesn’t even bat an eye at her. (imagine watching your nephew idolize him even when you’re the one who’s there.) and then along comes this man who wants to be yours. your right hand man. the person you trust. the person you depend on. the person who protects you. and as it turns out he’s just there to get back at your brother. he’s there for sanxing, not you. who would be there for you?

[azziesbattybaddie]

You are my survival

Azriel x reader

You and Azriel are mates. Az knows it, you don't, that is until a particularly hard training session when the truth finally come out.

Word count: 5k

Requested: no

Warnings: fem reader, shadow play, smut, swearing, choking kink, praise, Azriel's wingspan, oral F and M receiving, Az is a Dom, PinV, we die like men

🔥 means smut will follow

Authors note: this is the first WIP I've finished in like 2 or 3 years so be gentle on me I also wrote this with one of my friends on discord and she is absolutely amazing, constructive criticism is welcome and plz let me know if I missed any tags. Enjoy!

"Pay attention."

His words weren't harsh by any means. No, Azriel would never raise his voice at you, but he'd be lying if he said training you was easy. He watched as you breathed heavily, body glistening with sweat. You'd been at this for hours. Clearly, you'd underestimated just how difficult swordplay was.

"I'm trying my best"

He let out a small chuckle, watching your brows furrow with frustration as he managed to point his sword at your neck, Again.

"Gotcha."

"dammit!"

You threw your sword down in frustration and slinked over to the corner of the ring. Before hugging your knees to your chest and sulking.

"I'm done, I'm quit!"

Sheathing his sword, Azriel approached you slowly, his footsteps silent on the straw-covered floor. He stopped a few feet away, giving you space but close enough to offer comfort.

"Hey, hey now," he murmured softly.

"Don't give up just yet."

He hesitated for a moment before sitting down beside you, keeping a respectful distance.

"Training is hard, y/n. It's supposed to push you, make you stronger. It's okay to feel frustrated, but don't let it consume you."

He glanced at you, his eyes reflecting genuine concern.

"You're doing better than you think. You've improved so much since we started. It's just... progress takes time. And patience." He offered you a small, encouraging smile.

"And maybe some water? You've been at it all day."

"yeah well maybe I should train with someone else because your a thousand times better than me and you have 400 years of experience on me so even if I am getting better your skill just dwarfs mine..."

Azriel looked at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. He had expected such a reaction from you, and he couldn't say that he blamed you either.

"You underestimate yourself," he told you gently, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"It may take time, but you will get there. Just keep practicing and if you can't believe in yourself, believe in the fact that I'm starting to feel your progress in your punches." As always tried to joke with you slightly but seeing as he got nothing but a half earned smile he let himself fall quiet.

He sighed deeply, his gaze drifting down to his scarred hands fiddling with them idly. There were things he wanted to tell you, things he wanted to share about his past, but he knew you weren't ready for them yet. Maybe one day, when you were strong enough, he could tell you everything.

Following his gaze, you watched as he picked at his nails and cuticles. You had known Az for a few hundred years now and as long as you had known him he had never shared the story of his warped skin and you had never worked up the courage to ask, that was until now.

"can I ask you a question without you getting upset? You can tell me to screw off if you don't want to answer, I won't push." You said in a timid, whispered voice. Azriel turned to look at you, his expression curious.

"Of course, y/n. What is it?"

He kept his tone calm and non-threatening, not wanting to scare you off. Whatever it was, he would do his best to answer honestly.

"what happened to your hands?"

Azriel's expression softened, and he looked down at his hands, his fingers curling slightly as he remembered.

"My hands... They were burned by-" he let out a heavy sigh, flexing his hands under your gaze before continuing.

"they were burned by my brothers, many years ago. I was born a bastard like Cassian so I was treated differently, even by my so-called family. They it left me with these scars."

He lifted his hands, showing you the intricate network of burn scars that covered his palms and fingers. They were a constant reminder of his past, a painful chapter he would rather forget.

"what brings that question to mind?"

you reach to grab his hand but hesitated before touching him.

"I just always wondered if they were painful they still look painful..."He noticed your hesitation and gave you a reassuring nod, encouraging you to continue.

"It doesn't hurt anymore, physically at least. But sometimes, the memories can still be quite painful." He lowered his hands, his gaze returning to yours staying quiet for a beat.

"It's alright, y/n. You won't hurt me by touching them. I won't bite or as Cass would say 'i won't bite unless you want me too'" he says with a half honest grin trying to lift the mood slightly.

He held out his hand, palm facing up, waiting for you to make the first move. He wanted to show you that he trusted you, that he was comfortable with you touching him. "Go ahead, y/n."

you gingerly brushed your fingers over his scarred hand before taking one of his hands in both of your running your thumbs over the back before smile and saying softly

"They always looked soft still..."

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he felt his face heat slightly at the praise. He never wanted to feel anything other than your gentle touch on his scarred hand.

"Because of the burns, my skin never calloused so yeah I guess they are."

He turned his hand over, intertwining his fingers with yours. The warmth of your touch seeped into his skin, soothing the old wounds in ways he hadn't experienced in centuries.

"I never associated touch with comfort before. It feels like home." ' you feel like home' is what he would have said if he had the nerve but kept that thought to himself, thinking it to cheesey to say out loud.

His thumb stroked the back of your hand, a tender gesture that spoke volumes about the unspoken bond between you two. In that moment, the weight of his secrets and the darkness of his past seemed to fade away, replaced by a simple, pure connection with you.

you lifted your head to look at him only to find him already looking at you, your faces close enough to feel each others baited breaths.

Azriel's gaze locked onto yours, his heart pounding against his ribcage like a wild drum. The intensity of your stare was almost overwhelming, stirring feelings within him that he thought long buried.

He leaned closer, his lips inches away from yours. He could smell your scent, a mix of sweat and something uniquely you. It was intoxicating, making his pulse race and his resolve weaken.

For a moment, he considered closing the gap, pressing his lips against yours and losing himself in the warmth of your embrace. But he pulled back, breaking eye contact, reminding himself of the danger in such actions.

without thinking of the consequences of your actions you shot your hand out to cradle the side of his face turning him back to look at you and meet him with pleading look, begging him not to turn away.

Azriel's breath caught in his throat as he felt your hand cup his cheek, turning his face back towards you. He met your pleading gaze, his own eyes filled with a mix of longing and fear.

He wanted nothing more than to surrender to the desire burning within him, to lose himself in your embrace and forget about his past, his fears, and his responsibilities. But he knew he couldn't. Not yet, at least.

With a heavy sigh, he gently removed your hand from his face, his fingertips trailing along your skin as he did so.

"y/n, we can't," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"I care for you too much to risk putting you in danger. We need to focus on our training, on becoming stronger, you need to be ready for when hyburn attacks."

your pout deepened as you moved back slowly pulling your hand away from his reluctantly as you bit your lip trying to think of something to say to make him change his mind.

"Az we can still train and I've been getting stronger for years, why can't we just," you trail off, not knowing that words for the feeling you felt for him.

Azriel's chest tightened at your pout, a pang of guilt slicing through him as he cut you off. He hated seeing you upset, especially over something he had done.

"It's not because I don't want to," he assured you, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

"It's because I care about you too much. If I give in to these feelings now, it might lead to something neither of us is prepared for, not with so much at stake with war coming."

He paused, his gaze dropping to your lips before lifting back to meet your eyes.

"We're mates. I've known for a while but even though we were designed for each other. And right now with hyburn threatening to breach our borders, our lives and decisions can't be about love or passion-it's about survival"

you pull his face back to you for a last time before running the pads of your thumbs over his cheeks lovingly

"I know that az, but you are my survival. you said it yourself that your my mate, do you really think that I can live without my mate, without you?" You plead tears starting to form in your eyes.

The words hit him like a physical blow, leaving him momentarily speechless. Your admission cut straight to the core of his being, striking a chord within him that resonated with a depth of longing he didn't fully understand.

"You need my love..." he echoed, the words sounding foreign even to his ears. He'd never been loved, let alone needed. The idea was both terrifying and exhilarating.

"I... I don't know if I can give you that. I've never been loved, and I've never loved anyone the way I think I should. you deserve all the love there is in this world, and I don't think I can give you that."

His voice cracked with emotion, betraying the turmoil of feelings welling up inside him.

"you can,"

You step closer still holding his face you pull a hand away to grab his scarred one and place it on your waist and putting your hand on his chest over his heart gingerly.

"You have so much love in your heart that you can't help but let it spill over. You try to act so cold and calloused to everyone but we all feel you how much you love us. "

At your touch, Azriel felt a surge of emotion course through him, his heart pounding wildly against your palm. He stared down at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of deception or manipulation, but found only sincerity and vulnerability.

"You really believe that, don't you?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"That I have love to give?"

He hesitated for a moment, then placed his other hand tentatively on your waist. The warmth of your body seeped into his chilled skin, melting some of the ice that had encased his heart for so long.

"I want to believe it," he admitted, his gaze dropping to your lips once more.

"But I'm afraid of putting you in a dangerous situation that you never need to be in. Afraid of losing control and doing something that could harm you. We both know that my work is extremely dangerous and if you got pulled into that I would never fucking forgive myself"

"Azriel... Your the bravest male I've ever met, please don't stop being brave." You take a final step faces inches apart

Azriel's breath hitched as you closed the remaining distance between you, your bodies nearly touching. He could feel the heat radiating off you, drawing him in like a moth to flame.

"Brave doesn't mean fearless, y/n," he said, his voice low and husky.

"Sometimes bravery means facing your deepest fears, even when every instinct tells you to run." You whisper gingerly brushing you fingers over his leathers laying over his heart.

He reached up, his fingers curling around the nape of your neck as he tilted your head back slightly. His thumb brushed against your lower lip, sending shivers down your spine.

"I'm just scared of failing you, of not being able to protect you. But I'm also scared of missing this chance, of letting my fears hold me back from trying to give us the life the cauldron has laid out for us."

"Then don't let your fears hold you back Az, let me hold them instead." You hold his hand over your cheek and guide his thumb over your lip again gently.

Azriel's resistance crumbled under your gentle guidance, his thumb gliding over your soft, plump lips with a tenderness that surprised even him. He leaned in closer, his nose brushing against yours as he savored the scent of your skin, the warmth of your breath.

"cauldron..." he murmured, his voice thick with longing.

he closed the final inch of distance, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was both tentative and desperate, holding your sides as delicately as fine china.

🔥🔥🔥

you surge you hand up to tangle in his hair and let out an audible cry of relief into his mouth.

Azriel groaned softly into the kiss as your hand tangled in his hair, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure through him. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his body as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping across your lips to explore the warm cavern of your mouth.

As he kissed you, Azriel felt a weight lift from his shoulders, a burden he hadn't realized he carried until it was gone. In your embrace, he found a sense of peace, of belonging, that he had never known before.

Breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead against yours, panting lightly as he struggled to catch his breath. "Y/n, I've wanted this for so long," he confessed, his voice rough with emotion.

"Wanted to hold you, touch you, taste you now."

"then don't fucking stop now." You practically begged, chasing his lips.

Your impassioned plea sent a jolt of desire through Azriel, his grip on you tightening as he ground his hips against yours, the hard length of his arousal pressing insistently against your belly.

"Oh, god, baby," he gasped, his breath hot against your skin.

"I won't stop, not now, not ever again." His hands trailing down to your ass, gently kneading the flesh under your fighting leathers.

"You're mine, and I'm going to fuck you so hard, make you scream my name until you forget everyone else exists."With that declaration, Azriel swept you up into his arms and winnowed you back to the house of wind before.

carrying you towards his bedroom as he devoured your mouth in a frenzy of kisses, his hands roaming your curves with a hunger that bordered on desperation. your legs wrap around his waist as he carries you and you press your breasts against his chest, mewl desperately against his lips.

The sound of your moans vibrating against his lips was music to Azriel's ears, fueling his already raging desire. He kicked open the door to his bedroom, his eyes burning with a fierce intensity as he laid you down onto the plush mattress.

"Gods, babygirl," he growled, his hands tracing the outline of your curves as he knelt beside you, his eyes devouring every inch of your exposed flesh. "You're so beautiful, so perfect..."

Without another word, he began to undress you, peeling away each layer of your leathers with a reverence that belied his usual cool demeanor. As he revealed your skin to his hungry gaze, he marveled at the sight, at the swell of your breasts, the curve of your hips, the sweet dip of your navel.

"And you smell divine,"

Azriel couldn't help but lean down, his tongue darting out to trace a path along the delicate line of your collarbone, savoring the taste of your skin. He licked and nibbled his way down your body, pausing to lavish attention on each breast, his tongue swirling around your nipples before taking them into his mouth, sucking gently.

His hands weren't idle either, slipping down to cup your ass, squeezing the firm flesh as he continued his descent. His shadows hooked around the sides of your panties, dragging them down your thighs with a teasing slowness that left you squirming beneath him.

"Tell me what you want, baby," he whispered against your skin, his voice a husky murmur.

"What do you crave? Tell me how to make you come undone?"

you reached down to Palm the tent in his fighting leathers at the words and using your other hand to wrap the scared flesh of his hand around your throat.

"I want you to use me, own me Azriel."

At your command, Azriel's heart pounded with a wild rhythm, his cock throbbing in your grasp. He allowed you to control his movements, his hand tightening around your throat in a gesture that was both possessive and protective while one of his larger shadows gently brushed against the side of your face in stark contrast.

"You're mine now, babygirl," he breathed, his voice laced with raw need.

"And I plan to worship every gods-damned inch of you."

With that promise, he slid down further, his lips trailing kisses along your inner thigh, his breath hot against your sensitive flesh. He paused just above where you needed him most, his eyes locking with yours as he teased you mercilessly.

"Do you want more?" he asked, his voice a seductive whisper. "Do you want my mouth on you, tasting you?"

"gods yes please!" You hold his hand tightly around his throat encouraging him to squeeze harder what you arch your back of the bed in hopes of inching your cunt closer to his mouth.

Azriel's grip around your throat tightened slightly at your eager response, his thumb applying just enough pressure to send a thrill of excitement through you. With a low growl, he finally gave in to your pleas, his mouth descending upon your dripping folds.

He lavished your pussy with attention, his tongue delving deep inside you as he fucked you with slow, deliberate strokes while flicks of dark swirl around your clit. He explored every inch of your sex, savoring the taste of your arousal, the feel of your slick walls clenching around his tongue.

As he ate you out, Azriel's free hand roamed your body, palming your breasts, pinching your nipples, leaving trails of fire and cold in its wake. He could feel your climax building, could taste your sweet submission on his tongue, and it only fueled his own desire.

"come on babygirl, ride my face while you come."

He brought one of your hands to tangle in his hair and wrapped his arms around the tops of your thighs encouraging you to buck into his tongue.

Your hips bucked off the bed as you came hard on his tongue, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave, your juices flowing freely as you cried out his name, your fingers tangling in his hair, holding him close.

Azriel drank in your release, his tongue lapping up every drop of your essence as he savored the taste of your pleasure. He held you tight, his mouth never leaving your pussy as you rode out the waves of your orgasm, your cries of ecstasy music to his ears.

Only when you finally went limp did he release you, his face glistening with your arousal. He crawled up your body, his chocolate eyes blazing with a fierce possessiveness as he claimed your mouth in a searing kiss.

"Now it's my turn," he growled against your lips, his hands tearing at his leathers to free his straining cock.

"Get on your knees, baby, I want to fuck that pretty mouth of yours."

You eagerly roll onto your stomach and push yourself off the bed and onto your knees Infront of him batting your lashes and staring up at him with lust filled eyes.

Azriel watched you move, his heart pounding with a mix of desire and admiration. Your eagerness was intoxicating, fueling his own need even further. He discarded his leathers completely, revealing his veined cock, throbbing with need.

Azriel's breath caught in his throat at the sight of you kneeling before him, your eyes filled with hunger and desire. He ran a hand through your disheveled hair, his fingers tangling in your locks as he guided your head towards his aching cock.

"Open wide, love," *he murmured, his voice thick with need.

"Show me how much you need me."

you took him into your mouth, Azriel let out a low groan, his hips bucking involuntarily. Your warm, wet mouth felt like heaven, and he had to fight the urge to thrust too hard, too fast. Instead, he set a steady pace, his hands guiding your head as you sucked the tip every time he pulled out.

"Fuck, good girl," he gasped, his grip tightening in your hair. "You fucking feel incredible..."You moaned softly as you took him deeper into your mouth working your tongue over his cock, your hands reaching up to cup his balls as you continue to suckle on his cock.

The sensation of your tongue working over his length, coupled with the feeling of your hands on his balls, sent jolts of pleasure coursing through Azriel's body. He watched you, entranced by the sight of your lips stretched around his cock, the sound of your soft moans vibrating against him.

"That's right, baby," he purred, his voice heavy with lust.

"Take all of me... Show me how much you want this..."

He began to move faster, his hips rocking into your mouth, setting a rhythm that had him teetering on the brink of release. His fingers threaded through your hair, urging you on, pushing you to take him even deeper.

"fuck yes! Good girl, just like tha- oh such fucking good girl!"

You moan louder now sending subtle vibrations down his shaft, your cheeks hollowing out as you suck harder on his cock, taking him deeper each time until he hits the back of your throat. You gag softly but quickly recover and continue sucking him off as if your life depends on it.

The feeling of your throat constricting around his cock was almost too much for Azriel to bear. He grunted, his hands gripping your hair tighter as he fucked your mouth with abandon, his hips snapping forward with each thrust.

"Oh gods, baby..." he groaned, his voice ragged with need.

"You're going to make me come so fucking hard..."

His cock throbbed in your mouth, signaling his imminent release. With a final, powerful thrust, he spilled his seed into your willing mouth, his cum coating your tongue and spilling down your chin.

"That's it... Swallow it all..."

Swiping your fingers over your chin you collect the molten cream and swallow every last drop of his cum, your throat working to milk him dry, your eyes locked on his as you gaze up at him with a look of complete satisfaction and devotion.

Azriel watched, transfixed, as your throat bobbed swallowing his cum, your tongue working to milk him dry. He let out a satisfied sigh, his fingers gently stroking through your hair as he admired the look of complete satisfaction on your face.

"You're amazing," he murmured, pulling out of your mouth and offering you a hand up.

"I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did."

With a smile, he pulled you into his arms for a deep, passionate kiss, his hands roaming over your body as he savored the taste of you still lingering on his tongue.

You lean into his touch, your body pressed tightly against his as you kiss him back just as passionately, your hands running over his chest, feeling the muscles beneath his skin.

Azriel dominated you mouth with a throaty moan, his hands exploring your curves with a growing urgency. He broke away from the kiss only long enough to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, savoring the taste of your skin.

"I want more," he whispered huskily,

"but I think we should save some energy for later."With that, he lifted you effortlessly, carrying you back to the bed where he laid you down, his eyes darkening with desire as he looked down at you.

You giggle lightly as he lays you back down on the bed, your legs parting slightly as you invite him closer.

Azriel's gaze followed the movement of your legs, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he saw the invitation in your eyes. He climbed onto the bed, settling between your thighs, his weight supported on his elbows as he gazed down at you.

"Impatient little thing, aren't you?" he teased, his voice low and playful.

He leaned down, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened peak before giving it a gentle bite.

"But don't worry, love. I plan to take full advantage of that"

Feeling your hands in his hair, Azriel gave a low chuckle, the vibration of his laughter traveling straight to your breasts. He continued his attentions, alternating between teasing your nipples and tracing patterns across your skin with his tongue.

"Hmm, sounds like someone wants more," he murmured, his voice muffled against your flesh.

Pulling back slightly, he shifted his position, aligning his cock with your slick entrance. Without another word, he pushed inside you, filling you completely with a single, smooth stroke.

You arch your back, pressing your breasts back into his waiting mouth as he teases and bites at your sensitive nipples, a soft moan escaping your lips. Your hands find their way to his hair, tangling in the strands as you pull him closer, desperate for more of his touch.

"Fucking hell, babygirl..." he groaned, his hips beginning to rock slowly as he adjusted to your tight warmth. impatience."

He moved to your other breast, lavishing the same attention upon it, all while grinding his hardening cock against your core. Your back arches off the bed as he fills you, a sharp gasp leaving your lips at the sudden intrusion. But as he begins to move, slow and deliberate, you relax into him, your inner walls clenching around his thickness.

"Ah... yes..." you breathe out, your hands tightening in his hair.

"Just like that... Don't stop..."

Hearing your plea, Azriel picked up the pace, his hips snapping forward with increasing urgency. Each thrust drove him deeper into your welcoming heat, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

"Gods, you feel incredible," he growled, leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue dueling with yours as he fucked you relentlessly.

His hands roamed your body, squeezing your ass cheeks, tracing the curve of your waist, and finally, cupping your breasts once again, thumbing your nipples into stiff peaks.

You meet his kiss with equal fervor, your tongue dancing with his as you lose yourself in the sensation of being filled so completely. Your legs wrap around his ass, pulling him even deeper within you, urging him on.

"Oh god, Azriel!" you cry out, your walls spasming around him, milking him for all he's worth.

Feeling your orgasm ripple through you, Azriel let out a guttural roar, burying himself as deep as he could go as he found his own release. He came hard, pulsing streams of hot cum inside you, his body shuddering with the force of it.

"baby Fuck, y/n-" he gasped, collapsing forward, catching himself on his elbows to keep from crushing you before pulling out and gently resting himself on top of you, his hips still between your legs and his head resting on your breasts.

He stayed there for a moment, panting, his heart pounding against your chest, before slowly rolling to the side, taking you with him so you were draped across his chest.

"That was... intense," he panted, his fingers trailing lazily up and down your spine.

"Are you okay, baby?"

"Yeah... That was amazing." you murmur, snuggling closer to him, enjoying the afterglow of their lovemaking.

As you lay there, spent and satisfied, your the aftershocks of your orgasm. You nod weakly, a contented smile tugging at your lips.

Azriel smiled, his fingers gently stroking through your hair as you nestled against him. He could feel the warmth of your body pressed to his, the steady beat of your heart against his chest.

"I know, baby," he said softly, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your forehead.

"And it's only going to get better from here."

His hand trailed lower, his fingers finding your hip, where he gave a gentle squeeze.

"Now rest, we've got plenty of time to explore more later when you can feel your legs again." He taunted with a tired grin.

You sigh contentedly with a fucked out smile on your face, feeling utterly relaxed and loved. You close your eyes, letting the warmth of his body envelope you, and drift off to sleep in his arms.

Watching you drift off to sleep, Azriel couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the moment. Here, in his embrace, safe and protected, with his beautiful mate, it was everything he could ever want. And now, it seemed, he had it all.

With a final lingering look, he allowed himself to relax fully, his breathing evening out to match yours. As he drifted toward sleep, he knew one thing for certain - this was just the beginning.

[benedictscanvas]

pretty boy, pretty girl - jamie tartt x reader

pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader

word count: 2.1k

a/n: okay yes. it has been six months. which is actually mad to me, but there we are - whoops! i've been off following my dream and wrote this while procrastinating an assignment, so this is by no means a return!! honestly i was just itching to write it, but i don't know how much time i have for more - enjoy nevertheless <3

warnings: just a little bit of suggestion towards the end, reader is referred to as 'pretty girl' as the title implies amongst other pet names, quite a lot of swearing (some things don't change)

---

“Hi love.”

Jamie barely murmurs it as he walks past you, can’t help himself but to drag a palm along your back, one shoulder blade to the other, as he goes. 

He knows he’s bold sometimes, but he swears it’s instinct. He glances back to see whether your expression holds any discomfort, but all he finds is your grin, a tiny wave. He continues on his path towards the canteen, knowing that your corridor conversation with Rebecca is probably important.

Somewhere between here and there, he decides to get your lunch, your usual, and sits alone on a table until you appear.

You do, three and a half minutes later. As soon as he sees you, the irrepressible urge to make you grin again is back with a vengeance. He waves you over to his table with a gesture to the food he’s got for you and- there it is again.

If he was a slightly smarter man, maybe he’d consider why all it took was the sight of him to draw your lips upwards, set your eyes alight.

“Thought I’d save y’ from the queue,” he speaks, still soft, in a tone he feels he only uses with you. You match his unnecessary low volume.

“Thanks, angel,” you say easily, and you must not see his stomach doing flips, “Too good to me, you are.”

“Shut up,” he deflects, wonders if you can see him fluster at your nickname for him, “Are you still coming tonight?”

You groan. He frowns, and you quickly correct.

“Sorry. It’ll be fun.”

“Yeah, you sound proper convinced, an’ all.”

You chuckle, taking a bite out of your sandwich and taking a pause to chew. Jamie eats too, content to let you think before you speak. It was slowly teaching him to do the same.

“I’m just boring, Jamie. My favourite people are all under this roof, but usually they’re sober, you know?”

He often forgets you don’t really drink. Your friendship (however sour that word feels in relation to you) usually confined to these halls, to the pitch, to various football stadiums up and down the country. When they all get a chance to let loose, you’re very quick with the excuses, but he’s believed them blindly until this moment.

“Shit, y’ don’t drink, right? I can’t imagine that’s much fun in a club. I won’t tell anyone if you happen to come down with an illness or somethin’ this afternoon.”

You’re grinning at him again, all bright and sunny. It’s downright infectious, so Jamie nudges your foot with his on purpose and then apologises like it’s an accident.

“You’re alright,” you reassure, “I will join tonight. Even if it just proves to myself I’m not missing out on anything. Maybe Colin’s not as bad a drunk as I’ve been led to believe.”

Jamie winces.

“No, he is pretty bad,” he admits and then finally comes up with something to make you more comfortable, “Hey, what about this? I won’t drink either and we can spend the evening laughin’ at everyone else.”

You poke his hand and he tries not to drop his crisp packet.

“It’s everyone’s ‘relax and recharge’ night, Ted said. We both know you relax much easier with a few drinks in you. And I’d never judge anyone for that, I really hope it doesn’t come across like I’m judging any-“

“It doesn’t, sweetness,” he cuts in, “But actually, I’ll relax better if I’m one hundred percent positive that you’re relaxing too. What better way than judgin’ everyone else, together like?”

You purse your lips thoughtfully, mid-chew. He feels like he’s holding his breath, like he’s underwater and you’re in charge of the oxygen tank.

“Well, see how you feel when we’re there. It sounds lovely but only if you’re still up for it when we’re right next to a bar,” you say, still unconvinced. He wants to convince you fully, but he can’t decide if he should argue with you or kiss you silly before you speak again, “Hey, if not, I’ll buy you a drink?”

“Pretty sure that’s my line, love.”

“I said it, I meant it. Girls can buy drinks for pretty boys, you know.”

He thinks you might have removed his oxygen tank now. There’s some cruelty in that sentence but you don’t know you’re wielding it. He wills himself to flirt back even though it’ll only make him feel sick.

“Okay, pretty girl. One passionfruit J2O, please.”

Another grin. He’s so fucking fucked.

---

He’s been waiting for you for around forty minutes. He doesn’t know if that’s the normal amount of time you take to get ready, even if he wishes he knew, so he just waits, leaning against his car.

After fifty, he decides there’s no harm in just checking you’re alright and haven’t slipped on a sparkly floor that an evening cleaner has done a number on.

You mentioned going to the kit room to get changed, and he meets Will on his way there.

“Hey mate, you seen Y/N?”

Will looks paler than he’s ever been. Guilty. Jamie narrows his eyes and waits.

“Kit room.”

It’s all that Will says. When Jamie doesn’t walk off immediately, still waiting for an explanation for Will’s strange demeanour, Will turns around and legs it all the way down the corridor, turns left at the end and never returns.

Jamie shakes his head and continues in the direction of the kit room. The closer he gets, the more he hears. Muffled banging, shouting. He picks up the pace.

“Y/N? Love?”

“Jamie! Jamie, in here!”

Your voice floats out from the kit room and he hurries over. Still very confused, Jamie turns the door handle and finds the door won’t budge, however hard he shoves his shoulder against it.

“It’s locked, babe. Did you lock it?”

He hears your exasperated sigh and feels a little embarrassed.

“No I didn’t bleeding lock it! Well, I did, when I was getting changed, but then when I unlocked it my side it had been locked from the outside.”

Jamie struggled to put the dots together. Had Will locked you in? Judging by the running, he had… and he’d done it on purpose. A spark of anger shot down Jamie’s spine but he tried to convince himself there must be a reason.

Before he could, there was a hand on his on the door, pulling him away. It was being unlocked by another hand and then he was being shoved inside, hard enough to stumble against one of the benches. A piece of paper was thrown at his face and Jamie groaned as he heard the lock click back in place.

“What the fuck?” he muttered as he stood up fully, more dazed than angry now as he stared at the locked door.

“Jesus, Jamie, are you alright? Who the fuck was that?”

“I dunno,” he says, staring at the door as if it might have answers. Your hand on his face wakes him up, his eyes shifting to yours where you look him over with concern.

“You’re alright, though?”

You ask it like you need the answer, and Jamie needs you to stop trailing a finger along his hairline either way.

“Fine, love,” he assures you, patting the juncture between your shoulder and neck gently until your hands drop to your sides. Then he raises his voice, and he’s not really talking to you anymore, “Whoever’s locked us in here as some kind of joke won’t be fuckin’ alright though!”

No answer. He picks up the small piece of paper from the floor and reads it in his head.

Tell her, you prick.

He’s actually going to hit Roy with his car. Lightly, definitely not enough to damage him, but enough to really, really piss him off.

This was all some ridiculous attempt to make him tell you how he felt about you? Absolutely not. Never. He wouldn’t be coerced into something so delicate, so important.

“What’s it say?”

You’re peering over the top of the paper, but he folds it in two before you can read anything. His chuckle comes out strained.

“It says: Get fucking pranked. Must be Roy, he’s probably scared Will into helpin’ him, the fucker. I’m afraid it’s payback for putting all his socks on the ceiling last week, babe, an’ you’ve been caught in the middle.”

You pause, staring at your shoes. For some reason, you look far more forlorn than the situation calls for, but it’s gone before he can think about it further.

“On the ceiling?”

He nods and you giggle. It’s only as you step away from him in your laughter that he realises how close you had been. He should’ve savoured it.

It’s also only as you step away that Jamie finally gets a glimpse of your outfit and nearly reaches out to the nearby bench for strength. He’s never seen you in a v-neck anything before, let alone a dress, and he thinks it might do him in.

“You look good,” he says lamely, then tries again, “Great. Fan-fuckin’-tastic, I mean.”

“I like that last one,” you smile, ducking your head. He thinks, or rather hopes, you’re a little flustered, “Fan-fuckin’-tastic happens to be what I was going for.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, words gone as soon as he’d found them. And now he was staring. Shit.

“I like your suit,” you say, maybe breathless yourself. It must be his ears. You reach up as if you might fiddle with his lapel but just point towards it before your hand drops again. You practically fall down onto the bench you’re both stood beside and he follows, ever obedient, “Shame no one else will ever see it. How long do you think we’ll be stuck here?”

The suit isn’t for anyone except you. That’s what he’d say if he had any stupid bravery. He’s an awful coward, he thinks.

“Until Roy gets bored or Keeley finds out I reckon,” Jamie guesses, “Y’ wanna play I-spy?”

You sigh, but when he peeks at you out of the corner of his eye, you’re grinning your silly, lovely grin again.

“I spy with my little eye…”

---

It is around 11pm, when Jamie has not long fallen asleep against the jacket he had scrunched behind his head, that he feels your hand on his ankle. He can tell, as he wakes without opening his eyes, that you’re not trying to rouse him. The touch is light, feathery. Maybe an accident.

No, not an accident. It wouldn’t have lasted this long, and your thumb is drawing absentminded circles into his ankle bone. You think he’s asleep and you’ve reached out to hold him anyway.

He opens his eyes but doesn’t move. His legs are stretched out on the bench in front of him and you sit upright next his sock-clad feet, one hand on his bare ankle. You’re staring at a piece of paper so intently he wonders what could possibly be so interesting.

“This doesn’t say get fucking pranked, Jamie,” you murmur, and his hand flies to his jacket pocket. It must have fallen out when he slumped into a slumber. He’s sat up in a blink, watching the hand that had been so soothing, fall back at your side suddenly.

“I’m sorry. Shit. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“No, don’t,” you insist, still staring at the piece of paper. Instead of whirling on him for answers, you reach calmly into one of the boot cubbies beside your head and pull out a piece of paper from one of the boots. You chuck it at him without looking.

He unfolds it with careful, if shaky, hands.

Tell him, you silly shit.

It takes him an absurdly long time to understand what the hell this second piece of paper means. Later, when the two of you look back on this moment (and you do so often), you’ll wonder how he could have been so dense and he’ll spin you a line about how too good to be true it all felt. But in the moment, he has no lines and no words, until your hand lands heavy on his knee this time.

“Jamie,” you say softly, through a grin that is so different from your usual that he could pass out. It’s so beautiful and so strikingly lovesick that he thinks he might actually be sick, “What do you have to tell me?”

“What?”

He feels dumber than he’s ever felt. But your hand is still on his knee and now you’re shuffling closer to him on the bench.

“What do you have to tell me?” you repeat, then you poke his chest playfully as you add, “You prick.”

He still looks confused, so you clearly decide the best way to catch him up is to kiss him.

You pull away after a moment, a moment of pure heaven, because clearly you don't want to kiss him fully until he's all clued in.

"Come on, pretty boy," you say, teasing, "Figure it out. I was going to buy you a passionfruit J2O. It's the sign of all signs."

He should be laughing at your joke, but all he really wants to do is kiss you again. And again.

Maybe again.

"Oh pretty girl," he says, and he feels the rumble of his low tone in his chest. He places a hand on your face, fingers itching at your hairline, "I'll tell you anything ya wanna hear, I swear. Anythin'."

He hears your breath hitch, but he feels it too, where the meat of his palm is covering your neck.

"Anything?" you answer back, "I could have a lot of fun with this."

You scrunch up your brow like you're thinking and he's so stupidly in love with you that he just tells you. Too-soon be damned.

"Smooth talker," you laugh, giddy, and you kiss him again. And it's so good that he doesn't even remember you didn't say it back until hours later.

(at which point, you say it back so many times and in so many ways, Jamie is certain that he's the luckiest man in the world. he might not hit Roy with his car after all)

[appleblueberry-pie]

Yandere Suguru Headcanons

Suguru was attached to you. I hate feeling like i have to describe in large amounts of text to prove the point, but i can't seem to push that narrative at this moment. There is no way to beat around the bush and explain. He is just extremely attached.

He talks to Satoru about you way too much. Satoru the big fat motor mouth wants to close his ears when Suguru opens his mouth because he knows that the only words that his lips will fix to say are praises about you as if you were an angel from the heavens.

And that's all you were to Suguru. You were strong, you had a personality that suffocated him when you got close and lingered when you left. You never seemed to let him prove himself to you. As if you wanted to prove that you didn't need to be his friend to satiate your desires. He felt like an option to you. And that's probably what he was.

He crushed on you when he was happy. He tried to crawl to you when he was lost and his mind was tearing him apart. And he worshipped you when he changed his ways.

Suguru seemed to only see you, you were his only beacon of hope when he was at his lowest. His body felt sick every day from the constant feeling of needing to change something, but you always stayed present in his heart. He went to you for an escape so much, he didn't even care how you felt about him, he just wanted you.

The only thing he remembers when he was depressed were the moments that you came by to try and take care of him.

When you brought him food, when you ran your fingers through his oily hair once and offered to brush it. When you lightly pressed your thumb under his eyes to feel the eye bags that currently weighed his face down. He never looked bad, in your opinion. But every single time he was around you, it seemed as if he.....was too attached to you in some way. Not even in the way he's attached to Satoru.

One night, a night that shouldn't have been shared with him, you two had a sleep over. He offered for you to spend the night at his place. He said he cleaned it up as much as he could, and he did the same with himself. You had a few drinks and already attempted to drown your sorrows from the traumatic work you put yourself through every week. You assumed this would be a great moment for you to let go with a friend of yours and agreed.

You didn't think you'd end up with his tongue in your mouth. With him whimpering constant pleas to you with glossy eyes while grinding his hot bulge into your palm. The constant friction from his sweats made your hand heat up and you continued to stare down at his desperate face.

You two were on his bed, his blinds closed and the video playing on his laptop forgotten on the ground. You began kissing him again and he passionately pushes back into your kiss. Messy and uncoordinated, maybe you shouldn't have drank anything before this. Your lips trail down his neck and he throws his head back.

Your hand slips past his waistband and you feel for his hard leaking cock. He lets out a higher-pitched moan and you lower his sweats to jerk him off slowly. Suguru thrusts in your hands, unable to speak any words besides please and your name.

He never thought he'd be able to experience this moment. When the woman he loves is in his bed and giving him pleasure he never felt before. He used to try so desperately to push down his obsession for you, but it felt like all of his emotions were on one hundred when you first told him you wanted to take things further.

He felt so light when you were this close. His mind felt so free. He needed to be yours and for you to be his. He wanted you for as long as you lived and never wanted to let you go. His savior.

He gasps for air and moans shamelessly as spurts of his cum hits his t-shirt. A tear of shame and happiness rolls down one of his cheeks and he tries to savor every moment of this.

He hears your smooth voice begin to praise him and he leans in closer to you, leaning his head on your shoulder.

It took you a few seconds to realize what you had done and blinked, realizing his spend was on your hands and you just gave one of your extremely depressed classmates a hand job. You look down at his blissful face and immediately regret the actions you had done.

Suguru was soaking in every second he could breathe in your scent and feel your heat radiate onto his skin. He felt so happy. So if you two shared such an intimate and loving moment with each other, why did he feel you pulling away from him? He opened his eyes and sees you staring down at him with a look he's always hated growing up. Guilt.

".......I'm sorry." You shake your head and sit up, making him sit up. No, this wasn't what he wanted. He knew what those words meant. He felt fear overtake him and searched your eyes for the answer for why you suddenly decided to distance yourself. "What?" An awkward smile wobbled onto your lips. "I shouldn't have done that to you." You feel as if your confessing one of your sins out loud, as if you committed a crime on someone you loved dearly. You never wanted to take out your stress on a friend who clearly deserved more than a quick fuck. Never wanted him to think you wanted to be with him.

"....I don't understand. You didn't want to...? But I thought you wanted me like how I wanted you?" He saw your face drop and you averted your gaze before standing up. "I should go."

You turned your back to him and that was the last he saw of you in the next 10 years.

You avoided him like the plague. It pained his young heart dearly that the love of his life, his friend, and soon to be lover grew so distant with him. It didn't help for the rest of his transformation when he changed his ways entirely. But unfortunately for you, his heartbreak bloomed into something more painful, yet naturally beautiful in his heart. There wasn't a single day he didn't think of you. He knew he had to become better. Where he stood in the jujutsu world in that moment was nothing but a sleaze and a hopeless little seed. He sprouted for his world to see, pollen covering his petals as he began his plan of making a world of only sorcerers.

He knew that this would make you proud. He wanted to be stronger than you to protect you, to be your savior and lover. Maybe when he proves himself to you, you will run into his arms like he had done before. You were his drive that contracted his heart to pump more blood through his body. You straightened his spine and fed his brain the food it needed to stay stimulated. You were the protein in his muscles and sounds that were produced in his throat to help him speak. You were everything that made him. You made him.

It felt so true in his heart and mind, he knew he had to see you one way or another. And he loved seeking, especially if you were the one he'd find.

[lost-and-ephemeral]

lnds x reader where the boys and reader are in an argument like bringing their insecurities up and says something extremely hurtful that made mc cry and distant themselves and the boys regret it so much? 💓

HCs: Hurtful Words (ft. main trio)

Pairing: Xavier x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader, (seperate)

Tags: angst, hurt/comfort (in the end), maybe guys acting too OOC

A/N: I didn't want to make boys too OOC, so maybe it isn't exactly what you wanted, but I tried to follow your request ♡

-`♡´- MASTERLIST -`♡´- 

Xavier

On one of your last missions, you were too reckless and almost end up dying because of it.

Xavier almost lost you again, and the thought just drove him crazy.

He was worried and pretty angry since it wasn't the first time you were playing with fire.

When he showed up on the doorstep of your hospital room, Xavier was very distressed. Even your reassuring smile made no impression on him.

He still remembered how you died in his arms in the past.

So he snapped.

Not because he really wanted to offend you. No. But because his anxiety had turned into a furious stream of thoughts.

He was harshly talking about how reckless you are. About how you're not all-powerful or immortal, yet you never think about the consequences. About how stupid you're being, putting yourself in danger by jumping into a group of enemies.

Xavier, normally mild and calm, was acting so different now.

And you, being injured and bedridden, hardly wanted to see this exact reaction from him.

His words made you feel like a burden.

And when there was no trace of anger left, he suddenly fell silent, looking at the way your eyes were slowly filling up with tears.

Oh, no. He didn't mean it.

He really didn't mean it.

"Leave my room," you choked out, feeling deeply hurt by his words.

Even if he wanted to stay, it wasn't the best idea.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to hurt you."

But you were wounded too deeply by his harsh words, so you immediately distanced yourself from him, chasing him away.

Stupid? Reckless? Did he really see you like that?

Of course not...

Every minute of his existence Xavier was regretting the fact the snapped at you like this. He was supposed to support you after a serious injury, not make you hurt even more.

And the distance between the two of you made it worse.

Happy ending bonus:

This poor guy only lasted a day before he came back to see you in the hospital with a bouquet of flowers.

It was physically hard to stay away from you for so long, especially since Xavier has already spend years searching for you. And ruining everything by this stupid argument wasn't something he wished for.

He was apologizing for everything he said until you softened and let him stay.

Because you, too, were missing his presence.

"I'll never let anger get control over me again. I swear. Please, just... Get better soon."

Rafayel

Every now and then you and Rafayel would get into a playful argument, but now it was serious.

You just totally forgot about meeting with him at his studio and went to the mall with Tara.

Your busy schedule had jumbled up all the plans and days of the week in your head. And you ended up remembering your promise only a few hours later.

The fact that your phone was muted and you had hundreds of missed messages from Rafayel only made you feel more guilty.

So you tried to get to his studio as soon as possible while calling him. But he didn't answer.

Once you got there, you ran into a really pissed off Rafayel.

Yes, he was pouting at you from time to time.

But now the artist was more than angry.

You knew he was very sensitive when you suddenly disappeared without warning, so you immediately tried to make it up to him.

But it didn't really work.

"How could you forget about me?! You promised!"

Unexpectedly, Rafayel let himself snap at you.

He was so frustrated about the fact you forgot about him that he had no control over what he said.

He talked and talked. About not being able to trust you with your promises. About how he was tired of worrying about you when you suddenly disappear without a word. About how he was tired of waiting for you, thinking you decided to leave him, making him feel like a fish out of water.

And hearing about you being such an unreliable and bad person was truly painful.

His anger eventually led to you storming out of his studio in tears, not wanting to hear any more accusations against you.

You didn't cheat on him, didn't do anything wrong. That's why this sudden aggression from him made you so upset.

And only while standing alone in his studio Rafayel realized that he had made things worse. He didn't want you to leave him, yet this is exactly what happened.

He tried calling you, texting you. But all he got was silence.

Bonus happy ending:

After a few days the silence between you two became unbearable. He felt like he was in agony.

When you heard the doorbell ring in the evening, you didn't expect to see Rafayel looking like a wet, sad puppy. It seemed that he had been caught in the rain and had come to see you anyway.

He shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other before finally lifting his gaze to look at you.

"I'm sorry. I acted like a total jerk. Please, I can't exist in isolation anymore, not being able to hear your voice or see you. You can even scold me till the end of time if you want, just don't leave me."

You missed him as much as he missed you. So you let him in.

Zayne

Sometimes Zayne was incredibly tired at work. Not just physically, but mentally.

At this time, he wanted more than anything to just rest and forget about all important matters. If such a thing was even allowed for a surgeon as busy as he was.

Maybe he'd be able to do it even more often if he didn't have to occasionally wait for you to show up for an appointment.

Especially since periodically you completely forgot about them. And in the worst cases, you were not only late, but didn't show up at all.

Usually, he would just lightly scold you, which didn't cause any problems. After all, it was Zayne's way to show that he cared about you.

But today was a particularly hard day at work.

So when you walked into his medical office, Zayne was sitting at his desk, massaging the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

And your excessive cheerfulness at that moment didn't make the situation any better. You sat down across from him with a smile. But he only shook his head, tired and disappointed.

"You forgot about your appointment again and decided to reschedule it for tonight?"

You smiled awkwardly, but didn't have time to say anything.

Oh, how annoyed he was, scolding you for how negligent you were about your health, ignoring all of his recommendations. He said that sometimes he felt like you are his personal headache. Except he couldn't get rid of you.

And he was too tired to notice how quickly the smile disappeared from your face, giving way to tears.

Before he could say anything, you threw the stack of papers with your test results on his desk, almost running out of his office.

The situation had gone far beyond what was acceptable, but Zayne realized it too late.

He tried to call you and even drove to your place right after his shift ended, but he was left standing in front of the closed door.

Maybe it would've been better to just let you cool off.

But with your silence, a devastating feeling settled in Zayne's heart. He was so, so sorry.

Bonus happy ending:

After a couple days of agonizing silence, he wanted nothing more than to see you. He managed to catch you before you went into your apartment.

You avoided his gaze, but you didn't leave, giving him time.

"I'm sorry. You're not a headache. I was having an awfully rough day at the time, so I snapped. It won't happen again."

Now you could clearly see the remorse in his eyes. You missed him so much and just couldn't push him away again.

After all, everyone can have an argument. The main thing is to be able to deal with the situation correctly.

[shadowtriovibes]

the train ain't even left the station

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Rating: G

Word Count: 2K

Summary: request: "If you're up for it I'd love to see a small lil fic of Sebastian sending his child off to Hogwarts for the very first time! Like maybe Sebastian is telling them about his adventures with Ominis and MC to make the child less nervous or just letting them know how exciting things will be for them :)"

in the same 'verse as "it's a sign of the times" [AO3]

Sebastian sets her down and rests a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Not too good, alright? It’s worth breaking a few rules every now and then to make a friend, or do what’s right.” “Like how you met Uncle Ominis and he showed you the Undercroft?” she says eagerly. A few feet away, you look up sharply from where you’re hugging Simon goodbye. “Did she just say ‘Undercroft?’” “No,” Sebastian and Anne-Marie say in unison.

September 1, 1910

Suspended overhead in the bustling terminal of King’s Cross Station is a massive clock. Every morning, hundreds of thousands of Londoners – both Muggles and wizards alike, though more often the former – pass underneath the clock as they hurry to catch their trains. Many will casually glance up to ensure they’re still on time as they make their way to work, school, or even the lucky few off on holiday.

As it happens, the first day of September brings countless students to the station on their way to boarding schools all over the U.K., meaning the station stays especially crowded well into the late morning. Worried mums and impatient dads all turn their eyes toward that clock, hoping their sprogs won’t be left on the platform on their very first day of school.

Just as the minute hand slides into place at the very bottom of the clock, a handsome young family emerges from a tiny waiting room positioned at the far end of the terminal.

Hundreds of Muggle men in their funny, black suits and odd little bowler hats have already walked right past the waiting room without sparing it a second glance. In fact, had any of them paused to do so, they would have read a small sign affixed to the door that simply read, “Out of Order.”

But inside that waiting room is a grand fireplace. Not just any fireplace, mind you – one that roared brilliantly twenty-four hours a day, never needs stoking, and, perhaps most importantly, spews out bright green flames.

Sebastian Sallow first exits the waiting room with a precarious cart loaded up with trunks, birdcages, and even some broomsticks of all things. If the Muggles passing by thought anything of the man’s rather odd collection of travel items, no one said a word.

He glances up at the clock and grins.

“Ten thirty,” he says confidently over his shoulder. “See? I told you we wouldn’t be late.”

Beside him is his young wife. Their smallest child, a boy just a few months shy of his fifth birthday, is dozing in her arms. Behind them are their oldest children, a pair of twins, chatting excitedly as they follow their parents toward the barricade between platforms nine and ten.

“Doesn’t it seem a bit redundant to Floo all the way down to London just to put the children on a train back to Scotland?” Sebastian mumbles as your family weaves its way through the flowing crowds.

“Perhaps, but all the children love riding the train,” you remind him fondly. “It’s a Hogwarts tradition, especially for the little ones.”

Having never had the chance to take the Hogwarts Express yourself, you find yourself mildly envious of your eldest children, both of whom will soon be taking their very first journey on the school’s scarlet red steamer train.

“Besides,” you add teasingly. “If I recall, you and Anne met Ominis on your first train ride to Hogwarts, correct?”

“Fine, I suppose you’ve got me there,” Sebastian relents with a soft smile. “I rather think this whole journey will have been worth it if the twins happen to make lifelong friends who save their lives several times over.”

“Do we have to?” your son Simon pipes up, sounding wary. “Because I packed a book I wanted to read.”

Sebastian raises an eyebrow at you and gives you a look that reads, He is your son through and through.

“Trying to prove you’re a Ravenclaw already, are you?” Sebastian teases him. “Just like your mum, you are.”

“I’m going to be a Slytherin like you, Daddy!” your daughter Anne-Marie chimes in proudly. “Even Auntie Anne said so!”

You and Sebastian exchange a fond, albeit exasperated look. Ever since Anne (and eventually Sebastian) had accepted the life-limiting curse placed upon her by Rookwood, she’d instead focused on honing types of magic that don’t drain her of her energy or cause her any more pain. She’d found comfort in Divination and has grown into a very powerful Seer, though she often uses her gift to rile up your children with premonitions of being spoiled rotten on their birthday or soundly beating the other village children in their broomstick races.

However, predicting that your mischievous little girl will end up in Slytherin is a fairly safe bet, you imagine.

“I won’t be the least bit surprised if that’s true,” Sebastian says warmly. “But just know your mother and I will love you all the same no matter which house you end up in.”

“Even Hufflepuff?” Simon asks nervously. “Ernest from the village says Hufflepuffs are boring.”

“Don’t forget your Auntie Poppy is a Hufflepuff,” you tease him. “She’s anything but boring!”

That seems to cheer Simon up a bit, but your sweet, slightly shy boy falls back beside you as you get closer to the platform barricade.

“Alright, my love?” you ask him softly.

He reaches for your free hand and squirms up tightly against your side. “It’s really big…”

You size up the high brick archway before you. To the naked eye, it appears as solid as rock, and despite Sebastian’s reassurances that it’s perfectly safe to run straight at it, you imagine you’d be intimidated as well if you were only eleven years old.

“Don’t worry, darling,” you reassure him. “Your father and I will come with you to the platform, you won’t have to go through alone.”

He nods wordlessly and you squeeze his hand. Ever her father’s girl, Anne-Marie takes Sebastian’s arm and the two of them push the wobbly luggage cart straight at the archway, and in the blink of an eye, they’ve vanished.

“See?” you murmur to Simon. “Not so scary, is it?”

With your youngest still propped against your hip, you and Simon walk toward the barricade at a slower pace. You glance around to make sure no Muggles are watching as you slip through the magical brick facade, and then in the blink of an eye you’re on a pack platform surrounded by wizarding families and children in bright, colorful robes.

“Over here!” Sebastian calls out, and you see that he’s pulled the cart right up to the train.

“Help each other with your trunks, just like that,” Sebastian says as Simon and Anne-Marie first carry the trunk marked with an “S.S.” aboard the carriage and then return for the other marked with an “A.M.S.”

Then they carry in their owls – both young tawny birds raised from hatchlings, a gift from their Aunt Poppy. Finally, they return for their brooms, which Sebastian knows for a fact they ought not to have as first years, but he hopes he can talk Headmaster Weasley into looking the other way once they arrive with the intent of trying out for their house Quidditch teams.

(Raising your children in a wizarding village had been quite an eye-opening experience for you. Your twins have been on broomsticks since they could walk, and over the years their godfather Ominis has insisted on making sure they always have the latest model – one for each, so they won’t squabble over sharing.)

You pull Anne-Marie in for a tight hug once the children finish unloading their cart.

“You’ve got everything you need?” you ask her, pretending your voice hasn’t gone thick with tears. “I’ve packed you both some sweets for the ride, remember to share with your new friends, and write to us as soon as you get back to your dormitories please–”

“Yes, Mum,” she says, somewhat impatiently. “We promise we will.”

Anne-Marie kisses her littlest brother goodbye on his chubby cheek, fondly brushing back some of those messy brown curls your husband had given him.

“Why don’t you let your father give you a hug goodbye, sweetheart?” you gently prompt her.

You expect you’re the only one who’s noticed that Sebastian’s eyes have gotten a bit wet as he’d watched his children load up their belongings on the train. Even though he’d likely try to deny it if you prodded him, he sincerely looks like he could use a hug.

As soon as Anne-Marie approaches him with her arms out, Sebastian scoops her up against his chest like he’d often done when she was much smaller – only now her legs nearly touch the floor, and soon he’ll only be able to sway her like this with her feet firmly planted on the ground.

“Have a great term, sweetheart,” he tells her softly. “I can’t wait to hear all about it – even the parts that’ll exasperate your mother.”

“I promise I’ll be good,” she says ruefully.

Sebastian sets her down and rests a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Not too good, alright? It’s worth breaking a few rules every now and then to make a friend, or do what’s right.”

“Like how you met Uncle Ominis and he showed you the Undercroft?” she says eagerly.

A few feet away, you look up sharply from where you’re hugging Simon goodbye. “Did she just say ‘Undercroft?’”

“No,” Sebastian and Anne-Marie say in unison.

You narrow your eyes suspiciously and decide to leave it be for now, but as soon as you turn away, Sebastian leans down and whispers, “Write to Uncle Ominis and ask him where to find it. It’s a Sallow’s rite of passage.”

“I will,” she says excitedly. “And I’ll bring Simon.”

“Good girl,” he says proudly.

Anne-Marie manages to free Simon from your weepy grasp so that Sebastian can also pull him in for one last hug, reassuring his son he’ll be proud of him no matter which house he eventually calls home. Then the two link arms as they make their way toward the train, climbing up the stairs behind a gaggle of redheaded children (whose surname you could likely guess on the first try).

They settle into a compartment halfway down the carriage. Anne-Marie eagerly presses her face against the glass and makes a silly face at Sebastian, which he delightedly returns. Simon waves goodbye as well and holds up the book he’d packed, showing it off as if to say, “See Mum? We’ll be just fine.”

With your groggy son in your arms and Sebastian’s arm around your shoulders, you watch as the train slowly starts to rumble down the tracks and into the brilliant September sunshine. It’s carrying your children ever closer to your home, and yet further away from you than they’ve ever been.

You hide a few tears against the lapel of Sebastian’s robes; he kindly wipes away the rest with a handkerchief and kisses the redness on your cheeks and nose until you’re smiling once more.

“They’re going to have an incredible year,” he whispers to you. “It’s Hogwarts.”

You simply nod, not trusting yourself to answer without a stray sob slipping out.

Dozens of parents begin to Apparate away from the tracks as soon as the train rounds the corner, but with your youngest, you’ll need to make your way back to the station’s Floo flames to get home safely. This time pushing an empty cart, the three of you slip back through the brick barricade.

“It sure will feel quiet when we get home,” Sebastian says a little sadly.

“We’ve still got the littlest one,” you say softly, cradling your sleeping boy’s cheek as he clings to you through his nap. “He’ll keep us on our toes enough as he gets older.”

“I suppose,” Sebastian sighs, still sounding morose even as he reaches over and gently strokes the back of his fingers down your singleton’s back.

Then he perks up and raises an eyebrow at you. “Or perhaps we could try for a fourth?”

You shoot him a withering glare. “Not on your life, Sebastian Sallow. We’ve just sent the twins off to school, I think that means we should actually get to enjoy some peace and quiet for once.”

(Though when your twins come home for the winter holidays with countless tales of their adventures with new friends and their pockets stuffed full of Zonko’s products, Sebastian gets to be the one to tell them they’ll have a new baby sister the following summer.)

[multifandomgirl08]

Stones To Throw At My Creator [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad! Max Verstappen x Wife!Reader (Established Relationship)

Summary: He wasn't his father. He would never raise Nico like that.

Warning(s): Angst, Mention of past trauma caused by a parent, Jos Verstappen (just him, in the second half), Max and Jos have a verbal confrontation

A/N: Title from the song Bother by Stone Sour. This song was on one of my playlists and I couldn't help but think of Max while listening to it. I don't normally tackle heavy issues, but I couldn't get the idea of Max wanting to comment about his father's parenting now that he is going to be a parent (again). Totally me rambling but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

This part and the following part of Mini Verstappen are going to be heavy in terms of the subject. Luckily after the next part, it'll be the second to last time we hear about Jos in this series.

Words: 2k

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

It was one of the odd weekends that Max had off. Nico had a karting race that weekend, and Max made sure that he had been there given how many he had already missed.

“I only got fourth.” Nico blubbered, with his head slumped against his chest.

“You can’t win them all Nico.” Max insisted.

“But you win almost all of your races.” The little boy remarked.

While Max enjoyed winning when he was racing, he didn’t want Nico to feel like he had to strive to be amazing behind the wheel at such a young age. Nico was still learning and wasn’t going to be competing until he was older. He shouldn’t be thinking about winning races all the time. He was just a child.

“Yes I do, but there was a time when I didn’t. Winning isn’t everything. You need to focus on being a good driver first before winning anything. Especially when you have a team of people who are working alongside you.” He explained.

Nico knew how important the team was when Max was on the track, it was hundreds of people working to improve the car. It was never just Max at the end of the day. Max didn’t want to push Nico like his father had pushed him. There were times when Max felt he couldn’t handle the pressure his father was putting on him and he didn’t want Nico to ever feel like that.

Over the last year that Nico had been karting, Max had made his peace with it. This was what Nico wanted. So Max would support him even if he didn’t want his son to pursue being in motorsports.

After having spent so many years away from his father’s influence, with only his son and a nanny to take care of him for the first few years. It made Max think about the way that he was raised, how his father had conditioned him to have a very particular mentality when he was on the track and that was great when he was driving for Red Bull, but it wasn’t how he wanted to raise his son. He didn’t want his child to feel like he had to put aside the other things that he cared about for karting.

Nico would one day be his own person, he didn’t have to have the same aspirations that his father had for him growing up. He wanted Nico to enjoy karting while he was still young, he didn’t want to make it about winning for him. When he was older and decided that it was something that he wanted, then maybe… maybe he could be there to encourage Nico to pursue racing. He didn’t want to force it on him.

“But I like winning. It’s fun.” Nico muttered mostly to himself.

Max let out a deep breath.

He wanted to push Nico to do great when he was driving but he never wanted to take it to the extremes of his father.

He helped Nico pack up all of his things before going and meeting Y/N at the car.

“How about,” He offered up as they walked to the car. “We can work on you winning but when it’s not fun anymore I want you to tell me.”

He knew it wasn’t the perfect thing to offer up but it was better than what he had gone through growing up. He never wanted his son to resent him the way he did his father.

“Okay.” Nico nodded up at him. “Does that mean that we can fix the su…spen…sion? I think there is something wrong with it.”

Max couldn’t help but lightly smile.

“After dinner, we can go into the garage and take a look.” Max normally kept Nico out of the garage when he was working on Nico’s kart. He didn’t want his little fingers anywhere near it just in case something went wrong.

Max saw Y/N before she saw him. She was loading her bag into the back seat of the car while holding her growing belly. Baby Verstappen #2 was growing by the day.

When Y/N told him that she was pregnant he had been scared, he throught that he would have more time racing before they had kids together. Max hadn’t been around when Nico’s birth mother was pregnant with him, and he wanted to be able to experience all of it this time around. 

His wife had been at ease with the idea, telling him that there was nothing stopping them from giving Nico a sibling, he was already an amazing dad and adding another one to the family would only further prove that. He had believed her, and now that Y/N was pregnant he couldn’t keep his hands off her.

Max moved all of Nico’s karting things into the trunk of the car and closed it once everything was put away. He made his way to the front of the car, reaching for his wife’s waist.

"Hi, mijn leeuwin." He muttered.

"Hello." She replied before he pulled her in and kissed her letting his hand rest on the growing bump.

“Eww.” He heard from Nico.

Max pulled away long enough to laugh at his reaction. Although their son was used to all of the affection that he showed Y/N it was only recently that Nico started to find it gross.

Y/N carefully reached down and kissed Nico on the cheek.

“No, Mama,” Nico said after he squirmed away wiping off her kiss with the sleeve of his jacket. Nico was still as attached to Y/N as ever but there were little things that showed Max how quickly Nico was growing up.

They had just finished dinner, Max was clearing the table insisting that Y/N relax on the couch with Nico. He didn’t want her walking around more than usual.

There was a knock on the front door, they weren't expecting visitors.

“I’ll get it,” Max said abandoning the table for the door. It was a short walk, him then turning the lock of the door, and a small pull to see his father. Max froze where he stood. What was he doing here?

“Who’s at the door, baby.” He heard.

“No one, just someone who’s at the wrong house.” He said looking directly at his father. Max was quick to reach for his keys. He wasn’t going to invite his father inside. He didn’t want him here.

“Be right back.” Max hollered into the living room.

He pushed his father away from the front door before closing it behind him.

“What are you doing here?” He yelled in Dutch.

“Can’t I visit my family?” Jos had asked.

Max said nothing back to that. Jos knew that they had stopped being his family a long time ago.

“I don’t want you anywhere near my son.” Jos was trying to be civil, but Max didn’t want to be civil. He just wanted him gone from his life like he had been for the last 5 years.

“I’m his grandfather.”

“No, you’re the man that made me realize how I don’t want to raise my son.” He knew those words would cut deep, that was the intention. And he already has a grandfather in Christian, why would he need you? He wanted to add but didn’t.

Jos Verstappen wasn’t his father, they may share blood and a name but nothing else. He wanted nothing to do with him.

When Max was younger he never had to courage to stand up to his father, but after Nico came into his life he realized that he now needed to put Nico before him. After he started dating Y/N, got married, and found out that she was pregnant it made him aware that one day he would see his father and would need to stand up to him and tell him how he felt after all those years.

“What about my other grandchild?”

Max closed his eyes at those words. He never wanted him to know that Y/N was pregnant.

“You didn’t think I would find out?” Jos half questioned.

“I knew that you would eventually find out. I just never expected you to show up at my home with my family here.”

“I’m your family.”

“How can you claim to be my family when you tried to keep my son from me?” Jos never wanted him to know that he had a son. It wasn’t in his plans to make him a champion. Even if Nico wasn’t in his life, he knew he would eventually achieve that goal despite Jos always telling him that he would amount to nothing.

Becoming world Champion meant so much more given that he got to share those dreams with Nico.

“I did it for you, for your career.”

His career? That was his reason. Almost getting frostbite on his fingers as a child, being punched in the face after a race, being left at a gas station in the middle of knowhere. Was that for his career? He could think of more incidents that Jos would claim were “for his career”.

Jos Verstappen’s coaching made him a great driver, but it would have made him a shitty parent in addition to being a horrible husband.

He never wanted to put Y/N through what his mother had to deal with.

“You can claim that it was for my career. But it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want you near my family.” Max was tempted to bring up getting a restraining order. If he did, he knew right away that Jos would call him weak, spineless, even pathetic. Jos loved to chuck insults at just about anyone, including the man that he called son.

“Max?” He heard coming from the front door. He turned around to see Y/N standing there looking concerned.

“What’s going on?” You asked.

“Nothing, liefde.” He quickly switched back to English. He didn’t want to alarm Y/N that anything was wrong even with the concern that was shown on her face. “Everything is fine.”

He was trying to be reassuring to her. Hoping that she could tell that he had everything handled and wanted her to go back inside so Nico wouldn’t be left alone in the house.

He could see that Y/N was looking past him to see who was standing there. Y/N never pressured him to talk about his father, even if she was curious about what had led them here.

“Please, go back inside.” He pleaded. He didn’t want her around Jos.

He saw her stand up straighter before making her way back into the house.

He turned back to Jos and saw he met his eyes he could see something in him shift.

“You’ve got a good wife, strong, understanding,” Jos said, and as the words left his mouth he wasn’t sure if he wanted to smile at having Jos be proud of something he chose that wasn’t racing or punch him for talking about Y/N. “Looks like my son has gotten at least one thing right.”

“I’m not your son.” He said. He finally got his father's approval, and now he was quick to realize that he didn’t want it. “Now, please leave. I won’t ask you again.”

Jos didn’t say anything back. He didn’t walk away either at first, but as they stood there Max rooted his feet into the concrete of the driveway. Jos nodded before walking away.

It was strange watching his father walk away. He finally saw that Max had grown up and was his own person. As his father disappeared into the distance, all he could feel was a weight slowly lifting off his shoulders. Almost like it was easier to breathe.

He let himself take some time before he made his way inside the house. As he walked back to the house, it was the first time he felt like he didn’t have to watch over his shoulder.

He opened the door to see Y/N standing there with Nico by her side. He opened his arms for them, wanting them close. He breathed in the scent of her hair, feeling the press of Nico into his other side. He was so grateful for the two of you.

taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover, @bborra

[pookietv]

something sooner | arthurtv

you asked for arthurtv smut and here i am to deliver!!! i am lowkey quite proud of this one soooo :3

cw: smut

arthur had always viewed you as the whirlwind of energy in his life. sure, he wasn't a complete homebody, but when he compared himself to you, he felt like one. you were always somewhere, museums, restaurants, clubbing: if something was on, you were there.

but despite that, you and arthur had remained friends over the years - late night catchups and your constant loop of new stories from strange situations you always seemed to wind up in made his life seem more exciting.

so when he asked to meet up with you, there was no surprise on his end when he got a text back reading

'i'm out right now, but i'd love to see you later if you wanna come by mine for a few drinks or something, maybe around teatime?'

so he had spent the day waiting patiently lumbering around his house. and he didn't mind waiting around for you, he really didn't. you were like some sort of mini celebrity in his eyes, in the way he felt lucky to even be near you, that you constantly made time for him in a way he felt you did for so few others.

he had spent some time trying to wrestle with the fact that these feelings were probably more than friendship, and now had come to accept it. friends didn't feel like this about their friends, he realised, and had accepted the fact that what he felt towards you was far past even a small crush, and could possibly even class as infatuation.

but that was an issue he felt that he could bury down and ignore, thinking it would inevitably ruin your friendship, and he'd rather have some of you then none, he'd tell himself.

as soon as he felt it was socially acceptable to call it 'teatime', he dragged himself over to your apartment as quickly as he could, arriving at your door and giving it three brief knocks, to which he heard your soft, sing-song voice 'come in!', and he did just that.

taking off his jacket and slipping off his shoes as he always did, you wandered towards him from your kitchen, a sweet smile plastered on your face as you spotted him, and embraced him in a hug.

you noticed how good he looked, in his plain black shorts and a white shirt, 'whales of the world', an outfit he must have worn a hundred times in front of you, but yet he never failed to make it look so good.

as soon as his nose buried in your hair for a moment, he recognised that you smelled a little different than you normally did, an overwhelming saccharine smell.

"smells like you've been having a feast," he grinned, hanging up his coat as he looked down at you.

you rolled your eyes a little at his joke, "hm, i've been to the cinema, maybe it's that?"

"you were at the cinema? should have said, i would have come with," he smiled nonchalantly, and your slight smile faulted awkwardly for a moment as you laughed a little.

"oh, i wasn't alone, was with someone," you responded, a slight shrug as you walked into the front room, his padding footsteps an indication he was following not far behind.

"well, i forgot you had other more important friends than me," he said jokingly, sitting himself down on the sofa next to her as you casually sat facing him, back against the armrest of the sofa and your feet resting gently against arthur's lower thigh.

"wasn't a friend, was more of a date type thing," you hummed out slightly, and as the words fell so simply off her tongue, arthur could feel his heart sink slightly.

processing the words felt like a slight knife twist in his gut, the slight twinkle of hoping against hope that you had maybe liked him back felt like a stamped out light. the relaxed way you had said date, like it was no big deal, had cut him slightly deeper than he had expected.

he felt like he had been so foolish, to think he could act like just your friend. his voice sounded slightly more timid, and restrained as he murmured out, "a date?"

you nodded, your eyes slightly avoiding his, and instead picking at your own fingernails. "yeah, it was nice. the movie was cool, actually, quite funny. i laughed so hard at one point i felt like if looks could kill, i would have frozen to death in the cinema seat." you laughed a slight bit.

he could feel the disappointment wash over him. he had always felt like he had a piece of you, in a way - even if that thought was just to pacify his feelings, he felt the way you always made sure he was involved, always checking up on one another, your trust in him, the way you always leaned on him, or were touching in some sort of way, he felt, was some level of intimacy.

thinking of you laughing with someone else was a bitter pill to swallow.

he forced out his voice, "that's great," he managed to say, "i'm glad you had fun,"

you smiled, but it didn't fully reach your eyes - arthur had been more reserved tonight, you had thought. "yeah, it was good. i might see him again, who knows,"

he felt like the burning feeling in his chest was an indication, or a force, that he had to say something.

"um, hey," he started, his voice quietened. you could see the slight red on his cheeks, a nervous tinge, "i think i need to tell you something."

you looked up at him, head tilted slightly, expectant.

"i... i think i might be in love with you." he blurted out, the words hanging heavy in the air for a moment.

your eyes widened in surprise, the blood rushing to your face and gracing your cheeks in the way he felt was so perfectly you, gracing your face like the most modern work of art in history.

"i.. i didn't know," you murmured out, voice shy. "i always thought you just saw me as a friend,"

seeing you shy was something he never thought he'd see - you, his most outgoing friend, the girl that somehow knew everyone, and got invited to everything.

"how could i not like you?" he continued, trying his best to keep his voice steadied, "i've always liked you. just didn't think you liked me,"

the red on your cheeks excited arthur, as you looked away embarrassed, "i did," you admitted softly, "just figured we were friends, so i, uh, pushed my feelings aside,"

arthur felt his heart pounding like a war drum, as the air in the room felt thicker.

he leaned closer to you, the distance between you almost non existant, as you could feel his breath against your skin, almost raising goosebumps.

"if i had known," he murmured out, "i would have done something sooner,"

your own breath hitched slightly, as your head cocked, almost inquisitive, "like what?" you murmured out.

his eyes darkened slightly as he looked down at you, thinking of all the times he had spent pining after you, the slight brushes of your skin against him making him feel hot, and he couldn't believe that all the time he had spent in near agony at the thought of you with someone else, it hadn't ever been something you noticed.

"like this," he murmured, almost feverishly closing the gap between you, the touch of his lips against yours like a crackle of electricity, "would have done this," he continued, before you could even respond, his lips moved slightly, to the line of your jaw, his finger tilting your head upwards slightly as you felt his stubble brush against you, the feeling leaving your mind spinning, "would have touched you, like i've been thinking of doing for so long,"

the need in his voice, longing thick with desire sent a wave of heat through your body, a slight moan leaving you, gentle fingers weaving up to tangle in his hair, tugging slightly.

his other hand quickly moved to lay against your waist, thumb brushing agonisingly slow against your lower stomach, before he pulled back slightly, breaths still heavy, eyes slightly darkened with lust.

"fuck, i... is this okay? i, don't want you to feel any pressure or anything, i just-" he mumbled out, before your hands were quick to reach against the hem of his top, tugging shyly.

"please don't stop, arthur," you said softly, voice almost a whine, but to him it was like a blessing, the sight of you tugging at his shirt and the slight pleading in his voice only stoked the fuel beginning to rage in him, and he eagerly nodded, grinning to himself slightly, his hands moving to his own shirt and pulling it over his head with ease.

"don't think i could stop, even if i wanted to," he panted out slightly, his fingers moving up to the fabric of your own shirt, peeling it from your head in an impatient speed, a slight groan leaving his lips as his eyes fell on your bare chest. "you're so pretty," he murmured against your skin, his teeth gently grazing against your perked nipple.

slight mewls escaped you, one of your hands gently grasping around his upper arm, the heat of his skin comforting as you squeezed slightly, "want you so bad, arthur," you said, almost shy, and you heard a slight chuckle from him.

"the last thing i expected from you was to be so shy," he said, looking at you through his eyelashes with a grin. "can't hear you, lovie," he teased playfully, thumbs tucking into the waistband of your pants, easing them down slowly.

"please, arthur, i want you so bad," you whined out, a little louder now, hips raising slightly as your trousers became discarded onto the floor, leaving you in a pair of lacy panties, still pressed against the armrest of your sofa, arthur pressed above you, head level with your lower stomach.

"i know, sweetheart, soon," he smirked slightly, the pad of his thumb running over the dampened material of your underwear, "just wanna take my time with you, been waiting for this for so long," he murmured, beginning to draw soft circles through the material.

"don't wanna take time, pleas-" you tried to mumble out, but you were met with almost a condesending 'shh' from arthur, as he pulled down your underwear, leaving you bare in front of him, arousal practically drooling from you.

"so wet already?" he murmured out, and before you had anymore time to pathetically plead with him, his forearms moved to clamp around your thighs, lips attaching to you, making an embarrassingly loud moan fall from your lips.

his tongue dragged up from your entrance to your clit, his mouth giving a slight bit of suction, tongue rolling across your sensitive bud as the breath felt sucked from your lungs, it was all you could do to pant out a soft, "oh... fuck," and feel his lips curl into a slight grin against you.

"y'taste so good," he practically groaned against you, almost feeling his pants tighten, it was all too much - the sweet little noises, your hips bucking up and the taste of you almost felt like overstimulation, but the best kind.

the longer he shoved his face into your soaked cunt, the more that it wasn't enough to eat you out until you were whining, he needed to be inside you.

so with a soft final lick against you, he lifted his head up with a grin.

you, on the other hand, denied of the connection, whimpered out almost desperately, breaths shortened and needy, left feeling almost dazed. "arthur..." you pleaded, but as he lifted himself up slightly, tugging down his own shorts and taking himself into his hand, already painfully hard, you could almost feel your mouth water.

you reached your hand out, grasping his length, thumb rubbing slightly over the tip, making him almost buck up into your hand, making you giggle slightly.

it wasn't long before he couldn't take anymore, and lined himself up with you, the tip nudging at your sensitive spot slightly before pressing against your entrance, using your arousal to lubricate himself, one of your hands reaching up to rest on his shoulder, the other tugging gently at his hair as a plea to hurry up.

with a smooth motion, he pushed himself forward, the stretching sensation making your head spin, the controlled movement as he pushed himself deeper, the base of his cock touching you as he bottomed out, pressing warm, slightly haphazard kisses against your shoulder, before gently biting at your collarbone, trying to muffle slightly in his own grunt of pleasure from the noises you were making, and the snug tightness of your walls gripping him. the stretch you felt subsided into a satisfying fullness, and whines escaped you needily.

"arthur, please," you pleaded out, eyes glassed and lidded, practically half shut.

without another moment to breathe, his hips pulled out of you, and thrusted forward, the unexpected force almost winded you as his hips began to move quickly, a fluid motion, jerking your body with each movement, as you allowed your forehead to rest against arthur's shoulder.

"f-fuck, you feel so good, so so good," he practically grunted under his breath, one hand holding himself up and the other tightly squeezing your hip, gently rocking it against his own, creating friction that could only make you mewl out whines louder. you were close to dumb, only noises escaping you being increasingly pathetic moans and the occasional expletive.

arthur taking control wasn't something you had expected, but fuck you weren't complaining, his hand that had been squeezing your plush skin instead working it's way towards your clit, your own thighs opening even wider, eagerly, head thrown back as the circles he rubbed against your sensitive spot matched the rougher thrusts.

his eyes were practically glued to your face, watching each little twist and contortion as your eyes screwed shut and your lips fell beautifully open, and he felt filled with pride, in an odd way.

"taking me so well, fuck," he groaned out, and the way you gripped at his shoulder tighter in response made him chuckle. you liked when he praised you.

each breath was practically a gulp down for air as you felt your orgasm approaching, the familiar tightness clutching at your stomach, your hips rocking slightly in a desperate effort to reach it sooner, the repeated feeling of his cock hitting your cervix enough to leave you tongue-tied and stupid, arthur's concentration almost admirable, in a complete rut as each thrust felt only growing rougher by the second.

"i know you're close, baby," came from under his breath as he straightened himself up slightly, stopping supporting himself and instead using the other hand to grasp at your thigh, allowing him to thrust into you quicker, the increased pace making him look almost drunk, the new harshness practically pushing you over the edge, each touch at the bundle of nerves weakening you.

"fuck, arthur, 'm gonna..." you babbled out, the intense sensation washing over you, thighs shaking around his hips, as frenzied whines were torn from your throat, your lower body going limp as the familiar knot snapped, euphoria dizzying any thoughts in your head, the orgasm only being rode out as he continued to jerk into you.

"i'm so close, baby, god, you look so pretty when you come, i-" he moaned out as you felt him release, the look on his face showing pure light-headed intoxication, cum painting your insides as the room went quiet for a moment, besides the loud pants from both of you as he gently pulled himself out of you.

"'m sorry, was i too rough?" he spoke out between catching breaths, his fingers quickly carding through your hair in an apologetic manner.

"no, no. was perfect." you murmured out, body completely taken over and exhausted as you lifted your head a little to look at him, eyes lidded and sleepy.

"you look tired," he grinned slightly, taking in the view: you, bare before him, completely ruined by him, and all for him to see. "i must have done a good job if i've worn you out."

"mhm. sorry, i get like this sometimes, always so sleepy after sex," you mumbled, made slightly shy again, cheeks still flush from before.

"s'okay, it's cute." he said back, before standing himself up, pulling on just his boxers, "gonna go get you some clean clothes, something to wipe you up with and some water, okay lovie?" he said gently, and you nodded with a dumb, happy smile on your face.

"arthur?" you said softly, and he stopped at your doorway with a similarly dopey smile.

"uh huh?" he replied, and as you looked at him, hair all a mess and in just his boxers, caringly going to make sure you had everything you needed.

"does this mean i get to be your girlfriend?" you said shyly, and arthur could have sworn his heart melted right there.

[farfromstrange]

Is It Over Now? | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader ; (hinted) Frank Castle x Reader ; Elektra Natchios x Matt Murdock

Summary: Matt cheated on you, and you are trying to navigate through it.

Warnings: Angst, no happy ending, break-up, mention of cheating, song references (Taylor Swift), inspired by 'Is It Over Now?', (some) Matt "slander", (somewhat) suicidal thoughts, alcohol consumptions, hint at smut

Word Count: 1.7k

A/n: 1989 TV came out and I am losing my shit. Is It Over Now? Is my new favorite song and I just had a brain fart that made this. You can read this if you're a Swiftie and catch the references or just read it without listening to the song. It works either way.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

To be fair, there was a time when you thought it would never end. The thought of ever having a last kiss with him would have killed you back then. 

He told you that you were the love of his life. You believed him. He was yours, certainly. You can’t deny that.

You were happy, you laughed and cried together, and part of you figured that if you ever broke up, you would find a way to work through it somehow. 

Maybe in another universe, you are still together. Maybe in another universe, you two are still friends. Maybe in another universe, you never had to lose each other.

In this reality though—in this brutal, unforgivable reality—everything changed in a matter of a day. And there is nothing you can do about it now.

Your flower was withering in secret, and you didn’t realize what it was doing to you. Every time you woke up alone, every canceled date, every time he called you and told you he wouldn’t make it home tonight, it was sure to build up to this. 

But this, whatever the hell this is, it hurts beyond compare. 

He said you were a rose, but now that you look in the mirror, you only see a rotten mess.

The past few months have done this to you. He has done this to you. The paper airplanes crashed and burned. There is nothing left but pure bitterness and this hatred you have toward yourself and him; you just want to land your fist in his face, and then maybe your own because how could he hurt you like that after making you love him so very much? 

You loved him so much, but now you doubt he ever loved you back. 

Date after date, coffee after coffee, nights spent together on his couch and in his bed, sharing laughter, sharing tears, it all feels like a hoax now. 

You held him when he was unconscious, stitched him up and told him he was going to be okay. Where was he when you were bleeding out from your own battles? You wonder.

His smile used to be your safe haven, the epitome of innocence and strength, but now it only makes you angry. It makes you resent him. You shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t, but you still do.

So much has changed, and all it took was one day. 

One day. 

Three hundred days, all wasted in one. 

If you think about it, you spent almost an entire year attached to each other’s side. You moved in together. You kissed, you had sex, you shared secrets you wouldn’t have told anyone else. You helped him hide away from the world, from his enemies, made the world go quiet, and comforted him while he cried. You waited up, you worried, and you almost lost him more times than you can count, and you still stayed.

When no one else would take a chance on him, when he felt everyone was against him and going to leave him, you acted as his rock. You stayed.

You thought he was the one. 

And then it just… ended. 

You gave him the benefit of the doubt when you found her in his dress shirt on his leather couch. The very same couch you two often shared passionate nights on, but at the same time it used to be a symbol of so much more than that.

You let him explain. He explained that she got seriously hurt after showing up out of nowhere, and he just wanted to help without putting you at risk. You believed him because that is the kind of man he was in your head. He was going through some things, things you couldn’t possibly understand, and she was the connection. You tried to understand. In the process of understanding him though, you lost yourself. 

That is something you will never forgive him for. Making you care, making you love him, and unintentionally making you give up on yourself while he continued to break your heart.

You never wanted this to end, never wanted him to go, but in the end, it was the only way. Sticking around wasn’t an option anymore, you have to remind yourself.

He did the one thing he promised he would never do. He broke your heart and your trust into a million pieces that you are now left to pick up on your own. 

You didn’t want to see it before. You were too in love to open your eyes.

He wouldn’t do such a thing, right? You remember repeating that to yourself, to your friends, to Foggy and Karen, but Karen saw him with her, too, and she gave you little hope.

Still, you believed in him. You believed in his morale and his faith. You had faith in him, not even in God but in him and the man he pretended to be—and somehow, he still picked up the knife when you weren’t looking and buried it in your back. 

There were so many signs, but you were blind. So many flashing lights. Red flags. Screaming voices in the back of your head begging you to think. You were in a forest full of trees, yet you saw nothing.

When you came home to find his lips on hers, that’s when you knew. Too little, too late.

He called your name. He told you, “This isn’t what it looks like!” But you lost count of the times he used the same line in relation to her.

To anything, really. He always knew how to talk his way out of something when you were together, although back then, it was mostly harmless.

“I trusted you,” you remember saying. You couldn’t even cry. “And you turned right back around and fucked her!”

“It was just a kiss,” he argued. 

“Are you sure about that? ‘Cause if I ask Elektra, I’m sure she will tell me the truth.”

“No,” Matt was adamant because he could hear your heart breaking.

The way you spoke to him was so eerily quiet. That was how he knew he lost you, and he tried to fix it with nothing but his hands. 

But that is not how you fix a broken vase. That’s how you make it worse and hurt yourself in the process.

You remember him opening his mouth, having the audacity to apologize. “I’m sorry,” he said. 

“No. Fuck you, Matt!”

You tore the necklace with his initial off your neck and tossed it at his feet. You couldn’t even look at it. You wonder what happened to it after he picked it up. 

“I trusted you. I gave you the benefit of the doubt. I was there when no one else was, and this is how you repay me?” you said.

You should have never let him fool you.

At least you had the decency to keep your lonely nights to yourself.

“Sweetheart, please,” Matt tried to beg again. 

You wouldn’t let him. Thank God you were strong enough to withstand the tears in his eyes. 

“You’re a fucking traitor, Matthew Murdock,” was one of the last things you said to him. “I wish we’d never met.”

Three hundred days. You fell in love. You finally knew what love felt like, and then…then he turned around and fucked it all up. 

“We’re done.”

Some days, you still regret it, but if it was so easy for him to toss all this time together down the drain, he probably wasn’t worth it. 

But God, you were so in love. 

Sweet nothings whispered in your ear are gone now. You’re all alone in your bed. No one to cuddle, no one to touch. It has been a while since you heard someone say, “I love you,” and mean it. You felt loved until you didn’t. Until the life he led ate him up. 

Instead of talking, instead of fighting with you, he drove you into a tree. A car that didn’t need sight, and still he crashed. It was winter then, the snow painted red by the blood of your broken heart. Your favorite dress torn up as you tried to escape. He reached for you the same way you reached for him, but you weren’t there. And he wasn’t there when you needed him most.

Part of you feels bad. You could have worked through this if he hadn’t kissed her. Or maybe you wouldn’t have. In the end, it killed you. It killed him. 

You killed each other. 

Though there are still days when you think about jumping off of very high somethings just to get his attention. Just for him to see you. To come to rescue you. It is a hurtful and selfish thought. Yet, you can’t help it. 

He was your first true love. 

Your mind keeps repeating the same sentence: It wasn’t supposed to end like this. 

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he told you once. 

He searched for something greater in the bed of someone he loved before. You weren’t his first love. You should have known he would say that and not mean it.

But when exactly did you go wrong?

Was it over when he stopped coming home at night? Was it over when he forgot your anniversary? Was it over when he canceled your birthday dinner? Or was it over when he shoved his throat down his ex-girlfriend’s throat in front of you and acted as if it didn’t matter? Was it over then?

“Another one for the lady,” a voice pipes up beside you. 

Your empty glass of tequila disappears, now replaced by a full one. In your drunken haze, you see a head of brown hair, and his smirk makes you wonder if there’s more to him than he lets on. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, tipping your glass to the stranger. 

“Nah, don’t thank me.” He sits down next to you. “You look miserable.”

“What if I am?”

“I’d tell you I know the feeling.”

You huff but offer the stranger your hand with a mention of your name.

He smiles. Your name rolls off his tongue effortlessly. “Frank,” he introduces himself in return. “Castle.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say. 

Broken people make bad decisions, but whether it was over when he took her right there on his couch, or it was over when you told him it was doesn’t matter. 

It is over now, and all you want to do is forget. 

You need to forget Matt Murdock. 

And if this stranger called Frank needs to unbutton your blouse to help you do so, you will gladly follow him home. 

Matt Murdock Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @itwasthereaminuteago @mattkinsella @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @thychuvaluswife @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @ravenclaw617

(also, I keep tagging you in stuff, but I also think you might like this @blackshadowswriter)

[dear--mars]

Do you think we’re soulmates in every universe?

── Synopsis: Soulmates. The concept sounded unreal, too good to be true. And it seemed it was. Nothing lasts forever and the thought of being together even in another world was just a dream.

── Characters: Blade, Aventurine, and Veritas

── CW: can't find anything. (please let me know if I missed any.)

── Notes: kinda occ ngl... [angst/no comfort]

── Word count: 591 + 891 + 867 = 2349 words in total

Blade ── Blade was a wandering soul. Both of you knew that and yet you still tried to tie him down. But could you really be blamed?

How could you think he wanted anything else when all he did was send mixed signals? One moment he’s cold and distant then he’s all over you, being needy and needing your comfort. So was it any surprise when you eventually got tired of his on-and-off behavior?

So you left. 

You started a new life on the small planet of Adion. You worked a job you actually liked, made new relationships, and never stressed too much about things that didn’t matter. It was the turning of a new leaf.

But with joy come sorrow and suffering.

A loud banging at your door echoed throughout your house. You tossed and turned in your bed, trying to fall back asleep, but the noise breaks the peaceful sleep you’re so desperately clinging to. 

You sat up, rubbing your eyes before taking a look at the clock for a few moments, it’s two in the morning. You had no idea what was going on but you had a familiar sense of deja vu that you couldn’t shake. 

"Damn it… Who the hell is that?" You mumbled to yourself before getting out of bed to walk to the front door. But once you saw who was at your door, every hint of fatigue fled your body as your blood ran cold. 

It was Blade.

You slightly faltered as your mind ran a hundred miles per hour trying to think of how he found you. You swallowed the lump in your throat and took a step back, not wanting to be in his vicinity.

Wordlessly, Blade reached out and stopped you. In the past, you would’ve said that Blade was one of the hardest men to read but as of right now, you could tell every thought that ran through his head.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that you haven’t seen each other for a few months. The slight tug on his eyebrows that showed frustration, the dark circles under his eyes told you that he hadn’t slept for a while, and lastly the desperation and relief hidden in his eyes.

“Why?” was the only thing he croaked out.

You immediately understood what he was asking and a flash of irritation crossed your face. “Are you serious? Why? Why did I leave?” You asked, finishing his question. When you saw him nod, you scoffed.

You pulled your hand away from his but it chased after your warmth instinctively. “Why wouldn’t I leave? What have you done for me to make me want to stay?” You spat out harshly.

Blade flinched and gritted his teeth. He reached out to grab your hand again, this time intertwining his fingers with yours. “Maybe not in this lifetime but do you think we’re soulmates in every other universe?” He mumbled out, clearly in a vulnerable state.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not anymore. You cared way too much in the past, it was time to move on from this chapter in your life. Time to move on from Blade. “Do you leave me in every universe?” Your tone was bitter.

Even more so than him. Only then did Blade truly realize just how much power you had over him. You could make him the happiest he had ever been, more than he thought he could be but you could also drag him into the deepest depths of pain and agony.

Aventurine ── Aventurine. What a man.

At times you couldn’t believe he was yours. Waking up next to him and seeing his smile made you fall in love with him all over again. But you should’ve suspected something was up with a man so perfect and flawless.

You should have anticipated this turn of events. The plot twist was so overused that the only appropriate response you could get out was laughter. Lovers betraying each other—how cliché. 

How could someone be so blind just because of love? You couldn't fathom it. You hated this trope and Aventurine knew that. Maybe that’s why he was smiling ever so slyly when he revealed his true intentions. 

After telling you the truth, Aventurine left your home cold and empty, taking any semblance of warmth with him. Years passed and you were forced to move on. Did you still love him deep down? Of course, but time moved forward whether you were ready or not.

Aventurine was born lucky. Being blessed by Gaiathra Triclops from birth, Aventurine grew up always having luck at his side. A fact that he hated but one that he relied on often. 

That’s why he thought no matter what, he’d always win. But Aventurine hadn’t known that his ‘luck’ only really constituted physical ideas and plans, not emotions. Especially his or yours, not after everything he did to you.

Aventurine felt a void in his chest like something was missing. You, Obviously but he would never admit that. As “carefree” Aventurine is, he still has his pride. He used you even if it was for work, catching feelings wasn’t an option.

But it never hurt to see how you were doing, right?

That’s the excuse Aventurine used as he sat in your hotel room. He never would’ve thought you’d be here in Penacony but it worked out in his favor. (Everything always did.)

Aventurine hears the door creak open and footsteps but they stop as soon as you laid eyes on him. Your eyes widened, you could recognize that tuff of blond hair just about anywhere in the universe.

Your breathing gets a bit heavier as your hands curl into fists. Aventurine doesn’t need to turn around to see you’re upset but he does anyway. He wants to see your beautiful face after all. 

God, you were extraordinary. Even after years of being apart, you still looked the same. If anything, you grew to be more attractive. Your soft skin, your plump lips, and your luscious hair that shined even under artificial lighting.

“Hey. It’s been a while, huh?” He asked, hiding his true feelings and masking them with a facade of confidence and nonchalance. “Never expected you to come to Penacony of all places.”

Your heart ached when Aventurine spoke to you with an air of familiarity. You hated how he acted like nothing happened between the you two. You ignored his words, cutting straight to the point. “What are you doing here.” You asked but it was more of a demand.

Aventurine raised his hands in mock surrender. “What’s with the hostility? I just came here to say hi and catch up.”

“Get out.” Your tone was bitter.

“Come on-” You cut him off,

“No. Get out of my room. Or wait, should I beg you to stay like last time so you’ll definitely leave?” You mocked, in slight disbelief of Aventurine’s audacity.

Aventurine ever so slightly faltered at your tone and words. “Okay, ouch.” He joked but deep down your actions hurt. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.” But when Aventurine saw the glare in your eyes, he decided to drop the facade.

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, a habit he did when he was feeling guilty or bad. “Do you remember our first anniversary? When we were having that picnic under that giant weeping willow?” He reminisced with a strained smile.

“You asked back then if we’d be soulmates in every universe and I said yes, knowing that I’d have to betray you. I feel like it’s my turn.” Aventurine paused and took a deep breath. “Do you think we’re soulmates in every universe?”

You didn’t hesitate in cutting down any and all expectations, Aventurine held. “Why would you think that when you ruined it for us in this one?” You counted with a question of your own.

Aventurine froze before smiling, trying to mask the pain in his expression. “I have to admit I wasn’t expecting you to say something so cruel but I understand,” Aventurine said with a smile, trying to act playful and nonchalant. 

He then left your room without any more complaints. The truth of the situation didn't hit him until he saw you at the bar, laughing and drinking with another man. Maybe my luck has finally run out. He thought, trying to shove back any emotions from leaking out.

Aventurine had never truly wanted anything in his life. He couldn't afford the luxury of wanting something. He never asked for all the wealth he amassed or the luck he was born with. Hell, he didn’t even really want freedom. After being chained down for so long, Aventurine wouldn't know what to do if he was free.

But you were different.

He wanted you. But he couldn’t. 

And that was what pissed him off the most.

Veritas ── Dating Veritas was not for the weakhearted. Due to his extreme talent and unparalleled intelligence, he holds himself in high regard. He comes off as candid, self-centered, and condescending. 

Even mocking or narcissistic at times. But you knew him better. Veritas was just a bit too blunt but he was sensible and levelheaded. He wasn’t a bad person. In fact, it’s the opposite. 

He firmly believes that intellect isn’t confined to geniuses and seeks to distribute knowledge to the entire universe, all to “cure” ignorance. He wants to help people but is just a bit odd or “mean” while doing it. 

He does have a bit of an eccentric temperament but he meant well. That’s what you always told yourself but that excuse was starting to grow old. You were trying to be considered an understanding of where he was coming from, you always have been.

But you can only take so much. A person can only get knocked down so many times before they decide it's better to just stay on the floor. And it seemed you were reaching that breaking point with Veritas.

He would always point out your mistakes, nitpick something irrelevant, or just for the sake of it. You started to wonder if he even loved you. Never once did he really show affection toward you.

At first you tried to acknowledge that he might not feel comfortable with that but after years of being together, if he still wasn't comfortable enough with you to show basic affection… You couldn't help but wonder, what the hell have you been doing for the past four years of your life?

One day you had enough. 

Your words rang clearly throughout his study, "Veritas, I think we should stop seeing each other." You said vaguely but the message was clear. 

Veritas froze upon hearing your words, not expecting you to say such a thing. "Why?" he asked simply, the coldness now turning into a sharp tone. The suddenness of this topic left him confused, a part of him wanting to lash out at you, but he refrained.

"I just don't think we're compatible as a couple."

Veritas scoffed as soon as you finished speaking, feeling slightly annoyed at that word. Was 'compatibility' the thing that doomed their relationship? "So you have realised we are not compatible after so many years of being together?" His tone now sharp with the hints of slight aggression.

You didn’t flinch at his cold tone. "You don't have to get so defensive, I'm not blaming you." You said with a gentle expression, which was odd for you. You've always been more hot-headed and impulsive so seeing you like this was weird to Veritas.

"It's just that I want to be loved in a more open way and you can't provide that for me which is okay. That's just not you, and I don't want you to change yourself for me. I'm sure you're more suited with someone who's like yourself. I'm just not the person."

Veritas could tell by your calm explanation, that you’ve been thinking about this for quite some time and that fact stabbed his heart in a way he’d never felt before. "I tried my best to love you as much as I possibly can, but apparently that was not enough for you..."

"Just because you love me doesn't mean I feel loved." You countered and Veritas froze. "Let's think about it this way. Let's say you're trying to teach somebody something. It's easy for you so you have high expectations for the person you’re teaching. But that person just doesn't get it. They're trying their best but they're not understanding. You would feel upset or annoyed, right? Because their best isn't good enough for you." You tried to explain in a way he would understand.

“The fault wouldn't be placed on the person who's trying their best, it would be placed on the one who had unrealistic expectations.” You finished with a strained smile. You loved Veritas, with all your heart but you couldn’t go on like this.

Veritas had to stifle the urge to argue for a moment. He hated how accurate your example was, but he also understood your point. “Do you believe in fate? Destiny and or soulmates, things like that?“ He asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

You paused, raising an eyebrow at him. Veritas was an intelligent man when it came to logic and reasoning. Things like destiny and fate weren't “logical” in the slightest. “I suppose.” You answered carefully.

“Do you think we’re soulmates in every other universe?” You blinked at Veritas’ question. Never in a million years would you have thought that he would ask you something like that. You sighed and decided to give him a taste of his own blunt medicine.

“Do you treat me like shit in every universe?” Veritas felt his heart shatter at your response. He didn’t know you felt like that. He didn’t know that he was treating you so badly to the point where’d you had to resort to this.

He regretted asking. This would perhaps be the only time he wished to remain ignorant, despite his life goal of getting rid of it. 

- Navigation -   - Supernova -

[icanhearcolors]

I really love the idea of Tav drawing Astarion to show him what he looks like, could you maybe write something about that? ^-^

Hiiiiii! I can indeed thank you for the request :b

Welcome back to another episode of Abby tries to write something short and can't make it less than two thousand words.

EVERYBODY LOOK AT THIS GIF CUZ KJNKBJHGFRRETFO

Sorry I think I got possessed for a second there

Word count: 2.1k

The night sky had never been this gorgeous in the city. In Baldur’s Gate, the upper city was illuminated by mage lights that adorned the cobblestone paths. The light was bright enough that the citizens split into two factions, the night life and the day. Even those without dark vision could operate solely at night in total comfort if they chose to. In the lower city, fires were always burning, sending plumes of rich smelling smoke into the air constantly, obscuring the night sky.

But out here, under the blue light of a full moon, you can see every star and constellation in vivid detail. A soft purr-like snore hums against your back, and you brush a hand over the downy feathers of the owlbear cub you rescued from the goblins. He was getting so big. If he gets half as big as his mother was it is going to become a challenge to travel with him. It’s a sacrifice you’re more than willing to make. Besides, you could always cast the reduction spell on him in a pinch if any problem arose. He sleeps curled around your back, alongside his friend Scratch the dog, whose fluffy white head is resting in your lap.

The campfire crackles a few yards ahead as Wyll adds a few logs, humming a Baldurian tune you recognize but can’t quite recall the name of.

For the first time since the nautiloid crash you feel peaceful. Safe.

You turn your gaze to Astarion’s tent, probably for the thousandth time tonight, and stare at his profile as he flips through the pages of the seemingly sentient necromancy tomb you had discovered a few tendays prior. A faint green light curls from the pages like mist, illuminating half his face and casting the rest in shadow. You’d never really understood the saying “so beautiful it hurts'' until you met Astarion. An unknown emotion compresses your chest in a way that makes it hard to breathe sometimes when you look at him. You think it started out as empathy. Every detail of Astarion’s story he revealed to either warn you about vampires or shock you for his own amusement painted a picture of a horrific life full of trauma and misery that you found hard to reconcile with your enigmatic companion. He was always the first to crack a joke. He laughed loudly and on a constant basis. From an outsider’s view he’d appear almost carefree. Happy even. You wondered now how much of that laughter was real, and how much of it was the armor he’d donned a couple hundred years ago when he breached the surface of his own grave. You recall a conversation you had with him a while back about vanity. In his two hundred and forty years, give or take, he’d only been able to see his reflection for thirty nine. An incredibly young age to die for a high elf, and a small fraction of his life-span. Even if any fuzzy memory remained of that past life, it was no longer accurate anyway. 

He was something different now. 

Your eyes slide to your pack. You had found something yesterday- something rare indeed. A merchant selling art supplies outside of the city. You had everything you needed to give Astarion something you took for granted every day. His reflection.

Slowly, both as to not disturb your sleeping friends and not alert the elf in question to your actions, you slip a hand inside the bag. Your fingers find a pencil easily, the paper next, and you begin to draw. At first you draw him as he is, using his current unmoving form as a model, but you had been quite the artist in your time in Baldur’s gate, and you finished that drawing almost too quickly. So, you draw him again from memory, this time with his head thrown back, face scrunched with laughter. Then you draw his frown, his smirk, the condescending expression he so often gives Gale, the softer one you don’t quite understand that he reserves for you. You don’t hide or downplay his vampiric traits. You draw him exactly as he is, blending colored chalk to capture every shade of red in his eyes. Time falls away as you lose focus on everything but your work. Eventually, some time much later, the cramps in your muscles wake you from your trance. You stretch, and your knees, shoulders, and spine crack loudly. Scratch wakes up, stands, shakes himself off, and trots into the bushes. Your owlbear notices, and trills a soft sound before standing too, following him into the woods. You smile as you watch them amble off, happy they get along so well. You turn back to your drawings and examine them with new eyes. You expected to feel excitement, pride maybe, but instead a cold feeling ties your insides in knots as you realize you can never give these to Astarion. The drawings are some of your best work, but they’re also… reverential. A glimpse of Astarion through your eyes. Anyone who saw them would think you had drawn your lover, not your less-than-trusting involuntary traveling companion. He would take one look and realize exactly what you’ve been hiding from him since- well since you met him. You were infatuated with the vampire, and somehow, miraculously, despite the fact that you’d slept with him once already,  he seemed to be unaware.

He was going to find out.

You eye the campfire, half tempted to toss the whole pad of paper into it.

In your panic you turn your gaze toward Astarion’s tent.

He’s not there. 

His tent is open, and no one is inside it. You can see that from here. 

Somehow- maybe it’s the tadpole, or maybe it’s because you’ve spent so much time with the rogue, you realize you know exactly where he is.

Slowly, as if to avoid instigating an attack from a stalking predator, you turn your head to find Astarion standing behind you, peering over your shoulder.

Even though you were expecting it, you still startle out of your skin. Astarion drops to his knees on the ground in front of you and claps his hand over your mouth just in time to muffle your screech. You both look at eachother with wide eyes before turning slowly and in unison towards a sleeping Lae’zel. She’s frowning in her sleep, which isn’t unusual for her. She twitches, and then rolls over to her other side, sound asleep. You sigh in relief, through your nose because your mouth is still covered by Astarion’s hand. You swat it away and throw him a withering glare.

“What the in the hells is wrong with you?” You whisper-shout.

Astarion presses his lips together and turns his head away from you for a moment, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

“Oh yeah, laugh it up. If she’d woken up we’d be dead right now.”

“Look it’s not my fault you weren’t paying attention. You haven’t moved in almost four hours, I wanted to know what you could possibly be writing.”

You clutch the drawing pad to your chest and swallow nervously, eyes darting around for any glimpse of something you can use to distract him.

Unfortunately as you’ve come to realize, regardless of what they used to be, once turned vampires become lethal predators. Astarion sees your darting eyes, catches the scent of your fear, and you see the shift in his demeanor. 

His movements become slower, more fluid, as he tilts his head in malicious curiosity.

He reminds you sometimes of the big cats that roam the mountains of Faerûn. Once something captures his attention, there’s little use in trying to pull him off the hunt.

Still, you’re going to try.

“I’m not writing.”

His eyes flick to your hands, dusted in red powder, then back up. He hums.

“Drawing then. What have you been drawing Tav?” 

His voice is darker now. Persuasive. 

“It’s- uh… personal.”

Astarion lowers himself fully to the ground and stretches his legs out in front of him, leaning back on his arms. 

“A personal drawing?” He purrs, “Well now I have to see it.”

“No-” You cover your face with your hand, “That’s not what I meant and you know that Astarion.”

A moment of silence passes, so you lift your hand away from your face.

Astarion is gazing at you with that unknown expression again. His eyes look earnest, a soft smile on his lips, when he speaks the words that are your undoing.

“You can trust me, Tav. I already know how talented you are, you don’t have anything to worry about. Just show me.”

You sigh, and his smile grows. He knows he’s won.

Bastard.

“Fine you can see my drawings, but I need to tell you-”

The drawing pad is already out of your hands, your permission apparently all that was keeping Astarion from snatching it away from you.

Your heart stops at his first look at the paper. He stills, flipping through the drawings slowly, his eyes tracing every detail with excruciating slowness.

Finally, he puts you out of your misery.

“I-” He clears his throat, not meeting your eyes. “These are...”

He grips the paper tightly when you attempt to take the drawing pad back from him. You’re confused, and a little… well actually very hurt for a reason beyond your understanding.

Does he hate it? Did you overstep?

“What are you thinking?”

Astarion finally looks at you, his expression guarded. He points to the drawings.

“Who is this?”

Oh.

You’re shocked silent. You should have anticipated this. Of course Astarion wouldn’t recognize himself in your drawings. That was the entire reason you drew him in the first place.

“He’s um-” You fall silent again.

Astarion looks both terrified and heartbreakingly hopeful. You’re sure he already knows the answer. You’ve spoken to him at length about what he is. You know that he knows he’s the only vampire spawn you’ve ever met, and you’ve been traveling together without much separation ever since.

He still needs to hear you say it.

You stare at your wringing hands in your lap and take a deep breath.

“I remembered that conversation we had about how you don’t know what you look like, you just have to go off of what other people tell you, and I bought these art supplies earlier and I haven’t drawn in so long, I used to all the time but with everything that’s going on- and I meant to just draw you once but I wanted you to know what you looked like when you smiled too and then I got a little carried away I’m so-”

You don’t hear him move. Your rambling speech stutters to a stop at the sensation of a hand on your cheek. Astarion hooks his thumb under your chin and lifts your head just enough to press his lips to yours.

Your eyes widen in surprise and then flutter closed. All thoughts cease, replaced by a languid warmth that melts you into a puddle on the ground.

You tilt your head and kiss him back, a tingling sensation racing down your spine. His hand slides from your cheek into your hair, and he gently pulls your head back, deepening the kiss in a way that steals the air from your lungs.

All too soon he pulls back, just a few inches, and smiles.

A real, genuine smile that shows his teeth and lights his eyes. You think you would do terrible terrible things to see that smile more often.

He brings his other hand up to frame your face, holding you in place as if he’s afraid you’ll pull away.

“Thank you.” He says simply, his voice hoarse.

“This is a gift. I won’t forget it.”

He repeats the words he said to you what feels like centuries ago, the night you found out he was a vampire and agreed to feed him. 

“You’re welcome.” Is all you can think to say.

With absolutely no warning at all Astarion drops his hands to your shoulders and yanks you toward him just in time. A pillow, rather violent in its velocity, grazes the back of your head in its catapult into the forest. Somewhere in the dark woods, Scratch yelps.

“Next time it will be my sword Isticks”

Growls Lae’zel from her bed roll on the other side of the campfire.

You turn back to Astarion with an amused but also terrified expression, and he smiles knowingly, rolling his eyes.

He picks the drawings up off the ground from where they’d been scattered at some point and gathers them in one hand. He stands, hoisting you up with his free hand, and practically drags you across the camp to his tent.

You’ll have to draw him more often.

[pucked-bunnie]

shocks and surprises⎜e.pettersson

pairings: elias pettersson x reader ⎜ft platonic quinn x reader prompt: "just tell me what you want from me." genre: romance ⎜fluff warnings: unexpected pregnancy ⎜ stressed reader ⎜ supportive elias⎜descriptions of mild panic attacks ⎜ synopsis: you can't help but be proud when elias gets invited to all star weekend - a little surprise puts a small spanner in the works word count: 2.6k authors note:  I already had this little Elias story planned but a prompt request I got fit in perfectly so i merged the two - it's short and sweet so I hope you all enjoy!

(unedited)

“Mother fucker.” The swear words slip out as you stare down at the plastic stick in your hand - the two bright red lines staring you in the face. 

“Everything okay in there?” Elias’s voice carries through the closed bathroom door, the wood creaking as he leans his weight against it. “We have to get going if we’re going to make it to the airport in time.” He says softly, as you take a deep breath, staring down at the test one more time before throwing it into the bin next to you - standing to flush the toilet and wash your hands.  

“Baby, are you sure you’re okay? You do look a little pale.” Elias asks as he lifts his hand to press against your forehead, frowning before he drops it back to his side. “You feel a little warm.”

“I’m okay, Elias.” You reassure him, a small smile stretching on your face as you move past him to grab your bags from beside the bed. “Just have a bit of a tummy ache is all.” You explain, your boyfriend understanding your explanation with a tight nod, before grabbing his own suitcase off the floor, motioning for you to lead the way out of your apartment. 

You don’t know why your first reaction is to pretend that nothing was wrong.

To pretend like those little red lines had never happened. 

But this weekend was supposed to be about him. 

Elias keeps his hand on your thigh the whole Uber ride to the airport, his fingers tapping gently against the fabric of your pants, the both of you looking out your respective windows, your brain spinning a hundred miles an hour as you glance over at your boyfriend. 

You had met Elias through his teammate Quinn - you and Quinn had known each other for years, meeting back in high school and becoming fast friends. In his second year in the NHL Quinn had invited you to come watch one of his games, wanting to catch up when he found out you were moving to Vancouver for work - and it was in a small bar near his shared apartment you had met the quiet swede, Elias being Quinn’s roommate and deciding to join the two of you for dinner after their game. 

Though your first few interactions left you confused about whether the stoic man actually enjoyed your company, it was the constant appearance of Elias whenever you were close by that helped you feel that maybe the tall hockey player did feel something towards you. 

As your Uber pulled up to the airport, Elias thanked him as the driver rounded the car to help you pull your luggage from the trunk, wishing the two of you well on your flight before pulling away from the curb. Elias watched you as you tugged your suitcase behind you, your eyes trained on the ground in front of you and your hand tight on the handle of your bag as the two of you made your way to the private boarding lounge with his teammate already waiting. 

He knew something was wrong from the moment you rushed to the bathroom after getting off the phone with your sister, your eyes wide and panicked as he followed after you. His concerns were confirmed when you slammed the door closed behind you, twisting the lock on the handle leaving him sitting at the end of your bed waiting for you to finish. 

“You made it.” Quinn’s voice snaps Elias’s gaze off you, one side of his mouth tilting as he nods his head in greeting to his fellow teammates, clapping his hand against Quinn’s outstretched one. 

“Only just.” Elias says jokingly, pulling away from his friend, watching as Quinn sweeps you up in a tight hug, the first genuine smile Elias had seen on your face all day, making his stomach flip like it always did when you smiled. 

It was his favourite thing to look at. 

“Looking as wonderful as always.” Quinn comments as he sets you back on the ground, his hands rubbing on your shoulder as he takes you in, despite seeing you less then two weeks ago. “Work must be keeping you busy, we haven’t seen you in ages.” He adds and you just nod, your mouth feeling dry. 

“She’s not feeling too good today.” Elias says as he slides up besides you - his arm sliding around your waist as he tugs you against his side, his warmth forcing your body to relax a little bit. Quinn shoots you a sympathetic smile as he turns to grab his bags when your flight attendant comes to gather you all for the private flight. 

“Let me take this.” Elias whispers as you reach for your suitcase, his hand grabbing hold of the handle first as he presses a gentle kiss against your cheek before moving forwards with both your suitcases in hand. Elias reaches out for you again as he hands your luggage off to the baggage workers standing besides the plane as you make your way onto the tarmac, his hand gripping your tightly as he leads you up the steps behind him, the two of you quickly finding a set of available seats before settling into the comfortable leather. 

The group let out an excited yell as the flight attendant makes her rounds with glasses of champagne - each of them swiping a glass as they wait for the pilot to prepare for take off. “Ma’am would you like a glass?” The attendant as she reaches your seats, already placing the glass in front of you before you get a chance to answer. 

You can feel your heart drop as you look at the sparkling glass in front of you. 

Your stomach turns as you feel nausea rise in your throat. 

Your breathing quickening as your eyes glaze over, watering just slightly as the heaviness in your belly. 

You know you’re overreacting but the sight of the alcohol in front of you is a reminder of the secret you aren’t quite ready to share - a short panic quickly interrupted by the sound of your boyfriend talking. 

“Would you mind switching this for a glass of apple juice?” Elias asks the attendant softly as she makes her way back down the aisle, his hand swiping the alcohol off the table in front of you as he hands it back to her. She nods quickly, taking the full glass down to the back of the plane swiftly, returning with a similar glass with a much less bubbly beverage. Elias nods his thanks to her as he places the glass back down in front of you without a word. 

“You know you can tell me if something is wrong, right?” Elias speaks so softly you can barely hear him over the chatter of his teammates and their families.  His hand finds its normal place on your thigh, his finger rubbing softly, reassuringly against your leg as you nod your head, your words still stuck in your throat, as the pilot announces over the intercom that the flight is ready for take off. 

Despite being a very quiet person, Elias has always been incredibly physical. He always needed some part of him to be touching some part of you to be content - his hand commonly finding purchase on your thigh or on the small of your back, but his favourite was when your two hands would clasp around one of his, squeezing tightly. 

The flight from Vancouver to Toronto took around four and a half hours - most of the excitement had worn off after about an hour, everyone settling into their seats and the cabin lights dimming slightly as everyone relaxed.

Elias’s gaze is trained on you, your eyes closed, head leaning gently against his arm and both of your hands wrapped around his, his oversized hoodie thrown on to fight the cold of winter. 

“She’s been quieter than usual.” Quinn comments, as he stops his walk down the aisle of the plane watching Elias watch you. 

“Somethings wrong, but she isn’t ready to tell me yet.” Elias says to his captain, his free hand reaching over to move some loose hair out of your face, your nose wrinkling at the small tickle on the side of your face. “I’m just worried she’s holding it all in, it’s gotta come out eventually.” He adds, Quinn nodding at his teammates words. 

“She’ll tell you, she probably just needs time.” Elias finally moves his gaze of you to glance over to his friends, a thankful expression on his face, as Quinn claps him on the shoulder before moving back towards his seat. 

Elias doesn’t sleep the whole flight - one hand scrolling through his phone the other still trapped in between yours as the flight attendant announces that landing would begin shortly. Elias tucks his phone into his jumper pocket, before reaching his now empty hand to gently cup your face, his thumb rubbing soft circles on your cheek. 

“Baby? We’re about to land.” He whispers quietly, your eyebrows furrowing in a frown as you let out a soft groan. “You need to wake up, princess.” He says again, chuckling as one of your hands releases his to swat away his hand on your face. 

“I’m awake.” You huff as you swat at his hand again, pulling your face out of his reach, letting go of his hand to rub at your eyes - the lights in the cabin turning back on as the plane makes its descent. 

“Sleep well?” He questions softly, your head nodding as you pout. Elias’s face lights up with a fond smile as he adds, “You can sleep more at the hotel, the event doesn’t begin until tomorrow.” 

As the plane hits the tarmac, you pick up your phone from your lap, turning off airplane mode - the screen lighting up with missed messages. 

‘So…what did the test say?’  The message from your sister, puts a new frown on your face, tucking your phone quickly into the hoodies pocket before Elias can get a glimpse at the message. 

‘It’s okay if it’s positive and it’s okay if it’s negative.’ 

‘Have you and Elias talked about this yet?’ 

‘You’re probably flying now, but call me if you need anything.’ 

The messages continue pinging from your phone, Elias raising a brow as he glances down at the device in your pocket. “Are you gonna answer those?” You just shake your head, your bottom lip trapped between your teeth as your eyes start to water. 

Not again. 

Everything is blurred by the rushing of your minds, Elias’s hand in yours the only thing keeping your body moving as you try to focus on breathing slowly - the voices around you sounding muffled as Elias wraps his arms around your shoulder, pulling you against him tightly. 

“We’re gonna go straight to the hotel, she's feeling pretty bad.” You hear your boyfriend explain to your friends as he grabs your luggage rushing you off the tarmac and into the first taxi that stops. 

The ride to the hotel is silent, your hands clasped together, your gaze not leaving the floor - Elias watches your closely as he takes the lead, checking the two of you in quickly, guiding you up into the hotel room without a hitch, leaving the suitcases by the door as he follows you into your hotel room, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. 

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Elias asks as he watches you wander around the room, your teeth nibbling on the side of your thumb, a nervous habit Elias hadn’t seen in a while. 

“Huh?” You ask, your head snapping up and your arms dropping to your sides - your gaze flicking around the hotel room in confusion before focusing back on your boyfriend. 

He looks tired - is all you can think as you take him in - a lump getting caught in your throat. 

“I can’t help you, if you don’t tell me what’s going on.” He explains, his hands reaching out for yours, pulling you to stand between his legs as he looks up at you. “What is going on?” He asks again, expecting the way you let out a choked sob. 

He was expecting the way the tears slipped down your cheeks. 

He was definitely expecting the way you try to stop crying almost immediately, feeling ashamed at showing your overwhelming emotions. 

“It’s okay to be upset” He says softly, reaching up to gently swipe the tears off your face, “But I want to understand why you’re so upset.” Your tears fall harder at the soft expression on his face. 

The words still seem impossible to get out. 

“Baby, I need you to be super honest with me.” He starts when he realizes you aren’t managing to speak yet, your panic still in control. “Are you pregnant?” 

Everything stops. 

The tears, the gasping for air, the constant whirring in your head. 

“What?” You can’t help but ask, confused as to how Elias had figured it out so quickly. 

“I saw the test box in the garbage bin before we left - and you haven’t had your period in two months.” He explains, his hands smoothing up and down your arms as he speaks. 

“How do you even know that?” Your voice is a whisper, a soft smile blooming on Elias’s face as you finally manage to speak. 

“I have a tracker on my phone - I just wanna make sure I know when to make you comfortable.” He says gently. 

He pauses for a moment, watching you suck in deep gulps of air before asking again, “are you pregnant?” He watches as your face crumples again, your head nodding your answer as he pulls you into his body, his arms wrapping tightly around you as he tries to soothe you. 

“When were you going to tell me?” He asks, patient for your answer. 

“I don’t know. I didn’t want to ruin the weekend.” You answer, your head tucked against his shoulder as you manage to calm down. 

“Why would this ruin the weekend? Isn’t this good news?” Elias asks, his hand stroking the back of your head softly, as he rocks the two of your side to side. 

“Is it?” You ask back, pulling your head away from his shoulder to glance down at him. “We’ve never even talked about something like this happening before, Elias.” He just nods, understanding your concerns as his hands move to stroke against your back. 

“Is it something you want?” He asks, the question making you falter slightly. 

“I don’t know.” 

“That’s okay.” He affirms, smiling up at you. “We don’t have to know everything right now, but I don’t think this is a bad thing.” His words are gentle as per usual, the sassy man always had a sweet spot for you - always knowing what to say and when to say it. 

“Just tell me what you want from me, and I’ll give it to you.” He explains, “If you’re not ready then we can figure something out - I want whatever you want.” He continues, leaning forwards to press a kiss against your wet cheek, your head nodding furiously as you take in what he says. 

“Okay.” You speak quietly, returning his growing grin. 

“Okay.” He responds, his arms pulling you back to his chest in a crushing hug - the excitement radiating off him. “I hope it’s a girl.” He adds quietly, your heart racing as images of Elias with a little girl on his shoulders race through your mind, tears starting to well up in your eyes again. 

“Pregnancy hormones really are no joke.” Elias chirps, his thumbs wiping at the fresh tears with a chuckle as you smack at his chest.

[txt-trash]

former lover’s dance | choi yeonjun

summary: choi yeonjun is your average dance instructor in need of a place to stay. you’re a college student majoring in dance, there’s history between the two of you and when you find out you’ll be living together… the chemistry of dance seems to bring you back to each other.

➣ college. roommates. smut. exes.

➣ 10.5k words

warnings: smut. Yeonjun and oc are ex FWBs. roommates. Yeonjun is kinda cocky. oc does not acknowledge him that much. smut in the dance room. missionary. foreplay. unprotected intercourse. public sex. inspired by shoong! — Taeyang and LISA

As much as Yeonjun hates to admit this, he’s not at all surprised by the turn of events. Okay, scratch that, he’s very surprised actually—but not by the way you acted. You seemed to read each other’s minds when you decided to ignore each other and act like you had no idea who the other was. It made it easier for him to deal with this… surprise.

When he first ever saw an ad for a share house he thought it was exactly what he needed. He needed a space but he also didn’t want to pay the expensive price it would be to live alone and having roommates would at least lower the amount. He could survive with shared spaces as long as he had his privacy, right?

Wrong, very wrong, he doesn’t think he can mentally survive this unless he acts like you’re a complete stranger to him.

The problem is, Yeonjun is an asshole and he knows it. That’s why it’s very hard for him to hide his annoyed smirk when you introduced yourself, not bothering to even look at him, but it’s alright. He doesn’t care and if that’s the game you wanna play, he can play it a hundred times better.

“So what are you studying right now? You go to __ University right?” Beomgyu, one of the other housemates asked you. You were the last to arrive on move-in day but Yeonjun isn’t surprised, you’re late to literally everything. Now everyone’s throwing questions that you missed and you looked slightly bored trying to answer them all.

“Dance,” you said, “But I’m only a part-time student because I have a job too.”

“Oh! Yeonjun is a dancer too!” Mira pointed out, and you know she was only being nice and trying to form connections between housemates but it made you want to roll your eyes so fucking bad.

“Have you two ever met? The dancing community can’t be too big,” Beomgyu said looking between you two but you both shook your heads No and refused to speak more on it.

It wasn’t a mutual understanding of each other, it was a mutual disliking for each other.

You didn’t always completely hate Yeonjun but that was probably like two years ago and now everything the guy does just annoys you. The question is why, right?

Well… as embarrassing as this is to admit… the two of you hooked maybe once, twice [?], alright maybe three times before in the past. It was never anything serious, always late at night, usually drunk, a little too flirty, you know how it goes.

Anyway, you know that’s not a reason to dislike someone so you’ll explain what you can about the situation.

Personally, you need reassurance, validation, any sort of answer so that you don’t jump to conclusions and think something is going on when there’s nothing. Yeonjun isn’t like that, he expects you to know what he’s thinking and what he wants even if he doesn’t give you a single hint to what that could be.

That’s why when he came up to you at some party drunk off his ass accusing you of playing him, you had absolutely no idea what he was going on about!

Your hookups were sporadic and your texts few, so how were you supposed to know he wanted to pursue something when he never told you? Yeah alright, maybe you had feelings for him too but then time passed and you thought that was the end of your little rendezvous and moved on like a normal person would.

How were you supposed to know Yeonjun got a big head and expected you to initiate a real relationship with him when you didn’t even know that was something he wanted in the first place?

This is why you hate men.

But enough of that, that was two years ago and you’ve got a bigger problem on your hands:

You’re going to be living with him now.

The first couple of days it was easy for him to act like you didn’t exist. You were all still in the process of moving in and with his dance classes, he was a busy guy. Unlike you, he’s graduated already and on top of that he teaches dance at a local studio. He’s well known too, but he knows that it’s not just because of his dancing, it’s his looks too.

There’s a reason why so many of his dance classes are filled with girls asking if they can partner with him on choreography but he always says no. He has a certain dance style that doesn’t always match well with every dancer and not all can have that sort of chemistry he’s looking for in partners.

The last person he collabed with was… well, you.

He can say how much he dislikes you and he’ll mean it every single time, but he’ll never deny the fact that you’re a good dancer and when the two of you dance together it’s very hard to ignore the chemistry and tension there. Before anyone says anything, no it’s not just because you two were sleeping together at the time—hell, if anything that’s why you slept together.

Beyond the point though, the point is that he's done very well avoiding you and he hopes he can keep it up until the lease ends.

“Alright everyone get in position,” Yeonjun said as he rolled the short sleeves of his oversized t-shirt to his shoulders.

“Are you going to have a partner this time?” One of the dancers asked as they got in order for practice by the number they were given. Everyone was divided into smaller dance units based on skill and synchronization for him to further examine before they shoot their YouTube video.

“No,” Yeonjun answered as he played a song that they would be practicing, Shoong! by Taeyang and LISA. He’s going to teach them the basics today and next time he’ll go into more detail before dividing them all by either partner or trios.

He makes good money off of this, other than paying his dance studio fees, all the rest goes into his pockets and with his YouTube choreography videos and the fact that he currently teaches three classes, he clearly has the funds to live alone. He just thinks that’s boring.

A bird has told him that you also started teaching a class not far from him but he’s not interested in knowing more, he swears.

“Come on Junnie, I want a one on one,” one of the girls he taught stayed behind after class, “I really want to partner up for a video.”

“Sorry Jihyun, I don’t dance with my students,” Yeonjun said as he tried packing up, “Then it’s like I’m giving you favoritism.”

“Nobody has to know,” she said in a soft and feminine voice that had him smiling but not for the reason she hoped for.

“I don’t think so,” Yeonjun said as he closed his duffel bag, “Be careful going home, alright? It’s late.”

Yeonjun is not a changed man by any means, he still enjoys hook up culture but he’s completely barred off his dancers. He’s trying to be professional, he’s danced background for celebrities before and he’s hoping he could get those type of connections for the people he teaches. He doesn’t want to be one of those sleepy instructors who take advantage of all the pretty girls who dance for him.

And before anyone says anything, you did not dance for him. Sure, you’re a bit younger but still relatively close in age so when he met you it wasn’t like he was your dance teacher. You met attending another dance class and were partnered up for a song and things just clicked from there. It was never anything serious between you two so him sleeping with you is not the same as one of his girls coming onto him.

When he got home that night he was past exhaustion. He had a lenient schedule but after teaching his classes back to back, it was tiring. It was late already and he expected everyone to be in their room’s doing their own things but of course things never really go his way when you’re involved.

He rolled his eyes the second he saw you in the kitchen and went straight to his room. Yeonjun planned on staying there the entire night until his stomach growled and his snack stash was gone. With an annoyed huff, he left his room in hopes that you weren’t there but life sucks and there you stood.

Your nose scrunched in disgust but it wasn’t because of the fact that he clearly just got done with dance practice and reeked of sweat. He moved around you as he looked for something to eat in the dead silence that you two created on your own accord.

“Y/n, when did you get home?” Taehyun asked and your face lit up immediately. You’ve become school buddies ever since you found he was your junior—but only by a little. You went to school together and on the days you had class you agreed to go together.

“Just now, I got off work late,” you told him as he came over to see what you were making. It was a very sad excuse for ramen and Taehyun didn’t hide the look of sympathy he sent you when he saw it. He chose to turn to Yeonjun instead, “You just got here, too?”

“Yeah, I was teaching my class,” Yeonjun mumbled as he served himself a bowl of cereal.

“What song?” Taehyun asked. Unlike you and Yeonjun, Taehyun is interested in getting to know his housemates. He doesn’t have many friends aside from Kai so he doesn’t see why he shouldn’t try and get to know everyone better.

“Shoong!” Yeonjun said as he stuffed his mouth with Lucky Charms.

Taehyun smiled, “Are you doing a duet with someone?”

“Nope,” Yeonjun said as you turned the stove off and finished preparing your own late dinner, “Not everyone can comprehend what I want.”

Taehyun looked between you two, finding it hard not to notice that since everyone moved in, you’ve both been very closed off from each other. Call him nosy but that’s because he is.

“Maybe you just expect people to know what to do without actually telling them what it is,” you finally said and he is not at all surprised that the first thing you’ve said to him all week.

“Maybe people should just use common sense and context to know what I mean,” Yeonjun said and yes, he knows that at this point he’s just being petty but who cares. If that’s the first thing you want to say to him then he has absolutely no problem serving the dish right back to you.

“Common sense would be actually using words to tell someone what you want an—“

“Alright, alright,” Taehyun intervened with a nervous chuckle, “Um… I want to see the dance when it’s done but um, I think I’m gonna go to bed early.”

Neither of you reacted as you stared each other down, waiting for the other to look away first.

“So you’re done ignoring me now?” Yeonjun finally said and there was no way for you to ignore the sarcasm laced in his voice. It made you roll your eyes as you said, “Probably not.”

“You know you don’t have to act like you don’t know me,” he said and he knew he was being a hypocrite. He’s been doing the same thing, the only difference is that he’s called you out on it first.

You shrugged, acting indifferent, “You’re the one who said you didn’t care if I ever spoke to you again, like the drama queen you are.”

Yeonjun scoffed, no longer as hungry as earlier, “That’s because you started avoiding me.”

“How? Because I didn’t text you? You didn’t text me either, remember?”

“Actually, I did text you but you were too busy flirting with another guy at a party,” Yeonjun said, clearly annoyed now and ready to argue.

“We weren’t even dating,” you said with another shrug that made his blood boil at the thought being brushed off. With a scoff, he dumped his milk down the drain and stood next to you, “I didn’t think that mattered when you were in my bed the fucking night before.”

“First of all, who told you I was flirting with some guy?” You asked with furrowed brows clearly confused, “And why is it my fault when you never told me you wanted to get serious? I’m not a mind reader so stop blaming me—“

“You’re right, you’re right. I’m so sorry Y/n, nothing is ever your fault.”

He stormed off to his room and unbeknownst to you both, there was a very nosy housemate with his ear pressed against his bedroom door listening to the whole thing.

Okay, maybe you weren’t fully honest in the beginning. You know that you were equally to blame for why you and Yeonjun never worked out but you were also very different people when it came to expressing yourselves. He doesn’t feel the need to use words for assurance and you’re the opposite.

It’s a beige flag of yours, not green or red. You just don’t want to assume something without being told anything about it. Yeonjun never said anything so you never acted like you two were going to become anything more than what you already were. Still, it’s not fair for him to act like he was always very vocal about what you two had.

Plus, to make things clear, you and that guy Yeonjun said you were flirting with? Yeah, that’s just Beomgyu, your friend and he would know that too if he asked you instead of just listening to whatever a random person told him about you flirting that night. You just gave up on feeling like you should explain yourself to him when clearly he wasn’t listening to you at the time.

You just didn’t feel the need to explain yourself to a guy who clearly wouldn’t listen either way so in the end you let him think whatever he wanted to and dropped him.

“What’s wrong with your face?” Beomgyu asked you as you plopped down on the chair next to his. You were supposed to be meeting your friend in the library, not immediately being made fun of the second you sit down.

Choosing to ignore his obviously rude comment about your distress, you chose to say, “I just found out what my final is.”

Beomgyu gave you a dumb look waiting for you to elaborate. You rolled your eyes because sometimes your friend annoys you just by looking at him, “I have to make a dance for the summer seminar.”

“That’s easy though so why do you look so dumb?” Beomgyu asked and you leaned across the small coffee table filled with textbooks to smack him.

“It is easy but we have to do a collaboration for the dance and people must hate me in class because everyone partnered up and left me out,” you ranted to your friend who smacked his lips.

“They’re probably just intimidated because you’re so good,” he sent you a wink and although he’s trying to make you feel better all it did was make you think about those moms who tell their daughters that the reason every girl hates them is because they’re pretty and not because they’re a bad person.

You don’t think you’re a bad dancer by any means but you do think that you tend to close yourself off from everyone. It can come off cocky and arrogant when you prefer to stick to yourself and dance alone but you don’t mean it like that. You just don’t want to disappoint someone else so you tend to avoid doing anything as a group or duo. Clearly you bit yourself in the ass here.

“So what are you gonna do?” Beomgyu asked when his attempt at flattery fell on deaf ears.

“Well I asked if I could do a solo and the bitch said no because it had to be a collaboration but she did say if I find someone to dance with she’ll let me perform,” you explained to him, “And it can be someone who’s not a student but it would basically need to be recorded in some way so that it’s obvious I took part in creating the choreography.”

“You know who you can ask?” Beomgyu asked and part of you knew what he was going to say before he even said it.

“Yeonjun.”

“No,” you shook your head, “I haven’t danced with him in two years and we’re not on good term—“

“Yeah but you live together and he’s a choreographer too,” Beomgyu said, being the voice of reason that it pissed you off, “You two can hate each other all you want but when it comes to dancing you have a mutual understanding of what works and what doesn’t.”

“He won’t help me,” you tried to say but your best friend only rolled his eyes.

“Have you asked?”

With an annoyed smack of your lips you looked away from mumbling about how much you hated Beomgyu for possibly being a genius. You would need to ask your advisor if it would even work with Yeonjun and if she gives the okay then maybe you can try and ask?

You just don’t see him saying yes.

Yeonjun is annoyed, very very annoyed with himself to the point where he can’t even hide it. All of his students knew he was mad and they probably thought it was toward them but it really wasn’t.

It’s just that Yeonjun had a vision for this dance and it’s just not going the way he would like it to. He knows that it doesn’t have to be perfect but he wants it to be. He’s got a good YouTube following and out of all dances, if he fucks up this one then he knows there will be a lot of hate in the comments.

He can’t get Lisa’s part right no matter how hard he tries and he can’t expect the dancers to know how he wants it to be done if he doesn’t have someone to help him show them how to do it. He needs someone who knows how to appeal to their charms and move sensually and a bit hypnotizing to match the lyrics. He needs someone who he can dance with and be able to portray the exact story he’s trying to tell with this dance and it can’t just be anyone. If he chooses one of his random dancers and there’s a clear lack of chemistry then it’ll just look stiff.

He knows what kind of dancer he’s looking for but no way in hell is he gonna do anything about it. His only option is to be mad and postpone the dance until he can get it just right.

“So how’s the share house?” Soobin asked him as they went into a convenience store for some cheap snacks, “Wait, let me word it differently, how’s the share house with Y/n?”

“Fine,” Yeonjun said as he added a couple drinks into his basket, “We don’t talk.”

It’s true, aside from that time in the kitchen the two of you barely spoke. It probably had something to do with the fact that Kai is very obviously trying to probe you two into talking so his nosiness is cured but it was only making you shut off more.

Aside from his whole thing with you, he’s actually very content with his living arrangement. Kai is like a little brother that annoys him but he still likes hanging out with him at the house. Mira is a grad student in med school so she’s rarely home but she’s nice and quiet and always clean. You… sometimes you’re rarely home between work, school and avoiding him, he never has to worry about you so that’s a plus.

Of course sometimes it’s still awkward but that’s only because he’s seen what your body looks like completely undressed underneath him but he’s an adult, he can look past that.

Your little game of acting like you never met was short lived though since Taehyun was very quick to catch onto you two but he still doesn’t know why exactly you acted like strangers.

“Alright but how is not talking to Y/n working out for you?” Soobin asked and it made Yeonjun laugh.

It was two years ago, he moved on past that and Soobin knows this. The only reason why it’s being brought back up is because he hasn’t been this close to you in two years. Obviously he had to see you during that time because you’re technically in the same career path but he never had to actually interact with you. Living with you has completely changed that and he has to see you in the morning and night time so it does change things. He gets why Soobin is bringing you up but Yeonjun wishes he wouldn’t.

That’s why he’s laughing, it just seems ridiculous to suddenly make everything about you the second the two of you reconnected, “It’s just the same as it’s been the last two years.”

Soobin looked at him with narrowed and suspicious eyes but just sighed, “If you say so.”

Yeonjun was done talking about you as he carried his things to the checkout line.

When he got home that night he didn’t expect to see a somewhat familiar face in the kitchen.

The house was big, huge actually and it was normal for one of you to bring a guest over but Yeonjun hasn’t seen him since the last time he was at your place.

Beomgyu looked up at him with a jump as Yeonjun took his shoes off at the door. He waved a hesitant hand in his direction as he closed the fridge door holding your drink in his hand. Beomgyu cleared his throat, “Hey.”

“Hey,” Yeonjun said casually as he went over to the guy and greeted him like they were friends. In truth he has absolutely nothing against Beomgyu. They only met a couple times when he was hanging out with you and he thought he was a good guy. Of course when Yeonjun stopped talking to you he stopped seeing Beomgyu too but it wasn’t a loss of any sort. Beomgyu felt the same too because unlike you, he could see where you both made faults and despite being your friend it’s not like he had a reason to completely despise the guy. You can say all you want about Yeonjun but he knows that you don’t hate your old fling.

“Gyu!” You yelled with a huff as you got off your bed and walked downstairs to the kitchen, “Where the hell is my drink!?”

Beomgyu rolled his eyes, “I’m not your errand boy if you wanted it to be quick you could’ve come yourself!”

When Yeonjun heard you he took it as his sign to leave but he still ended up meeting you at the stairs. You caught him by surprise when you spoke up as he attempted to walk past you.

“Did you just get home?”

It was so simple and yet he was so taken back by it that he nearly fell on his face when he tripped, “Me? Yeah, I went to the store.”

That was all you were going to ask him about and before he could ask you something in return, you were already leaving. He went to stop you but he didn’t know why, so instead he just left and acted like it didn’t happen.

Living with four people wasn’t as hard as you would think. Yeonjun wouldn’t even say he’s still annoyed to be living with you because you’re just his roommate and nothing else. You talk but it’s not about anything, only casual conversations in passing.

Taehyun always went to his room to bother him because they’ve become actual friends apart from housemates but he still can’t say the same about you. That’s why he was very surprised to see you at his door.

To make things more awkward, he’s just come out of the shower, and thinking you were Taehyun—he was just in his sweats. His hair was wet and dripping down on his shoulders and he was closing the door right in your face telling you to hold on.

You rolled your eyes at the shy way he acted despite quite literally being inside you but you couldn’t deny the blush that raised in your cheeks. Obviously this situation is very different though and you haven’t been in good words so you were fine with him slamming the door in your face to finish changing.

Yeonjun hurried to open the door back up, “What’s up?”

“Can I come in?” You asked, making him move to the side and let you through. You went in and immediately took a look at your surroundings. You’ve been in Yeonjun’s dorm before but this was very clearly different and that was a while ago anyway.

You pointed to his bed as if asking if you could sit and he nodded his head letting you go while he went to his desk and picked up his towel again. He had to finish drying off his hair and it would work as something he could fidget with while you talked.

He had absolutely no idea what you were going to say.

“I’m going to keep it straight with you,” you said, taking a nervous breath, “I need your help.”

“With?” Yeonjun asked with a confused expression. After being so petty toward each other you still weren’t shy to say you need his help? That’s what made him curious to know what you had to say.

“Ugh,” you groaned, “Well, uh, um…”

Sike, he thought, you’re definitely a little nervous to be asking him this right now and you still don’t know how to say it.

Yeonjun pretended to be annoyed, “Spit it out.”

“Ineedyoutodancewithme.”

“What?” Actually, he understood you clearly.

You rolled your eyes because you know he understood and he was still smirking in your face waiting for you to repeat it. Instead you said, “You're annoying.”

“You’ve called me worse,” Yeonjun with a shrug as he gave up on keeping distance and let himself fall back against his pillows and headboard, “Anyways, why do you need me to dance with you?”

You released an exaggerated sigh, “For the summer seminar, nobody wanted to collab with me—“

Your words were cut off as Yeonjun nearly spit on your face from failing to hold back his laughter. Without thinking you snatched a pillow and chucked at him—for a moment forgetting that the two of you didn’t get along anymore. He grabbed the pillow before it can hit him and set it down on his lap, “That’s because you’re a bitch to work with.”

“You know what? Fine, I rather fail this stupid final than beg you to dance with me,” you were clearly irritated but you couldn’t storm off like you so badly wanted to because he held your wrist to stop you.

He had a lazy smile on his face as he dragged you back to the bed and you would be lying if you said you’ve seen that look before. He chuckled, “Relax, I liked dancing with you.”

“So you’ll help?”

“Yes,” Yeonjun said as he let go of your wrist to sit up better, clearing his throat as he said, “And actually, this uh, this really benefits me right now.”

“How?” You asked him even though your insides were turning over from how happy you were. You can’t believe he actually said yes, and he’s perfect. Your professor will find credibility in him and she’ll see you create the dance with him through his video camera.

“I’ve been blanking so hard on the dance I wanted to do for a video, I’ve changed the choreo twice already,” Yeonjun said honestly, “I can’t get the girl’s part right and um, you know… I was thinking of asking you too.”

Ugh, you both nearly gagged because clearly time hasn’t changed the fact that when it comes to dance your minds think alike. Maybe that’s why you thought it would work in a sex life too.

“What song?”

“Is this a bad time?”

You both looked to the door looking like deer caught in headlights and Taehyun only stared at you two with amusement. Yeonjun wanted to chuck the kid out of his bedroom window for obviously seeing the two of you having a conversation and still choosing to interrupt. It’s not like Taehyun doesn’t know that you two haven’t spoken more than a few words since you moved in a couple months ago. Why did he have to come and ruin it aside from being a little shit?

“And I’m leaving,” you sighed dramatically knowing it would get a reaction out of Taehyun as you got up, “Guess we’ll have to do it next time.”

“Do what?” Taehyun asked as you shut the door with your leave, whipping his head back to Yeonjun his eyes went wide, “Do what? What were you guys gonna do? Oh my god, I thought you hated each ot—“

Taehyun slammed into the door in exaggeration as the pillow you once threaded Yeonjun with hit him right in the stomach.

Yeonjun won’t admit this to your face but boy is he happy that you’re dancing with him. It’s only been two days and already the choreography for Shoong! is coming out so well. The tripod was set up with his camera but he only recorded certain parts to save memory. He’ll send you the videos in the end and you’ll see how it comes out.

You both have spent the last two nights staying at the studio past midnight trying to perfect this for his video since that comes out sooner. You’ve pretty much figured it all out except Lisa’s part. You and Yeonjun were so used to working together that making a dance was so fast and easy because you understood the image you were trying to tell.

Once this is complete you’ll join him in a class or two to help teach the partner’s part in Lisa’s verse.

There’s only one downside to this arrangement and it isn’t bad or anything, but at the same time he thinks it is.

He’s never struggled dancing with another person especially as a back up dancer but like he’s said before, he’s not always as comfortable or intimate. That’s not a problem he’s having here considering he happens to know your body very well and how it moves against his. It’s bringing out some old feelings that he would prefer would just disappear.

You danced the beginning of Lisa’s part which was more of a so for you and Yeonjun danced further behind but not as the center. You were basically the one leading him for this part and there was no denying that tension was coming back. The way he looked at you as you pointed a crooked finger in his direction practically calling him over to you until your bodies pressed together to the choreography.

When it got to the part in Lisa’s verse where she sang:

‘You pull up in the lambo’ Yeonjun had managed to get behind you but not fully as he pressed your back into his side while doing a steering motion with right hand. His hand was down at your waist as he follow the best of the music and matched a swift circle of your waists together that matched the motion of your pretend steering as you practically grinded against him when he bent his knees to match you.

Right when that line ended you dropped down to your knees swiftly as you raised your hips back up following the hand he had grazing your side as if he was raising them off the ground himself.

You finished off the rest of her part on the floor until the male’s part started again and Yeonjun raised you off the floor by pulling on your hand until your bodies pressed against each other again before finishing off a synchronized dance.

When the soft voice of Taeyang sang the repeating shoong! lines, your hips met again and Yeonjun trailed a finger down the length of your arm sensually before bending you back to rest your head on his chest and end with an intimate sway of your hips together before the beat picked up for the outro.

By the end of the one on one practice you both were out of breath and you would be lying if you said it was just the dancing that caused it.

This is what he was worried about. In the back of his head he knew he wouldn’t be able to dance with you again without wanting to do all the things you did in the past. There was just no way he could feel the way your body fit perfectly with his without being reminded of what it was like to feel it closer. He knew you felt the same too because you couldn’t stop looking at him with those eyes that got him every damn time.

You cleared your throat, “One more time.”

That was all he needed to hear before playing the song from the beginning once again.

By the end of that night the two of you were too pumped up to go to bed. Usually after a night of practice you both were too tired to do anything but wash up and go to bed, tonight was not one of those nights apparently.

“Fuck I can’t get the song out of my head,” Yeonjun laughed quietly as he let himself fall into the couch in the living room. You both went home together for obvious reasons and it was so late that you were completely alone downstairs. Mira was most likely at her boyfriend’s place and Kai was probably playing his game so damn loud he couldn’t even hear his own yelling voice.

You still shushed him as you sat next to him, “Shh.”

“I can’t help it,” he whined like he was drunk and it was very amusing. He feels like he’s drunk, he hasn’t felt this comfortable dancing with someone in a while and it’s you of all people.

He really does have the song stuck in his head and was all because of the way you danced to it. He can’t stop thinking about the glide of his hand down your hips again. A feeling he’s all too familiar with.

“Wanna order pizza?” Yeonjun asked suddenly but you didn’t even act taken back.

“It’s midnight,” you whispered to him and he just smirked. You looked at his pretty face, “It’s not healthy to eat so late.”

He leaned toward you and mimicked your whisper, “When has that ever stopped anyone from ordering pizza?”

“Okay fine, order it, but I wanna shower while we wait for it to get here. Hurry up though or I’ll go to bed,” you said and he only grinned wider.

“Yes ma’am, I’m right on it,” he teased as he went on his phone knowing you most likely rolled your eyes at him. You’re being bossy with him again and he knows that it’s because you’re comfortable telling him something. It’s like a form of love language with you, you treated Beomgyu the same and you used to treat Yeonjun like that again.

Fuck, why is he overthinking it?

He shouldn’t like you like that again.

Things were going too fast again. This is what happened last time and there was no way you can say it’s not happening again. It’s because you started dancing with him again, that’s why he’s been all you could think and you just know he’s feeling the same.

You’ve spent an entire week perfecting the dance and each night the touches linger a little longer than before. You have also been seeing him around the house a little more and this time he’s not shying away from hanging out in your room on your bed talking about choreography—it’s not your fault if the subject would change throughout the night.

You just forgot how easy it was to talk with Yeonjun. He was a little sarcastic and mean but so were you and you hated that he could actually make you laugh.

“Alright everyone, this is Y/n, she’s helped me with the choreography and we’re about to show you the full dance right now,” Yeonjun said with a cocky grin as he pulled you into his side with his hand on your waist. You were trying to put space between you but he wasn’t letting that happen and he only smiled teasingly when you whined.

‘Is that his girlfriend?’

‘I thought he didn’t like dancing with partners.’

‘They seem so close, look at his smile.’

When the music began to play it was like you two were in your own world together. Yeonjun didn’t hesitate letting his hands touch your body when needed or get as close to you as the choreography intended. It was very obvious to everyone who watched that he was close to you in some way to have this much chemistry when you danced.

Also, the way he looked at you when the two of you were face to face was with a jaded breath that made him smile when you did the next move. By the end of the dance an eruption of cheers filled the dance rooms as you smiled cheerfully at him for completing it.

To be honest, Yeonjun wasn’t listening to what was happening around him. Instead he was more focused on keeping you close to him as everyone talked around him with music blaring loud enough to create a buzz. His attention was more on not letting you slip away as he found himself saying, “One kiss?”

Your eyes bulged in surprise as a hand of yours came up to his chest trying to push back gently even with his arms snug around your waist. You looked around the room, “Not with everyone here.”

He smirked as he looked down at you with a dazed look, “That’s not a no.”

This is what happens between you two. Despite arguing and avoiding each other, any time the opportunity comes you just can’t seem to help from wanting to touch again. Yeonjun was feeling extra bold right now because he always enjoys how good your body feels against his when you dance. It makes him want to relive whatever you had two years ago. When he called for a short break before they went back to practicing he didn’t know it was because he really wanted you to himself right now.

He licked his lips, “Just one kiss, Y/n.”

“Why do you want a kiss so bad?” You asked jokingly as you looked at him curiously. You arched a brow as he shrugged his shoulders, still moving you along his body acting like he doesn’t have a class full of dancers to teach at the moment.

“I like kissing—“ Yeonjun’s words immediately died down when he felt your soft lips press a light kiss on his neck as you stood on your tiptoes to reach up. He was taken off guard at the first feel of your tongue licking along his neck before closing your mouth in a kiss and his hold on you tightened. Just as he was getting ready to tilt your chin up and connect your lips with his, you pulled back, already trying to get away from him.

Yeonjun wrapped a hand around your wrist keeping you from moving across the room to the speaker, “That’s it?”

“Breaks over,” You tilted your head to the side giving him a look he understood and let you go. He gets it, it’s sudden and the way the two of you had acted wasn’t just something that can be forgotten through a dance. He just can’t help that these last moments where he’s been with you for practice, at home, and now are making him want you all over again.

He watched you go as he ran his fingers through his hair was an exasperated sigh, “Alright! Who’s ready to start practice?”

His eyes couldn’t drift away from you as you stood a few feet away from him and he’s positive everyone can note how he had his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. He wasn’t even hiding the fact that he was falling for you again.

At the end of practice he was feeling exhausted and a bit worked up. The amount of times he got to feel you tonight under the guise of dance practice was enough to make his numbers feel numb and one again he found himself going to you. You knelt down by your dance bag in front of the large mirrors and he came up next to you making you look up.

“I know what you’re thinking, Junnie,” the nickname slid off your lips as you packed your things, “And it’s not a good idea.”

“One kiss won’t change anything,” Yeonjun persisted as he leaned against the mirrored wall. You looked at him with an arched brow and he knew you caught his bluff and it made him smile more, “I swear.”

“That’s what we said last time and then what happened?” You asked standing up in front of him, “Someone made assumptions and then flipped out on me.”

He rolled his eyes at the reminder, “And how long ago was that?”

“Pretty sure a few weeks ago you were mad about it,” you teased even as you traced a finger down his chest, “So do you think it’s a good idea to do it again?”

“I do,” Yeonjun said, letting his hand go down to your hip, “And I know you want to kiss me too.”

You sighed in thought as you looked up at him and he didn’t tear his gaze away. All it took was the warmth of your hand finding his jaw for him to dip his head down and let your lips brush against each other gently. When you didn’t immediately pull away, he took action and fully pressed his mouth to yours in a soft kiss.

Yeonjun didn’t hesitate to let both hands slide down your hips toward your back and pulled you more flush against him leaving no room between your wanton bodies as your tongue slipped past his lips meeting his softly. Your arms wrapped around his neck trying to pull yourself up to kiss him better and he eagerly granted you more access. It was a sight to be seen, the way his jaw moved so effortlessly, tongue kissing you.

There was a small pause, pulling away to catch your breaths and this should have been a moment to reflect. You both knew what this could possibly mean for you two. It was like starting all over from when you first started hooking up and how easy it was for you to go together. The problem is that you two aren’t good at communicating when it didn’t have to do with sex. The thing is, the two of you are making out in the dance practice room where there were no windows or cameras and the only thing you can see is your reflections in the mirrored walls.

“We’ve never done it in a practice room,” Yeonjun said clearly reading your mind and it made you whine into his chest.

“Yeonjun…” you want to do this with him again but you live together now. That brings a whole different set of problems for you and the people you’re living with if you start messing around again. Yeonjun knew this too but frankly, he didn’t care. He wanted you.

Despite your clear hesitation, it didn’t stop you from bringing him back into a kiss as your back pressed into the wall of mirrors with him in front of you. He smiled into the kiss as he deepened it, dipping his head low and trapping you between his arms. He kissed down your neck, sucking softly on a spot he was very familiar with and knew it would have your body writhing against him. Your hands tugged on his shirt rushing him but he was not complaining. You both were eager to get your hands on each other after so long.

He yanked it off feeling your hands fly to his belt loop but he stopped you again. He was slightly out of breath as he spoke, "Y/n..."

You looked at him waiting to see what he had to say but I stead he traced his hands down your sides as he dropped down to his knees making your lips part in surprise. He was quick in yanking down your tiny shorts and kissing whatever part of your body that was exposed to his needy gaze. He pulled your underwear down too and didn’t hide the way he licked his lips at the sight before him.

Yeonjun wasn’t moving and it was making you feel a bit shy so you found yourself with your hand in his hair and pulling it. He looked up at you with lust blown eyes and his pretty lips parted in a gasp at the pull making you look away from his strong gaze, “Are you just going to keep staring?”

A smile appeared on his face as his soft hands pinched your hips dragging your lower half closer, he motioned for you to spread your legs further and as you did that he leaned even lower, eyes focused on your wet pussy now that he can see it better, “This isn’t just from right now is it?”

As he said that he let one of his hands slide over your pelvis and a finger dip between your folds watching the silky strings of arousal coat it. You huffed in annoyance, “It’s your fault for being so fucking touchy this entire practice.”

With a soft hum, he said, “Let me take the blame then.”

His mouth closed over the stiffened clit so suddenly that it drew a gasp from your lips and your head to tip back against the mirror. Yeonjun is never the one to take things slow, usually liking the element of surprise in catching you off guard by his forward movements. Your hands tugged on his hair with every languid move of his tongue over your wet folds, quite literally lapping up your slick like he was thirsty for more and you had no doubt in your mind that’s exactly what this was. It’s been two years and yet you’re still his favorite pussy to eat and he just can’t get enough.He was lost in his own world, hips rutting into nothing as his tongue worked to taste your raw essence and flick at your clue just the way he knew you liked. He knew how to read your body better than anyone else and it should be a crime that the two of you were too annoyed with each other to do this when you moved in together.

His thick tongue never once slowed down its flicking between your folds and not long after he was pushing it into your warm hole. He was quite literally tongue fucking you with his eyes on you the entire time trying to fish out the perfect reactions. With an annoyed roll of his eyes he reached up with a hand to pinch at your shirt signaling for you to take it off and you did just that. You skipped it off letting it fall over your bag and took the initiative to remove your bra too and it had him fucking you with his tongue with more vigor.

You were in euphoria with moans tumbling out of your soft lips and his mouth slobbering all over your cunt made you want to fuck back into his face. He swirled over your sensitive bud lathering it in his own drool as he brought a hand up your body to feel up your breasts making you moan a little louder than intended. It only made the hand on your tits rougher as your hips began to meet the wave of his head with each thrust of his tongue into your pussy.

"Yeonjun—" you moaned softly, hands in his soft hair keeping him in place.

He licked his lips as he pulled back, “You gotta keep it down, baby, you don’t want someone walking in on us, do you?”

“Let them,” You rolled your eyes, and placed a hand over his head and led him back down to your pussy. Too distracted by the thought of making you cum on his tongue and your eagerness for the same, he did just that. He focused on your clit, tongue flattening over it and shaking his head from side to side feeling your walls tighten, repeating the action over and over again. He felt it too, he knew your body’s responses and he knew you were close. All it took was a little suck on your pretty clit for your release to hit you. It didn’t slow down his ministrations as he continued to lick up your climax despite your legs shaking and your hand searching for something to hold onto as you moaned wantonly. Your slick began to drip down his chin but he didn’t stop until there was nothing left to drink, breathing heavy as he swallowed everything you gave him.

When you had enough you yanked his head back by the hair and looked at his fucked out expression just from eating you out.

With weak legs you slowly made yourself to the floor and Yeonjun made room for you only to direct you to lay down. You smacked your lips in annoyance, “Why am I the only one naked?”

“Because you haven’t taken this off me,” he said with a teasing smile and you sat up to pull his shirt off.

You made his breath hitch you quickly yanked on his pants nearly making him stumble into as you lowered them down. His muscles tended at your toughness and helped you kick them off before releasing a soft whine as he tried leaning down to kiss you again. You met him halfway, a messy tongue kiss mixed with the taste of your arousal and spit. With him distracted by your makeout you slowly began pushing him back until he got the hint and laid down on the cold dance floor with you over him.

His eyes fell shut feeling your lips kiss down the expanse of his neck to his pretty collarbone and down his chest. Your hand was quicker than your lips at trailing down his body and soon he felt it slide over his hardening member with a couple experimental strokes, his mouth drawn open in a silent moan. He released a shaky breath as your face closer to his tip, licking it gently, teasing him. You flatten your tongue on the underside of his cock, licking along his base to his tip stopping at his head to let a pool of spit spill past your lips and onto his dick. Without further thought, you swallowed more of his length past your lips and watched his eyes scrunch closed in pleasure.

“So good,” he said licking his plump lips and bit down hard to fight back a loud groan when you held him at his base and began to bob your head along his length with a good pace. You had your other hand on his thigh, nails digging in just slightly because it made his cock twitch every time and you jerked off what didn’t fit in your mouth.

Yeonjun watched the way his cock disappeared into your mouth with a slack jaw as if he still can’t believe you make him feel this good every time you go down on him. It was embarrassing how quick you always brought him to orgasm.

You took steady breaths through your nose doing your best to relax your throat and flatten your tongue. His head fell back with a pleasured sigh when he felt you begin to take heavier breaths sliding down his length until his tip hit the back of your throat. You roughly swallow around him, suppressing a gag as you resume to deep throat him, spit bubbles gathering around his length.

"Oh fuck," he groaned, moans were pouring out of his mouth, no longer caring if anyone in another room heard, “I’m close. Get on top.”

It took you a minute to move off and every second you stayed sucking his cock was another annoyed moment that passed him trying to get you off. With a pop of your mouth, you quickly pulled off trying to catch you breath as he sat up and brought his mouth to yours, “Ride me, you know I love it when you’re on top.”

You were well aware that there was no chance he had a condom on him but this wasn’t the first time you have had unprotected sex and honestly, it probably won’t be the last. That’s the only reason why you didn’t hesitate to lead him back to lay down as you straddle his hips, eyes on his stiff cock that pointed up.

Yeonjun’s hands lightly trailed your sides, licking his lips as he stared down at where your drenched pussy hovered over his dick and he felt a shiver of anticipation run down his spine. With a hand on his base to keep himself pointed up, he watched as you lined yourself up with him and took his head in. He quickly looked at you as your mouth drew open, sinking down on his length, your body not a stranger to his size, relaxed around him.

"Yeonjun," you whined at the first expert roll of his hips, digging his cock a little further into your walls once he knew you were ready and very needy to feel him. He didn’t start off slow either, he guided your hips to ride him roughly the way he knew you both liked and when you nearly fell forward only using your hands to hold yourself up, he met you halfway and went straight for your breasts. He nipped at the bud playing with it as he looked up at you to the best of his ability.

Yeonjun couldn’t help it, you were in a room full of mirrors and he just couldn’t help it. He found his eyes straying toward the closest mirror and they rolled at the sight. Your back was arched like a kittens, his hands groping handfuls of your ass and mouth hungrily sucking on your nipples knowing how much you liked it. Your hair fell around him and you just looked so pretty that he knew he wouldn’t last.

“Ugh,” you groaned when the pace had slowed by him being distracted staring at your reflection and with a light shove off him he let go only to let you sit up again. You looked over at the mirror as you sat up in a right angle and adjusting your legs to help you better, you raised your hips fully before dropping back down onto his length with a little grind.

“Fuck,” he growled, hand moving off your ass and slapping it just so he could watch the way it jiggled when you rode him, "Just like that, look at this slutty body. Fuck, I love it.”

“Did you miss it?” You asked with arrogance at the lustful, hungry gaze he looked at you with and as if to push him more for an answer you leaned forward, breasts in his face and never stopping your bouncing hips. He nodded almost submissively before his brows knitted together in concentration and fucked you back, hard.

Before you could react, Yeonjun was flipping you onto your back hitting the dance floor and taking the lead to stuff you full of cock. You sighed as you wrapped your hands around his neck stopping him from being to move back as he fucked you, “I’m close.”

“Already?” He teased, “Damn, you must’ve missed me too.”

“Shut up,” you moaned against his lips, dragging him into a kiss. Yeonjun was a slim guy yet out of everyone you’ve been with he’s the one who knows how to make you cum and he’s cocky about it too.

“No,” He practically giggled, “My dick making your little pussy feel good?”

His eyes locked on yours as he felt your warm walls begin to tighten around him. A familiar ring of nerves clenching around his member as it sucked him into your folds. He wasn't going to last much longer either, “Your pussy is so damn good, every time, I can never get enough.”

His thrusted slower but still rough, chasing his own high with the sponginess of your spent walls that hugged his stiff dick deliciously, enough to make his lips dry. You didn’t have to give him a warning when he knew his words were getting to you and he finally forced you to look away from the mirror and up at him, “Cum.”

A wave seemed to wash over you, his final words to put you over the edge and just like that, you were letting go pulling him into a kiss to swallow your loud moan.

Yeonjun would have liked to help you through your orgasm but it had been so long since he last had you and still hard from your mouth on his cock, he needed to cut now. He pulled out quickly and not finding where to release he came straight on your stomach in thick, warm spurts with heavy pants. He looked down at the mess he made and smiled despite the way you smacked your lips in annoyance, “Seriously?”

“Would you rather it have been inside you?” Yeonjun asked as he sat back to look at the mess he made of you, licking his lips. A smirk came to his face at the sudden idea, “Don’t worry I’ll clean you up.”

“Yeonju—“ you hissed at the sudden feeling of his tongue licking his own release off your stomach and he didn’t seem to mind it one bit.

“What? It’s mine,” Yeonjun said as he kissed along your body before moving down between your legs to clean up your release too, “All of this is mine, you too.”

“Since when?” You asked as you relaxed. You were teasing him and he just smiled, “Since you decided to dance with me again. And no more misunderstandings, I want you to be mine Y/n, just mine. So let’s work on us this time.”

Things between you two were still kept private. There wasn’t any specific reason for it because some of your friends knew but you two still weren’t completely out with it. You were testing it out first and with your focus being on the summer dance exhibition you had, there was no push to continue to prove you were together now. Yeonjun was the perfect partner and after the exhibition the two of you were finally able to relax.

Taehyun was the one who asked the four of you housemates to go out. Mira was finally done with her intense dead week of exams and she has about two weeks off before her summer courses so it was the perfect time for you to all go out. Living with Yeonjun and dating him has been a bittersweet experience, bitter in the beginning when you were mad at each other, and sweet now where he spends most nights in your room or you in his.

Right now Yeonjun feels content with his relationship with you and as he watched you dance with Mira out on the dance floor all he can think about is how perfect you are for him. He had a feeling that dancing with you would bring the two of you together again and he would be lying if he said that it’s not what he had hoped for in the back of his mind when you agreed to dance Shoong! with him. He smirked at the reminder of the way your body dances with his and he’s wondering if tonight he could ask for a private show again in the practice room. You’ve sworn off public sex but he knows you too well to think you’re serious about it.

“I hate couples,” Taehyun rolled his eyes as he watched Yeonjun’s loving smile watching you dance. Feeling his eyes on him, you pulled away from Mira and motioned with your hand that the two of you would be going to the bar for more drinks. With a nod of his head he watched the two of you leave while he stayed back with Taehyun.

“Hey.”

A deep voice came up next to you as you and Mira got to the bar and at first you didn’t realize he was talking to you until you felt a hand on your lower back that immediately startled you. You turned to look at who it was when he spoke up, “I’ve been watching you dance all night an—“

“Why are you touching me?” You asked loud enough for Mira to hear and moved his hand off. The stranger still smiled, “Sorry, I just wanted to get your attention. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

“I hope so.”

You turned watching Yeonjun walk over to you and without sparing a glance, his arms wrapped around your waist, “She’s taken.”

Nobody but Taehyun saw the way Mira’s jaw dropped at the declaration and she turned to him immediately, “Since when?”

Taehyun threw his arm over her shoulders, “You’ve missed a lot, Mira.”

“Are they dating? How did I not know?” Mira asked him but she knew why. She spent all her free time with her boyfriend Kai or getting home late that she didn’t see when Yeonjun would sneak into your room or you in his. As far as she knew the two of you didn’t like each other so when did it change to this?

You didn’t say anything in response as Yeonjun hugged you from behind, all you did was turn his jaw toward you and without pulling his gaze away from the guy, he let you kiss him on the lips.

You were finally Yeonjun’s little dancer again and if another guy thinks he’s gonna change that then he has to laugh. He’s not going to get jealous and misunderstand you two again. You made it official and yes, he might get jealous but this time it’s because you’re his and not because he’s too scared to ask if you are.

::.

okay YALL this is a REUPLOAD. I’m not a dancer so bare with me 😭

[vernons-girl]

more | lee jihoon (woozi)

angst to fluff, suggestive?, wc:1.3k

Once again you found yourself sitting on the couch at the back of Jihoon's studio just browsing through mindless youtube videos just to get to spend some time with him.k

He was really busy because his activities with the group so he barely had any time for you, so for the two of you to be together you had to tag along with him during his late night studio escapades. It wasn’t the most romantic, that is for sure, but that’s all you could ask for knowing how hard he was trying to make everything right.

But to him it wasn’t enough. Nothing was ever enough for him. He wanted to do better, he wanted to do more, he didn’t feel like he was enough, his mind was clouded with doubt and he couldn’t help but think that you deserved better than this, that you deserved better than him.

Those thoughts were racing through his head over and over and it became impossible for him to focus on anything else.

He slowly pushed his chair back away from his desk and turned his attention to you. You looked so pretty without even trying and he asked himself how did he got so lucky for a solid minute before focusing on your sitting form. You were wearing baggy comfy clothes, including one of his hoodie that he let you borrow earlier because you were cold, your hair was in its natural state, a bit messy yet beautiful to him, a soft smile would brighten your bare face every few minutes, and with all this he still looked at you like you were the 8th wonder of the world. And in fact, you were more than this, you were his world, everything gravited around you and he lived for this feeling.

Suddenly his thoughts were cut by a sneeze coming from you.

“Bless you” he said with a chuckle.

“Thank you” you said shyly, the noise you made was definitely not as soft as you wished it was but what can you do about it, you’re still human.

“You doing okay over here?” you asked full of concern. If you were being a hundred percent honest, you were kind of worried about your boyfriend, he looked off and you couldn’t help but think you did something wrong or that you maybe didn’t do anything and that it was a problem.

“Everything’s alright love” he told you with a light nod and his signature smile.

But it wasn’t fooling you, you put your computer aside and got up to slowly make your way closer to him. You came to a stop right in front of him and gently cupped his face in your palms.

“Come on baby, tell me what’s going through that smart head of yours”, he relaxed into your touch, you always had this effect on him and he could not explain how you did it but, anytime you would lay your hand on him, he would completely melt, dropping his guard and allowing himself to be vulnerable. The fact that he only acts like this with you made the act so intimate for you two, it never failed to show how much he trusts you.

“Are you happy?” he asked looking up at your face

“Of course I am! Why wouldn’t I?

- I mean with me. Are you happy with me?” his gaze dropped to the floor after his question, too scared to look at your reactions, afraid of the emotion that could be painted in your face, as if all the stars he saw in your eyes would disappear before you could break his heart.

“Jihoon? What’s wrong? you asked with worry in your voice

-Please tell me you’re not unhappy with me..

- Look at me baby, please” you pleaded your lover, trying to tilt his face toward yours to get a look at his features. Once he did look up, all you saw was doubt written all over his face.

“What’s up with all those doubts? you questioned

-Listen I know I’ve been busy these past few weeks and we did not get the chance to spend that much time together and I don’t want you to think that I gave up on you, I did not gave up on us Y/N” his voice was deep but soft, almost fading away in the air as soon as the words left his mouth.

You brought yourself closer to him and took a sit right across his lap, brushing his hair out of his face before placing a kiss on the tip of his nose.

“I know Jihon, I know.” and it was all you said before kissing him passionately.

Between you and Jihoon, love language was not limited to words and showing your love and affection for each other through acts was important because this was how you two worked the best, it was your thing, especially when you needed to chase your worries and insecurities away.

Sometimes between you and Jihoon, no words were needed.

At first taken aback by your action, Jihoon stayed still, appreciating the feeling of your lips against his. No matter what they always felt soft and plushy soft pressing on his own.

Once he regained control of himself a few seconds after he gently placed one hand on one of your thigh while the other rested at the back of your neck as he was finally returning the kiss.

Kissing him always felt like the first time. You always thought that even after years of dating your stomach will still be filled with butterflies, that you would never stop discovering the faint smell of musk lingering on his clothes. You would always feel that spark within you, discovering the feeling of his lips for the first time every time.

His kisses were soft, loving, passionate. He never needed to be rough to express the strength of his emotions.

He slowly pulled away so you two could take a breath, pressing your forehead together you felt the soft air coming from his lips tickling your own which drew a small smile your lips before he started to place sloppy kisses along your jaw, coming down to your neck.

Peppering the area with light, quick kisses he then started to suck softly on it, not necessarily leaving any mark, just wanting you to enjoy the sensation it was giving you. He sure knew what to do with those lips as your breath started to quicken, sounds that could be mistaken as moans coming out of your lips.

He pulled his lips away from your neck and made his way back to yours. His lips were warm and soft. They parted slightly, allowing your tongue to slip inside. The hand that was previously resting on your thigh was now softly massaging the area while the other went from the back of your neck to your jawline so he could take control of the kiss. It was not a question of power here, he just wanted to show you everything he was feeling and for that he needed you to just receive all he had to give.

His thumb was now rubbing small circles on your cheek as he slowed down his pace, only brushing his tongue against your lips every now and then, focusing on exclusively pressing his lips against your for loving lingering kisses. His other hand stroking your leg went up the middle of your back as he finally pulled you close to him for a tight hug.

Soft pants could be heard coming from both of you as you held onto each other for dear life.

Jihoon broke the silence :

“I love you more than anything in this universe, you know that right?” he asked, looking for reassurance in your answer.

You pulled back to look at him, letting your loving gaze rest on his you said :

“Of course I do, and I love you too, more than words can express.”

Yeah sometimes no words were needed between you two because all you needed was each other, nothing more.

[faefictions]

Snow in Indiana

Eddie Munson x Reader

5.7k words

Eddie has spent the past decade thinking about the pen pal he lost touch with, but fate has a funny way of bringing people back together when they need it most

Warnings: family death (unedited bc it is 3am and I have been working on this for hours)

“Dear Eddie, 

Does it Snow in Indiana?” 

He had read the beginning of the note hundreds of times by now. He had memorized how each individual letter had been written and slightly smudged. He knew the entire contents of the letter by heart, but that never stopped him from coming back to it from time to time. 

“My grandma hasn’t told me much about Hawkins, just that it’s just like home. Except it’s on the other side of the country. Grandma likes the snow, so I hope you say yes.” 

Something about the innocent nature of your writing calmed him down when things got rough. He had received the note in the middle of August at the beginning of 6th grade. Your grandmother had just moved across the country, and she just so happened to be the Librarian at Eddie’s new middle school. She had told both of you that the other could use a friend, even if you were thousands of miles apart. She also insisted that being pen pals would improve both of your lackluster reading and writing skills. She meant well. 

“Can I tell you the truth? I didn’t want to write you a letter when grandma called and told me I should. My teachers say I’m not good at writing anyway. But Grandma also said maybe you and I could be friends. And I think I would like that.” 

Some of your words had been crossed out with pen, either from misspellings or second thoughts on phrasing. Eddie had stared at the paper for so long that he even knew what was underneath those scribbles. 

When the snow started coming down each winter, it was hard for him to not want to keep the letter on him at all times. The opening line of your first letter to him always floated into his head with the first snowflakes. 

He had written you back to assure you that it does snow in Indiana, that he too had troubles with pleasing his teachers with his school work, and of course, that he too would like to be friends. 

That was over 10 years ago now. He had never met you, never heard your voice, never learned what you looked like (besides the poorly drawn picture you had included for him one time) but you had been a part of him for his middle school years. 

The letters started slowing down in the 8th grade. You had told him you were nervous for high school, that you’d heard that kids were meaner there. The last letter he had sent you was in the summer before both of your freshman years. He hated that he couldn’t remember what he had said, what his last words to you were. All he knew was that he wished you luck for your first day. 

Then the letters stopped completely. After months of checking mailboxes impatiently, he got the hint and gave up. 

At the age of 24, he wishes he sent another letter. He wishes he got some closure on why you stopped writing. He had always wondered if it had been something he had said, or maybe you had just found new friends in high school and decided you didn’t need him anymore. 

He was embarrassed to admit that it was his first heartbreak. So he refused to admit it even happened to anyone he knew now. 

He tucked the old letter in his pocket as another patron entered the diner. He had picked up a second job as the night cook in hopes of saving up enough to to move out of the trailer with Wayne. It had been months of helping Wayne with bills now, and he was just barely starting to see the hard work pay off in his savings account. 

He peeked out the pass through window to get a glimpse of the first customer they’d had in the last hour and a half. The snow had been coming down hard, and it was preventing the already few people who would be coming in to the diner at this hour from showing up. He wasn’t surprised to see the young woman, somewhere around his age, follow the waitress quickly to the booth in the corner and sit down. He was, however, surprised to see no new car in the small lot outside. He hadn’t seen headlights arrive or depart to drop her off. The snow that has accumulated on her hair, even thought it has been covered with a hood, was making him think she had walked a distance to get here. If the counter hadn’t been blocking his view, he would have seen the bottom of her pants completely soaked through from the snow piled outside to confirm his suspicion. 

“Can you start on a stack of pancakes, Ed?”

He nodded at the waitress, Judy, who wasn’t usually one to whisper like she was now. She rushed off to the phone in the back office, which did nothing but pique the interest in Eddie’s under stimulated brain. 

Curiosity got the best of him, so he made his way out of the kitchen quickly, grabbed a mug from the counter and the full coffee pot, and made his way over the girl in the corner. 

You had been staring out the window, and Eddie recognized the look as he approached. You were doing your best to hold yourself together. He was used to this kind of customer at this time of night. People who really needed the company, who had nowhere else to go, often found their way here after midnight. But there was something different about you, and it wasn’t just that he had never seen you around town. No matter how hurt he could tell you were inside, you did your best to keep up a facade when you saw him approaching. 

“Coffee?” he offered, less poised than he had intended.

“Please,” you smiled up at him as he set down the mug and poured. He allowed himself to take you in, and that’s when he saw the snow still caked on to your sneakers, and the damp cloth stretching from the hem above your ankle nearly up to your knees. There was snow yet to melt from head to toe, and you were trying your best not to shake from the cold. 

“You walk here?” He tried to make light conversation as he chuckled, but you weren’t as chipper. 

“My car broke down about a mile up the road. Walking was my only option,” You tried to keep the smile on your face, but Eddie saw the look, almost like a shunned child. As if you were embarrassed by what you had done, preparing for the lecture or consequence coming your way. 

Before he could say anything, Judy returned from the back office. 

“Tow truck won’t be running ’til morning, darlin’. But I left a message telling them you’d call first thing,” Judy gave you a halfhearted smile, before turning to Eddie, “Where’s that stack I told you to start on?” 

“Right, sorry,” he quickly excused himself back to the kitchen, but did his best to listen for the conversation you were having on the other side of the room. 

“Where are you staying tonight? I can try to get you a ride there.” 

“My grandma’s house, well it used to be I guess. I think it’s just a few more miles into town, I’m not a hundred percent sure though, I’ve never been out here.” 

“Used to be your grandma’s house?”

“Yeah, she, uhm… passed away not long ago. Hard to own something six feet under,” you tried to joke, but failed to make either of you laugh, “Funeral service is next week, I came early to pack up her things. Guess I chose the wrong day to drive in though.” 

“I’d say. Well let me see what I can do, do you have the address?” 

“Yeah, it’s right…” you trailed off as you checked your pocket, slowly coming to realize that you had left the torn piece of paper with the address written on it on your passenger seat, right on top of the map you were struggling to follow in the heavy snow. “Guess I left it in the car.” 

Just as the realization was threatening to break you, Eddie came and set a fresh stack of 3 pancakes in front of you. 

“You eat up, it’s on the house. And let me know if you remember any of that address,” Judy smiled at you and walked into the back before you could refuse the free pancakes.

Eddie watched you for the next hour through the pass through window. No other customers came in, so he didn’t exactly have anything better to do. It was nearing 4 am, the end of Eddie’s shift. He had cleaned his station in the kitchen faster than he ever had and made his way out to your table to check on your before he left. 

“Any luck with that address?”

“Don’t think I’d remember it with a gun to my head. I might as well walk back and grab it.” 

“Not a chance. My shift is over in a few minutes. Why don’t I drive you back to your car, you can grab it, and I can get you there.”

“I couldn’t possibly-“

“No need to be polite. You’ve had a rough enough night, let’s just get you home.”

You didn’t correct his phrasing. This was the furthest you had ever been from home, and you were sure as hell feeling that in this strange diner with barely a concept of where you were. The snow falling outside only exacerbated your feeling of being out of place. 

Eddie rushed to the back to grab his belongings and wish Judy a good night, letting her know he was going to get you out of there, before he made his way back out to you. You had brought the hood of your sweatshirt back up, and were staring out at the snow silently. He approached cautiously and gently spoke, “Let’s get out of here,” before guiding you through the door. 

“I’m Eddie, by the way. Sorry I didn’t properly introduce myself earlier.” 

You paused at his name, but he was too busy trying to find his van through the wall of snow to notice. 

“I’m y/n, thanks again for helping. You and Judy are both angels.” 

He smiled at your name for a moment, but kicked the idea from his mind. 

Both of you thought of the letters you had sent all those years ago, unaware that the person climbing into the same car as you was in fact the person you were reminiscing on. 

Eddie shook the snow out of his hair like a wet dog before starting the van. 

“Left out of the lot?” 

“Yeah,” you smiled. 

“You know, I’ve helped fix up a few cars in my day. I could take a look under the hood for you when we get there if you’d like.”

“You’re already helping enough, thank you though.”

“I really don’t mind. Can’t hurt just to take a look.” 

The glance and smile he shot you made your stomach do flips. In the low light of the passing, sparse streetlights, he looked incredibly handsome. Your mind wandered back to what you thought your Eddie looked like back in middle school. You had sent him a drawing of yourself, mostly as a joke since your drawing skills as a 12 year old weren’t amazing, but you were also trying to send him the message that you desperately wanted to know him better. Of course, when your grandmother had insisted you become pen pals with a strange boy, you weren’t too happy about the idea, but as time went on, the sound of a friend sounded too nice. You hadn’t had many of them in elementary school, and it concerned your family. But as your friendship with Eddie grew with each letter, you found yourself hoping for something, anything, more. Now, as an adult, you blame your adolescent brain for the silly crush. But that didn’t stop you from thinking about him from time to time, still wondering what he might be doing in that moment, or if he is happy. But most of all, you wondered if he missed you as much as you missed him. 

“You doing alright over there?” he asked you over the quiet metal playing over the speakers. He was playing it at about 1% of the volume he usually listened at, in an attempt to not scare you off just yet. 

“Yeah, just a long night,” you smiled back at him. He nearly assured you that you could be real with him, that he could tell that something more was bothering you, but he worried that would be coming on too strong. And before he could find a way to say it without sounding creepy, you pointed out your car on the side of the road with a sigh. 

It had only been a couple hours since you had left it, but it was nearly buried in the snow. 

“That’s a little more difficult to check out,” He chuckled as he pulled to the side of the road, lighting up your car with his headlights. 

“It’s fine, I’ll just go grab the address and we can get going,” you tried not to sigh as you opened the passenger door. 

“Wait a second,” Eddie reached for your hand before you could make it out of the car, “I’m fine with taking a look, and I can grab the address too. No need for you to get cold again.” 

“I already walked a mile in the snow earlier, I don't think a minute out there will kill me.”

“All the more reason for you to stay in here if you ask me.”

“Fine, but skip looking under the hood. I can call the tow truck when I wake up, it should be fine until then. Even if you could fix it with nothing, I don’t think I should be driving any more today.”

“Long trip?”

“Since 8 am. I really just want to get to sleep.”

“Deal,” he smiled again before stretching his hand out to you, “Keys?”

You reluctantly let him have the keys to go grab the paper, but not before trying to assure him you were capable of grabbing it yourself. You watched him as he rushed as fast as he could through the near foot of snow, grabbed the address, and rushed back to the van. 

“You didn’t lock it,” you stated, nervous to not to sound nagging. 

“I know, do you have a bag or something I can grab for you?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be, where is it?”

“It’s in the back seat on the passenger side. It’s a small black suitcase.”

“You got it, here, take this,” he handed you the torn paper with your grandmother’s previous address written on it in a handwriting that would have been familiar to him, had he glanced down at it. 

He ran back to grab your suitcase, and made sure to double check that the doors had locked after he shut them before he rushed back to the van. He threw your suitcase in the backseat before jumping back into the drivers seat. 

“I don’t know how you lasted a mile in that, I’m already freezing,” he complained, but his smile still refused to leave his face. 

“I’m sorry,” you tried yet again to apologize. 

“Don’t be,” he paused to look you in the eye to assure you that he wasn’t upset in the slightest, “Now let’s see that address. Hopefully I actually know where it is.”

You handed him the paper, and even in the low light, you couldn’t miss the way his face fell, even for a millisecond. He hadn’t seemed to stop smiling all night, but the second he saw the paper, it faltered for just a moment. 

“Everything ok?” 

He looked up at you, and you could tell he wanted to say something, but thought better of it. 

“Yeah, uhm, this is on the other side of town though. It’s a bit of a drive, is that ok?”

“I’d rather drive a little further than stay in my car tonight. So yeah, it’s fine,” you giggled, relieved that he didn’t seem angry or annoyed with you like you thought. 

But he had seen the handwriting. He would know it anywhere, yet he still wouldn’t let himself get caught up in the coincidences. You were just a girl with similar handwriting, and the same name. You weren’t his y/n. He could never be so lucky. 

“So, what brings you to town?” he asked after a moment of driving. 

“It isn’t the happiest story, and I don’t want to be a bummer.” 

“I’m nosey, and that does nothing to curb my interest,” he joked. He just needed to prod, he needed to know if he was being crazy. 

“My grandma passed… about a week ago now. Her funeral is next week, but someone needed to clean up her house for the service, and no one else wanted to make the drive out.” 

“Do you have any other family in the area to help out?”

“No, she only had 2 sons. My dad and my uncle, and they’re both back west. She moved here, like, 12 years ago now I think. Maybe 13.” 

Just another coincidence. He’s not this lucky. 

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

You looked at him out of the corner of your eyes. You hadn’t heard that yet. Just stressed adults complaining about how traveling in the winter was too much of a hassle. Hearing those words, from a near stranger no less, was enough to make you tear up. And Eddie could hear that in your voice when you thanked him, but he chose not to comment on it. 

“So,” you began after a moment of awkward silence, “How long have you lived in Hawkins?”

“My whole life.”

“Do you like it here?”

“Uh… It has its moments,” he tried his best to hide his discontent with the town. If it weren’t for his uncle, his band, and his small group of friends, he would have ran for the hills by now. He was too attached to them to run… and also lacking the funds to do so. 

“That good huh?” you laughed. 

“Hate to sound like an ass, but there are definitely plenty of cons that outweigh the pros for me half the time. But that’s not everyone’s experience.”

“Grandma seemed to like it, but she also liked it back home, and it’s no cake walk back there.” 

You almost spat the end of your sentence, and although it wasn’t spoken explicitly, Eddie understood. 

“Sorry, I don’t mean to keep bringing the conversation down. It’s just been a really long week.”

“I believe it,” He paused, “So how long are you going to be staying in town then?”

“I have no idea. Rumor is Grandma left me the house. And even if she did…. I’m sorry, I’ve been awake for almost 24 hours now, and driving for over 15 of them. I know you really don’t need to hear any of this.” 

You started to make your body as small as possible, hyper aware of how loudly you had been speaking, and how riled up you were getting. Your father would have hated to see it. But not Eddie. 

“No, keep going. Like I said, I’m nosey, and it sounds like you could use someone to talk to about this.” 

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” he agreed nonchalantly, unaware how much it meant to you. 

“My grandma and I were really close before she moved. She didn’t get along with either of her sons, but she was the world to me as a kid. And my dad put up no effort to even reach out to her in the past decade, but he expects all of her stuff to be left to him, and my uncle wants the same. But my mom told me that one of them had reason to believe that she left it all to me. I don’t even know where they heard it, and don’t get me wrong, I’m not ungrateful, I promise. I just don’t know what to do about the two grown men that she apparently left out of the will if that’s true, and how mad they’re going to be at me.” 

“They wouldn’t be mad at you.” 

“You don’t know my dad,” you scoffed. You knew damn well that the man wasn’t afraid of throwing a tantrum, especially if it came to money. And he wouldn’t care if you were the one getting hurt in the process. 

“What would they have to be mad at you for though? For your Grandma loving you enough to leave you something to start your life on? How is that your fault?”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s my fault, they just care that they get their share. If it’s left to me, I might as well just divvy it up before they say anything.”

“But that’s not what you want, is it?”

“I just don’t want to have any issue with them.” 

“I’m sorry, that’s not fair to you.” 

“You really need to stop being so nice, you’re going to make me cry,” you chuckled, genuinely fighting back the tears as you spoke. 

“Sorry,” he chuckled back. He took a subject before continuing. “Have you seen the house? Like have you ever visited?”

“No, actually. Who knows, maybe it’s a real fixer upper and I’d be better off passing it on to my uncle,” you giggled, and that put the smile back on Eddie’s face. 

“If I didn’t mess up the address, it should just be in this next neighborhood.”

You kept saying that all you wanted was to get some rest after your long day, but now that you were talking to Eddie, you didn’t want the drive to end. The disappointment hit you like a rock as he pulled into the driveway of your grandmothers old house, but the feeling quickly turned to something else as you looked out the window to see the beautiful 2 story house with large trees on either side. 

“So much for the fixer upper theory,” Eddie said with a whistle, but you were speechless. This was much more than you had been anticipating, much nicer than you had spent your younger years picturing every time you missed your grandma. 

“You ok?” he asked after a moment of silence. 

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, I was just taking it in,” you chuckled nervously, still staring at the house. 

“Why don’t we get you inside?” He said, reaching in the back for your suitcase. You put a hand gently on his arm to stop him, and he looked up to see your nearly empty stare, still on the building in front of you. 

“Can you give me just a minute? I’m sorry, I know it’s late.” 

“No, it’s fine… Are you ok?”

“Yeah…Yeah, It just,” you trailed off for a moment, “I hadn’t seen her in years. Had no idea what her house looked like, or what she looked like anymore. I got letters, I got calls, but… Part of all this didn’t feel as real. Going in there, that’s real.” 

“Want me to come in with you?”

“No, that’s fine. I just need a second.” 

“Have you ever lost anyone before?”

You didn’t answer, just shook your head as you moved your eyes from the house to him. 

“Let me walk you in. You shouldn’t be alone for that.” 

You looked back at the house for a moment, took a deep breath, and nodded your head. 

Eddie carried your suitcase through the front door, and you both kicked off your shoes before stepping on the carpet. You took a deep breath before reaching for the light switch. Eddie sensed your hesitation as your fingers hovered. He took the opportunity to grab the fingers of your other hand. It gave you enough courage to turn on the light in the entry way. 

The furniture was mostly unfamiliar. You could see a few pieces in the living room that you had remembered from your childhood, and the sense of nostalgia calmed you. Eddie let you walk ahead of him, letting go of your hand as you ventured further into the room. Slowly but surely, you made your way to a wall on the other side of the room. It was covered in pictures, new and old, of your grandma with family and friends. You recognized yourself in plenty of them, but the newer ones were the ones that you couldn’t stop looking at. She looked so much older that you had remembered, but still had the youthful glow to her that you had attributed to her mischievousness. No matter how old she got, how wrinkled her face grew, or how gray her had and gotten, you still recognized her. Part of your heart began to ache for not knowing her as she was before she passed. It had been so long. 

You felt Eddie approach you from behind, and you expect him to say something nice, or encouraging. But he didn’t. He was surprisingly quiet. You turned to make sure he was alright, but he didn’t seem fine. He was staring at one of the photos on the wall, and he looked like he was about to be sick.

“Are you ok, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Uh, yeah,” he replied, still white as a sheet as he tore his eyes from the photo to look at you. He barely shot you a half smile before looking back up at the pictures. You took a step back to stand next to him. 

“I just remembered that she worked at the middle school when she moved here. Did you know her?”

“Yeah.”

“…Did you like her?” you tried asking after waiting for him to say anything more. 

“Yeah, she introduced me to my best friend.”

“Me too,” you smiled at the memory of your old pen pal. 

“Someone back home?”

“No, actually. I probably shouldn’t refer to him as that still. We haven’t spoken in… years actually.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, finally peeling his eyes away from the photos on the wall. 

He should have said more, but he didn’t know what else to say. This was her. He was in shock. The girl he had spent the last decade wondering about had wandered into his diner. His thoughts were moving a mile a minute, he felt like he could physically hear them, and it was hard to focus on anything you had possibly said. But luckily, you weren’t saying much. 

He followed you like a ghost as you explored the first floor of the house. You were happy you had arrived before anyone else. You had the chance to see the house how she had left it, how she had lived in it. It gave you a sense of closure you weren’t going to get otherwise, it felt as if you were getting a sense of knowing her once again. You were caught up in it until you saw a clock on the wall, reading nearly 5 am. Realization hit you that you were keeping Eddie, and a sense of guilt washed over you. You turned to find him, with a bit of color returned to his face. 

“It’s really late, I’m sorry I’ve kept you. You can go home if you’d like. I’m sure you want to get some rest too after your shift.” 

He took a second, before asking, “Are you sure you’ll be alright?” And you hesitated before nodding. 

“Honestly, the roads are pretty bad out there. I could stay on the couch, help you figure out your car in the morning. How does that sound?”

He way have been a complete stranger just hours ago, but you really did feel like you could trust him. So you smiled and nodded. 

“I’ll go find some blankets for you,” you smiled before disappearing up the stairs. Eddie didn’t expect you to come back for a while. You were bound to find your grandmothers bedroom and need to look around for a while. He made his way back to the living room while he waited. He stared at the wall again, but not in shock this time. Now that he knew was 24 year old you looked like, he desperately want to see what 12 year old you looked like. He found a picture near the middle of the wall, of a young girl smiling at the camera. It was the only photo on the wall without your grandmother in it. She had your eyes, had your smile, but most importantly, she actually looked like the drawing he had received all those years ago. You weren’t as bad of an artist as you’d thought. Eddie tried not to grow emotional staring at the photo. He only tore his eyes away from the picture of younger you when he heard you making your way back down the stairs.

Before you could reach Eddie, you paused by the window next to the back door, blankets in hand. The snow coated the back yard, reflecting the light from the back porch into the sky. You began to tear up, just as Eddie approached to take the blankets from you. He saw one of the first tears fall down your cheek, and quickly, but gently put an arm around you. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just… Is this what it looks like every winter?” you asked, looking up at him with misty eyes. 

“For parts of it, yeah. Why?”

“Grandma loved the snow,” was all you could reply before looking back out at the yard. 

He contemplated it for a second, fought himself on whether or not this was the right moment to say it, but he couldn’t help himself. 

“I told you she’d like it here” 

A moment passed as you processed what he had said. You gasped quietly, quickly turning your head to face him. He looked nervous, as if he had just handed his heart to you on a platter, waiting to see if you would reject it. 

“Eddie?” you asked cautiously, and you both knew what the question really was. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, still nervous and unable to read what you were thinking. 

“You stopped writing,” was all you could get out before another tear dropped. 

“What?”

“Y-you stopped writing,” you repeated, beginning to choke on your breathes as you spoke. 

He nearly panicked as he tried to reply. 

“Y/n, w-what do you mean? I only stopped writing when you stopped replying.”

“Oh my god, it’s really you,” you couldn’t stop looking at him, another tear dropping down your cheek. Your exhaustion was exaggerating your emotions, but you may have felt the same regardless. You had waited 12 years for this moment. 

“Yeah. Why don’t we go sit down,” he smiled at you, before herding you towards the couch. 

“Y/n,” he spoke softly as he crouch in front of you, one hand resting on each of your knees as you sat on the couch, “What do you mean I stopped writing?”

“I sent you a letter, you never replied.”

“That’s impossible, I waiting for months to hear back from you. There’s no way I missed a letter from you.”

“No, I sent one, and I waited, but you never replied. You broke my heart Eds,” you quietly began to sob, filled with too many mixed emotions. 

Eddie quickly sat next to you on the couch and pulled you to his chest to comfort you the best he could, but he was still confused. He had checked his own mailbox, his neighbors mailboxes, other houses in town with the same street number as his trailer. This didn’t add up. He quietly shushed you as he thought. 

“What did the last letter say?” he asked as you began to calm down just slightly. He had half the collection of your letters memorized, but especially the first and last. He would know if he had read it if you described it. 

“It was before Freshman year, I told you how scared I was that all the kids were going to be mean. I was so afraid that I was going to get singled out for still having no friends, and I waited for months to hear back from you. But you never wrote back. You were my only friend, and you stopped writing.”

“No, sweetheart, I would never,” he sighed as his heart dropped. He got that letter, he replied to it. Which meant that she never got his last letter. Neither of them had stopped writing on purpose, they had both assumed the other had given up. But he had sent out one last letter that was unaccounted for.

“Sweetheart, can you look at me,” he gently guided you to look up at him, “I promise you, I wrote back. I don’t know what happened to it, but I never would have stopped writing like that. I thought you had just ignored my last letter.”

“You wrote,” you said quietly, and Eddie couldn’t tell if it was a question, or if you were trying to reassure yourself. 

“I did, I promise,” he whispered as he swept a tear off your cheek with his thumb. 

And though you still needed to know what happened to his letter, and you had had one of the longest days of your life, nothing mattered more to you in that moment than leaning in, slowly. You took a second, pausing right before reaching his lips so he could pull away if he wanted, but he didn’t. It was a quick kiss, but it was gentle and sweet. Eddie didn’t try to pull you in for another, but he didn’t want to part as you pulled away. 

It took him a second to open his eyes again, but when he did, he was smiling just as big as you. 

“You ok?” he asked for what must have been the hundredth time that night. But unlike every other time you had answered, this time you told him the truth. 

“I am now.”

(may or may not be already trying to figure out a part 2 for this, depending on if people like it <3 )

@embrace-themagic @fanficparker  @heartbeats-wildly @saturn-aka-six @calum-hoodwinked-me @peterplanet @mischiefmanaged49 @nicotine-sunshine820 @itsjusttor @emistrash @thenoddingbunny-blog @sovereignparker @raajali3 @eddielives1986 @eddieswifu @chickpeadumpsterfire @fluffybunnyu @panagiasikelia @canthavetoomuchchaos @whenshelanded @starlitlakes @witchwolflea @ali-r3n @g0thdraculaura @celestcies

[vraiao]

req from @violetb52 !

✰ . obsessive ex bf kaeya, manipulation, the accident is up to interpretation, gender neutral reader, there might be a part 2 depending on how well this does

your crazy ex-boyfriend finds out you were a bad accident, and imagine his surprise when you don't remember a single thing about your past together . . .

absolute psycho was the label that perfectly described your ex-boyfriend, kaeya. during your lengthy relationship, which you often wondered why you allowed to go on for so long, kaeya was nothing more than the worst. well, realistically, he was all but a bad boyfriend. he checked all of the boxes for a quality lover, but for you, he was much too.. clingy.

but hey, maybe you were overreacting. maybe some person out there would love to have a boyfriend who acts like he'll die when he's apart from them for too long. honestly, you couldn't tell if it was some serious anxiety attachment, or if he just had some screws loose.

whether it be five minutes or an hour, he hated it when you weren't at least in his line of sight. any longer than that, and you'd have to mentally prepare yourself for the hundreds of texts he'd somehow manage to send you within a few minutes. oh, and, you had to respond to every single one. if you didn't, the calls would start, and he might've even had to show up at whatever location you were at. because of course, he made you keep your location sharing on.

not only all of that, he was absolutely obsessed with you. to the point where it was just overbearing. when you were together, you couldn't get him off of you. he was constantly hugging you, kissing you, and just blatantly being all over you. whether or not the two of you were in public, he did not care. it was beyond suffocating.

when you broke up, he was an absolute mess. the day of, he begged you not to go. he repeatedly told you that he would, in his words, literally die without you, and that he didn't know how to carry on without you. you told him that he needed help, to which he responded that the only thing he needed was you. you really did feel bad for him in a way, but you didn't let up. refusing to put up with his behavior any longer, you just left.

for the next few days, he had been silent. which, in all honesty, shocked you and concerned you at the same time. you were glad that he wasn't bothering you, but you knew what he was capable of, and couldn't help but worry about what he might've been doing to himself. though, your peace was temporary, as it was only a matter of days before the messages started.

hundreds, almost thousands of texts daily, ranging from begging you to come back to him to acting like everything was fine and telling you things about his day and such. one night, as you drifted off to sleep, you swore to yourself that you were going to block him if you got one more text from him. though, the next morning, nothing. and all day and the days after that, nothing. it was odd, and again, you were just a little concerned, but you shrugged it off. you were happy that he finally stopped bothering you, and decided not to care about what he was doing.

many a moon later, you had, in all honesty, completely forgotten about him. but he most certainly did not forget about you. you were his waking and resting thought, his everyday motivation, his sun, his moon, his everything. he spent nearly every day crafting some sort of plan to win you back, and nights dreaming of you two growing old and being happy together.

back when you dated, you had him as your sole emergency contact, and you never remembered to take him off of it because you didn't find yourself frequently getting into accidents. at least, not until now as of late. recently, you found yourself treading a wobbly tightrope of misfortune, and that bad luck had somehow managed to land you in the hospital late at night. waking up dazed, confused, sore, and bandaged in numerous places, you sat up with a groan. the only thing the nurse was saying that you managed to catch was that you had a visitor. everything else went in one ear and out the other.

minutes after the nurse walke out of the room, an unfamiliar man with long blue hair came rushing in, looking tired as if he had been woken up, yet very scared at the same time. "y/n! i know you probably don't want to see me, but i needed to make sure you were okay. are you alright?? i came as soon as i could," he said worriedly. he spoke in frantic rambles, but you could only stare at him in confusion as he did. halting his rambles when he noticed your perplexed expression, he leaned down so his face was level to yours. "y/n... is something wrong?" he said, his voice laced with concern.

you only stared at him more, studying his face before finally speaking. "do i.. know you?" you asked. in an instant, his entire expression dropped. there was a hollowness in his eyes, and his throat went dry as he stared into yours. you had never seen someone so terrified. "..what?"

there was an awkward look on your face. "um, i think you have me confused with someone else by my name,' you murmured quietly. he shook his head, blinking away his fearful expression and furrowing his eyebrows. he moved a hand forward to cradle your face, but hesitantly retracted it when you shifted back. his expression was slightly hurt as he spoke in a softer tone.

"y/n, its me, kaeya, i'm your.." he trailed off, for a sudden realization came to him that this could be his only chance to get you back. it was a ghastly idea, admittedly, but he meant it when he said he'd stop at nothing to win your heart again. he moved his hands forward, too swift for you to pull away as they both found purchase on your cheeks. "don't you remember? i'm your boyfriend," he said with a pleading look in his eyes.

"oh," you said, your lips forming half a smile, "okay." he pulled you closer, pressing his forehead against yours as he let out a shaky sigh before speaking. "archons, i've missed you so much," he muttered. you found that statement odd coming from the man who was supposed to be dating you, but you didn't have time to question it before he raised his head and pulled you into a rushed kiss.

your eyes widened, but they slowly flutttered closed as you reciprocated the kiss. if he's your boyfriend, it should be okay, right? he pulled you closer, hands gently yet firmly cradling your face as he crawled onto the bed with you, hovering above you as he practically pressed his body against yours. he wouldn't pull away from you, urgently making out with you until you were frantically tapping his shoulder so you could breath. "kaeya,," you murmured before he finally let up and pulled away from you, still holding on tight like you'd disappear or something if he let go of you even for a second.

you looked up at him, softly panting while you tried to catch your breath. "you nearly suffocated me," you said softly with a smile and a touch of humor in your tone. there was a guilty expression on his face as he looked at you, long locks of his tousled hair hanging down and tickling your skin. "i'm sorry, baby," he said before leaning forward and placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. his eyes darted elsewhere as he murmured something to himself, barley loud enough for you to hear. "its just been so long.."

you raised an eyebrow. again with the cryptic words. "kaeya," you started, "what do you mean 'so long'?" you questioned.

his breath hitched. he didn't know what to say, but he had to think of something quick. "uh, it's been so long... since you've been hurt like this, baby! i haven't been this worried in quite a while," he frantically explained. it's funny, you couldn't seem to recall any other time that you'd been injured enough to be in the hospital. it perplexed you so much, you started to wonder just how many things you'd forgotten.

before you could say any more, he pulled off of you and stood up. he seemed so nervous as he looked at you-- almost like he'd made some sort of mistake. he fiddled anxiously with his hands and his voice had a slight tremble to it as he spoke. "i'm gonna get you some water, do you need anything else?"

you shook your head, and he muttered an okay before swiftly turning around and exiting the room. you couldn't help but think to yourself, what an odd man. there was something so off about him but you just couldn't figure out what. sometime later, the door opened again and there stood kaeya, holding a bottle of water alongside some folded clothes and a phone sitting atop them.

he smiled, that nervousness from mere moments ago completely washed away. setting down the clothes and phone on a nearby table, he handed you the water before sitting in a chair by the foot of the bed. "one of the nurses handed me your things when i was on the way back here," he said, briefly pausing before continuing again, "she said you should be in the clear to leave tomorrow."

with a quiet sigh of ease, you smiled, sipping your water before you spoke. "well, that's a relief," you said softly. he spoke again, his tone gentle despite his true intentions. "it sure is. if you need anything, i'll be right here, okay?"

you nodded, your focus turning to your phone that sat atop your clothes. you picked it up in hopes that something on it could help you find the missing puzzle pieces in your brain. tapping the screen a couple times, you realize that it was powered off. so you held the power button down with a hopeful glint in your eyes-- only to be met with disappointment to see that it'd be locked until.. two days from now?!

you turned it over, examining every nook and cranny of the small device to try and find some way to unlock it, but it was pointless. you weren't going to get into your phone for quite some time-- and kaeya made sure of that. blinded by hope, you spent so long turning it over and over, analyzing the lit-up screen for any way that you could get around this two-day wait. though the whole time, you couldn't ignore the chilling feeling of kaeya's stare tearing right into you. you dared not meet his gaze directly, but in the corner of your eye, you could make out an icy-cold expression on his face as he stared deep into your soul-- like a tiger waiting for its prey to make the wrong move before it pounces.

he wouldn't tear his eyes off of you even for half a second, and it sent an uneasy chill down your spine. you felt trapped, like you couldn't do anything but fiddle with your phone because you'd shatter if you looked back at him. eventually, he fell asleep and you finally let up, quietly setting your phone down as your gaze swept over him. you observed his low-hung head and listened to the quiet snores coming from him that floated around the room, and began to feel a growing uncertainty surrounding just exactly what your relationship with this mystifying man was.

why did he assume you wouldn't want to see him? what did he really mean by "i've missed you" and "it's been so long"? you had so many questions, and could only hope that they would be answered soon . . .