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maiamore · 22 days ago

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STAR-STRUCK

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Rating: 18+ | W/C: 5k

Summary: You’re a fresh-faced production assistant for known action star Joel Miller. He’s not quite what you expected–but neither are you.

Tags: actor!joel x production assist reader, action film set, no use of y/n, rough/dom Joel, use of the word ‘kid’, mirror sex, rough sex, unprotected pinv, mentions of injuries & violence, Joel does his own stunts, public sex, bdj (big-dicked-Joel), Joel is not nice in this fic, more untagged read at your own discretion A/N: oof this a long one. also! i swear i've seen something similar relating to the mandalorian reference. if anyone knows the fic, pleaaaase let me know

READER’S TATT/PIERCINGS-SPO

This wasn’t what you’d imagined your life to look like.

For the majority of your adult life, you’d clung to a glittering, idealistic vision of your future. You’d blame it on those countless movie marathons with your dad–the late nights, the worn-out couch and the satisfying click of the DVD player setting the stage for your ambitions. You’d dreamed of being a part of the magic. The glitz, the glamour, the art of it all.

Directors like Ridley Scott, Martin Scorsese, John McTiernan captured your adolescent heart, fanning the flames of your Hollywood dreams.

You knew coming into this that it was going to be far from easy. God knows you’d paid your dues living in NYC after having moved from your small town–sharing a tiny shoebox of an apartment with three others, taking multiple part-time gigs, hustling to finally land a Production Assistant (PA) role.

And now here you were. Accommodations comped, flown to Atlanta for the shoot of some action movie you weren’t even allowed to know the title of thanks to the NDA you’d signed.

It was suspenseful, sure, but not in the sexy, thrilling way you’d imagined. More like in the “what fresh hell did I sign up for” sort of way.

“So you’ll be handling scheduling, coordinating, and helping the stylists. And making sure his overall well-being is met.”

You shuffled behind Jonah, the PA you were supposedly replacing. It was nearly overwhelming. Already built streets, custom housings, all wrapped up in a larger than life sound stage. Everyone was in their own world, working on their own tasks.

Normal people might have felt small and unseen. But you? You were still star-struck. You could be a part of something so much bigger than you, and that thought excited you.

“7am every morning. You’ll need to be on standby to help Joel with everything he needs. So here’s the schedule.”

More papers were being shoved to you, your arms slowly vanishing beneath an ever-growing stack. You scanned it, eyes twitching in dread.

Every fifteen damned minutes had its own designation. Was this a movie or a military operation?

“Right! Got that. So…who exactly am I…” You squint at the bolded text on freshly printed paper, still warm to touch. “Wiping sweat at 16:45…for?”

Jonah halts mid-strut, turning back to you like you’d just insulted his entire bloodline. “What…do you mean? You don’t know who you’re working for?”

“I do.” You shoot back defensively. “Well–okay. No. Not really. I was given an NDA, so I’m–”

“It was a yes or no question, hun.”

Suddenly, you were grateful to J-hole leaving. Not so much of replacing his long ass list of endless tasks, though.

He stops before the stylist’s station, gesturing to a cluttered board, displaying headshots and costume references for your apparent “boss.” As you step closer, your breath catches in your throat.

No way. No fucking way.

“Joel fucking Miller?”

Your fingers, almost acting on their own, plucked one of the profile shots from the board. Joel’s broad frame was practically sculpted. His Special Forces uniform taut over his muscles, probably for the character he was playing. Another close-up featured his face smudged with faux grime and fake injuries, his expression hardened and grim.

And then…there were the less clothed test shots. Your gaze betrayed you, dipping to the dark trail of neatly trimmed curls disappearing beneath his belt.

Your head snapped up so fast it was a miracle you didn’t pull a muscle, as though the sheer force of willpower could exorcise the horny demon possessing you.

Jonah grins at your obvious surprise. Sighing dreamily at the profile shots of him, side views and costume shots.“Yep. Now. It isn’t going to be a problem with you now is it? We had to fire the old girl cuz’ she attempted to–nevermind. Don’t wanna get into that. It was a whole debacle. You can look it up in the files under the Miller versus Nancy lawsuit.”

You glanced at Jonah, confusion knitting your brow before returning the photo to the desk. Honestly? You probably wouldn’t have blamed this Nancy. Joel had been the blueprint for your sexual awakening.

As fucked as it was. Considering he was closer in age to your dad than your own.

Watching him star in films by the greats back in high school had left you fantasizing, his smoldering intensity seared into your brain. God. You were going to need the entire night to mentally prepare for this.

“You tellin’ that story again?” The voice behind you sent a shiver up your spine–it was the kind of voice that wrapped around you like a thick yarned blanket on a cold night. And the kind of voice you fantasized about when you were grinding against your pillow.

You froze, every damned nerve on high alert. Turning slowly.

Joel Miller stands there. Resurrected from the photos itself.

He was dressed like he’d just walked off a lazy Sunday pickup game. Grey athletic shorts that hung low on his hips, revealing sturdy, hairy legs that somehow made him seem even more rugged. A black t-shirt clung to his frame, dampened at the collar with sweat. Navy cap sitting snug on his head.

You couldn’t stop yourself from shamelessly dragging your eyes from the damp curls peeking out at the nape of his neck to his thighs.

He scratches his stubbled jaw, his eyes sweeping the room before landing on you. They paused, and you realized–a little too late–that he’d caught you gawking.

Joel nudges his head towards you. “This her?”

Jonah nods, handing Joel a call sheet. “All new and sparkly.”

He looks you over–not in a predatory way, but like he was cataloging every detail. Dark and steady. And it lands on your shirt. For a split second his brows lifted, just barely.

“You watch that one?”

Your brain stutters and you look down, realizing you’d stupidly worn your Mandalorian graphic tee. His face–or well, Din Djarin's helmeted face, was plastered across your chest along with the iconic Star Wars logo.

“Oh! Um. yeah,” you stammer, tugging the hem of the cotton as if the ink would magically disappear.

Great. You meet the man you had dozens of posters of and you were stuttering like a fucking idiot.

“Big fan. Of the show. And, um, the movies. And, you know, your–” Joel holds up a palm, silencing your rambling. “Right.” He sounded amused, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “...‘preciate it.”

Joel never liked change. It was ironic, given his line of work. An actor, in its nature, had him slipping into new roles and personas on a constant basis. But no matter how many characters he played, he'd preferred the familiarity of a constant crew.

So the news that Jonah was leaving and that his replacement was a fresh out of film school rookie had Joel grumbling for days.

Then he saw you.

Maybe it was the way you looked at him, like you were seconds away from fainting. Or maybe it was the shirt. That damn shirt.

You clearly hadn’t gotten the memo about dressing for long hours on set. Instead of the usual hoodie and less than glamorous foam sneakers combo, you were rocking a cropped baby tee stretched taut across your chest.

His gaze dipped, almost involuntarily, taking in the rest of you. The way your bootcut jeans sat low and snug on your hips—to the bunch of keys and a juicy grape chapstick hung on a carabiner attached to your belt loop.

When you shifted nervously, the movement sent a glint of light flickering from your stomach. A silver charm, shaped like a star, dangled from your belly button. He caught himself mid-thought, forcing his eyes back to your face, but the damage was done.

You weren’t as innocent as you looked. He’d figured out that much.

Your fuck-ups hadn’t gotten you fired. Not yet, at least. Somehow, you were still here. Holding onto your job by a thread.

It still felt surreal, working for Joel Miller. You’d spent years watching this man on screen. All his works & press interviews. It seemed pretty fucking unreal to think that you now had his name saved to your phone like no big deal.

Given you weren’t able to tell anyone about it, though the purple vibrator that sat in your bedside drawer was pretty much the only thing that knew his name by now.

In the weeks that followed, you’d fallen into a rhythm with him. There were rules–unspoken ones. You didn’t ask too many questions, didn’t hover too close, and didn’t take it personally when he barked orders or dismissed you with a grunt. Joel wasn’t an easy man to work for.

What was even worse, was that in Joel's eyes, you were probably the least sexual entity to have ever existed. It stung, especially when you considered how much of your mind he occupied.

“Give me a…second. Dunno how these things work.”

You’d shifted uncomfortably, dropping to your knees to Joel’s horror. You sat on your thighs with a huff. Attempting to gather the hem of Joel’s pants to tuck into the army garters.

“Christ. You don’t hafta…” Joel’s throat tightened as he fought the sudden, unwelcome heat pooling low in his gut.

“Huh?”

It was distracting, the sight of you so close. On your fuckin’ knees no less. Joel tugs around his belt. He snaps his fingers to catch your attention and you look up at him, with wide eyes.

His thumbs twisting around the two metal hooks of the thin garter until it connects. “Just hook em’ together, kid.”

You nodded at his words. Finally managing to neatly tuck it into his boots.

Though from his vantage point, something else catches his eye–a small mark etched into your skin. Black ink at the nape of your neck, a star, delicate like the charm that hung from your belly button.

“Ya got a thing for stars?”

You blinked a few times before the words finally registered. Was he really starting a conversation when you were on the ground like this? You notice the slight nudge of his head towards your left.

Instinctively, you cupped around the back of your neck. “Oh..yeah. I mean…it’s pretty and all.” You had to admit, Joel’s childlike curiosity over the ink on your body all of a sudden caught you off guard.

He raises a brow at your admission. “What’s the point of puttin’ it at a place you can’t see. Seems pretty pointless.”

“Didn’t put it there for me to see.” You say with a shrug.

Joel’s jaw ticks when he realises the insinuation behind your words. He drags his hand down his face, opting to finally keep his mouth shut when the images conjured in his mind couldn’t be held back anymore.

You didn’t quite notice his distress till you looked up after the lengthy silence that settled.

The imperceptible twitch in his crotch area catches your attention. Your lips parted to stifle a gasp of surprise.

Was he— “Jus’ get the hell up, kid.”

The respectable thing to do was to go on about his job. It was humiliating enough that you’d caught him in a painfully embarrassing position.

But Joel Miller learned two new things about himself.

First, he didn’t quite mind the soft, lingering scent of strawberries and vanilla you seemed to carry. A quiet, comforting sweetness that seemed to cling to the air whenever you were near.

The second? Well, the second was far more troublesome.

The thoughts that plagued him at night when he was fucking his fist, or someone else for that matter. It didn’t help that he was aware of such vivid and intimate details of you. It fucked with his head how desperately he wanted to draw pleasure out of you and stain that pretty little dainty star you had on your belly with ropes of his cum.

The culmination of it all was taxing. But somehow? He managed to keep those thoughts at bay.

When the director finally called cut for the day, Joel stepped off set, muscles aching and shirt damp with sweat. He scans the area out of habit.

Jonah would’ve been there by now–towel, water & phone in hand, ready for the usual barrage of calls and texts he needed to deal with.

Instead, it was you.

Joel exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face as the realization hit him again. Right. Jonah was gone.

“You don’t have to look like the world’s ended, Joel.”

He doesn’t answer you, not at first.

“It’s not like I’m going to tell people that you—“

Joel seats himself in his chair loudly. A silent warning for you to not go there. He lets out a long, drawn out exhale. Folding his arms tightly. “Kid. Don’t know whatcha think you saw–”

That again. Kid. Was that how he saw you? You had half the mind to admit what the idea of it did to you—the idea that he might’ve gotten hard at the thought of you.

“Hate that I even have to ask.” You begin, not letting him finish his thought. “You realize I’m not.” You were dabbing a little harder now, tossing out the used makeup wipes in the trash beside you.

“Y’are when I’ve got a decade over ya.” He says simply. Wincing at your harsh gestures. “Don’t need the complications.” He pushes your hand away, his deep brown eyes stayed locked on you, searching, warning.

“Leave well enough alone, got that?”

The following weeks on set proved to be grueling, even by Joel’s standards. His reputation preceded him. A stubborn, self-reliant actor who insisted on doing his own stunts. For the studio, it was a nightmare. Higher insurance premiums, a ballooning budget, and his manager losing sleep over the what-ifs.

For Joel, it was just how he’d always worked.

But his body wasn’t what it used to be. He could feel the aftermath of his aching limbs with every roll, leap, and landing. By the end of each day, he was a drained man.

The tension on set that evening was suffocating, the kind that made every sound sharper, every movement feel urgent.

Joel’s stunt wasn’t supposed to go wrong. It rarely did. But today was different.

You’d seen the way his jaw tightened with every take, the exhaustion etched into the lines of his face. Monitoring him from the sidelines when the cameras were still rolling.

Then it happened.

A sickening crunch, the unmistakable sound of something gone wrong. Joel hit the ground hard, and the set erupted in chaos. The director’s voice echoed through the sound stage, “Cut! Jesus. Check on Joel. Now!” as the crew scrambled toward him.

You froze, the towel and water bottle in your hands suddenly feeling useless. Your feet moved on instinct, but the crowd around Joel was essentially a wall. Blocking you out.

You couldn’t get through.

“Back off. M’fine.” Joel’s voice cuts through the commotion, frustration dripping from every word. He swatted away helping hands, gaze darting through the crowd. His face twisted in anger, not from pain but from the lack of order.

“Where the hell is she?” he grumbled.

You hesitated, your stomach knotting. His eyes finally locked onto you, and his expression darkened. “You. Get over here.”

The weight of his command pulled you forward, even as your gut screamed to stay back, letting someone more qualified deal with it. You shuffled behind him as you’d maneuvered out of the crowd and back into his trailer. Eyes widening at the sight of blood seeping through a tear in his shirt.

“Joel, I–…shouldn’t we call–”

“Don’t need someone else,” he interrupted, his tone biting but strained. “Just. I’ll tell ya what to do. Kits in the left drawer.”

“Okay,” you murmured, trying to keep your voice steady, wracking your brain for memories of those first aid videos you’d seen on YouTube. Film school did not prep you for this.

As you grabbed the first aid kit, you watched Joel slump against the trailer walls. You stood there, awkwardly, watching the scarlet blossom against his abdomen.

He looks at you for a moment before exhaling. “Y’know, you can ask n’ not jus’ stand there like a mute, darlin’.”

The witty remark dies in your throat when he yanks his shirt off. Effectively shutting your brain down entirely. You stare down at his body in its’ full glory. Damp with sweat and streaked with dirt. Blood smeared in jagged trails down his arm to his abdomen, mingling with grime from the fall. Joel pulls out the antiseptic wipes from the first aid kit, handing it to you.

“Shit, Joel. That looks fucking bad.” You hissed out, as though you were the one with a darkened gash on your midriff when you attempted to wipe the first streak off.

“Why…” Fuck. Your voice was cracking. “Why didn’t you just let someone else help you?”

He huffed, his dark eyes flicking to yours for a moment in amusement before looking away. “Ain’t worth makin’ a scene over somethin’ small.”

“This isn’t small, Joel,” you protested, frowning as you uncovered a deeper gash on his side. “You should’ve let the medics handle it.”

“Don’t need all that fuss.” His tone was clipped, defensive. “Been doin’ my own stunts for years. Ain’t stoppin’ now ‘cause of a scratch.”

“This isn’t a scratch.”

Joel’s gaze flicked to yours again, a flash of something unreadable in his expression. “Look, I get it, alright? But I don’t need everyone actin’ like I’m fallin’ apart. I’m fine.”

He knew deep down that his ego was far too big to admit that he actually needed help.

“Stubborn,” you murmured under your breath, shaking your head as you pressed a clean pad against the wound.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

Joel’s patience was paper thin, but he bit back whatever comment was forming on his tongue. “Enough of that. Just…tie it up” He sighs, strained, handing you a roll.

You nodded, fumbling with the bandage as your heart pounded in your ears. The wound was deeper than you’d thought now that it was clean, and the sight of it made your stomach churn.

“C’mon, darlin’. Ain’t got all day.”

You secured the bandage, tying it off with a bunny-eared bow before sitting back on your heels. Fingertips drumming on your knees, seemingly proud of yourself.

Joel glanced down, his brows furrowing as he took in your work. “What the hell is that?”

“What?” you say defensively. “You told me to tie it.”

“Looks like ya wrapped a damn present,” he muttered.

“Fine, I’ll redo it–”

“Don’t bother.” He caught your hands before you could move, holding them in place. “It’ll hold.”

The silence that followed proved to further intensify the air between the two of you. His grip on your wrist was firm but not harsh, his eyes locked on yours. You didn’t dare to move.

The curve of his nose grazed your cheeks, the faintest touch sent a shiver down your spine, but he had enough sense to move away.

You however, didn’t think, didn’t hesitate when you leaned in, capturing his lips in a quick, tentative kiss.

It seemed to have caught the both of you off guard.

Joel froze, the kiss barely lasting a second before he pulls back, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you thought he’d tell you off.

But instead, he leans forward. Kissing you harder, deeper. A palm slips to the back of your neck to anchor you in place.

With nowhere else to put your hands, you placed them on his thighs, gripping them tightly.

The kiss wasn’t gentle. It was desperate. His lips moved against yours with an urgency that made your head spin. His other hand gripped your waist, drags you closer until your knees pressed against the side of his hips.

But just as quickly as it started, Joel stops. He pulls back with a bated breath. His hands slip from where he held your neck. “Shit,” he mutters, his jaw clenching as he looks away. “Shit.”

You blinked, your heart racing as you tried to catch up. Trying not to let the disappointment show in your voice. “Joel–”

“Stop. I shouldn’t have.” The curtness in his tone startled you. But you frowned. Trailing behind him as he gets up.

“Well you did.” You blocked his path towards the door of his trailer. Eyes filled with a burning persistence of him once again denying you.

“Don’t push it, kid.”

You’d practically stepped up to him confrontationally. “—Or better yet, you gonna tell me that I imagined it?”

“You can’t do all of that and then just back off.”

It frustrated you to no end when he stonewalled you like this. Like you were some irrational kid who couldn’t read between the lines.

When Joel finally does speak, he merely says your name. With a finality you couldn’t quite refute. You bite the inside of your cheeks. Feeling humiliated at being shot down when you’d thrown yourself onto someone like this.

“Fucking coward.”

This time, you didn’t mumble.

Joel visibly grimaces at that. You feel his hand grip painfully around your wrist, stopping you from leaving the trailer.

You let out a choked gasp when his hands shoot out to grip around your throat before you could even react. Forcing you backwards at every step. Instinctively, you grab around his wrists to loosen his grip.

“Hey!”

He leans down to your level, lips grazing against your ears in a deep whisper. “Fuckin’ coward, huh?” You'd pushed all the right buttons. He'd held back for so damned long and he didn't have it in him to hold back. Not after you'd run your mouth.

You let out a shaky exhale. Teeth grit painfully. You should’ve felt scared. Horrified, really. But the tenderness in his hold makes you feel conflicted about what you should’ve felt.

Joel’s grip held you firm. Tipping your head up. “Y’want me to fuck you that bad?”

A soft whimper leaves your lips when his back presses against you. The hardness rubbed up against your core. You shudder at the sensation, nodding weakly.

His rough palms circle around your waist, turning you over the dressing table until your pelvis sat flush against it. The grip around your throat swiftly turns to a vice grip around your jaw.

He tugs at your jaw. “Words, sweetheart.”

“Ugh—yes.…need you..tofuckme.” You manage through gritted teeth. It irked you to say it, but you had a feeling he wouldn’t have let up.

Joel tugs you to look up into your own reflection. Your gaze immediately sours, attempting to look away.

“C’mon now. S’a pretty sight.” He tuts. His other palm drags the fabric of your top up harshly, pulling it up along with your bra. Your tits spilling at the notion. A gasp slips from your lips.

“Joel!” Your palms tightens into fists on the table at the obscene sight.

So much for someone who didn’t want to give in.

It doesn’t faze Joel, merely letting out a low whistle. Kneading them in his palms. “Perfect fuckin’ tits.”

He presses a kiss down the sides of your neck. Twisting around your nipples till they hardened between his fingers. You let out a pathetic whine at the sensation. Holding his arms firmly, you squirm as he nips your shoulder.

“Could you just—“ Your protests don't stop him in the slightest. Nudging your head a little to give him room. He takes it as a sign to bite down on your neck, bruising you with hickeys all over.

Joel seems to catch your nervous flickers towards the doors. He shifts your hair over one side of your shoulder. Thumbing over the ink on the nape of your neck. You hear the sound of the zipper, briefly catching sight of him shucking his pants down. He winces slightly at the dull pain shooting across his abdomen, but the desperation of needing you was far greater than the pain.

Somehow, the idea of not being able to see it made it so much worse. And as though he reads your mind, he presses his jaw against the side of your head. “Relax.” The tenderness in his tone through the roughness does manage to soothe your nerves. You nod slowly.

Your hips jolt as the cold air hits your body when Joel dips a finger under the waistband of your sweats. He teasingly brushes his fingers lightly against your skin before swiftly tugging them down to your thighs along with the flimsy cotton panties you had on. “A little warning would help.” You bite back, finally losing patience at his tactless gestures.

Joel meets your gaze through the mirror. A lopsided smirk quirking up his lips. “Right. My bad.” You could feel the disingenuity in his tone before he taps the length of his cock against your lower back. The gesture almost mocking.

A shudder runs down your spine. He was big, unlike anything you’ve experienced before.

He hikes your hip backwards and flush against him. Your palms instinctively clutches around the edge of the table. Joel takes his time, sliding his hard cock between the softness of your thighs. The sensation nearly sends you doubling over. Watching the weeping tip poke through in the reflection, slightly smearing his precum on your clit.

You squeeze your legs together subconsciously, earning a wince from him. He was certain he could come just from fucking your thighs like this. The pace he took now bordered on torturous. Teasing you with everything but giving you nothing.

You took it upon yourself to stretch your hands between your thighs in an attempt to notch him in you. You were aching. Badly.

Joel lets out a grunt of disapproval, yanking your wrist to pin it behind your back. Leaving you to steady your body weight onto your other hand. “Eager little thing. Daddy ain’t ever teachya patience?”

His snark burned in your cheeks. It was a futile effort. He could see every single expression you were making from your reflection and he fucking thrived on it. Joel takes a hold of his cock, lining it up against your soaked cunt, he slowly drags your slick over his length. You were soaking him before he even started.

Your head dips, clinging onto the fleeting pleasure every time the tip of his cock bumped against your clit.

“Joel–please just fuck me...”

So he does.

Before you could even catch your breath, he snaps his hips into you. “Deep breath f’me, sweetheart.” If not for his grip around your wrist, you would’ve probably face planted into the dresser.

The sting from the intrusion of his thickness had your cunt tightening with every move he makes, squeezing the absolute life out of his dick.

Your hair falls in front of your face as he mercilessly fucks you. You swore you could feel him almost grazing the entrance of your cervix. “T-Too..too fucking...big.”

Joel tips his head at the sight of your pussy swallowing his cock, probably only halfway. He doesn’t say anything yet. Only humming at your whines. “I know baby.”

You look down shakily at where the both of you were connected, the lines between pain and pleasure blurring to the point you hadn’t registered the tears prickling the corner of your eyes. “Hurts…”

Joel seems to feel a tinge of empathy at the way you were struggling to take him, hiccuping through your whines. His gaze flickers to the way your pretty little face scrunched up, doing your fucking best like the good girl you were. A slight groan leaves his lips involuntarily.

All rationality be fucked.

His hand grips around your throat, forcing you to look up at the mirror.

As humiliating as it was, you couldn’t help but feel increasingly turned on at the sight of his cock fucked into your dripping pussy in squelches. “See that? Takin’ me so ’fuckin’ well.” He sighs into your shoulder.

The praise has you lifting your hips higher, on your tippy toes–forcing a deeper arch at your hips. With how slick your thighs were, you weren’t even sure yourself if you did come.

Nothing but the sounds of his pelvis snapping into your ass in rhythmic, hard slaps. He buries his head in the crook of your shoulder. And you hear him audibly grunt this time. Thrusting into you at a punishing pace.

Joel could feel the all familiar tightening in his sack, he knew he was close. The sheer suction your soft, slick walls were providing him was nothing he’d ever felt before. He lets go of your throat, both palms gripped around your hips, painful enough to leave a mark. The table rattles under your combined weights and Joel’s frantic thrusts, products rolling and clattering onto the ground. He noses your cheeks, stubble rubbing against your pulse point. “Perfect fuckin’ pussy…”

You offer a slight whimper at his words, meeting the intensity his thrusts weakly. You both still at the shuffle of footsteps approaching the trailer.

The sharp knocks against the trailer door has the both of you whipping your head towards it.

“Everything okay?”

Your heartbeat thuds in your ears loudly. The door wasn’t locked.

Joel doesn't answer, simply looking at you. Your expression twists in frustration. Mouthing the words ‘me?’. There wasn't time to deliberate. Your lips parts to speak, barely able to form coherent words. “Y..yeah. A-All good.”

“Right…productions cutting it close. So if Joel’s oookaaay…”

You cursed internally at how persistent whoever behind the doors was. But you nearly see white when Joel fully slams into you. Deeper than before. You couldn’t control the sharp cry that leaves your lips, but it is soon muffled by Joel’s rough palms covering your mouth.

“M’fine. Give us ten.”

Your tears pool around his hand. Gripping onto his wrists when he continues to pound into you at a faster intensity. You were whining by the time the crewmate finally left. Joel pulls you against his chest. Audibly groaning into your ears now. “Fuck. M’close.”

You nodded dumbly, not even sure just what at anymore. Shaky hands clinging onto him like a lifeline. With a final rut, his hips stutter, ropes of his cum painting the insides of your walls.

He held it there for a couple of seconds before pulling out. All messy and soaked with your arousal.

You let out a strained exhale at the feeling of loss as your pussy convulses around nothing, pearlescent liquid dripping from your reddened cunt.

Joel sighs wantonly at the sight. With the state of you, he was briefly worried that he might’ve gone too hard. And then he sees it. Your smaller, manicured hands, pushing more of his dripping come into your folds. Yeah. Joel was fucked.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x y/n #joel x reader #pedro pascal smut #joel the last of us

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sahisan · 3 months ago

Text

— curiousity killed the cat.

featuring . pm!dazai osamu.

tags . suggestive, so slight nsfw. civilian!gn!reader. dazai's a bit sick. just pmzai things yk (he's scary). weapons described (he has a gun). blood mentioned. gunplay mentioned (brief suggestive description). wc 1.8k.

author note . this is so random i don't even know if the paragraphs do well together bc i just poured my most random thoughts into it and i was sleepy and barely managed to proofread it. yep. i imagined mostly 20-22!pmzai here. continuation kinda here.

dazai hid many things. he hid them well; years of being on constant standby, awaiting, on guard about anything enemy or not related. he hid in the shadows no matter day or night, but the shadows didn't always necessarily mean him only scrambling around in narrow alleyways or in the safety of the headquarters—in reality, he spent little time in the latter, nor did he 'lurk in the shadows' often, unless on a mission.

he hid everything from everyone, including you; of course including you. and the thing that bothered him the most was you finding out about what he does. did. has done. keeps on doing every day. not only does he not want the port mafia's countless enemies to know about you, but dazai also dreads the thought of you getting even a little bit closer to the truth of what he does for a living. he thinks of how he might slip one day and just reveal his true nature, intentionally or not, and either let you be disgusted and scared or kill you immediately because you might report to the police; it bothers him in both ways.

dazai avoids the area of your home when out at work. he makes sure to put on some casual clothes before visiting your place. when things are bad, work routine and you colliding together closer to night, he makes sure to hold a small bottle of hydrogen peroxide in his inner pocket to quickly wash away the stains of blood from his clothes. he keeps a bit of cologne there as well, to hide the stench of blood he usually reeks of during the day—he doesn't even use cologne daily. if you need him right after work, he disposes of his weapons, giving them away to the underlings that follow his word.

everything is always under control.

like tonight. he'd had a "kill and dispose" assignment, after which he'd had to go to yours and spoil you with a movie night he promised you. ah, the long-awaited respite from everyday bloodshed.

yet he was still on guard; he always has been, but today was busy and rough and all he needed was your embrace and a movie as a background noise while he showered you with kisses and cuddled you with neverending hugs.

and dazai forgot.

already at your doorstep, already having ringed the bell by your front door when dazai looked down at himself and—

fuck.

there was a small but clear blood stain right next to his tie. ah. how great. he definitely won't have time to remove it, but he might try to win some time to divert your attention from it if you notice—and you will, if he doesn't do anything about it.

with the door opening, dazai threw himself at you, literally waltzing into your apartment, hip to hip, your left hand in his right and his left hand at your waist, he led you through the corridor in an almost hasty improvisation of a dance, causing his tie to sway just in the right direction and have you giving him a look that screamed "you and your antics again?". good.

"ah, you look especially divine tonight," he mused, nuzzling your neck and making you place your chin on his shoulder; very good, the stain was out of your sight at least for now, and he couldn't be happier about that. "i haven't had dinner yet but i already know what i want for dessert."

distract. distract and avert and keep away—best tactic of dazai's that rarely failed, and he was used to putting it to use everywhere he could, including you. you could be perceptive or gullible, didn't matter—it worked wonders on anyone and will continue working for as long as he wanted to.

dazai swayed you around a few more times, dancing his way into your living room while humming a nauseatingly sweet, random tune he made up in his head a second ago. hip against yours again, he let a content smirk wash over his lips.

a clank. soft, quiet sound of metal clanking once echoed through the room, and it was almost eerie silence aside from his barely audible humming just as his hipbone met yours.

that didn't sound good, considering the only thing on his hip was—

ah. dazai forgot two things tonight.

in reverie about cursing himself head to toe in his mind, he lost the sensation of your touch until it felt too suspicious and he was too late, you reaching for the side hem of his coat and tugging it away from his side to reveal it to the light. you were always so curious, and he couldn't tell whether it was bad or good for him in general.

the soft clink echoed once more as your fingers grazed the object, and his eyes narrowed. the gun. shit. in his distracted state, he'd forgotten to dispose of it along with wiping away the blood.

dazai's hand shot out from beneath the coat, and he knew he wasn't doing himself a favor by raising his hand to grab yours, only revealing the holster further, but he didn't necessarily give a shit right now. he ought to do more than care about the gun right now, like a proper boyfriend, first being calming you down and assuring you it's not loaded and isn't as scary as it looks and that you shouldn't be afraid and the second being change of course of the conversation so seamlessly that you forget about the weapon for the rest of the night at least (unfortunately, the last sentence never crossed his mind).

but when did dazai ever go according to an adequate plan?

his hand held yours in the air, palm gliding up and down your inner forearm, trying to, first, soothe every negative emotion that might come up on the surface of your face, as well as keeping your curious hand away.

"ah-ah-ah, how naughty," dazai purred, voice dripping with false sweetness even as his eyes glinted with dangerous amusement; what he was supposed to be doing absolutely slipped from his thoughts the second he sensed the quickening of your heartbeat and breath and the cautious halting and tensing of your body against his, and he was already getting hard just from this. sick. "what did i tell you about wandering hands, hmm?"

he ground his hips against yours once after that, letting you feel the growing hardness in his pants. distraction. that was the key. keep you focused on his body, on the pleasure he could give you, and you'd forget all about that pesky gun in no time.

“careful there, baby. wouldn’t want you to accidentally shoot yourself,” he said with a twisted, growing grin. his other hand, previously holding your left one, slid away from it to cup your cheek, thumb brushing along your jawline in a mockery of tenderness, visible eye looking down at your mouth.

"i'd hate to see those pretty lips marred by blood."

and yet, once he'd lifted his eyes up to yours, dazai could feel you tense under his touch, heart racing beneath your skin. he knew that look in your eyes, that widening of your pupils; he was all too familiar with it. fear. he had been so focused on the thrilling, twisted satisfaction the situation brought him momentarily, that he hadn't noticed how his actions were affecting you. his grip on your wrist loosened, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your inner wrist.

dazai sighed, deciding it was time to stop scaring you with both his demeanor and the weapon, even if it wasn't what he wanted right now at all; he had a switch to pull off, an appearance to keep up in front of you. ah, but how he'd love to prolong that moment for just a little longer: your fear palpable in the air, that scared glance you cast at him once, the trembling of your hands, hitch in your breathing and increase of your heartbeat.

maybe later.

"easy, easy," he murmured, voice low and soothing even as his mind raced. he tapped the holster twice. "it's not loaded, see?" a lie. "just a little souvenir," a lie. the gun was always loaded, ready to be drawn at a moment's notice, but you surely didn't need to know that. he'd already subjected you to more horror than a civilian would need to witness.

dazai leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he spoke. "you know i'd never be involved with these types of things and would never hurt you, right?" honey-sweet, dripping with false sincerity words. what he was absolutely best at was lying and manipulating, and he couldn't even control it anymore; if he needed you to believe, he will make you believe, one way or another.

"but you also shouldn't go poking around where you don't belong," he purred lowly with an audible dangerous lilt to his tone, lips now moving lower and ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck. "who knows what kind of trouble you might find yourself in. curiosity killed the cat, you know. you never know when you'll be the cat. and I'm not sure i'd be able to live with myself if something happened to you."

dazai could try to keep you away from his sicko tendencies and mind and thoughts that were all over the place and mingled together; the thoughts of protecting you from all of this meeting the ones of putting that gun to better use that just shooting people. and right now, he was barely holding it all in.

think of it this way: the thoughts of keeping his precious favourite civilian away from the corrupted knowledge and pain and feeling you tremble in fear underneath him, with the barrel of his gun tracing over your bare skin and getting dangerously close to where you'd need him most? oh, did the latter make dazai's stomach contort with desire and hips buckle up into yours. he would have to think more clearly about this later when his head wasn't a wreck of everything at once, but now...

"you want to play with something hard, baby?" dazai murmured in the end, all sultry and beaming with desire. "i'll give you something much better than a piece of metal to wrap your pretty fingers around."

dazai was sick and his mind twisted and he didn't get how he could ever keep someone like you by his side, but he supposed it was fate; and for as long as fate was merciful to him, he would make good use of it.

"but behave, hmm?"

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simp-ly-writes · 4 months ago

Text

Love and Zombies

─────── · · A Smosh FanFic

Pairing: Spencer "Brody" Agnew x gn!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: Amanda has called in sick on the first day of filming a new series for the Smosh Games channel, Dread. You create a hopeless romantic character, their ultimate goal? to find love (and to make sure others find it too ;)).

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, enemies to lovers, protectiveness, jealousy, angst, tension, fluff, light swearing, mutual pining, confessions, friends to lovers, cheesy, social media au (near the end).

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 1,641 | PART TWO

─ · · A/N: Something a bit different but I hope you all enjoy nonetheless! (y/c/n) = your characters name.

─────── · ·

When you got pulled from the marketing office only to be placed in a Smosh Games video you did not know what to expect. Lights and Cameras commanding down upon you as you took a seat beside Spencer and across from Courtney and Shayne while thinking about what could be read from the seating placement had your cheeks heating up as you whispered a Hello, not wanting to interfere with the sound peoples tests.

Shayne talked back in a full toned, "Hello!" that already have you feeling more embarrassed for not knowing what exactly to do on camera even when they were not rolling. "Got your character chosen?" Courtney asked as Spencer nodded his head, curious as to your answer only for your eyes to go wide with excitement.

"Yes, I do. But I want to see your reactions to them recorded," you tease just as Alex Tran calls for you all to take your positions and another person walks around to the head of the table, the game master themselves- George Primavera. You latch onto Spencer hand under the table, squeezing it in excitement, not having seen the rest of the casting call for your favorite dungeon master.

"And three... two... one... action!"

"Hello everyone, and welcome to Smosh verses Zombies. I George Primavera and I will be your Dungeon Master and Host for this session. Now can the players please introduce themselves to the camera," George announces taking the time to look over all of you as you all physically fall into character.

Shayne as Benardo, the nepo-baby artist. Courtney as Savanah, the bestie that always has your back. Spencer as Brody, the hater of everything and everyone with a secret. And your character, (y/c/n), the truly hopeless, romantic.

"You are never gonna find love," Spencer spits out, immediately turning to you, chest puffed out as he stares just past your face. You make the first eye-contact before looking down at the table, brows furrowed and let out a sigh, "Well, if you speak of it like that way. It will be you who will never be finding love, Brody." You spit out his name, refusing to look him in the eyes before offering Shayne a flirty smile and giggle, "now, Who are you?"

Spencer scoffs from your side, mumbling some snide remarks while glaring at Shayne who flips him off. "I'm an artist, looking for a muse, if you catch my drift?" He adds with a wink as you fan your face and bat your eyelashes. You can image the paint dripping off his True Religion jeans and white t-shirt. "I like the sound of that."

"You two are going to die first," Spencer states with his arms crossed. "Is that jealousy I hear?" you slowly pan your head over, taking in his features as you play with the rings on your fingers.

"Fuck no, thats gross," he retorts before Courtney interrupts, "I stand with (y/c/n), theres not much out here so might as well find someone to love and keep you entertained." Spencer looks visibly pained by this statement as he refuses to speak and the game proceeds to start.

─────── · ·

As bricks are being pulled one by one and with some near death experiences. You and Shayne are both going steady with a relationship, flirting, reaching across the table to hold hands and fighting back to back alongside one another. Courtney had acting the middle ground between you and Spencer throughout the game while Spencer's character was reaching his breaking point. George had been eating up the tension between the two of you, both still haven't looked at one another since the introductions, and he was scheming for a reaction.

"Will you two stop fucking in the back of my truck, fucking hell," Brody yells while gripping the steering wheel. Savanah is in the passengers seat, snickering and laughing at the scene.

"Do you want to join then?" Bernardo yells back in the small space just before the vehicle is stopped and you all lean quickly forwards in back in your chairs. You grip the table, shaking before moving to a stand and point at Brody.

"You know what, Brody-" you spit out his name with such vice, looking at him through his glasses and into his eyes. Deep down you can see Spencer smiling and begging you to go on and seize this moment, he loves watching you act so confidently in front of him- the cameras long forgotten. "-I am so done with you and- and your hate. If you don't want to be happy in life then so be it. But stop casting your grumpy old, stinky cloud all over me and Benardo-"

Spencer gags at the mention of his name in relation to yours before he two stands. George, the game master claps his hands excitedly from behind you, eyeing the tower with a knowing look. "-and you know what, if I was the owner of a car, I would have long since forgotten about you, have left you in the dust to die alone just like you want!"

Brody blinks at you before taking to a stand, his hands shake as Savanah and Benardo both lean closer. Benardo opens his mouth to make a statement before Courtney has a hand clapped over Shaynes mouth, glaring at him- daring him to interrupt this moment as you and Spencer now stand chest to chest. You both get a sudden wave a deja vu and to what... you both don't address before taking your seats once more.

"Wow..." George claps, smiling at you both as you stare at one another in a silent conversation. "...Now since you both have made no progress one again, the zombie hoard has made the distance and is about to attack you all, I am going to have to ask you to either pull or sacrifice-"

"I'll sacrifice!" Benardo announces. Hands placed on the table as he jets up, looking at you with pure adoration. "I will sacrifice for the love of my life."

"Benardo..." you let out a breath, partially of relief the other of a realization sadness as you shake you head. "Y-you don't have to do this you know, I'm sure theres another way. We could drive faster, we could-"

"There is no other way," Spencer announces, leaving no room for argument in his tone as both men nod to one another. Benardo takes one last look at you, blowing you a kiss that you catch and place on your heart before Shayne acts like he is getting electrocuted and falls to the ground beneath the table.

"You all stand there in grief, horror, and in partial awe so I am still going to have to ask you all to pull yourselves back into the truck," George says as you well your eyes with tears and make the first clean pull and move into the passengers side. Savanah goes next and succeeds, now sitting at the back of the truck. Brody is the last to pull.

You watch the side of his face not wanting to lose another... friend and having wanted to understand the weird tension and bring it finally to an end. Brody succeeds as you all drive to safety.

─────── · ·

You character and Brody would carry that awkward tension, the thin line between hate and love as you bantered and pointed guns in one another faces before shooting a zombie behind the other. You were surprised to learn the vicious protectiveness of Brody's character to yours often throwing Savanah out as bait to save you and she too was now getting sick of being the constant middle man.

Savanah called you out. "Its either you admit to your feelings to one another now, or I am going to announce to everyone the things you have said behind one another's backs. Grow up you two, its making all of this a lot harder than it should be. I mean, I think even Benardo saw it and agreed."

You could hear a few gasps from off camera that reminded you of the set you were playing in, the character you were playing as and the lights and cameras felt way too imposing once more and you shrunk down into your seat. An unknown guilt crept its way through your shaking hands as Spencer turned to you, grabbing one suddenly before letting out a large sigh and soon all of the background noise faded into the back of your mind.

You could not tell if Spencer was Brody, or Brody was Spencer in that moment as he spoke out- admitting to his jealous and distance to your past partners and the true feelings he held for you. Only finding them when your life was on the line, zombies banging on the door of the shelter you all thought to have found, that he loved you- he loves you.

And in not finding the right words to say right away, you pulled Brody- Spencer into a hug and whispered into his ear, unsure and uncaring if the mics would pick it up as well, I love you too.

─────── · ·

"CUT! Amazing work everyone. Thats an official wrap on episodes one and two. After lunch we will be filming the finale, so be sure to take a rest and plan those skits," Alex yelled as the house lights came back on, your eyes blinking out of character as your arms fell from one another and back down to your sides.

You and Spencer both watched as everyone gradually flooded out of the room. Courtney and Shayne both passing you a smile before turning down the hall. "You are one hell of an actor," Spencer starts with in a teasing tone that you match, "I could say the same to you as well."

─────── · ·

�� Smosh Games just posted! watch now?

─────── · ·

Jenga Decides Our Fate | Smosh vs. Zombies (ep.1+2)

Smosh Games ✓ [Subscribed] Like 56k | Dislike | ... 7.77M subscribers 1.1M views 3 months ago will we be able to survive?? click to read more

3,139 Comments

username21 YOU CANNOT JUST LEAVE THINGS LIKE THAT. I REFUSE TO WAIT ANOTHER WEEK 😭

username99 Did (name) say it back? Did. (name). say. it. back. I NEED to know!!

↳ username41 the public needs to know! we will revolt in these comments! we have done it before! 😡

username28 (name) and Spencer looked so taken by one another during their rant scenes. It was pure poetry, I love smosh!

username11 i genuinely cannot tell if they were acting or not.

username21 so worth the wait for the new content! can't wait for the new episode, I hope that Shayne is not dead for good, maybe he can come back in a new character?

↳ username07 yes! in love with this idea. I really like Savanah (courtney's character) would also like this idea XD ↳ username21 ikr! they looked so done with Brody and (y/c/n) lol

username12 that hug healed me ❤️

username30 someone reawaken be when pt.3 comes out, i refuse to live in a world where (name) and Spencer are not both canonically and irl together

username44 In love with this video concept. what about an alien invasion next time??

↳ smoshgames ✓ great idea! ↳ username44 omg! Smosh Games just replied to me ↳ smoshgames ✓ and we'll do it again 😉 ↳ username44 i can die happy now.

username23 shayne and courtney played so good characters. i was so incredibly invested in shayne and (name)'s romantic arch.

username40 must have been weird for courtney to see her husband flirting with another person... /sarcastic (i know they are all friends and that this is their job).

username76 would love to see Ian in the next series. his dark humour would hit differently. ❤️

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: you all are so cool, thank you for reading this! 😊

─ · · SPENCER AGNEW TAGLIST: @lisiliely @missflufffanfics @little-stitious-studios @thejourneyneverendsx @sibsteria @lizzylynch1

273 notes · View notes

ewanmitchellcrumbs · 9 months ago

Text

Cozened Indigo - Part Three

Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x f!reader Warnings: Mentions of murder, dark themes, smut, dubious consent, allusions to no consent. Dead dove; do not eat. Dear god, please mind the tags. Word count: ~9.6k

Summary: The article goes live and a verdict is delivered.

Author's note: I have put my journalism degree to use here, to ensure as much accuracy as possible. However, as Westeros is a fictional place, I have warped certain laws and regulations regarding court reporting for the purpose of the story. Please suspend your disbelief for the sake of a fictional tale. No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

“Rhaenyra has gotten wind of the fact that Aemond has spoken to the press, so now she’s doing an interview too – with White Knight Magazine.”

Larys’ words play on a loop in her mind as she sits heavily in her office chair, dread forming a pit in her stomach as anxiety flutters unbridled within her chest. Her interviews with Aegon and Helaena are set for tomorrow, she still has to do her background research on them both, alongside transcribing all of her interviews with Aemond. With just two weeks to do it all, and with Rhaenyra’s pending interview looming over it, it feels too huge an obstacle to overcome. She is being set up for failure, made all the more humiliating by the fact that the feature from the opposing side is to be featured in the publication that effectively put an end to her career. It has to be deliberate, there is no way it's a coincidence.

It’s not until she sees the droplet of moisture splatter upon her desk that she realises she’s crying. Burying her face in her hands, she draws in a shuddering breath, attempting to pull herself together.

Not here. Not in the office,

“Everything okay?”

Startled, her head snaps up to look at Royce, his features pinching into a look of concern as she sniffles and hurriedly wipes at her eyes.

“Doesn’t everyone cry at their desk occasionally?” She jokes, attempting to play it off with a watery laugh.

“Let’s step into my office,” he responds softly, not giving her a chance to reply as he turns and walks away.

She sighs, tipping her head back and uttering a quiet “fuck” before following him.

“Want to tell me what’s really going on?” Royce says, perching on the edge of his desk and folding his arms, as she closes the door behind her.

The weariness that has weighed upon her since her discovery of the upcoming Targaryen trial settles over her with a heavy finality, as she meets his gaze with exhausted resignation.

“I can’t do this, Royce. Put me back on the Flea Bottom curfew piece.”

“What? Why?!” He narrows his eyes, leaning forward slightly.

“Rhaenyra - Aemond’s half sister - is doing an interview of her own.”

“So?”

“With White Knight Magazine.”

“Ah.”

“The deadline is too tight, I’ll never be finished in time.” She sags against the office door, wrapping her arms around herself.

“What’s the hold up?”

Exasperatedly, she drags a hand through her hair. “I have all of my interviews with Aemond to transcribe still, and that’s before I even begin writing the piece. On top of that, I now have to interview Aegon and Helaena, and I–”

“Woah”, Royce interrupts, “the brother and sister have agreed to be interviewed by you?”

“Yes, tomorrow, and I haven’t even started my background research on them yet. What am I going to do?!”

Royce reaches behind him, lifting the box of Kleenex from his desk. He gently tosses it towards her and she catches it, smiling gratefully as she plucks one out to dab at her eyes and nose.

“You’re going to go home, and do your background research, and prepare for your interviews tomorrow. You can leave your transcription with me. I’ll do it for you.”

“You?” She looks at him wide eyed with incredulity, balling the tissue up in her fist. “You didn’t even want me working on this story in the first place, why would you want to help me?”

“It’s not entirely selfless”, he says with a shrug, “this feature will be huge for The Gazette, it’s in my best interests to make sure you get it done.”

“Makes sense,” she admits with a nod. “Thank you.”

“Send me your audio files,” he instructs, pushing himself back into a standing position, “and then go home and get to work. Your runny mascara is bad for office morale.”

Face given a thorough clean with a wet wipe, a few hours later she sits curled up on her sofa, her gaze fixed intently on her laptop. Royce offering to do her transcription for her has shifted some of the burden from her, and she feels lighter as she clicks through each of the articles she finds regarding Helaena and Aegon Targaryen.

Helaena seems like an anomaly within the family, a blinding white beacon of joy within an ocean of misery. She is heavily involved in environmental conservation, an activist for animal rights and has received several awards for her charitable work. If she has anything at all positive to say about her younger brother, then it would be a huge help to the article.

Aegon, on the other hand, is not quite so impressive. There is little to no evidence that she can find which alludes to his morality or personality, though if the photographs splashed across trashy tabloids of him drunkenly falling out of nightclubs, and parading down the street with an ever changing array of women on his arm are anything to go by, then it’s not good. There’s a small article regarding his brief stint in a rehab facility, which offers a glimmer of hope, but only the interview itself will tell for certain.

As her taxi drives slowly up the expansive and seemingly never ending driveway of the Targaryen-Hightower mansion the following morning, she is momentarily stunned by the grandiosity of it all. She had known the family was rich, but this seems obscene. The property is located on a hill in the centre of King’s Landing, which overlooks the city, serving as an unnecessary physical reminder of how far above everyone else the family is, or at least considers themselves to be.

Her driver had been buzzed through the main gate via an intercom on the drive up to the house, so she is surprised to find no one is waiting for her once she steps out of the car. Standing in front of the large, forest green front door she lifts the ring pull of the bronze dragon head knocker and raps it against the wood three times.

She shuffles from foot to foot, anxiously waiting. A full minute passes and she is about to knock again, when the door swings open. A mop of disheveled, wavy, silver blonde hair and tired blue eyes greet her as she looks into the face of Aegon Targaryen.

As her gaze travels downwards she sees he is dressed in only a pair of low riding grey jogging bottoms and a dark green robe, which isn’t tied. She falters, blinking rapidly and clearing her throat, as she looks back at his face. The lazy smirk painted across his features is unnerving.

“Mr. Targaryen?”

“Aegon,” he corrects her. “You the reporter?”

She nods, shifting her bag to the opposite shoulder. “Right…Aegon. Am I too early? Larys said 11am.”

He gives a slight shrug. “I must have gotten carried away with my beauty sleep. Guess you’d better come in.”

Aegon leaves the door open, padding on bare feet through the foyer. She follows him, eyes wide as she takes in the opulence of the high ceilings and expensive art that adorns the walls.

He leads her through to the kitchen, opening the double doors of a large silver refrigerator.

“Get you a beer?” He asks, pulling a bottle out before biting the cap off with his teeth.

She winces. “Not for me, thanks, bit early.”

He takes a drink, nodding as he mulls over her response. “I’d offer you a bloody mary, but we’re out of tomato juice.”

She is about to laugh, until she sees that he’s sincere, so bites back the urge. “Honestly, I’m fine. Got a water bottle in my bag.”

“Fair enough,” he utters, leaning forward on his elbows on the kitchen island as he sets the bottle down. “So, how does this work?”

“I just want to ask a few questions about your brother, Aemond. Have you got a place you’d like to go to do that?”

“Why not right here?”

She raises her eyebrows slightly, taken aback by the informality, before nodding. He watches her intently as she rummages in her bag, taking out her dictaphone and placing it on the granite surface that separates them. “Will we not be interrupted?”

“Nah, mum’s gone with grandad to visit Aemond. That’s why Larys set up the interview for today. They’re pissed off that he’s spoken to the press, so better for you to be here when they aren’t.”

She purses her lips, pushing down her unease, before nodding towards the dictaphone. “I need to record this. That okay?”

His gaze rests upon the recording device for a moment, before he takes another long swig of his beer. “Yeah,” he finally says.

She pulls out a wooden bar stool, sitting upon it before she presses record. “We’ll start with your childhood. What was Aemond like growing up?”

“A twat,” Aegon shoots back quickly, causing the corners of her mouth to turn up into the faintest of smiles.

“Can you elaborate?”

Aegon sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “He just…took everything really seriously. He never had a sense of humour about anything.”

“So, you didn’t like him?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“What are you saying?”

“He’s my brother, I love him, we’re just very different.”

“Different how?”

“Aemond is ambitious, he’s hard working. I’m not, I just want…”

She raises an eyebrow as he trails off. “You just want..?”

“To be happy,” he mutters.

“And are you?”

He scoffs. “I thought this interview was about my brother?”

“Do you think your brother was ever happy growing up?”

“He had his eye carved out of his skull when he was ten, of course he wasn’t!”

“By your nephew, Lucerys?”

Aegon’s brow furrows with anger, his tone dark and clipped. “Little shit got what was coming to him.”

Her breath catches in her throat, her blood turning icy in her veins as she stares at him, wide eyed. Slowly, with a shaky hand she reaches forward to press the stop button on the dictaphone.

Aegon drains the remnants of his beer, heavily setting the bottle back down and lowering his gaze as he grips the edge of the kitchen island.

When she eventually finds her voice, it comes out as a strained whisper. “Do you think Aemond killed him on purpose?”

His mouth quirks, eyes obscured slightly by the hair that has fallen into his face as he looks slowly back up at her. The air feels thick, and she realises she’s holding her breath as she waits for him to respond.

“Is this the lady that’s here to interview us?” A quiet voice comes from behind her.

She jumps, turning on her stool to look at the woman that hovers in the kitchen entryway, dressed in a white vest top and powder blue harem pants. Her hair falls in soft, loose, silver blonde waves almost to her waist, her eyes hold a faraway, dreamy quality. This must be Helaena.

Aegon nods. “Yeah, she was just interviewing me.”

“Oh…” Helaena deflates slightly, clasping her hands in front of. “I’ve interrupted.”

Her brother shakes his head, pushing away from the counter and walking from the kitchen. “No. No, you didn’t. We’d just finished, all yours.”

She watches him retreat, before turning her focus to his sister.

Well, that’s the end of that then.

“Hi,” Helaena says with a soft smile, extending her hand as she steps forward. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

She takes her hand, feeling the Targaryan woman noticeably flinch at the contact, giving it the briefest of shakes before letting go. “You must be Helaena.”

“I am,” she says nodding, clutching her hands in front of her once more. “Sorry about Aegon, he just has a hangover…he always has a hangover.”

Her gaze turns sad and she looks away. For a few seconds it seems as if she’s not even there anymore, and she wonders where she’s gone, before Helaena returns to the present and smiles once more.

“Shall we go up to my room?”

She trails after her up the stairs, looking at the antiquities that decorate the vast amount of space that makes up the house, until they reach Helaena’s bedroom. Stepping inside she is taken aback by the brightness of it, it feels like she has entered another universe separate from the darkened surrounds of the rest of the mansion.

Floral wallpaper adorns the walls, with a variation of frames containing pin mounted insects and butterflies. She turns to a shelving unit, picking up an expensive looking crystal beetle to examine it as it sparkles in the sunlight.

“This is beautiful,” she muses more to herself than Helaena.

“You like it?” She asks, causing her to look up, suddenly embarrassed at having handled a stranger’s belongings without asking.

“Sorry,” she replies, flustered, placing the beetle back on its shelf. “Never seen anything like it.”

“You can have it if you want,” Helaena quips with an easy shrug.

She blinks rapidly, unsure if she has heard her correctly. “Pardon?”

“If you like it, you should have it,” she tells her, sitting on the edge of her bed.

It’s a sweet gesture that comes from a place of childlike innocence, but is also indicative of how shockingly out of touch wealth makes people. Of course she doesn’t mind if she gives away something so expensive, not when the resource is there to easily replace it.

“That’s very kind, but I couldn’t,” she says, taking out her recorder. “I don’t want to intrude upon too much of your day. Shall we get started?”

Helaena is easier to interview than Aegon had been. She speaks kindly of Aemond, and as she listens she finds herself feeling more and more sad, not just for Aemond but for the entire family. Helaena had always wanted a sisterly relationship with Rhaenyra, but with a seventeen year age gap and Rhaenyra’s apparent resentment at no longer being an only child, it never happened. Where Aegon had often made fun of her, Aemond had been good to Helaena when they were growing up, patient and understanding of her tendency to daydream and fascination with insects.

“I don’t want my brother to go to prison,” she says sadly, “I just want us to be a family.”

“Do you think that that’s what Aemond wants too?”

“I don’t know what my brother wants anymore. I don’t think he knows himself.”

As her taxi drives her back towards home, dread settles in her stomach like a heavy stone. She can’t help but wonder what Aegon would have said if Helaena hadn’t interrupted them. There is no denying that the Targaryens are a family that are steeped in tragedy, but amidst it all something unseen and sinister lurks, looming with the sense that by the time she stumbles upon it, she’ll be too far in to back out.

“For you,” Royce says the following morning, depositing a USB drive onto her desk.

“Are those the transcriptions?” She asks, looking up at him with wide eyed wonder. “That was quick work.”

“It’s a tight deadline”, he replies with a smirk. “How did your interviews go yesterday?”

Little shit got what was coming to him.

She draws in a breath, unsure of what guides her actions. “I only interviewed Helaena in the end. Aegon was too hungover.”

“A shame, but one interview is better than nothing. Send me the audio and I’ll transcribe that for you too, so you can crack on with the writing.”

“You’re a lifesaver, thank you.”

“I know,” Royce says with a wink, before walking away.

She picks up her dictaphone, hovering over the audio file for Aegon’s interview.

Little shit got what was coming to him.

There is no way she can allow Royce to hear that, though she cannot put her finger on why. Before she has a chance to dwell on it further, she erases the recording and gets to work uploading Helaena’s to her computer, then emails it to Royce.

Over the following week, she works hard on the feature, painting a picture of the enigma that is Aemond Targaryen in his own words, as well as his sister’s. It’s a heart wrenching piece, a tale of a misfit little boy, maimed at the age of ten and left to live with the consequences of it. However, instead of collapsing into despair or falling back on a comfortable lifestyle, funded by his family’s fortune, he had studied hard and was an accomplished solicitor within his grandfather’s law firm. He had overcome his disability to train in athletic pursuits such as mixed martial arts and long distance running, and is knowledgeable in the fields of both history and philosophy. There is no denying that Aemond Targaryen is impressive, even without having to navigate the difficulties of losing an eye.

Once the article has been thoroughly vetted by Royce, it goes to print, landing on newsstands the exact same day as Rhaenyra’s interview in White Knight Magazine. Aemond cuts an imposing figure in the photograph used in the double page spread, a sinister presence in direct opposition with the content of the article. And still there is something that niggles at the back of her mind, a stone she has left unturned. Was she right to omit Aegon’s interview? She supposes it is of little consequence, it’s too late now.

White Knight is a larger publication, so occupies a more prominent shelf space than the Duskendale Gazette. However, upon news spreading that a feature with the elusive Targaryen second son is contained within its pages, it sells out quickly, with an urgent extra print run needing to be made to supply the demand for more copies, despite additional copies having been printed in the first place, in anticipation of the article’s popularity. But they hadn’t anticipated just how popular the feature would be.

As she stands in the newsagents, looking at both publications on the shelf, she is struck by the thought that this presents itself as forcing the public to choose a side, despite neither article making mention of the murder or impending trial.

She reads Rhaenyra’s feature, and cannot help but feel sympathy for her. A young woman whose world was rocked when her best friend had married her father after her mother had died, and then made to feel displaced by the children that that relationship had produced. Already having to deal with the animosity that divides the family in the wake of her father’s death, she now must cope with the grief of losing her son.

Whose side should she choose? She wishes more than anything that Aegon had answered her question, it would doubtless make for an easier decision.

Her phone buzzing in her pocket pulls her out of her reverie and she huffs an irritated sigh as she sees Larys’ name flashing on her screen. She had assumed her dealings with him would be over once the article went to print. It appears she was wrong.

“Nice work,” he drawls into the receiver once she’s answered. “You’ve painted quite the picture.”

“Has he seen it?”

“Aemond? Yes, I ensured he received a copy this morning. He’s pleased with how it’s turned out. That’s why I’m calling, actually.”

“The article’s published, what more is there to say?”

Larys clicks his tongue, his tone dripping with condescension. “Now, now, we did you a favour in letting you run this feature. You’ll have every publication in Westeros beating down your door to commission you after today. Don’t you think a little gratitude is in order?”

“Gratitude?!” She snipes back. “Isn't it enough that I’ve painted a rosy picture of a…”

Murderer.

She can’t bring herself to say the word, there is still a seed of doubt in her mind, yet Larys knows what she means regardless.

“Alleged,” he corrects her. “All Aemond wants to do is say thank you, surely a phone call couldn’t hurt?”

“Do not give him my phone number,” she seethes.

“Very well. But you’ll be at the trial?”

“It’s a closed courtroom.”

“It is. Selected press only, to avoid it becoming a media circus, but I can get you on the list.”

“I’m not supposed to be covering the trial.”

“And you won’t be, don’t worry, I can still get you in.”

“You’ve come this far. May as well see it through to the end.”

Aemond’s words echo in her mind, and she relents with a sigh. It’s not as if she isn’t curious. “Alright, fine.”

“Excellent. See you then.”

The line goes dead.

The trial is to last three days. A day for the prosecution to deliver their testimonies, a day for the defense to present their case, and a day for the jury to deliberate and then pass their verdict, with subsequent sentencing from the judge. Rhaenyra is pushing for a murder sentence, while the other side of the family argue it was an accident.

The tightly wound knots of dread that have made their home inside of her over the last month are prominent as ever as she arrives at the courthouse on the first day. She is ushered in after giving her name, though not towards the sparsely populated press seats as she had assumed she would be.

Bile rises acridly in her throat, her eyes widening in horror as she realises she is being led towards the public gallery to sit with Aemond’s side of the family. Despite wanting to remain neutral, she is being given a side, without the option to choose, though deep down she knows she had subconsciously made her choice the moment she decided to interview Aemond. The idea makes her feel nauseated.

The entire family is tense as she takes a seat next to them. Aegon side eyes her uncomfortably, while Helaena, though she forces a smile, is fidgety and withdrawn. It’s clear she would rather be anywhere but here. Otto bristles at the sight of her, rising slightly from his seat, before Alicent places a hand on his forearm, urging him back down again.

“Aemond wants her here,” she whispers, patting her father’s hand as he sighs and turns his gaze ahead.

Despite defending her presence, the Hightower matriarch doesn’t acknowledge her, keeping her eyes fixed upon her nails, which look red raw around the edges.

An eerie silence falls over the courtroom as Aemond is led out towards the dock, accompanied by a prison officer. He is stony raised as he is seated, keeping his attention fixed on a far point towards the back of the room, though she is certain that for just a second she sees his eye flicker to her, the briefest of smirks tugging at the corners of his mouth. Her stomach somersaults and she forces herself to look away. When she looks back, he’s staring towards the back of the courtroom once more.

“All rise for the honourable Judge Wylde,” a member of staff calls out, and she stands with everyone else, watching as the judge sweeps into the courtroom, taking a seat at the bench, before they are all instructed to sit once more.

Rhaenyra’s solicitor, Erryk Cargyll, delivers the opening statement for the prosecution’s case, claiming that his client has grounds to believe that the death of her son was deliberate and premeditated.

The hours feel as though they drag by as statements are delivered by Rhaenyra, her sons, Jacaerys and Joffrey, and her husband, Laenor. Though all are clearly emotional, and still reeling from the death of Lucerys, none of them actually saw what happened. The evidence is all purely circumstantial, with nothing concrete. Rhaenyra appears visibly distressed, and her heart aches for her knowing that Larys is likely to tear her apart during his questioning.

She isn’t wrong. Larys’ questions hinge upon the fact that her dislike for her half siblings is what guides her judgements and he repeatedly asks if she saw what happened. She appears flustered, stumbling over her words, growing more emotional as the questioning grows more pointed.

Looking over at Alicent, she sees a harrowed look in her eyes, her expression solemn as she stares wide eyed at her former friend from the public gallery, gripping her father’s hand tightly. It is awful to watch, and she is desperate to leave.

Unsurprisingly, Aemond is calm and collected as he is questioned by both Larys and Erryk, keeping his answers clipped and simple. Saying that he had been eager to get away from the family gathering, and had not seen Lucerys as he’d struck him in his haste to drive off. He never falters, even under the heated cross examination from Erryk, asking if he’d been motivated by the injury sustained as a child in his killing of Lucerys. Aemond replies with a simple “no, it was an accident”,

By the time the court is adjourned for the day, she is exhausted both mentally and emotionally. She feels for Rhaenyra, it is clear to see how much she loves her son, and she just wants justice for him. Yet her case is flimsy, and she knows that Aemond’s defense will deal the killing blow tomorrow. On the other hand, Aemond could be telling the truth, in which case, horrible as it is, is it fair that he should be hauled over the coals for an accident? He’ll serve a prison sentence either way.

Despite her tiredness, sleep does not come easy for her that night, knowing she will have to do this all again tomorrow.

The following day, as she’d expected, the defence tears apart Rhaenyra’s case, especially when they call Dr. Orwyle to the witness stand. He is apparently the doctor that had treated Aemond when he initially lost his eye, and had helped him with pain management and rehabilitation in the years that followed.

The doctor’s statement deduces that Aemond’s lack of depth perception means it is not advisable for him to drive at night, due to reduced visibility, so it is entirely plausible he would not have seen Lucerys at all as he’d driven away.

Larys’ closing statement underscores it all; “so, you see your honour, my client was in such emotional distress that evening that he felt he had no choice but to leave. It was an honest accident. Is Aemond Targaryen careless? Yes. But a killer? No.”

“Fucking liar!” Rhaenyra cries out, jumping to her feet, her voice fraught with emotion.

“Order!” Judge Wylde shouts across the courtroom.

She bows her head, drawing in a withering sigh. The trial is over, it’s just the verdict and sentencing to go now.

When she looks back up, a shiver runs the length of her spine; Aemond is staring directly at her. He’s smiling.

She allows her curiosity to get the better of her, once the court is adjourned for the day, catching up to Aegon as he walks from the courtroom. He whips around as she gently grabs his arm, his brows knitting together in confusion as he looks at her.

“I’ll never hear the end of it from Mum, if she sees me talking to you,” he mutters, attempting to pull away.

“I know,” she says, stepping in front of him to block his path, “but I’ll be quick. I just need to know, when I asked you the other day if you thought Aemond had killed Luceys on purpose, what would you have said if Helaena hadn’t interrupted us?”

Aegon sighs, rolling his eyes as he steps around her. “I think you already knew the answer to that when you omitted my interview. It doesn’t matter really though, does it?” He says to her, as he begins walking away. “He’s going to prison either way.”

His words bring her little comfort, and she stands, watching with unease, as he descends the steps at the front of the building. In a sense, he is right, it doesn’t matter now, and her article is already published. She hates herself for it.

She feels sick with nerves the following day, as the final closing statements are read out, and she’s unsure why. Aemond is nothing to her, and yet she feels that she has played a part in this all the same, will somehow be responsible for whatever verdict is reached, whether it’s the right one or not.

The faces of Rhaenyra, Laenor and Jacaerys are sullen and angry on one side of the courtroom, while Alicent and Helaena look fraught with worry. Otto and Aegon sit stony faced and impassive.

It takes the jury just one hour to reach their verdict.

The clerk of the court calls out, “Will the foreman of the jury please stand? Have you reached a verdict on which you are all agreed?”

When the foreman answers in the affirmative, the clerk continues. “On the first count in the indictment, murder in the first degree, do you find the accused guilty or not guilty?”

“Not guilty.”

Rhaenyra collapses into Laenor’s arms with a sob, as Jacaerys jumps to his feet, shouting obscenities. It’s not until Judge Wylde threatens to have him removed that order is restored in the court, and the verdict can continue.

She looks to Aemond, sitting in the dock, his gaze lowered, the silver strands of his hair obscuring his face, so she’s unable to see his reaction, but she can tell from the movement of his wrists that he’s fiddling with his fingers. Is he nervous? He has been so stoic throughout this entire process, to see him falter is unnerving. She finds herself unable to look away as the final verdict is read out.

“On the second count in the indictment, manslaughter, do you find the accused guilty or not guilty?”

“Guilty.”

Aemond looks to his mother as the verdict is read out, her brown eyes doleful and filled with tears as she gazes back at him. Rhaenyra storms from the courtroom, the heavy wooden double doors flinging wide open as she departs, quickly followed by Laenor and Jacaerys.

“He’s going to prison,” Helaena whispers sadly.

“That was always going to happen,” Aegon retorts with a heavy sigh.

When the judge passes a sentence of ten years, Alicent buries her face in her hands and sobs.

“He’ll be out in five, if he behaves himself”, Otto says quietly, in an attempt to reassure her.

“But our family is torn apart forever,” she whispers tearfully.

She has seen all she needs to see, and cannot stomach watching or hearing anymore. Rising from her seat, she hurries from the courtroom and outside to the top of the steps, sucking in steadying breaths to help calm the rising panic within her.

Her obligation to Aemond is complete, so she doesn’t understand why this has affected her the way it has. Likely the result of being trapped in such a toxic setting for the last three days, which makes her all the more determined to get away.

Pulling out her phone, she is about to open the taxi app, when Larys calls to her from the entryway of the courthouse. “He’d like to see you.”

“What?!” She asks incredulously, turning to look at him with a scowl. “What for?!”

“To say thank you, and goodbye. You rejected the offer of a phone call, perhaps you can give Aemond a few moments of your time to say his piece in person?”

“I’ve just given three days of my life watching a grieving mother be made a mockery of for his benefit, don’t you think he’s had enough from me already?”

“I can get you into the holding room for a few minutes, before his family go to see him, ahead of him being transferred back to Dragonstone. Just a few minutes, and then all of this is behind you. He has asked to see you specifically.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose exasperatedly. “You aren’t going to take no for an answer, are you?”

Aemond would look handsome in the all black, expensively tailored suit he’d worn for court, were it not for the handcuffs that bind his wrists together, reminding her that he’s a convicted criminal.

“Speak then,” she says, as she sits down opposite him.

“I just wanted to say thank you, truly, for the article you wrote. You really are a talented writer, and I’m sure great things are in store for you.”

She purses her lips, humming in acknowledgement, uncomfortable with the compliment. “That’s quite alright.”

“I really enjoyed our chats together. I’m going to miss them.”

She frowns, not at the words themselves, but the fact that they are sincere. He means what he’s saying. “It was for a professional purpose,” she insists.

He shakes his head, leaning forward against the table. “I know you enjoyed them too.”

She shifts uncomfortably in her chair. “Well, they’re over now.”

“They don’t have to be,” he says with a shrug, “ten years is a long time, plenty of time for us to chat.”

She leans back, away from him, the familiar weight of dread settling over her once more. “Aemond, I don’t think that’s a–”

He lurches forward across the table, grabbing her forearm, almost painfully so, his tone desperate and pleading. “Say you’ll come to visit me!”

She is unsure of whether it’s because there’s a part of her that secretly wants to, because she can’t bear to see the look of anguish in his eye any longer, or if she just wants him to let go of her so she can leave, but she finds herself whispering back in a trembling voice “okay, I will”.

It is not a promise she keeps.

Larys had been right, her article about Aemond is the spark that reignites her career. In the weeks following the publication of the feature, her email inbox had been inundated with offers of work from editors across a variety of different media outlets.

She had spent a long time chained to a desk at “The Wall” of the Duskendale Gazette, she did not much fancy swapping one static position for another. Eager to spread her wings, she had handed in her notice, despite Royce’s offer of a promotion. She craved freedom, and with her pick of what publications to write for, she made a successful career of freelancing. Over the next few years she had articles published in broadsheet newspapers and glossy, high end magazines alike, covering current events and interviewing high profile public figures. She made a comfortable living, until eventually she accepted the job of commissioning editor at Gold Cloak, a fashion and lifestyle magazine with a huge circulation and an even larger salary. She is almost able to put to the back of her mind the person who put her there in the first place. Almost.

In the months following Aemond’s sentencing, she had received several calls from an unknown number. On the one occasion she had picked up, it had begun with the automated message “an inmate from Dragonstone Prison is trying to reach you…” She had hung up immediately, her heart lurching, remembering she had said she would visit him, but knowing full well she couldn't. Not because of the morality of the situation, but because of how strong her desire to go actually was. That was a part of her she was eager to suppress. As the calls had continued, she had eventually opted to change her number, and after that they had stopped.

Aemond Targaryen is no more than a meager itch at the back of her mind now. It has been five years since she last spoke to him.

The sunshine warms her skin through the glass of the café window as she sits at the rounded wooden table, leaning back in her chair as her eyes scan over the article she has just had emailed to her. Deadline day is approaching for Gold Cloak, as they gear up to go to print with their next issue, and the last few stragglers are finally submitting their copy. It’s an odd sensation to be appraising the words of others, instead of writing her own, but she’s worked hard to get to this point, and it’s satisfying to be in a position where she is considered senior enough to dictate the contents of a major publication, not just contribute towards it.

Making the most of a work from home day, she has elected to visit her local coffee shop, watching the world pass by on a busy side street of King’s Landing, while the spicy aroma of her chai latte comforts her as she works.

She frowns when the sunlight she had been enjoying morphs into muted darkness. Her breath hitches, and she lets out a frightened gasp as she looks up to see Aemond standing over her.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he says softly, “I saw you as I was passing and I wanted to say hello.”

His words do little to comfort her, and her eyes desperately scan the coffee shop. It’s relatively busy, with lots of people, witnesses. Good.

He smirks. “I’m not here to hurt you, don’t worry.”

She swallows thickly, shifting to sit fully upright in her seat. “What are you–”

“I only served half my sentence, I was let out on good behaviour. I’m not an escapee, if that’s what’s worrying you.”

“Right, right…” she mutters, attempting to get her thoughts in order as her heart feels like it’s set upon hammering its way out of her chest.

“Mind if I sit?” Aemond says, gesturing to the empty seat opposite hers. “Might make you feel better if I’m not looming over you.”

What can she say? She looks around the café again, deciding she doesn’t want to cause a scene. “Yeah, sure.”

He pulls out the chair, sitting opposite her. Aemond is not quite as intimidating as she remembers him, though she supposes the only time she’d ever seen him before was in prison sweats or dressed for court. Today, as the sun dapples across his pale skin, he looks softer somehow, not nearly as scary as she’d once thought. His long silver blonde hair is pulled up into a low bun, and he’s dressed casually in a black leather jacket, a dark green henley and black slacks tucked into black Doc Martens.

She closes her laptop, perching her elbows on the edge of the table and resting her chin on her hands as she looks at him.

“I’m sorry I never–”

“So what are you–”

They both pause, smiling awkwardly as they begin to talk over each other, before Aemond gestures towards her. “You first.”

She nods, leaning back again, drumming her fingers softly on the table. “I never did come to visit you. I’m sorry.”

He shrugs out of his jacket, letting it drape across the back of the chair. “It was wrong of me to ask you, to be honest,” he admits, “I’d just never opened up to anyone like that before, and though I knew the consequences of the accident, none of it really felt like it was happening until it did. I panicked.”

The accident.

She finds it odd that he refers to in such a way, but he seems so different now, less tense, and she feels herself beginning to relax. Perhaps it really was an accident?

Wrapping her hands around her cup in a bid to ground herself, she nods. “So how long have you been out?”

“A few weeks,” he tells her, his hands coming to rest upon the table as he turns a stray sugar packet around in his fingers. “It’s been a bit of an adjustment.”

“You’re looking well through,” she blurts, before she has time to stop herself.

He smirks and she feels her skin grow hot as he retorts “I could say the same about you.”

She clears her throat, eager to switch gears in the conversation. “So, are you gonna grab a coffee, or are you just passing through?”

“Well, actually, since I’ve run into you, I wondered if perhaps you’d like to join me for something stronger?”

She raises her eyebrows. She knows it’s a bad idea, the trouble is the voice telling her that is not as loud as the one screaming at her to say yes.

“What are you having?” Aemond asks as they stand at the bar of Maegor’s Holdfast.

“Glass of Rioja, please.”

Aemond nods, turning to the bartender. “Bottle of Rioja and two glasses, please.”

“A whole bottle?!” She hisses, as the bartender moves away to fetch their order.

Aemond gives an easy shrug. “We’re both having the same thing, it makes more sense to share a bottle, than two separate glasses.”

“So, what are you doing with yourself these days?” Aemond asks, as they sit in a cosy corner of the pub, sipping their wine.

“Working, mostly,” she tells him, “I’m commissioning editor for Gold Cloak Magazine.”

“Impressive,” he says, raising his glass to her. “You’ve done well for yourself.”

“Thanks to you,” she replies quietly, a heated feeling of shame feeling as though it envelopes her. She’s keen to change the subject. “So, what’s going on with you?”

“I can’t return to Red Keep Legal, I’m no longer allowed to practice law. I figured I’d study in another field, maybe history or philosophy, see where that takes me. I’m living back with my mother until I get back on my feet.”

“How’s the family?”

“Mother is okay. Fussing over me far too much now that I’m back. Grandfather has retired, he’s gone back to Oldtown, got himself a nice little cottage. It’s fairly quiet at the house, feels empty.”

“Are Helaena and Aegon not there anymore?”

Aemond shakes his head, taking a long sip of wine before speaking again. “Helaena’s currently overseas in Qarth, doing a conservation study on some sort of beetle. Aegon’s gone to Braavos, he’s decided a life by the sea suits him better now that he’s sober.”

“Aegon’s sober?!”

“Yeah, it surprised me too. Apparently his drinking got quite a lot worse after I was put away. Mother finally had enough and forced him back to rehab. It stuck this time.”

“Good for him. I’m pleased.”

“Hmm. Enough about my family, I want to know all about your new job. Tell me everything.”

Over the next few hours, they fall into effortless conversation, and as one bottle of wine turns into two, it’s easy to forget the nature of their unusual relationship, it feels as though she’s chatting with an old friend.

She tells him all about the freelance work she’s undertaken over the last few years, as well as how she found herself with a job offer from Gold Cloak. They chat about music, films, share jokes and anecdotes, though always careful to avoid mention of Aemond’s incarceration or anything related to it. Aemond is witty, oddly charming and fiercely intelligent, if she hadn't interviewed him in the wake of his nephew’s murder then she could definitely see him as someone she’d be attracted to.

As she drains her final glass of wine, the second empty bottle calling out like a beacon that it’s time to go home, she feels fuzzy headed, her eyes and limbs heavy.

Oh shit, I’m drunk.

She stumbles as she rises from her seat, and Aemond places a steadying hand on her arm, the warmth she sees in his smile as he looks down at her taking her breath away. He looks nothing like a killer, just an ordinary man.

“Come on,” he says, offering her his arm, “I’ll walk you home.”

It doesn’t occur to her to ask how he knows where she lives as he walks her back to her block of flats. Her mind feeling thick from the effects of the wine, she doesn’t resist when he leans down, his lips pressing against hers as he steps her backwards over the threshold of her front door.

He dominates the kiss, the taste of red wine upon his lips potent and sweet. He holds her tight against him, his mouth devouring hers. Their movements are needy and desperate as her hands help to push his jacket from his shoulders and it drops to the floor, along with her laptop bag, with a soft thump. It’s enough to temporarily break her out of her passionate haze and she pulls back reluctantly, her voice a shaky whisper.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Hmmm, and yet it’s happening anyway,” he replies huskily, his hand coming to rest at the back of her neck as he kisses her hungrily once more, his tongue licking greedily at hers.

Every part of her mind that is screaming at her to stop is silenced by his lips, all sense and inhibitions dulled by alcohol. Having been career focused for so long, her love life has taken a backseat, she can’t remember the last time anyone touched her like this. It’s exhilarating to feel wanted, desired, and so she loses herself in the sensation, her mouth moving against his with equal enthusiasm as they stumble back towards the sofa.

He presses her into the plushness of the cushions, the pair of them hastily kicking off their shoes, before he settles on top of her. He trails hot, open mouthed kisses over her jaw and neck, before bringing a hand to the front of her blouse, a quick flick of his wrist tears it open, sending buttons clattering onto the glass top surface of the nearby coffee table.

Before she is able to protest, she is silenced once more by the feel of his mouth upon her, lavishing attention to the swell of her breasts, visible over the tops of the cups of her bra. How is he able to do that, to obliterate all of her thoughts through mere touch alone? It’s dizzying, and her breaths quicken, turning to soft pants as his path continues downwards, leaving a blazing trail in its wake as he shifts his lips to her stomach. His hands roughly tug down her leggings, as he pulls away, tossing them carelessly over his shoulder once they’re all the way off.

As he rests on his haunches over her, she is painfully aware of the imbalance; he kneels before her, fully dressed, while she is beneath him in just her underwear. She squirms slightly in embarrassment, feeling her skin grow heated.

It’s as if he’s able to read her mind, his lips twitching with the ghost of a smirk as his seeing eye stares her down, darkened with arousal. Grabbing the hem of his shirt he tugs it up over his head, allowing it to follow the same path her leggings had.

She feels her core throb with want as her gaze travels down his bare torso. Lean, lithe hardened muscle defines his chest and abdomen in a way that she has only ever seen before in Grecian statues. He descends upon her again, not giving her the opportunity to admire him for long, covering her body with his own as he captures her lips again, his teeth nipping delicately at her bottom lip.

His knee nudges its way between her legs, pushing against her through the lace of her knickers, and she whines into the kiss, her mind immediately racing back to all the times his knee had bumped hers during their interviews. Is this what he’d wanted all along? The idea makes her pulse thrum and her blood run hot. It’s sick and twisted, but she can’t find herself to care, not when the friction of his actions feels so agonisingly addictive.

His lips pull away from hers, and his hand snakes between their bodies, taking up the space his knee had occupied until just a moment ago. He cups her mound through the fabric of her underwear, humming in satisfaction as she bucks her hips against his palm, chasing the pressure his knee had given her.

“Eager little thing,” he whispers darkly, hooking a finger into the elastic of her gusset and tugging it to one side.

It isn’t until the coolness of the air hits her bare flesh that she realises just how wet she is, and she’d feel ashamed were it not for the fact she can see Aemond’s pupil dilate at the sight of it.

He teases the pads of his fingers through her folds, spreading the stickiness of her arousal from her sensitive bud to her opening and back again. Her breath hitches at the sensation, every nerve ending in her body feeling as though it’s aflame.

“You’re soaking,” he murmurs, eye flickering up to meet hers.

She opens her mouth to respond, but before she can get the words out, he’s bringing his fingers away from her core and pushing them past her lips and into her mouth. She mewls around his digits at the tart taste of herself upon her tongue, and as he takes her hand, bringing it forward to cup the hardness of him through his trousers, she finds herself sucking on them, palming at him eagerly simultaneously.

He groans quietly, pressing himself against her touch. “Good girl.”

Withdrawing his fingers from her mouth and swatting her hand away gently, he unbuckles his belt, leaning back over her as he unbuttons and unzips his trousers, pushing them down along with his boxers just enough to free his erection.

She cannot see it, but the feel of it, heavy and leaking, pressing against her entrance is enough to have her walls clenching, eager to take him inside. The initial stretch to accommodate him as he presses forward causes them both to sigh softly in unison, his brows furrowing with exertion as he pushes all the way in to the hilt. The fullness of it makes her ache, and she rolls her hips impatiently, desperate for him to move.

“So needy,” he chastises quietly.

“Please,” is all she’s able to whimper in response.

His hand moves to the back of her head, grabbing a fistful of her hair and gripping it tightly. He holds her in place, so she has no choice but to look at him as he drags his hips back before snapping them forward again.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

She should stop this, they’ve gone too far already, but the buzz of the wine is still coursing its way through her, and with every brush of the head of his cock against the sensitive spot deep inside of her, the urge to put an end to what’s happening rapidly fades.

Her legs tangle with his, as she meets him thrust for thrust. He is slow to withdraw, but quick to slam forward again, driving him impossibly deep into her. His grip on her hair and the forced eye contact make it almost too much to bear. The intensity with which he looks at her, studies the contortions of pleasure her features morph into, is torturous, yet she never wants it to end.

Clinging to him tightly, her fingernails dig crescent moons into the flesh of his shoulder blades, his jaw beginning to slacken as with every push forward she feels him pulsate. He’s getting close, and she is too, the tell tale tensing of her thighs and quivering inside of her letting her know she’s edging closer to her peak.

She is desperate to turn her face away, not wanting to be staring directly into his eye as she falls apart, but Aemond’s grip on her hair is iron clad, she cannot move her head. With one last push forward, she tightens and spasms around him, a broken cry escaping her as she stares at him, eyes wide and brows knitted together as warm waves of pleasure ripple through her.

Something akin to a growl rumbles in Aemond’s throat, and she feels him still, knowing he’s about to reach his own end. Not wanting her own ecstasy to be short lived by him pulling out, she is quick to reassure him in a breathy whisper.

“I’m on the pill.”

“I know,” he groans, before letting go, spilling himself inside of her with a grunt. He lets go of her hair, burying his face into the crook of her neck as his body shudders, his length twitching and pulsing within her sensitive heat.

They remain tangled together for a few moments, both breathing heavily as they attempt to recover and slowly come back down to earth. As the blissful fog begins to lift, she is struck by a realisation.

I know.

“How do you know I’m on the pill?” She asks, her voice quiet and hoarse.

Aemond lays quiet for a moment, his breaths warm and moist against the flesh of her neck as they calm. When he eventually pulls back and looks at her, there’s something different in the way he looks at her. His stare is cold, almost crazed, similar to what she had seen the day they’d first met in the visitors room of Dragonstone Prison.

“I know everything about you,” he says with a soft smile, that doesn’t play upon the rest of his features.

Her heart lurches in her chest, fear turning her blood icy, the effects of the wine disappearing entirely as she’s left starkly sobered.

“What do you mean?” She asks quietly.

He hums thoughtfully, brushing her hair away from her face in a gesture that could be considered affectionate, were it not for the sudden change in atmosphere.

“I suppose there’s no point in keeping secrets, not now we know each other so…intimately,” he muses. “I enjoyed our talks together, I wanted them to continue, but when it became clear to me that that wasn’t reciprocated, I needed a way to continue to keep in touch. So I had you watched, followed, everything you did was reported back to me. It’s made the last five years more bearable still having a connection to you. It’s been better still being able to keep tabs myself over the last few weeks.”

Tears prickle her eyes, a wave of nausea sweeping over her. “You’re sick!”

“Am I?” He asks, cocking his head as he strokes her hair absentmindedly. “Or is that you? Because for me, our little tryst seems perfectly normal, an inevitability, considering my interest in you. However, for you, you barely know me. I’m someone you interviewed half a decade ago, and you opened your legs for me the very same day I happened to make you aware I was back in your life. I’d say that makes you a whore.”

“Get off!” She cries, squirming beneath him, attempting to push him off. The thought that his softening member is still nestled within her has her reeling with disgust. He is stronger than she is though, and refuses to budge, keeping her right where she is, as he grips her jaw tightly, forcing her to look at him.

“Behave,” he hisses, “you’ve seen what happens to people who anger me. You sat through an entire trial for it.”

“That was manslaughter,” she says in a trembling voice, a tear trickling down her cheek.

“That’s what I was sentenced for, yes, but I’ll tell you a secret…I saw Lucerys, and I drove my car towards him anyway.”

He laughs softly, as he gazes down at her, her eyes widened in horror, as her chest heaves. “His expression was rather similar to yours, actually, when he realised what was about to happen.”

“You’re a murderer,” she sobs, frantically trying to push him off of her.

“Oh, darling,” he soothes mockingly, “but you did such a wonderful job of portraying me as otherwise.”

“What are you going to do to me?!” She asks, panic fluttering acridly up from her chest and into her throat.

“Nothing at all, if you don’t overreact. Don’t get any funny ideas about going to the police either.”

“What?!”

“I don’t think your career could withstand such an enormous blunder, not a second time anyway. Imagine how that would look, the second time you’ve painted a criminal as a saint, and not only that but this time you’ve slept with him. That would be quite the fall from grace.”

He pins her wrists above her head, though all the fight has left her, she sags beneath him, hot tears flowing freely down her cheeks. “I can’t believe this…”

“Believe it,” he hisses. “You’ve built your career on the back of me, and I think it’s about time you repay the favour. For five years you’ve enjoyed success, all thanks to me, while I rotted in prison. You owe me.”

“What do you want from me?” She asks weakly.

“Nothing I haven’t had already,” he tells her, leaning down to run the tip of her nose against her cheek. “Be sweet to me, and I’ll be sweet to you, because if you try to take me down over this, I can guarantee you have much more to lose than I do.”

Her stomach turns, her eyes closing in defeat. There is no escape from this, she simply has to accept her fate or endure mutually assured destruction.

Aemond’s expression has softened when she opens her eyes again. His hands move from her wrists to her hands, entwining their fingers. “There she is,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “No more tears now, you’ll spoil all the fun we’re going to have together.”

This is a nightmare, This is a nightmare. Wake up.

As she feels him harden inside of her once more, the heartbreaking realisation that she’s not dreaming settles over her. This is a waking nightmare, and it’s only just beginning.

Part two || Series masterlist

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tojiscrack · 1 year ago

Text

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐍

pairing: megumi fushiguro x reader

summary: 18k words — you and megumi meet for the first time and experience kindergarten together.

notes: this is the fic i’ve been working on for a little while. a childhood friends to lovers with megumi because he’s so underrated (and deserves better!!). updates will be slow, but only because the chapters will range from 10-12k and maybe even more. check the tags to see if this story will interest you — i’ll make sure to add the tropes, what to expect, and the general gist of it all <3 enjoy! here is also sneak peak (a small scene from some of the future chapters) to be certain that this is the story for you :)))

tw: slightly bad english in dialogue (done on purpose as the characters presented are kids), y/n (she deserves her own warning), and idk, offended gojo

i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.

next chapter :)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

2007-2008 kindergarten

you sat on the floor, the rough carpet scratching up against your shorts as you flattened out your skirt in preparation for your story-telling. the loud giggles around you had quietened notably. your classmates sat in a full circle, all facing you with contained anticipation and exhilaration. kimberly garnett sat with a fist in her mouth, grinning widely at you. malakai abara sat on his knees, bent forward with a smile on his face as he twisted the little dreads on his head with his small finger. the rest of the kids simply awaited, laughing as you reached for the toy torch and held it beneath your chin.

silently, you flipped the switch on... or rather struggled to flip the switch on. you heard several sighs from around you as you took the time to figure out what the issue was, until at last, the light had turned on (and blinded you in the process).

clearing your throat, you sat up straighter, eyes half-lidded as your story began:

"a long, long time ago, far away, once upon a time, there was a girl... and her name was bloody mary," you began, slowly. the other kids watched you with wide eyes. "she was killed by some bad guy. and then he trapped her inside a mirror."

"but how?" ayaan miah had asked, looking fearful.

you regarded him with little care.

"none of your beeswax, anyways! erm — so basically — erm — oh my god, ayaan! look what you done! now i can't remember!"

every kid in the circle whined and moaned out ayaan's name, frustrated at the boy's interruption. you shut your eyes, attempting to remember, and when you had opened them, you had been met with ayaan's flushed brown skin. you decided that you would save him then, seeing as you had remembered the story once more.

"wait guys, it's fine. i remember now."

everyone sighed in relief, their smiles returned.

"okay, so..." you sighed. "now when kids are being very bad, my mommy says that if you go in the mirror and say 'bloody mary' three times and then you spin around — then — then — then she's gonna come out and then she's gonna get her long nails and then she's — she's gonna try and kill you. and then there's gonna be so much blood."

your eyes passed each and every one of their faces, scanning their features; they looked traumatised.

from the corner of your eye, you caught slight movement. immediately, your head turned in that direction, met with the sight of amira khalil shakily raising her hand. it seemed that she had wanted permission to speak — you nodded your head at her, encouraging her to voice her thoughts.

"is there any way to save yourself?" she said timidly.

her wise question had led the rest of the kids to nod and look at you with big, curious eyes, seemingly pleased with her question and wondering what the answer would be.

you thought for a moment, scratching your head and accidentally moving the hair clip your mother had placed in your hair. you quickly adjusted it and then placed both your hands on the torch again, ready to answer.

"so, basically, you can pretend to die," you told them carefully. you did not like how the smiles on their faces had returned, looking satisfied with your response.

the kids had immediately begun speaking to each other, excitedly having discussions about how bloody mary was not ever going to be able to get them now that they had found a solution. you narrowed your eyes at them, a sneer on your face as you loudly interrupted the discussions.

"but!" you had said loudly. their attention was back on you, frowns forming and smiles disappearing. that's better, you had thought to yourself. "not to bubble your burst... but — but — like, she can get her finger and put it underneath your nose to see if you're breathing. and you can't hold your breath because she will hold it there for a long time," you added quickly as the smartest kid in your class (alexa clement) opened her mouth to put in her input. she had shut it as soon as the last word had been uttered.

kimberly garnett had long since taken her fist out of her mouth, not looking nearly as content as she had once been when she had first taken a seat across from you on the carpet.

"i think i'm scared..." she said, hesitantly.

you nodded, chin in the air. "yeah, you should be. but i'm not scared."

"huh?" gasped david yeboah, mouth parted in shock (similar to the rest of the kids in the circle). "how? what if she comes to kill you if you call her?"

you had your answer prepared since the moment you had stepped past the doors of the kindergarten building that morning.

"um — she — she's my friend, so — um — she won't kill me. and she said that if you guys don't give me your toys, then she will kill you," you explained, watching as they had all started scrambling to find their toys and place them by your feet.

another successful story-telling day.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

tired of playing with the same old toys, your boredom had reached its peak and you had decided that you would venture about and find something else to do. standing up, you stretched out your little legs and went waddling over to the toy box, searching for anything else to dig out and begin entertaining yourself with.

the toy box had been placed opposite to the teachers desk (which was also situated beside the interactive whiteboard). the rest of the room had five separate group tables leaving the centre of the room empty and bare (space for you and your classmates to sit on the floor when miss huckleberry would sing a nursery rhyme or read a boring story book).

the toys were not appealing to the eye, but you had just seen elena holland playing with a princess doll — you wanted it. it looked pretty, and squinting your eyes from a distance told you that the princess was actually rapunzel.

you wanted it even more now. rapunzel was the best disney princess in your opinion. you wanted that doll.

elena holland had always sat and listened to your scary stories, she had quietly listened to every single one of them since the first ever group circle had been initiated. therefore, by default, the doll had to be yours.

confidently, you marched up to elena, smiling as she noticed you approaching. you did not beat around the bush, nor did you attempt to sugar coat what you wanted.

"you have to give me that doll."

and the most shocking thing had happened to you after that.

elena had said:

"no."

startled, stupefied, and shocked, you looked back at her, scanning her pale face with disgust. you would give her the benefit of the doubt... perhaps with all the stories you had told, maybe she had forgotten the rules, the outcomes, or the consequences of not listening to your instructions.

that was quite all right. you were more than happy to remind her.

"okay, well, because you said no to me, bloody mary is my friend and she's gonna come and kill you... so yeah."

and you had found yourself absolutely flabbergasted when the girl had a well-prepared response to that. it had clearly been thought out.

"that's not true," said elena.

you frowned. "huh?"

"bloody mary's not real," she clarified for you, as if you had made up the story for your own enjoyment (which, you had, but that was not the point).

you resisted the urge to snatch the doll from her hands and run off with it, uncaring of whether she cried or not, unbothered as to whether you would end up in the naughty corner for the third time that day. your only concern was who had broken the news to her, who had ruined the entire purpose of your stories.

probably a teacher, you thought to yourself, scowling in annoyance.

well now it meant that you had to repair the damage. what a hassle.

"someone told me," elena added, as though that comment was ever so helpful (it was not).

"okay," you shrugged, acting careless. "don't blame me when bloody mary comes to you at night. i warned you."

elena had not wasted any more time in giving you the doll; you were pleased

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

the next few days were rather unpleasant. you had not been in the greatest mood on one particular morning: the sun had woken you up that day, your mother had forced you to go in to kindergarten despite your strong protests, you had lost the class game, and you had been sent to the naughty corner at one point — which, on a normal day, would not have bothered you in the slightest: the issue lied with the stupid assistant teacher that had been told to watch over you because apparently, you could not be trusted to stay put. not to mention, you had an extra ten minutes in comparison to the other kids.

you had no plans on doing your typical story-tellings, yet your other classmates had been bugging you since the moment you had passed the double doors on your way in. initially, you refused them, in foolish hopes of the fact that they'd accept it and move on.

they didn't.

they pleaded for your story, claiming that they would truly stay silent, no questions, as you entertained them. you did not believe it, not even a sock could silence the annoying giggles and chatter of those classmates of yours.

but to stop their consistent begging, you had given in (albeit, reluctantly) and not long after, you found yourself sitting in that circle again, waiting for everyone to gather themselves.

"oh my god, kenji, shut up!" you scolded the dark haired boy who had been laughing loudly and preventing you from starting. your tone was harsh, aware that this particular classmate of yours would not take any offence to your comments towards him (unlike anyone else, who you knew would end up in tears, resulting in you sitting in that naughty corner once again).

"sorry," kenji lee chuckled, but you could not help but think that he did not look one bit sorry.

as the chatter around you began to die down, you repressed the urge to rip the stupid bow placed on your head that had been pulling on a particular strand of your hair for some time, and throw it at someone (kenji).

impatiently, you handed the torch to the girl next to you: you had very little tolerance for the struggle of attempting to switch the light on without wasting time. as you waited for her to click it on, you noticed that she was a newcomer, you had never seen her in class and you knew for a fact that she was not in the other class either. surely you would have been told?

the girl proved to be helpful, she had successfully switched the torch on and with a small 'thanks', you took the torch from her hands and placed it beneath your chin (again, almost blinded from the angle of the light shining just below your eyes).

this time around, you did not waste time with a slow introduction to your story, caring less and less for the enjoyment of your peers.

"so there was this man and his name is freddy krueger," you began, watching confusion rise on your classmates' faces. perhaps they were used to your long introductions (the typical 'once upon a time' etc). you did not care for it. "he used to be very handsome and then his wife found out that he was cheating on her and then burnt his face."

as promised, none of the kids raised their hands to ask 'how?' or question something very obvious. your bad mood had been knocked down an inch.

"so now he comes for naughty kids who keep cheating in games," you stated, staring specifically at christopher allen who you strongly believed to have cheated in order to win the class game that morning (stupid miss huckleberry had been adamant that he had truly won fair and square).

the silence that you had been revelling in for a short moment had been interrupted harshly. you'd heard malakai's aggravating voice distract you, ripping you from your hardening glare towards christopher, whose eyes were slowly starting to water for whatever reason.

"did fred have —"

you interrupted him.

"no you can't call him that, only i can."

malakai's eyebrows raised so far up, there were lines on his forehead. another voice cut in through the conversation: it was abby milton.

"y/n, how are you friends with every single bad guy?" she had asked, curious.

you had no choice but to step in and correct her.

"they're not bad guys because i changed them so yeah... they're mis— mis— misuntood."

you were ninety-nine percent sure that none of the kids in the circle knew what that word meant, but none of them dared to ask.

"oh, i forgot," you added, just as you had nearly placed the torch away. hurriedly, you brought it right back beneath your chin. "if — if — if — if you, like, don't keeping on telling off me... then he... umm... yeah, he won't kill you."

you did not specify (with your eyes or your voice) who you were referring to, but you had decided that the same went for the rest of the kids anyway. that naughty corner would be the death of you, you were sure of it. at least now, with this threat looming over their heads, you would not be in the naughty corner for a long, long time to come.

shortly after, you had quickly put the torch away and made your way to the book corner, attempting to entertain yourself with some of the new books the kindergarten had gotten. several of the other kids had decided that they were not done yet, that they still had questions that remained unanswered about freddy krueger. the only thing that deterred them was the threat that you would never tell another story if they bothered you this much again.

looking disappointed, and mildly annoyed, they had walked off, grumbling about how they had no way to protect themselves from yet another evil entity. you shrugged it off, distracted by the pretty fairy lights and cushions decorating the book shelf. pleased with the presentation of the area, you admired the way the warm colour emanated from the little light bulbs attached to the silver wire. several posters lined the top of the bookshelf, promoting 'silent reading' and so on.

accompanying you some time later had been abby milton, complaining about how she wanted you to give more clarification about freddy krueger (you tried not to sigh loudly, thinking about how you had only just gotten peace about the matter).

"i'll tell miss," she decided on saying at last, something that had finally caught your attention after practically ignoring her pleas since the moment she had sat down beside you.

"freddy krueger will come get you in night time then."

and you were certain (after she had voiced out her response to that) that you were facing deja vu for the first time.

"somebody said you're lying," said abby, swiping her messy hair away from her face. "somebody said freddy krueger isn't real."

you attempted to mask over the fury you had now adopted, trying to hide the mix of confusion and curiosity too: as if your mood wasn't already terrible, you were practically a ticking time bomb, and the timer was slowly reaching its peak.

but your suspicions were now confirmed — there was someone out there sabotaging you: if it had been a teacher, like you originally suspected, then, one: you would have found yourself in time out again, and two: she wouldn't have threatened to tell off of you, seeing as the teacher would have already known about it.

it was one of your classmates. you were certain now.

reminded of the fact that not all of your peers entered the circle of your story-telling time, you could narrow down your options. someone outside of the circle was your culprit.

but again, you were not in the mood to spend the time investigating. so, instead, you decided to flat out ask her who this mystery person was.

"well they're a liar," you said, standing up and dusting yourself off, looking around. "they basically want you to get — to — to die." you looked down at her, brows furrowed. "anyways who even said that?"

"megumi."

and now you were more than offended. you were absolutely ready to beat down a boy, but for a fellow girl to turn around and stab you in the back with no remorse? that stung. it felt like she (whoever she was) had plunged a knife right through your back and pushed it all the way to your heart, practically carving out your insides to her pleasure.

ignoring her calls for you, you walked away and exited the classroom, standing in the playground and looking furtive. the sun shone over the unused bikes and the abandoned hula-hoops on the floor as members of both classes ran around and played together. the sight hurt your eyes, the headache of yours stirring even further and worsening with each passing minute.

and what was worse? malakai, that annoying peer of yours, had appeared in front of you somehow. you had looked away for a mere second, how had he reached you without your awareness?

"can you please tell me what freddy krueger stays away from? i'm scar—"

"listen," you started, the timer in you now at one digit numbers, "i forgot to say that fred also kills people who keep bov— bovering me, so you have to leave me alone."

just when you thought you were done with this conversation, someone else had decided to join in, but once they had spoken...

you were certain your hunt for the enemy had been over.

"stop lying."

leisurely, your head turned. it seemed as though a thousand years had gone by, but really, it had only been a short fifteen seconds till you had turned enough to be met with the sight of a... a boy?

a million and one questions had passed your mind in that short moment you made eye contact with the boy who looked as though you had eradicated his entire bloodline. had you misheard abby? you were certain the name of the sabotag-er was megumi, a girl name.

but you were absolutely, one hundred percent, definitely certain that this boy was unquestionably the one going around ruining your plans, corrupting the minds of your classmates to turn them against you.

and the kid looked goofy too, you had thought, with his dark-as-night hair standing on all ends, his equally-as-dark eyes half-lidded as if he had not a care in the world, and his face forming an unmoveable frown, looking more than unimpressed.

well that made sense. the metaphorical knife was now non-existent, since your initial assumption had been correct — it was a dumb boy after all.

"who," you began, defensive, "are you? i've never even seen you in my life."

but it wasn't (who you assumed was) megumi that answered. you had just realised that malakai was still in the picture.

"that's megumi guro!" he had said, loud and clear.

you regarded him with a short look before staring back at megumi guro, who had somehow appeared more grumpier than when you had first gazed at him.

"it's fushi-guro," said megumi what's-his-face.

you scowled at him.

"if you keep saying that again and again and again, freddy krueger's gonna come to you in the —"

"he's not even real."

malakai had gasped. you glared at megumi fushiguro.

"you know what? you're not even real megumi fushigo!"

"it's fushiguro," he repeated, stoic.

"i said that."

"no you didn't."

malakai had disappeared by this point, perhaps bored with this interaction between you and megumi fushiguro.

"yes i did," you repeated, frustrated. no other kid had ever challenged you, this megumi child was starting to put a bad taste in your mouth.

"no you —"

"yeah stop subject changing."

"you mean changing the subject."

"oh my gosh!" you exclaimed, scratching at your thigh which proved to be unsatisfying seeing as your tights were in the way. "you listen here with your girl’s name! you are a girl!"

"..."

megumi fushiguro had not said anything for a while, choosing to stay silent as he stared back at you. uncertain of whether you had seen it properly, but you could have sworn that you'd seen his eye twitch ever so slightly.

"not a girl's name," he grumbled quietly.

you gave him a tight-lipped smile.

"liar, liar, pants on fire!" you shouted, pointing at him like he had committed a brutal crime in front of your very eyes. smug, you looked at him with a real smile this time. "who's the liar now?"

but megumi's response had come just as quick as you had finished yours.

"still you."

"no, it's both of us!"

"you just admitted to lying."

"..."

astounded, staggered, and stupefied, you stared back at megumi, mouth parted and jaw dropped. you had only just realised your mistake there, the smugness you had previously adopted now diminished and killed just as it had come. nobody had ever rendered you speechless before, you had always gotten your way. usually, people would simply leave you to have the last word in defeat, but this megumi... megumi had got you there, because you just had admitted to lying.

"...MIIIIIIISS, megumi slapped my butt!"

"megumi did not slap your butt y/n."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

"now you want to go to school, huh?" your mother mused as she pulled your hair back into a ponytail and began tying a silk ribbon into it.

it had been a week since you had met megumi fushiguro, and since then, it seemed as though he was everywhere. every story you had scared your other classmates with, he just had to be there to tell them the truth, corrupting them (in your eyes).

he had been actively undoing every tale you would tell and it was starting to irritate you. the only way you could win this silent battle was actually attending kindergarten, even if you had a pounding headache and had woken up on the wrong side of bed.

now you were seated on the floor, your mother on the soft couch as she worked to style your hair.

"i don't want to go," you grumbled, hissing when your mother had accidentally pulled at your hair ('oh, sorry honey'). "but i have to."

"yes, you do," your mother hummed in agreement, and you had quickly corrected her.

"no, not like that, mommy," you said, playing with the ends of your skirt as you attempted to explain yourself and what you really meant. "i have to because — because there's this really dumb boy that's just keeping on ruining things.”

"you mean keeps on ruining things?"

you sighed loudly, feeling restless. at the moment, the way you spoke was the least of your concerns. your mother could correct you later, not when you were in distress.

"i'm sorry, go on," she said, but you could hear the amusement in her voice, as if she’d made an attempt to mask her laughter (it didn't work). "what's his name?"

"he has a girl name," you said, feeling smug again. “i told him he has a girl name.”

"y/n, that's not nice," said mom, although she was gentle with her scolding.

"he's not nice," you replied defensively. “anyways, his name is megumi."

your mom laughed softly, tightening your pony tail and then leaning forward to fix the baby hairs with a bit of gel. she knew to use very little of it seeing as you disliked the way it felt on your head.

"that is a girl name, isn't it?"

"mhm," you nodded ('y/n don't move, i'll make a mistake).

"but…” she said, lifting you and putting you on the couch so you were now facing each other in order to do the front of your hair neatly. she spoke slowly so as to remain concentrated on your hair. "you still... can't... say that now, can you... hm, y/ n?"

you shrugged, and then immediately apologised when you realised you had moved.

"he deserves it."

“i'm sure... he does." said mom, smiling ever so slightly. "he's... megumi-what?"

she used a small toothbrush to clean out the sides of your forehead.

"megumi fushigo."

your mother paused, leaning back and staring at you in surprise. the toothbrush was still firm in her grip, but it was no longer pressed against your hair due to her arms deflating. she raised her eyebrows at you, mouth parted in what looked like to you as realisation.

"you mean fushiguro?" she said, taking you by surprise too.

"yeah, i said that," you responded easily. "how do you know him?"

"oh no, i don't know him,” she told you honestly, lifting the toothbrush and getting back to work with the gel again. “but i know the fushiguros. they live across from us, y/n.”

you looked up at your mom, mouth agape.

"he's our neighbour?"

"they have been... for... some time... yes," she answered, nodding slightly.

it seemed as though the universe was on your side: this meant that you could sabotage him if you really wanted to, too. who was to stop you from shouting out his door number in class? what if you met his parents and made a formal complaint about him? surely even a five year old could have some influence over matters such as a small rivalry?

"can i egg his door?"

“y/n."

"sorry."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

"y/n, you know the boogeyman guy?" said amira khalil, timid after she'd explained how she had to work up the courage to approach you.

you nodded.

"yeah, my mommy and i feed him every night," you said calmly, head down as you coloured in the big monster you'd drawn. "i think i already told you about him."

"you did,” said amira, confirming your thoughts. she was twiddling her thumbs, looking nervous. “i searched up him online with my older sister... i saw a video."

you looked up at her, patiently waiting for her to complete her sentence. she must have approached you for more than just some small information on what she'd got up to with her sister the other night. you guessed that maybe it had something to do with your knowledge.

"how do i protect myself from the boogeyman?" she finally asked, picking at her nails.

you shrugged.

“if my mommy and me forget to feed him, then he might come out."

amira's hesitant smile had dropped completely, brows raised and lip wobbling.

"but it's okay! we always remember to feed him," you reassured her. “but sometimes i can forget when someone distracts me — like if you — if you keeping on using the colouring pens when i need them — sometimes — sometimes it stays on my mind so i forget to feed him in the night.”

the poor girl did not look reassured in the slightest.

"but... but what if you get distracted over somefing else and then — then you f-forget to feed him?"

"that won't happen because he's not even real," said megumi, who had somehow appeared behind you despite this classroom not being his.

amira's cheeks flushed a warm colour.

“he’s not?"

you slammed your hand against the table and stood up.

“this is distracting me" you snapped, to which amira's eyes had widened and she realised what that meant.

"don't worry! i'll try and get my mom to remind your mom to feed him tonight."

and thankfully, before megumi could interrupt her straight-forward thoughts even further, she ran away, heading for the toilets.

you sighed irritably. this interaction had completely altered the rest of your day. instead of sitting in front of the tv for the rest of the evening, now you had a change of plans: sit by the home telephone and impersonate your own mother to make sure the news never got to your mom.

"why are you even here? this isn't your class, imposter!"

"i had to give something to miss huckleberry."

"go away, fushigo."

“it's — never mind."

———

"y/n, are you meant to be here?" miss turner had asked you, but only after you had entered the doors of the other class.

you noticed the most biggest difference between your classroom and the other classroom: the teacher’s desk was not on the left side, it was on the right. furthermore, there were only four group tables, not five, leaving more carpet space. instead of two toy boxes, there were three, filled to the brim with toys like lego, dolls and trucks.

you preferred your own classroom, especially when this one's bookshelf lacked any personality (where were the pretty fairy lights?).

"yeah, i am," you answered with a smile. "i — um — i had — i had to — i had to give something to you from miss huckleberry."

"oh?" said miss turner, and you had seen her big, brows eyes scan your empty hands. on instinct, you put them behind your back and smiled. "so... what is it? where is it?"

"um —”

and then you heard that dawdling voice again.

"it's not even real.”

you desperately wanted to turn around and elbow him in the face. you were the same height, it would have definitely worked too, but though you were impulsive, you were not reckless — in the direct presence of a teacher, his teacher too, you knew better.

miss turner's eyes had darted from you to megumi, curiosity lacing her soft features.

"what do you mean by that, megumi?"

"she's lying, miss."

one day, you vowed, as miss turner walked you back to your class by your hand, you will find a way to annoy him just as much as he annoys you.

———

the playground seemed even bigger now that everyone had been occupied by the new toys brought to fill the toy boxes inside. at first, you felt excited about it: new toys meant new entertainment. however, after seeing what the toys were, it had not taken you too long to lose interest.

still, there were a fair few of you outside, playing tag and running around till your breaths ran out.

you were on the twin swings with gabriela robinson (short name: gabi). it would have been enjoyable if that teacher assistant wasn't practically breathing down your neck, making sure everyone was behaving. why couldn't she have watched from the top of the slide? it created a wider field of vision anyway, why was she choosing to stand behind you?

“look, it’s megumi on the bike!” gabi had pointed out.

indeed, she was correct: it really was megumi on a bike, simply riding around with it in circles.

boring, you thought in your head.

"you know, megumi has a girl name, how funny is that?" you gossiped in hushed tones, chuckling and giggling at the thought just as megumi had passed you with the bike.

you almost choked on your own giggles when megumi slid to a stop right in front of you. he did not look pleased.

"y/n, that's not very nice," that annoying voice of the teacher assistant had cut in.

your smile fell, serious-looking as you turned your head to look back at her and say, “i wasn't talking to you."

the woman's face had turned angry.

"go to the naughty corner!"

you did not put up a fight. you got off the swings, glared at megumi (he was still looking at you without any visible emotion) and then walked yourself back inside.

you made another vow to yourself: that stupid teacher assistant would be your enemy from that day onwards.

———

"i saw your dad yesterday," you said to megumi, approaching him on the playground by the sand pit.

neither of you were in the sand pit. in fact, megumi looked disgusted at the mere sight of it. he was such a picky person in your mind — had he spent most of recess simply judging the sand pit?

he seriously needed help.

"why is he so fat?" you asked bluntly.

if your statement earlier hadn't caught his attention, what you just commented did. oddly enough, he did not look as offended as you had expected him to be. he simply looked... baffled, as though the way his dad looked was self-explanatory (which, it was, he was fat in your eyes, so why did he look at you like what you had just asked was all sorts of wrong?).

"he's not fat,” he said, just as bluntly. he stared back at you as though it were obvious.

"yes he is," you shot back, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. "i saw him. and i saw him taking you to school so that — that means he's fat in the morning and fat at night too!"

he exhaled through his mouth, looking away and grumbling something about how he thought his mom was lying about you living near. you ignored that, still demanding answers.

"so why is he fat?"

“he’s not,” said megumi, emphasising the final word. “it’s his muscles.”

"does he eat too much?" you questioned as if you hadn't heard him. "what do you guys always have for dinner? probably — probably — er — burgers and fries and soda and lots of ice cream right? but your dad maybe takes too much, is that why you're so skinny?"

megumi's gaze hardened, face stony as he clarified harshly, "it's called muscles.”

but then a thought had just occurred to you, one that had you absolutely startled and staring off into space, watching as alexa clement hopped off the swings and left it moving back and forth with momentum. what if, you questioned to yourself, megumi ended up like his dad? what if he ended up learning how to be extremely fat?

you didn't hate megumi, of course. you never hated him, you just found him to be a thorn at your side. however, that did not mean that you would allow even a thorn at your side to grow as fat as his very father.

"megumi...”

and now you found yourself unwilling to imagine a very unhealthy and fat megumi, yet your brain just did not listen to you, the picture already set in your head. you slowly turned your head to look at him, eyes wide with worry.

"what.”

"oh my gosh... what if you end up like that?"

he looked as deadpanned as ever.

“i won’t.”

"megumi it's — it's gonna be fine because — because my mommy learned me how to make a lunchbox," you explained seriously. "i’ll help you make a healfy one so you — like — you don't look like your dad and become fat.”

"leave me alone," he said, annoyed.

he kicked and stomped at the floor, the sand left over flying up and entering your mouth. you coughed and spat at the floor, shouting at megumi, but you had heard the sound of his footsteps distancing themselves from you, a little too fast to be considered a walk. he had run away from you after leaving you to practically die at the taste of sand.

“MIIIIIIISS!”

———

the middle of october meant that there would be a parent-teacher conference. although it seemed too early (the other kindergarten schools do it much later on in the year) the one week holiday was nearing and it meant that a formal report had to be given to your parents about your behaviour, attitude to learning, relationships with other students, etc.

a lot of the parents had lined up by the double doors, the wall separating the two classrooms had been pushed away somehow (you had sat staring at it for a while) and the classrooms were now merged to be one big ‘boss' classroom (as you would say).

with the rest of you students having nothing to do but wait for your parents to finish their individual meetings with your teachers, you all huddled together and made conversation. you learnt the names of the students from the other class, interacted with them, and asked which of the adults were their parents.

your mother seemed to be running late, so you couldn't answer that question.

but someone (david yeboah) had asked megumi (who was standing across from you) who his dad was.

after megumi's stunt the other day, you felt the need to get back at him, embarrass him if you will. anyway, it wasn't your fault that his dad didn't have a healthy diet.

“guys,” you said loudly, as though you were making an important announcement — you were. "megumi's dad is a fatty!"

all of the kids stared at you in awe, some had even whispered ‘really?'. you nodded, ignoring the hard stare megumi was directing at you.

"yeah," you said in a hushed tone, quiet, but loud enough for all of the kids to hear you. “i saw him, he's really big, it's true! megumi's dad is a fatty —"

you turned around, nearly bumping head first into... megumi's dad's legs. you looked up, heart pounding from the vision above you.

if you thought he was big from a distance, then god knows what you thought now. his chest took up your entire sight, he was large enough to crush you with his fat hands if he so pleased.

the smirk that you had seen him wear before in the early mornings by his house had faded now. though, to your pleasure, he did not look angry at all. sure, his dark brows were knitting together as he looked down at you, and sure, his eyes were squinted. but he looked more confused than he did angry.

still, the realisation that he had heard you call him a 'fatty' made your heart race. not to mention, he looked terrifying from down there.

without a word, you simply turned the other way and speed-walked to the toy box, distancing yourself from him.

"woah…” you muttered to yourself, pressing a hand to your chest and feeling your heart beat hardly against it. “scary.”

———

you were sat by the book corner, a few other people occupying the bean bags with you. the school had bought a ton of new books for you to read, so lately, you'd been spending most of your time by the bookshelves and less and less of your time terrorising the other kids (and that teacher assistant).

you believed that the new books had been the best investment the school had made. however, it was bothersome when the other kids would beg you for story times again when you were clearly occupied.

besides that, it was blissful being able to find new entertainment in such a boring place.

at the moment, you had been showing your classmates the fiction book you had in your hands, a book that miss huckleberry stated had been shipped straight from the uk (someone failed in doing a good british accent too and it made you cringe).

it was about this girl (she had a silly name, you thought) called goldilocks and her adventure with the house belonging to three talking bears.

"no, david, that's not how the story went," you said wisely. “the baby bear went back in the room and saw goldilocks ru— ru— ruining everyfing.”

"that's not even real.”

you looked up: megumi was standing by the entrance of the book fort you had made for the book corner. he looked serious (when did he not?) and he was staring at the book held up in your small hands. in his own arms was a larger book, thin enough to imply that there wasn't much story to it, but unlike the other books, the book he possessed had real life images as its cover.

"it's goldilocks and the three bears," you informed him, eyes narrowed.

"yeah... and it's not even real."

"it's a book!"

he held up his own one.

"this is a book too."

"yeah, so that's not real either!"

"it is,” he said, with a tone of finality.

you were not having it:

"how come your book is real and mine isn't?"

"mine is non-fiction," said megumi, and you felt glee in your chest when he nearly stuttered over the word 'non-fiction’. megumi had never stuttered before, but he was also not super human either. he was the same as the rest of you. "yours is fiction. fiction means fake —"

"MIIIIIIISS! MEGUMI’S LYING!"

"y/n i am sitting right near you, you do not have to yell.”

———

though the academic year had not even been close to ending, the kindergarten had made a boring, old tuesday an open-day for future students to attend. current students were still required to go to school like usual, only, towards home-time, the kindergarten would be open till eight o’clock in the evening.

the year before, you had not stayed that late, seemingly bored with the idea. this year, however, your mother had to work late and could not pick you up. conveniently (for her, not you), the open-day fell right on her work overtime-day. she did not have to call for one of your aunts to come look after you (a hassle for her, really, because although her family loved you, they believed that you were a devil-child, hence the difficulty in trying to get them to come over).

several other kids had stayed back too, but only out of their own will.

apart from one particular child — megumi fushiguro.

he did not look happy at the prospect of staying for longer than when the clock hit three o’clock (home-time). you shared his displeasure silently, though there really was no need for him to be there, you noted, for you had seen his father accompany other parents by the coffee stand.

had he been forced there too? megumi’s fat dad looks annoyed, you thought to yourself.

you did not dwell too much on the thought, for you and the remaining kids had decided to play hide-and-seek. some of the new kids — accompanied by their parents — had joined in too. you did not mind, the more the merrier, especially when your actual classmates had refused to allow you not to be seeker.

you shrugged, uncaring of which role you played in the game.

so, eyes shut, you counted from one to twenty:

“one… two… three…” you counted, already bored. you continued. “…ten… eleven… twelve-thirteen-fourteen-fifteen —”

“hey no fair that’s cheating!” some whiny voice you didn’t recognise had spoken.

you scowled, turning around to see who it was: no surprise, it had been some random kid, not one of your classmates who knew better than to doubt you.

“found you, you’re out.”

the ginger kid looked scandalised.

“but —”

“sixteen… seventeen… eighteen…”

he ran off crying somewhere.

“nineteen-twenty!” you shouted quickly, jumping up and uncovering your eyes excitedly. “ready or not, here i come!”

you skipped along the classroom, picking out several dumb kids who had hidden in places that were very obvious to you. another one of those random new kids had stayed in the centre of the carpet (which was out in the open), crouched with his eyes shut.

you stared at him, deadpanned.

“i found you.”

and he had the audacity to ask “how?”.

dumb kid, you thought, as you walked out to the playground and saw some kids hiding behind the slide. in order to get there, you had to pass the coffee stand.

the sight of the teacher assistant looking bored and annoyed pleased you: a smile radiated your face which had previously been decorated with scowls and frowns.

you skipped past megumi’s dad along the way.

“hey fat-man we’re just playing hide-and-seek!” you informed him happily.

you did not wait for his response as you continued to run away, a jump in your step as you slowly got closer and closer to the slide; you had passed a stoic megumi, who simply stood there as you casually insulted his father. you could have sworn that you heard the insulted man audibly grunt, muttering something that sounded like ‘who is that child?’.

you did not have the time to entertain his questions: those kids were getting away.

———

mondays were the worst days in your opinion: it was the start of the week, meaning that you still had four more days to go before the weekend would arrive. the weekend was also only two days long, one day which you would spend stressing about monday being the day after that. it was unnecessary stress for a five year old.

mondays were also the days where that annoying teacher assistant would stay in your class more than the other class. you didn’t want her there, so why was she always present? it irked you, she held no purpose, really.

it had been nearing lunch time as you sat on the grass on the playground with two other girls: kimberly garnett and alexa clement. they had been telling you about how, apparently, a boy from the other class (alejandro henderson) had a crush on one of the girls from your class, though it was undiscovered who.

ultimately, it was a gossip session.

but the conversation of alejandro and his secret crush was starting to bore you. it was not long before the topic had changed.

“why is megumi alone all them times?” said kimberly, who had craned her head over her shoulder to look at the dark-haired boy — he was staring at some cat that had somehow ended up in the playground.

none of you had actually answered the question. none of you ever answered any questions, you simply spoke for the sake of it.

you leaned in, face gleaming with excitement as you put a hand over your mouth to whisper.

“megumi looks like a porcupine —”

“y/n!”

you stared up at the teacher assistant who somehow spawned in front of you. her eyes were fierce and demanding, staring at you with indignation. how had she heard you? you had been certain that you were whispering. did she somehow have super ears?

you did not say anything, choosing to remain silent. she raised a pointed brow at you, as though to say ‘explain yourself’, but you did not submit.

instead, with a sigh, you stood up, dusted your skirt off, and walked yourself back inside, claiming the time-out seat without having to be asked. and all the while, you felt eyes burn holes at the back of your head, knowing full well that they did not belong to the nosy teacher assistant.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

the autumn season had hit hard as the month of october had slowly come to an end. by the point it had turned into november, you were now attending school with mittens, scarves, and a big coat.

one particular morning, you had woken up feeling giddy: your hatred towards summer was unmatched. in your mind, the autumn and winter days were the best, no questions asked.

you had gotten out of bed with a smile (for the first time in a while) and attended kindergarten without any protests — your mother had been pleasantly surprised and there were no complaints.

even the sight of megumi did not evoke annoyance out of you.

the kids had stopped asking for the stories you would tell seeing as darkness would hit the skies earlier than what you had all been used to: it meant that there would be more time for fear of the evil entities you told them all about should they ask for the stories. it was convenient, for you could still practically control your peers through the threats of the previous stories whilst also not being annoyed by being asked for new ones. besides, halloween had only just passed too, and kenji lee had claimed that he’d seen someone dressed up as the bloody ginger-woman — you did not believe him because you made that woman up for one of your old stories. ‘she wasn’t even real,’ you had said to him, and then slapped a hand over your mouth when you realised just who you had begun to sound like.

one particular frosty day, you approached megumi on the playground and simply stood beside him, curious to see what he had been staring at for the past five minutes. he gave you an odd look, but did not question you for accompanying him.

until he did.

rudely, too, you had to add.

“why are you just standing there, megumi?”

“why is your hands so pale right now?”

“what are you staring at?”

“how does your hair stay like that?”

“why —”

“what do you even want?” he had snapped, turning his head ever so slightly so as to glare at you with his cold, dark eyes.

you laughed.

“you can’t — you can’t — you can’t answer a question with — with another question,” you told him, chuckling. “silly billy.”

“you just asked me ten hundred… million… billion questions,” he scowled, looking away from you to stare at something in the distance again.

“that’s not a number —”

“shut up.”

“i’ll tell miss.”

“miss never believes you.”

you shrugged. fair point, you had thought. he raised a good argument. it was odd, any time you told off of anyone, it always ended up backfiring. however, if it were anyone else telling off of you instead, you’d end up warming up the naughty chair for a future sitter (most likely you again) as per usual.

“so…” you began, bending your knees slightly to crouch a little and reach megumi’s downcast eyes. “you didn’t answer my question.”

“which one?”

“what are you staring at?” you repeated, standing up straight again and letting your fingers intertwine in the comfort of your unconnected pocket of your coat.

megumi hesitated before answering.

“i saw a fox when my dad dropped me off.”

you looked around, inspecting the bushes.

“well maybe you was seeing monsters,” you said wisely. “my mommy says —”

“your mom never said anything,” megumi cut in icily, “it’s always you.”

for some reason, you did not find it in you to be offended. maybe it was because he hadn’t been lying — it was true: your mother never actually said anything, you simply used her as a way to lie about untrue facts. it was good to use someone older as a guide, less people denied your statements because of them. adults simply couldn’t be wrong.

“ok,” you began, unsure of where to continue. “okay well my mommy says i have to play with lonely kids so i’m just gonna play with you, all right?”

megumi, with his hands shoved in his designer coat (he was rich? his father didn’t look rich), glared at you, looking mildly offended. what had you said wrong?

it seemed that you would never know, not when he hadn’t bothered to say.

“no,” he said instead, and his tone seemed final.

you grinned. “oh, was that a yes?”

“no— i said no.”

you ignored him, feeling fidgety as you perked up excitedly.

“okay ready steady tag you’re it!”

you tapped him on his arm, excitedly running away from him. you knew that he wouldn’t chase after you, so you opted to not run very far and then skip around him, running in circles as he remained in the centre. and as per usual, he wore his signature scowl.

“stop it you’re making me dizzy,” said megumi.

you didn’t stop. you continued to run around him in circles, urging him to play.

“don’t you know how to play tag?” you asked, teasingly. “you know everything except tag —”

“no,” said megumi, but you could tell his resolve was faltering.

“i’m gonna keep running around you megumi! it’s fun!”

megumi stood completely still as your excitement grew, the blood beneath your skin running with adrenaline as the beat of your heart increased. with you alternating between skips and runs, you were slowly growing out of breath; mixed with your laughter only made it harder to keep it all up.

until the circles had stopped — megumi’s eye twitched and the next thing you knew, the dark haired boy was charging at you.

you squealed, frightened as you tried jogging away, but with how much you had ran in circles previously, your speed was not your greatest. it felt like a dream, your feet hitting the ground slowly.

“no — megumi —” you shouted, scared as you looked back and saw him catching up. “i didn’t” — you gasped for air — “think” — you exhaled — “you would” — you let out a breath — “actually chase me!”

and you had learnt a new thing about megumi that day: as small as you both were, his little legs took him far. he was probably the most speediest kid you had seen in your five years of living, the lesson learnt extremely well when you felt a hand press against your shoulder, pushing you forwards as you stumbled and halted, nearly falling over as you gathered your breath.

you turned around, shoulders raising and falling, chest heaving as you stared at him. his hair was still as dishevelled as ever, but he looked more ruffled than he usually did, tiny breaths of air falling from his nose.

“got you,” he had mumbled under his breath, staring back at you fiercely.

you looked back at him, scrambling for excuses.

“actually you didn’t get me,” you told him, extending your arm to hold onto the red roundabout, the crisp autumn leaves decorating its floor. “see? i’m home. you can’t get me because i’m safe.”

you gestured to the connection between your touch and the roundabout.

megumi’s brows had furrowed, a crease forming between his dark brows on his pale skin. he did not seem to agree with you, but unlike the other kids, it seemed as though he would keep up an argument with you.

“you just made that up,” he said, sounding confident in his statement.

“no,” you denied, truthfully. “ask — ask — er —” you stammered, looking around for a potential helper.

david had been crossed off the list immediately — he was rather stupid. kenji had been crossed too — he would try and go against you out of fun. nia akello, a girl from the other class you and megumi were both familiar with, would be perfect. she was not biased and had also been a victim of the ‘home’ rule in tag you’d introduced some time before.

“ask nia!” you said brightly, and before megumi could say anything in an argument, you waved at nia and called for her. “nia! hey! over here!”

confused and shocked, nia akello ran over to where you and megumi had been standing, out of breath by the time she had reached the two of you (it had been a short distance, arguably).

“nia, isn’t it true that —”

“shut up you’ll cheat,” snapped megumi.

you hadn’t been silenced by him, necessarily, you had been silenced into shock. and offence. you were very offended by the way he had spoken to you publicly.

whether he’d seen your expression or not, he had made no indication, for megumi had not wasted a second before he rushed into speaking to nia.

“is ‘home’ real in tag?”

“yep!” said nia, beaming. “can i go now?”

“n—”

“yes you can, nia,” you smiled, shooing her away before megumi could corrupt her into believing that a ‘home’ in tag did not exist.

to be completely honest, it didn’t exist. you simply made that up when you got tired of running so much and needed a break. in your defence, it was good! it made the game more interesting after all, what’s not to like about it?

apparently quite a lot of things, for megumi did not look the tiniest bit impressed (not that you had expected him to be anyway).

“fine,” said megumi, taking you by surprise. you took your hand off the roundabout as you listened to him speak. “the swings is the new home.”

“what —”

“i’m gonna chase you now.”

megumi took a step back, sliding his feet against the concrete as an act of intimidation — it was working.

you scrambled to look for an out.

“but —”

“five… four…”

“megumi —”

“three…”

“that’s not fai—”

“two…”

“wait!”

“one-and-a-half…”

“UGH!” you sighed, jumping up and running away with as much speed as you could gather.

megumi was on your heels the second you had taken off, having reached zero on his countdown. you had realised (as you pushed past several people to get away from the evil child), that you had foolishly ran away without looking at where you were heading, now finding yourself further and further away from the swings.

you looked back, cautious, and immediately regretted it when megumi’s face appeared inches from your own.

you let out a yelp at the sight of his raised hand and swerved away.

“this is —” you gasped out, scrunching up your dress as you ran; you had very nearly been caught, “SCARY!”

your throat grew dry, panting for breath whilst you dodged megumi’s hand. you made the dumb decision of looking back again, letting out a squeak when you had realised just how close he was getting.

“I WANT MY MOMMY —”

it had seemed that your call for your mother had drawn the attention of miss turner, the teacher of the other class. previously, she had been looking over the sandpit and making sure your peers hadn’t been making a mess, but as you neared it, she’d looked up and caught you sprinting.

“y/n? what’s —”

“MIIIIIIIISS!” you cried, just as megumi’s palm had fallen flat against your back.

dramatically, you tumbled forwards, sliding against the concrete and lying against it despite your disgust with all the dirt.

you opened your eyes, met with the sight of megumi staring down at you, chest heaving as he let out little pants out of exhaustion. still, even in his tired state, he did not look the slightest bit pleased.

“i win.”

you sat up, groaning. “no you —”

megumi did not wait for you to say your piece before he left, saying something to miss turner and then entering the building again without looking back at you.

and all the while, you smiled at the thought that you had basically forced megumi to play with you.

but that had been before you’d taken a look at the state you were in, and then inwardly cursed at yourself for playing such a dangerous game with a kid who had little care for anything at all.

home-time that day had been amusing too. your mother had been running late (miss huckleberry had informed you earlier) so you spent the time sitting outside with members of the other class and getting to know them better — it was mainly due to the fact that the teacher assistant had once again been breathing down your neck, you simply had to get away from her.

your chats were being cut short as the parents began turning up, which made you rather bored.

up until the point where megumi had to leave.

megumi had been sitting in the corner, a little two meter distance between you and the rest of his class. you had no idea whether that was a normal thing or not, you didn’t bother questioning it, merely chatting along with the other girls.

but then you’d heard miss turner say something rather interesting.

“megumi,” she had said, calling out to him from beside you. “you can go, your dad’s here.”

when indeed, his dad was not there. you frowned, looking around for the fat man that you knew to be megumi’s father. there were only several mothers, young women with strollers and other dads already occupied by their own children.

but in the far distance, approaching you all slowly, had been a man with white hair, taller than anyone you had ever seen, and wearing round, opaque sunglasses despite the weather being very gloomy.

but that simply couldn’t be megumi’s father: you knew megumi’s father. you’s seen megumi’s father. you’d spoken to megumi’s father. and that man, wearing a smirk worth gold, was certainly not megumi’s father.

and it seemed that megumi had agreed.

“he’s not my dad,” he had grumbled, hiding the lower part of his face behind his designer coat.

“yes, yes, your godfather —”

“you have a godfather?” you spoke up, curious.

megumi glared at you, eyes narrowed.

“i didn’t know that!” you beamed, looking back at the white-haired man.

you hopped off of the long bench you had been sitting on, approaching megumi without taking your eyes off of the man.

odd, you had thought then. the man looked very different, his hair colour was unique, his style was very questionable too (mainly the sunglasses). his hairstyle made sense, you decided to yourself — it was nearly as messy as megumi’s, but not quite as dishevelled.

you leaned in, placing a hand over your mouth to whisper. megumi did not lean in.

“so is your dads gay?”

he stared at you, startled.

“huh?”

it had been the first time you’d seen megumi appear shocked.

“because — because you have two dads,” you clarified helpfully. megumi still appeared to be taken aback. “so is your dads ga—”

“no,” he answered. “they don’t even like each other —”

“so why do you have two dads?”

“i don’t.”

“oh! is he your grandpapa?” you asked, eyes brightening. the white hair would make sense, then.

“no,” said megumi harshly. “he’s not anything.”

“hm,” you thought, looking at the white-haired man speaking to some other teacher. “so is he alb— albin— alban— is he albanian?”

megumi blinked at you.

“what?”

“don’t make me say it again,” you said. “it’s a hard word.”

“albanian?”

“yeah… i think. is he that?”

megumi stared at you for a short while before looking away, staring at the man you had been gossiping about. it did not click to him for some time, it seemed, for he looked as though he were in a little daydream, thinking about what you had meant. you did not have the energy to repeat yourself: as you had claimed, it was indeed a hard word.

luckily for you, a lightbulb had clicked on in megumi’s brain, and he looked at you with a frown.

“he’s not albino,” he had stated firmly. “do you even know what a godfather is?”

“yes!” you said, defensively. was he seriously accusing you of not knowing what a godfather actually was? how pathetic.

yet that look he was giving you… he was expecting you to give him the definition.

if he wanted to be proved wrong so badly, why didn’t he just say so?

you stood up straight.

“it’s when god picks your dad —”

“no.”

“but my mommy says —”

“no she never.”

you scowled at him. “it’s not my fault your dad is old!”

“he’s not my —”

“megumi!” a cheery, deep voice had interrupted casually. you looked up, a shadow fell over the two of you: it was megumi’s apparent godfather, grinning toothily and quite literally showing off his pearly whites.

from up-close, he looked like more of a giant. he had to be at least eight feel tall, you had decided. maybe home-time was always done outdoors due to people like him — it would be difficult to move past a door frame with ease.

he didn’t have any wrinkles. in fact, his skin looked quite smooth, like the skin of a teenager.

but his hair…

“my son!” said the man, arms wide open as though he were about to engulf a grumpy megumi into a bone-crushing hug — you couldn’t imagine that.

you looked at megumi, who had all but disappeared behind his coat. you resisted the urge to laugh. was megumi embarrassed?

“oh — megumi — finally made a friend?”

the man looked down at you, grinning.

“we’re not friends,” you heard megumi utter, but you ignored him (as per usual).

instead, you directed your attention to the man.

“how old are you?”

you thought you’d heard megumi groan.

the man’s grin had fallen, but reappeared just as fast as it had dropped. he bent down to your height, his arm hanging over his bent knee as he came face-to-face with you.

“why don’t you guess?”

your answer was quick.

“eighty-seven.”

and this time, when his grin had fallen, it had not returned.

“why would you say that?” snapped megumi, who had reappeared from his hiding place behind his coat. he looked irked, irritated, and annoyed. whether it had been at you or his guardian, you had no clue.

“okay… seventy nine?”

“what the hell?” demanded the man. you were unsure at who he was looking at now — his sunglasses were more opaque than they had seemed from afar.

megumi had turned away, something about ‘now i have to deal with it’ — you weren’t quite sure. you frowned, looking back at the man. he looked scandalised, outraged, and disappointed.

your jaw had dropped.

“you just sweared!” you gasped, eyes accusatory. “my mommy says swearing is bad.”

“well your mommy should’ve taught you what an old person looks like,” the man responded, a bite in his tone.

“she did! they’re like you!”

“i am not old!”

“you really aren’t?” you asked, expecting it to do less damage than it actually would.

“i’m not even twenty-one yet!” the man pouted, looking nearly faint.

“really?” you said, eyeing him up and down. “you look like — you look like you’ve — you’ve seen the world. like santa. are you santa? —”

“megumi,” said the man, standing up to his full height and turning away, adjusting the glasses sitting on top of his nose. “we’re leaving.”

“finally.”

you watched them go, frowning when the tall man looked back at you over his shoulder and stuck his tongue out at you. you scowled: father christmas was supposed to be nice to kids. maybe you needed to write a letter to the north pole about a formal complaint on him.

“guys,” you said, turning to look at the remaining kids still waiting for their parents to arrive. “i met father christmas!”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

“i know what godfather means,” you stated proudly.

you and megumi were on the bikes. you had already been seated on one, megumi was starting to climb on the one next to you. he hadn’t looked at you once as he silently placed his feet on the pedals, brows furrowed in concentration as he gripped onto the handles.

“do you want to know what my mommy said?”

you stared at him with wide eyes, smiling despite the fact that nothing was actually amusing; you were still buzzing with excitement about the fact that megumi had a godfather. how sick was that? you’d never met someone with a godfather!

“no,” said megumi, checking the bell and seeing if it was able to ring well.

ding! ding!

“i’m gonna tell you anyways,” you informed him brightly. “my mommy s—”

ding!

you paused, beginning again after you the last ring of the bell had echoed.

“my mommy —”

ding!

“she says —”

ding! ding!

you frowned.

“my mommy says tha—”

ding! ding! ding!

you scowled.

“mommy-says-that-a-godfather —”

ding! ding! ding! ding!

your eyes narrowed as you placed your feet on the pedals and began cycling so that you were now face-to-face with megumi.

“you’re doing that on purpose!” you accused him, a crease formed in between your brows when you furrowed them.

megumi shrugged. “am i?”

“you can’t —” you began, stammering, “you can’t — you can’t answer a question by asking another one.” you shook your head at him. “you just can’t.”

megumi ignored you, taking off by pedalling away from you. you watched him leave, offended, before pedalling faster to catch up with him. several kids were in your way, using hula-hoops and skipping ropes that megumi had skilfully avoided. you, on the other hand, were in a rush to catch up to the boy, so you simply used your bell to alert them of your appearance.

ding! ding!

“‘scuse me! ‘scuse me! coming through!”

you were pretty sure someone fell somewhere behind you; you did not care.

it hadn’t taken long before you’d caught up to megumi. you cycled with him, nearly bumping your bike into his.

“you’re being mean, megumi.”

“ok.”

“anyways, my mommy says a godfather is a dad your parents chosed.”

megumi let out a noise, something between a grunt and a groan. “i don’t want to talk about him.”

“it’s okay! i kept your secret… kind of,” you said, as the both of you turned your bikes in the direction of the open space in the playground.

“secret?” said megumi, glancing at you from the corner of his eye without turning his head.

“mhm!” you nodded, smiling. “your godfather is santa —”

“no he’s no—”

you interrupted him by cheekily bumping your bike with his. his reaction had not been nearly the same as you had initially imagined: instead of being motivated, he nearly fell off his bike and glared at you once he’d regained his balance.

you cleared your throat, pedalling faster as you zoomed past him.

“race you!”

you hadn’t expected to actually hear a pair of wheels following after you. but you had slowly started to grow aware of the subtle surprises megumi could bring you.

later on that day, you hadn’t felt like going back to miss huckleberry’s class. when you had told megumi that your class were going to do a colouring task together, megumi had revealed that his class were going to do a painting task together. immediately you longed for the paints rather than the colouring pencils.

it wouldn��t be you if you never tried to do something about it; feeling adventurous, when the call had been given for all kids to go back to their respective classrooms, you had followed megumi back inside the door opposite yours.

he hadn’t noticed you then, perhaps that had been the reason why he’d given you an odd look when you took the empty seat beside him on the carpet.

“you’re not allowed here.”

“‘course i am!” you replied, smiling as you sat just like him — criss-cross-apple-sauce.

you smoothed out the creases on your dress as he gave you a blank look.

“you’ll get in trouble,” he informed you as though you’d been blissfully unaware (to him, it seemed like you were).

“if you keep saying stuff like that it means that you care if i — if i get in trouble so yeah.”

he gave you a look of disgust before he turned to face the board in front of the two of you, apparently careless.

“i don’t,” he said, with a tone of finality.

you shrugged, humming to yourself as you tightened the pigtails in your hair. you liked to think that he did care, even if it was quite obvious that he did not.

as the rest of the class had nearly finished filing in and taking their seats on the carpet, ms turner had sat on the chair by the teacher’s desk, looking around at you all. you watched as her big, round eyes had passed you naturally, before they’d darted back to you in surprise.

“y/n?” she voiced aloud.

megumi let out a scoff.

“told you,” he muttered, a hand over his mouth as he rested an elbow on his knee; you ignored him.

“yes miss?” you said, as though you were unaware of what was happening.

ms turner tilted her head at you, brows knitted together.

“why are you here?” she asked you, with genuine curiosity. there was no bite in her question either.

“i don’t want to draw and colour things because i think it’s boring,” you answered truthfully. “and i don’t like the ginger lady in my class so yeah. and i like painting and i like the thingy with the water paints.”

“does miss huckleberry know you’re here?”

you shook your head.

but perhaps that had been a mistake, for you had been walked back to your classroom once more (your protests fell on deaf ears).

however, that hadn't stopped you from constantly going back, returning once more to the seat beside megumi.

the second time you had wrongly and happily entered his classroom, you made your way down to the carpet space, ready to occupy the usually-vacant seat next to megumi, only to find that the seat had been used by megumi's knee. he'd still been sitting criss-cross-apple-sauce, of course, yet his right knee had been extended to the point where a little more than half the space had been taken.

he looked up at you once he had noticed your shadow fall over his lap. he moved his knee back in place, a blank look on his face as he did so.

"did you just put your foot on that seat?" you asked, a brow raised in disgust.

"... ye—"

"well now i can't sit there because i don't know where your foot has been and it might be dirty," you said, walking around him to sit on the vacant seat on his left instead.

his eyes followed you as you moved. you could not gauge out the expression on his face: megumi was simply too hard to read, and it bothered you a bit, but not enough to make you complain too much.

it had taken a total of twenty minutes and fifty-one seconds before you'd been spotted and then escorted out of the classroom that day.

on another random day, a similar scenario had occurred where you'd been dropped off at your actual classroom by your mother, but you swerved past the door to enter the one opposite. your mother had not questioned it, deciding that during school hours, you were not her responsibility (thank god).

when you walked over to the carpet-space, you'd seen that megumi had already arrived, only, his hand was now facing palm-down on your favourite seat. you approached him as you passed a disheartened girl (inaya farhat) who'd just had a short conversation with megumi.

he looked up at you, slowly removing his hand and placing it back on his lap.

"did you just put your hand on my seat?" you asked, disgusted once again.

he glared at you.

"yes."

the way in which he was glaring at you had you concerned (just the slightest bit). the intensity behind the way in which he looked at you had also frightened you, he looked as though you had insulted his entire family (arguably, you were nearly there).

"erm — yeah, so i hope your hand's not dirty," you said, leisurely sitting down on your designated seat. "like — like picking your nose or scratching your bum —"

"i'm not veera," said megumi.

you frowned.

"who's veera?"

megumi faced the board, answering without sparing you another glance.

"if you stay in this class, you'll find out."

and you did.

you had remained in the class for days after that. it became so normalised for you to be there, that even your mother would drop you off at the opposite door of your original class without question: at some point that month, your full name had been transferred from register-to-register — megumi hadn't been bothered by that, but he became quite aggressive when you kept rubbing it in his face:

"remember when you said i wasn't allowed to —"

"i get it!"

on one particular afternoon, where parents and carers were allowed to enter the classroom and observe the work their kids had done in their respective books before collecting them, you had found yourself in a sticky situation.

after megumi's father had come in (and quite literally stood at the back and simply nodded his head at his son in acknowledgment), you and megumi had gotten into a heated debate about which types of books were better. where you were more interested in fiction and fake reality, megumi argued that non-fiction and actuality was better.

you strongly disagreed, so you attempted to prove your point by leading him to the book corner and pulling out some of your personal favourites, one of them being 'the hungry caterpillar'.

"i like this one," you told him, handing the book over to him. he looked skeptical as he flipped through the pages. "and you can't say it's not even real because it is."

"hmph," said megumi, looking grumpy.

he didn't look as displeased with your suggestions as he usually did, so you decided that you'd won him over.

"what else?" he asked.

you beamed, hurriedly bending down to where you'd hidden your most precious book. your little hand plunged itself underneath the shelf and searched for it with earnest, pulling it out once you'd felt its laminated cover beneath your skin.

"this one," you said, standing back up and presenting it to him. again, he looked skeptical, but you had won him over once, surely you could do it a second time? "noisy nora."

he took the book from your hands and, like before, skimmed through it. his face scrunched up in disgust.

"that one is my most bestest book in the whole wide wor—"

"rats can't speak."

you looked up; megumi was stoic.

your smile had turned to a scowl.

"well jokes on you, nora's not a rat. she's a mouse."

megumi ignored you, going over to his side of the book corner where the non-fiction books were kept and pulled out a large one, pages thin and smooth. he turned around and showed it to you as you bent back down and shoved 'noisy nora' back under the book shelf.

from where you were sat on your knees, you could see that the title of megumi's book read 'how a caterpillar turns into a butterfly'.

you stood back up again, analysing the cover.

"looks boring," you commented.

"it's real."

"'the hungry caterpillar' tells a real story."

you walked away from the book corner and megumi followed, still looking very unimpressed with your opinion on his most favourite book.

however, as you aimed to make your way to the toy box, you stopped just as you'd entered the carpet space at the sound of a baby. your face formed an expression of confusion. what was a baby doing here at the kindergarten?

you turned in the direction of where the sound was coming from. megumi had been quietly complaining about something, but his discontent had fallen on deaf ears, for your eyes were focused on the blonde, snotty child wobbling towards you, her blue eyes wide with excitement.

spit bubbled at the corner of her mouth, the same mouth that was slowly taking in all the snot running down her nose.

your eyes widened, horrified at the sight before you. the sight that was slowly reaching you.

"ew," you said, watching as the child wobbled and clapped her hands — one hand gripped onto a baby-blue pacifier.

"ew..." you repeated, when the same child had dropped her pacifier on the floor.

"EW!" you cried, when the child locked eye contact with you and waddled closer.

"veeraaa!" the child sang, voice high as she nearly toppled over with her uneven balance. some of her spit had dropped onto the floor, gooey and... was that a tint of green?

"EWWWW!" you cried, making an attempt to run away but realising that megumi was behind you, resistant to your constant pushing. "OH MY GOD — OH MY GOD —"

your cries had caught the attention of nearly everyone else in the room, wondering what had been causing such a ruckus.

you felt like crying when the disgusting baby still managed to walk.

"veeeraaaaa —"

"EEEEEWWWWWWW!" you shouted, struggling to push megumi away so you could run.

the blonde kid was nearly a whole metre away from you now, giggling and singing her own name.

you'd had enough — a metre was simply too close for you.

"hey — what're you —"

yelling out your disgust, your hands grabbed onto megumi and pulled him in front of you, pushing him towards the child and practically using him as a human shield. better him than you, you'd concluded.

"veeeeraaaa!"

"AAAHH — EWWWW!"

"veeeraaa —"

"what the hell?" snapped megumi, taking several steps back in an attempt to distance himself from veera.

slowly, the disgust that you held had somehow divided so that the rest of the kids held the same sentiment. all of your classmates had begun screaming: 'ew's could be heard all around you: kids made attempts to jump over tables and chairs to get away from the blonde baby, parents were used as hiding objects so their children could stand behind them, and the blonde baby turned her attention elsewhere, approaching ruth smith who burst into tears when she waddled over to him.

the baby looked at you and megumi again. amongst all the screaming and yelling, yours still managed to be the loudest.

"EEEWW!" you cried, pushing megumi forward again. he was resistant. "MEGUMI —"

"veeeeraaa," veera sang, as sofia rylee shouted at you to run. "veeeraaa —"

"my name's megumi," said megumi, sounding annoyed and offended.

the commotion had slowly started to end when another blonde woman (who you assumed was veera's mother) ran over and picked her up, holding her in her arms as she stared at you, looking very, very offended.

you didn't care. that child of hers was disgusting, this should be a lesson to her, you had decided.

and somehow you were left out of breath, panting and exhaling as the woman turned and left, followed by miss huckleberry who had appeared out of thin air.

"that was scary," you commented, a hand pressed against your chest dramatically. "so scary."

megumi had finally turned around and regarded you with a glare.

"oh yeah?" he challenged, angry. "did you get pushed to her?"

your hand been returned back to your side.

"i had to save myself!" you explained, unable to understand megumi's anger towards you. "you would do the same!"

"no i wouldn't," said megumi. "you had more than enough room to run."

his arm had been extended to present to you the space that you neglected.

before you could respond, miss huckleberry's voice had cut through the air sharply.

"mr fushiguro!" she'd said, and both you and megumi had looked up to see what had happened.

megumi's dad was leaning against the wall, which may have looked rather innocent... till you'd squinted your eyes and caught him smiling. when miss huckleberry had appeared from chasing after the woman that had left, affronted, you had no idea, but she was here, and condemning megumi's father for his silent actions.

megumi's father simply shrugged, and megumi himself walked away, apparently embarrassed.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

you and megumi found yourself seated at your specific spaces on the carpet, arguing about a situation that had occurred merely a day prior. ever since the veera incident, everyone in your new class seemed to know your name (and just how you were like). the news had also somehow travelled to your original class, and during play time, kimberly had asked what had happened: you brushed it off, claiming that any allegations against you were untrue.

that same day, you'd even waltzed back into your old classroom saying that you no longer wanted to be part of the other class, your disgust with veera taking over any other conscious part of your mind. miss huckleberry hadn't been impressed:

"no, y/n," she'd said, sounding firm. "go back to your class."

"that's not my class anymore," you'd attempted to persuade her. you looked at megumi, who had been giving you an odd look from the door. you approached him and pulled his arm. "c'mon megumi, let's go together!"

he had not complied.

that led you to the discussion you'd been having with megumi now, both stubborn in your points.

"you never got in trouble," you told megumi, scoffing when he'd told you about how miss huckleberry had given him an earful (though apparently, she'd been a lot more gentle about it than she had with you).

"i did," said megumi, defiant. he looked away, a hand resting over his mouth to muffle his final comment. "my stupid dad didn't help either."

"what was that?"

"nothing."

"oh okay."

it hadn't taken long for the rest of the class to follow, the carpet space now being taken up by the bottoms of each and every individual that had attended the kindergarten that day.

usually the class would start by singing a nursery rhyme together (megumi would turn extra grumpy during those) but on that particular day, miss turner had decided to do something different. you had noticed how smiley she'd been that morning, but had never questioned it: she looked rather pretty when she smiled.

"so instead of our usual nursery rhymes..." she began, creating suspense, "we're going to do something a little more special today!"

you all looked at each other, confused and excited. you felt giddy in your seat, your legs shaking in anticipation. when you'd looked at megumi, you could see the interest in his face even if he tried his best to hide it.

"so all of you are going to partner up with somebody, it can be anyone you like," said miss turner, arms spread out to represent you all, "and together, you'll make a story! it can be about anything you want, anything in the big wide world. does everyone understand?"

everyone nodded excitedly, several 'yes's could be heard as everyone had stood up, looking around for partners. you'd seen cameron peterski and kamenova petrova hold hands and skip away. you walked into the huddle of peers, spinning on the spot in an attempt to make eye contact with one of the girls.

zuri camara had come into view, and you had half a mind to ask her to be partners with you, only, you'd been reminded of the time when she had worn your costume (it was the school's property, but everyone knew that dress was practically owned by you).

so you turned away, back towards her as you approached your seat once more. megumi had been standing by it, looking at you and promptly ignoring denis ivanov, who'd been attempting to catch his attention. you grinned, skipping forward and pulling megumi by the arm.

"megumi you're my partner because i said so!"

he did not respond, but you found that pulling him to the table on the far right had been much easier than you'd expected.

"okay so i want to make a story about a princess —"

"no."

you frowned at him, pulling the a4 sheet of paper towards you. megumi had the pencil in his hand, still out of reach.

"what do you want to write about, dinosaurs then?" you mocked him, rolling your eyes. "oh — oh i forgot — you'll probably say it's not even real right?"

megumi, with his fingers still protecting the pencil from your clutches, stared at you, deadpanned.

"they were real," he said, matter-of-factly. "they were alive sixty five million, billion... trillion years ago."

you scoffed, unsure of whether to believe him or not. you decided not to question him, with his history of constantly being right, you knew better than to make a fool of yourself again.

"i want to make a story about a caterpillar turning into a butterfly."

"that is the most boring-est, boring story ever," you stated, unimpressed. "in the whole wide world."

megumi scowled at you. you continued.

"and everyone's gonna fall asleep like this, look."

you demonstrated the snoring of what you imagined your peers would do at the sound of megumi's story, your forehead falling flat on the table and your pretend snores being very loud. you raised your head once more, noticing how megumi hadn't been looking. persistent, you grabbed onto his face and turned it to face you.

"you're not looking, look!"

you imitated it again, ignoring the way he'd slapped your hand off his face. your pretend snores had grown louder and megumi did not look pleased.

"you sound like a pig," he said, coldly.

"well — well you are just a rude-o."

"not a word."

"but my mommy says —"

however you had been cut off by megumi's stern look, one that practically screamed 'don't try it'.

"fine," you said, sighing. "let's play scissors-paper-rock."

"you mean rock-paper-scissors?"

you made a motion of almost choking the dark-haired boy, but stopped yourself despite your frustrations. and all the while, megumi had not once flinched. instead, he'd given you a look of annoyance.

rock-paper-scissors had not gone well with you. you'd played three rounds, and after losing two out of the three, you'd begged to play another round, upset with your chances of losing. megumi had refused, but surprisingly, had agreed to meet you half-way, offering a compromise.

"it's still about caterpillars and butterflies," said megumi, firmly, "but you can..." he sighed, looking as though it were physically hurting him to speak. "you can... make it less... real."

you beamed, clapping your hands excitedly and then making an attempt to grab the pencil from him once more. megumi immediately recoiled, pulling it away from you with a sharp gaze.

"but not too much," he said.

shortly after, you and megumi had started writing out your story. however, it hadn't gone as easy as you had initially expected: the road to completing the plot of your story was long and bumpy, you had been met with several obstacles along the way.

"moths can't be friends with butterflies," megumi said after you'd explained the introduction of a new character (the moth).

"you said i could make it how i want!" you argued, defensive. "well that just — that just — it means that you're just a liar then."

"says the biggest liar in this class —"

"MIIIIIIIISS!"

but that hadn't been the only issue:

"that's not how you spell 'caterpillar'," megumi commented, peering over your shoulder after he'd reluctantly handed the pencil over to you.

you looked down at your writing: cadrrpileer.

"that's not how you spell 'butterfly'."

again, you looked down at your writing: buddrflee.

"that's not how you spell moth."

once more, you looked down at your writing: moff.

irritated, you slammed the pencil down over the paper and slid the sheet over to megumi.

"well maybe you should write then!"

megumi made no complaints about taking the pencil.

"you were begging to write."

"yeah well — well — well i don't need a negative nancy next to me all them times i keep writing."

"that... made no sense."

"just write fushigo!"

"fushi-guro."

your assigned hour had been up, and when everyone had been seated on the carpet once more — rehearsing their lines in preparation to present — you and megumi read over the paper you had over and over again. really, you believed that you could recite the story without the paper, but megumi had been insistent on keeping the paper just in case.

he'd been very angry when you'd volunteered to go first together after miss turner had asked 'does anyone want to start us off?'.

so the two of you found yourself standing at the front of the class, clearing your throats in preparation. the classroom looked extremely big from where you'd been standing. having all eyes trained on you felt odd, but you were confident that your story would surprise them all.

"once upon a time, there was two caterpillars," you began, slowly.

"were," corrected megumi, shaking the sheet of paper. he'd turned to where miss turner was sitting at her desk. "miss she's not following the script."

miss turner’s brows had raised at megumi’s comment, visibly surprised. it was understandable, you concluded, for it was not as though the partners had been assigned — they were chosen. how had the two of you already fallen into a dark pit of issues?

"megumi, we can still continue with the story, it's fine," said miss turner, just as you'd stared at megumi with an affronted expression.

the rest of the class did not seem phased by the sudden intrusion, still patiently waiting for the story to continue seeing as it had barely even started yet.

"anyways… after one day, one of the caterpillars turned into a beautiful butterfly," you explained, your arms spread wide to suggest just how pretty you had imagined the butterfly to be.

"the other caterpillar is left behind —"

"yeah that caterpillar's slow for some reason," you interrupted, shrugging when megumi glared at you, waving the paper to remind you of the script.

you slapped the paper, holding back a laugh when megumi's glare had hardened (if possible).

he hastily took a step away from you as though you’d burned him and the paper in his hand. he cleared his throat; you could tell he was irritated.

"the caterpillar doesn't recognise the butterfly anymore," said megumi, sounding way too blunt for your liking.

there were gasps in the audience, and you watched as everyone's big eyes remained focused on you and megumi. you smiled toothily.

"but — like — later, the butterfly makes the caterpillar remember," you added, for once, following the script as megumi cautiously held the paper up for you to read from. "and they're still best friends. but then butterfly meets another butterfly, and they become best friends too!"

"the caterpillar feels left out and then meets the moth," said megumi, staring at the audience with a blank expression. "and they become friends even though that's not even real."

you turned to miss turner, feeling insulted that megumi had the audacity to snitch on you when he had basically done the same thing.

"miss, that wasn't in the script."

miss turner sighed, shaking her head at you with a smile. "guys."

"okay, okay!" you said. "megumi, say it."

"the caterpillar goes inside the cocoon," he said on your command, though he'd been resisting the urge to add 'the only real part'.

"afterwards, after a very, very, very, very, very long time," you said, attempting to create suspense, though you could feel megumi's eyes digging holes in your cheek to get you to hurry up, "the butterfly is not friends with the other butterfly anymore."

"the moth flies away and the caterpillar comes out but oh no it's not a caterpillar anymore," recited megumi, reading from the paper, monotoned. he looked up, making eye contact with the audience. "i didn't write that."

you snatched the paper from him, annoyed with his lack of effort in bringing emotion to the story.

"but oh no!" you read, enthusiasm in your voice as you expressed how disheartened the narrator should have been, "it's not a caterpillar anymore!"

"i just said that."

"porcupine!" you snapped. you handed him the paper again, smiling at the audience, unaware of the glare he was directing at you. "the caterpillar is now a butterfly, and the other butterfly doesn't re— re— rec—"

"recognise —"

"yeah that — the butterfly!" you finished off, grateful for megumi's intervention.

"and that's the end of the story," stated megumi.

you grinned. "the end!"

an awkward silence had followed after that. megumi had scrunched up the paper in his small fist, which had been the only noise in the room full of pin-drop silence. all of the kids had been staring at you, as if waiting for you to yell out 'just kidding!' and then continue the story, but it had become quite clear that that wouldn't happen, especially when the two of you glanced at miss turner to prove that you'd finished your lovely story.

"tha— that's the end?" asked miss turner, brown eyes darting from you to megumi and back again, expectantly.

you nodded.

"yep."

"yeah."

"but what happened to the butterflies?" someone had called out — it was noah fisher.

"nothing," you answered.

but it seemed that your classmates’ interest in your story had not been completely satisfied.

"did they not realise each other?" hayley bergmann called out, looking upset and curious.

"no," said megumi, straight-forward.

"why?" said christian de groot.

"because — because — that's just how it is," you shrugged.

"life is sad," commented megumi.

another silence had followed after that, till miss turner had finally come to the acceptance that your story truly had ended the way it did.

"okay, well... that's y/n and megumi's story, guys! round of applause!"

but the giant applause you'd been waiting for had not arrived. instead, the claps were slow, out of beat, and awkward, as if they were still in shock and denial about the ending of your story.

irked, your brows had furrowed deeply, your arms folded across your chest as you demanded them to "clap!".

and they did, at some point, and you'd stepped back again, standing side-by-side with megumi, a smile finally gracing your delicate features.

"look, porcupine! they're clapping for us!"

“it’s not like you barked at them to or anything,” grunted megumi, and as though he’d been slapped with knowledge, he glared at you. “and stop calling me that.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

your teachers did not believe you when you told them that you much preferred to stay indoors than go outside. you didn't understand how they'd come to that conclusion when even in the kindergarten, your time was always spent more by the bookshelf than outside in the playground. the only time that you’d actively seek to go outside for a change was when the bikes were free to use (though sometimes your impatience would force the other kids to simply give up and get off the bikes for you).

so when your mother had called you over at the sound of the doorbell (which you had promptly ignored for the sake of watching your favourite cartoons) you audibly groaned, but obediently switched the tv off and made your way over to the front door.

surprised, perplexed, yet pleased, you’d been met with the sight of megumi standing by the door across from your mother, a soccer ball in his hands and sporting the same stoic expression as per usual.

your mother looked very confused, almost as though megumi was not real — as though someone had been playing a sick trick on her. someone really wants to play with that kid? she’d thought in her head when megumi had asked if you were free to play in the neighbourhood.

you skipped past your mom, tightening the ribbon in your hair and smiling. you looked up at her, ready to inform her of the fact that you would stay in the area and not run off (even if you had the carnal desire to give her a good scare).

“i’m just gonna play with megumi okay?” you told her, and though it’d been posed as a question, you knew it was a statement.

you’d ignored the odd look she’d given both you and megumi, her eyes darting from you to him and back again.

“megumi?” said mom, gazing at the dark-haired boy with curiosity. she could have sworn that he had been the very child you’d been annoyed with not even a month ago.

you sighed, irritated.

“i won’t run away like last time mommy.”

megumi gave you a pointed look. you narrowed your eyes at him.

“it was on — it was on accident.” you turned to your (still very confused) mother. “i’ll just play with megumi now so yeah.”

but she looked as though she had missed several pages on a very interesting book she’d been reading. megumi spoke up not too long after.

“my mom said she’ll watch us.”

and whether that had been to comfort your own mother (the woman still kept the same expression on her face) or to hurry things up, you never knew, for you’d grown very impatient and simply couldn’t wait any longer. you stepped outside and waved goodbye to your mom, who raised her hand in what she probably thought was a wave back, though it looked like anything but.

that day, megumi’s mother had walked you back to your home just before sunset, your sour mood now dissipated.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

bonus scene:

"a toast to the academic year of two-thousand-seven-to-eight being officially completed!"

clink!

the staff room meant for the kindergarten teachers had been packed. the teachers sat around a squared table, drinks in hand and food scattered around as though the queen were to arrive at any passing second. some teachers were standing up, others were sitting. all, however, had made a toast to the end of the academic year.

the main two teachers of both classes had sat together at the head of the stable: miss huckleberry and miss turner. every other teacher that had played the role as the assistant or substitute had been present too.

"can we talk about how this was probably the hardest year to manage?" said miss huckleberry, but only after taking a giant gulp of whatever sparkling drink she'd chosen to quench her thirst.

there were several murmurs of agreement. mr adams (who had been a consecutive substitute for miss huckleberry's class during september) had practically shouted out his agreement.

"you don't know how many times i had to deal with a child crying because they've got 'the booger touch'," miss huckleberry announced, sighing.

"what even is that?" one of the first aid nurses asked.

"i wish i knew."

a lot of the teachers laughed, speaking in hushed tones on their theories of what the 'booger touch' is and how it even started. the teacher assistant for miss huckleberry's class had spoken up during that time.

"wait, but, can i tell you what i found the most weirdest thing back in... i don't know... october-ish?"

she tucked a messy strand of her ginger hair behind her ears as the others looked up with mild interest.

"the oddest pair on this planet," she'd started, "megumi and y/n."

"no you mean y/n and megumi," laughed miss turner, who had finally voiced her own opinion seeing as the two kids had been in her class for the previous year; meanwhile there'd been a chorus of laughter and yells of agreement from all the other teachers.

"yep, for sure —"

"never thought i'd see them being friends —"

"two completely different people —"

"wait, wait! wait! was megumi the kid with that grumpy face twenty-four-seven?" asked mr jenkins, raising the hand that was holding his glass of champagne to emphasise his confusion.

the teachers nodded in response; he laughed boisterously.

"yeah i never saw that coming, that kid never wanted to play with anyone!"

miss turner smiled. "he was a little... anti-social."

"he was more than anti-social," interrupted miss huckleberry. "i had to deal with so many crying kids because of him."

"i don't know how he ended up being friends with y/n of all people," said ms begum, adjusting the green hijab on her head. she had been the substitute for miss turner's class whenever she'd been ill.

"right?" laughed mr adams.

miss huckleberry shook her head. "that kid was a menace."

"oh don't say that!" scolded miss turner, tapping miss huckleberry's arm firmly. "she was so bubbly and funny!"

"but it makes sense!" said the first aid nurse, picking up a chocolate cupcake and taking a small bite out of it.

several teachers disagreed, shaking their heads and voicing their thoughts.

"no, hear — hear me out!" she called out, struggling to speak with the cupcake. she swallowed and then continued. "y/n was always really loud and social and talkative and — you get the idea, but megumi wasn't. for lack of better word, y/n was a menace on her own but megumi wasn't exactly like that... and when they ended up being friends —"

"i see it now," hummed ms begum, pouring herself some of the apple juice. "does everyone remember the veera incident?"

she had barely completed the last syllable before the teachers had spoken over each other again, loud and excited. miss turner laughed, but miss huckleberry had rolled her eyes.

"do i remember? i had to deal with the mother!" she exclaimed, her drink now completely finished. she poured herself another full glass.

"before y/n got moved to your class," said the nurse, gesturing to miss turner, "any time veera came over, the kids were fine. megumi was fine."

"okay but let's be honest," said mr adams, slowly. "that veera child made me want to vomit —"

"william!"

"mr adams!"

"i can't deny it, i'm sorry! it is what it is!" mr adams spoke up over the teachers. "that child needed to learn hygiene first!”

although there were many shouts of protests, it could be heard how weak they'd sounded, almost as though the teachers wanted to disagree, but logically, they could not. picturing the child in question only made mr johnson actually gag.

"but who would you say is worse, y/n or megumi?" asked the teacher assistant. "y/n for sure."

"agreed."

"definitely y/n."

"but y/n's never actually made a kid cry —"

"yes she has!"

"but so has megumi."

"i think the point is," said mrs holly, placing a watermelon slice on her paper plate, "that they are definitely the oddest duo we've seen in teaching so far."

"i think they made the year so much more tiring," sighed miss huckleberry.

following her statement, there were sighs of agreement. some teachers had promptly disagreed, claiming that the duo had, in turn, made teaching a little more fun. miss turner had stated that you were a wonderful addition to her class. ever since you had joined, megumi was a little more spoken.

"but megumi," added mr johnson, pinching the bridge of his nose, "that child — is he even a child?"

mrs holly laughed at that.

"whatever do you mean?" she'd asked, biting back a smile despite her obvious curiosity.

"well we all know his favourite quote," chortled miss turner, actually heartily laughing when some of the teachers had quoted him simultaneously.

"'that's not even real'!"

they all burst into fits of chuckles and laughter, some teachers having lagged behind on the quote and finishing a little while after (mr adams had practically sang the quote).

mrs holly, still chuckling, referred back to her initial question.

"so what about that makes him unlike a regular child?"

"THE KID READS NON-FICTION BOOKS, come on!"

"and i can't remember a single time where we all sat together in a circle for story time and megumi didn't mutter 'that's not even real' — 'birds don't talk' — under his breath," said miss huckleberry, helping herself to some of the desserts placed on the silver platter. "menace."

"can confirm," nodded miss turner. "but i rarely ever had to actually scold him. y/n would do it for me."

"one thing about y/n," said ms begum, trying not to laugh mid-sentence, "was that she always kept megumi in check."

"no," said mr jenkins. "i'd argue that he kept her in check."

"nobody can keep y/n in check. not even her own mother," ms begum responded curtly.

"no, i think that was the issue," said mr adams thoughtfully. "they're both so different, they tried keeping each other in check. but then that always led to them fighting."

"fighting?"

"i thought they were friends?"

"again: odd duo."

mr adams shook his head. "they were weirdos. they'd argue for a second, and then be friends after."

miss turner nodded. "true. did i ever tell you guys about their book wars?"

"no —"

"no? —"

"i've seen it happen," said the first aid nurse. "they'd fight over their favourite books and then because they both have completely different tastes —"

"the only time i can say y/n acts like a normal child," miss huckleberry whispered, her voice hushed.

"— they'd end up actually fighting each other."

the teacher assistant rolled her eyes. "should we all take a guess on who hit who first?"

"y/n —"

"no question: y/n —"

"definitely y/n —"

"ally?" said mrs holly, asking for confirmation from your class teacher: miss turner nodded.

all the adults in the room sighed, laughed, and commented their thoughts: it was mainly not a surprise to either one of them that you chose to get physical first — you were rather 'passionate', as mr jenkins had put it.

"but you know, the surprising thing was," said miss turner, louder than the other voices in the room in order to grab everyone's undivided attention, "megumi seemed to always let her."

mr johnson frowned, walking around the staff room to get the cinnamon rolls on the farthest end of the table. "let her what?"

"hit him," answered miss turner, as each of their faces presented their shock:

miss huckleberry's brows had raised notably, ms begum had tilted her head with her brows furrowed in obvious uncertainty, and mr jenkins' face morphed into an expression that quite literally screamed 'not possible'. but it had not been them who had voiced their thoughts following the amazing revelation.

"i wholeheartedly believe you," said the nurse, nodding her head leisurely. at the sight of all the other unresponsive teachers (save for the murmuring between mr adams and mrs holly), the nurse had decided that an explanation was due. "back in january, you know james? the kid with the buzzcut?"

the other teachers nodded, some remained unacquainted with said boy yet waved their hands to have the nurse continue anyway.

"he hit megumi over something stupid — can't remember. but megumi didn't just let that slide: i had a sobbing james sitting in my office with a bruised up eye!"

"yes, i remember that," mumbled miss turner, a hand on her chin as she rested her elbow on the table; meanwhile the others were gasping and exchanging odd looks. "not my favourite megumi moment, to be fair."

"he could have done the same to y/n," shrugged the nurse. "i know he could."

"arguably, y/n is a scary girl," said mr john, lowly. "what — don't look at me like that — she terrified me sometimes! and i've seen the way she fought that other kid — what's his name —"

"clarke!" said miss huckleberry, "yes, it was clarke!"

"irrespective of who she's beaten up," tutted the nurse, rolling her grey eyes, "it's clear that megumi has always had the potential to do what he did to james, to her. he just never did."

"that's why i said she kept him in check," added ms begum, a finality in her tone as she gazed at mr jenkins with a raised brow.

"anyway, when y/n moved to your class, ally, i never bothered trying to get her back," said miss huckleberry, pushing her glass of whatever sparkling drink she'd chosen away from herself.

"i could tell," miss turner responded, smiling despite it all.

mr adams laughed. "i still don't know how she somehow managed to sneak back into your class and throw apple juice on —"

the very person you'd thrown apple juice on (and accused them of pissing themselves) had now looked up, alert and embarrassed. the teacher assistant who you had declared war on months prior now felt tears welling up in her eyes as she stood up, glaring at mr adams as everyone averted their gazes awkwardly.

"we all promised not to ever mention that again," she said, bottom lip wobbling as she walked around the table to get to the door despite all the teachers calling her back. she ignored them as she reached the door.

"oh, come on, poppy!"

"he didn't mean it like that —"

"yeah, come back!"

"why would you mention something like that?" she weeped, her face a dark shade of red that did much to conceal her dotted freckles. she opened the door, her body half-in and half-out. "why would you say that when you know it surrounds us all in negativity —"

but before mr adams could backtrack on his comment (and his laughter) the teacher assistant had already left the room.

they all sighed:

even after your departure, you had still managed to cause problems somehow.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

next chapter :)

notes: chapter 2 will take a little while to get out but i swear it will be released at some point!

i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.

if you enjoyed my writing, i’d really appreciate it if you tipped me — tumblr no longer has the tip function, so maybe here in my tip jar :)

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neuvistar · 9 months ago

Text

BIOHAZARDOUS ! signed: satoru gojo . wc 2.3k

— featuring ┊satoru gojo x fem!reader (bits of suguru)

— warnings / content warnings ┊all consensual! heated arguments (quite literally heated), mentions of cheating, toxic behaviours (don’t date red flags guys), car sex, vaginal fingering, titsucking, riding, he’s kinda mean here ngl . 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. | 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐎 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔’𝐒 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐄? (tbd soon.) tags. @yuutx

— a/n ┊ok guys ☝️🤓 so the whole point of this title is kinda ironic… yk how the definition of biozardous is like it’s toxic n shit n poses a threat 2 humans??? YEAH. it’s like how toxic n stupid people poses a threat 2 everyone bc of their toxicity n how it’s dangerous (don’t get into relationships w red flags guys 🙅‍♀️) this is also a make-up post for not posting my silly tattoo artist blade sooner but it’ll be posted at some point!! AND guys i love gojo i swear i don’t see him like this at all!!! this was jus created all bc of that one frat boy art i saw 😢

suguru crossed his arms over his broad chest, his hard stare drilling into one of the motorcycles he was inspecting. he chuffs out a gentle laugh, knowing exactly what was wrong with the bike before leaning down with his screwdriver, unscrewing a few screws here and there. his ears picked up the sound of footsteps, glancing to his side.. his eyes follow your every movement, a mixture of gentleness and curiosity in his gaze. he watches as you turn away from his direction, packing your bag thoroughly. he can't help but take in the view of your hair. you’ve.. always been beautiful to him, but his thoughts are quickly pushed aside as he clears his throat and calls out to you, “leaving already?” his gaze was soft, soft as they always were, the creaking of the metal echoed through the garage while you gathered everything.

“yeah, my boyfriend’s pissed. i didn’t tell him i was working for you here,”

“yeah? he’s that type of guy?” suguru cocked his brow at you, holding the screwdriver firmly against his palms, “y’know, sweetheart.. i’m not sure if you can handle satoru. listen, i’ve heard some things about him. i know i can’t be judging your new relationship but i don’t think he’s good for you.” you pause, eyes lingering momentarily on him, lips curving into a grin. “i’ll be fine, suguru. i know he’s far different from you, but i think i’m alright, thank you for checking up on me.”

suguru’s eyebrows furrow, the hint of concern marrying his otherwise stoic facade. he nods, walking over as his towering stature looms over you, offering a semblance of protection despite the bond that faded away between you and him. "alright, i believe that.” he waves a hand dismissively, shooing away any lingering doubts or fears, even as his own heart rate accelerates with the aspect of more challenges, he was worried about you. he watched you finish packing, holding the bag firmly against your side, “i’ll be off then. i’ll see you tomorrow.” just as you were about to exit, suguru immediately took your hand in his, rubbing his thumb against your skin, “wait.” he stared at you with a sense of worry, pressing your hand against his cheek. “.. if you ever want us to go back to how we used to be.. i would accept that in a heartbeat. you know that, right?”

“yes. yes i’m aware.”

“ … i’m glad.”

…

yet to your dismay, your boyfriend saw and watched the entire thing while he was inside his car, seeing it all unfold right infront of his eyes. satoru bit the side of his mouth, clenching his jaw as frustration flowed through his veins. you had a lot of explaining to do.

you knew he saw, you knew that fact for sure. you were dreading every step you took to his car, but you couldn’t afford losing your composure now.. you had to act natural. once you opened the car door, you were met with a familiar silence that caved in between the both of you. three.. two.. one..“well, i hope you come bearing good news.” and.. there it was. you couldn’t help but glance towards his direction, a firm yet smug expression on his face. you sat there with your knuckles all white, from how tightly you were gripping your bag. “satoru.”

satoru groaned, rolling his eyes at your stern tone, knowing you were about to ramble him on how he shouldn’t be jealous because of something small like this. "you think i’m blind, huh? i’m practically a natural, baby," he retorted, attempting to lean against the window of his car beside him, "still not over him?" his grin was crooked as he tried to hide the smugness. "you think you found someone better than me?”

“toru, why are you always like this? every single damn time, it’s getting repetitive.” you turned away from him, staring off into the sunset, his voice ringing inside your ears. “i could say the same thing about you, [name]. you go crazy even at the sight of another girl being in my presence. so i think this is even.. am i right?”

“does that girl you hooked up with a few months ago count as even to me just speaking to someone i used to be acquainted with? you’re insane.”

"oh, come now," satoru drawled with a click of his tongue, rubbing his temple. you knew you were getting on his nerves, but that didn’t matter in a situation like this! "you don't seem to understand what i’m sayin’ at all. she was just a hook up. nothing more. it’s been months, baby. plus, weren’t we on a break?”

“nothing more? are you just disregarding the fact you practically cheated on me? even if we were on a damn break, that doesn’t mean you can go whoring around with another woman behind my back. are you fucking sick?”

despite the irritation twisting his face, satoru forced a smile. “and i suppose you're here to save poor, fragile me from my own recklessness? how cute." he chuckled softly, his eyes filled with mockery. "if you really cared, you wouldn't be working for your ex when i told you not to.” your body paused, frozen in place. amidst the silence, he could tell there was pure frustration radiating from your body. you glanced at him, raising a brow. “excuse me? why are you dragging suguru into this.. he hasn’t done anything!”

satoru raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming on his lips as he noticed your reaction. "he has. he dated you.” he chuckled dryly, shifting uncomfortably on the car seat. "working for suguru?" he let out a low whistle, shaking his head. your boyfriend’s smirk widened, turning into an annoyingly charming grin. "or maybe you're just another pawn in his grand scheme, huh?" he leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, his expression challenging. "whatever. just do your job, babe. don’t bother fucking around with my business. tell suguru i said hi. and next time, bring some smelling salts for when he faints from surprise that we’re still together.”

unexpectedly, the sound of the seatbelt unbuckling rung through satoru’s ears. his breath hitched when he felt your hands pull on his shirt, tugging him towards you with a cold look in your eyes. “me working for someone i am not romantically linked with at all is nothing compared to you going out with someone you hooked up with months ago.” you leaned even closer.. “i’m not afraid to break up with you, right here right now..” satoru snorted at your words, barely suppressing a laugh as he took in your delicate display. hm. you were smaller than he was, that’s for sure. “your determination is almost impressive," satoru spoke, leaning forward slightly as his crystal gaze drifted downwards momentarily before locking with yours again. with a sardonic grin, satoru tilted his head at your words looking amused. "you need to separate us? sure thing, doll. just like you need to separate yourself from suguru’s puppet strings.”

you were tired of arguing. you knew one thing and one thing for sure, you were not gonna stay here with him. atleast not for long, until you have the last say in this. “then if you wanted to break up, you could’ve just told me straight up. don’t waste my damn time like this.”

"oh, believe me, i’ve considered it," satoru retorted, chuckling softly. "but then i’d lose all this fun, wouldn't i?” he gestured vaguely around his car, a smirk playing on his lips. "maybe i just like this sort of thing. it keeps things interesting. and besides, where would you be without me?” his gaze flickered to you, holding your stare for a moment. "i’m taking you home after this. i’ve got more important things to do than argue with my girlfriend who thinks she's got me figured out."

“i don’t want to figure you out.” you argued, the tone of your voice held such rage.. it was almost enough to break through him. “fuck you and your ego. you’ve done nothing but ruin every single relationship you’ve been in, yet you complain? you’re a fucking jerk.”

“whatever floats your boat then.” he muttered under his breath as he sank back onto the car seat, his body screaming at him to rest. but there was no peace to be found, not with his mind swirling with thoughts of the long heated argument you both just had.

… quite literally, heated.

now this.. you didn’t know how you even ended up like this.

“fuck, satoru…”

you were seated on his lap, breathing heavily with your shirt all ruffled up, your breasts in display for him like eye candy as satoru sucked on your delicate nipples. your skirt hiked up to your stomach as he held you gently. satoru groaned, his lips still wrapped around your nipple, fingers probing deeper into your warmth. he released your pert nipple with a pop, trailing kisses down your chest as he slowly slid a finger inside your heat, licking his lips at the damp feeling of your slickness coating his digit. “shit, you're so wet for me, baby," satoru whispered against your ear, his voice thick with amusement. your boyfriend then added another finger, stretching you out. with a slow, steady motion, satoru’s fingers pumped within you slowly inch by inch, allowing your body to adjust to his digits. satoru devoured your moans, he knew he wouldn't last long with you all pretty like this. he reached up and cupped your face, thumb brushing against your cheekbone in a gentle caress.

“satoru, you fucking jerk…” your breath hitched your breathing grew completely ragged and uneven, your skin flushed and your eyes fluttered shut. yet, satoru couldn't help but smirk as his fingers delved deeper inside you, drawing out your moans that were like perfect melodies to him. “you’re so tight, baby," he murmured, his voice low and seductive.. coated with lust. he wanted more of you. he could feel his cock twitch painfully against his briefs, desperate to free itself from its confines. “makes me want to bury myself inside you right here, right now." he paused, letting the words hang in the air between them, “right infront of your workplace. it’d be nice if suguru caught sight of this, wouldn’t it?”

your boyfriend’s cock throbbed the more he spoke, desperate to be inside you as soon as possible. satoru’s mouth was completely busy, his tongue lavishing attention on your sweet nipples as his fingers danced within your folds. he could feel your arousal building up through your aching body as you trembled with pleasure, and it only fuelled his own desire. he sucked harder on your nipple, slowly pushing another finger deeper inside your wetness, crooking it slightly to hit that sweet spot you loved so much. “you’re not really mad at me, aren’t you?" he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "you like feeling me inside you, making my cock feel good like this. after all… that’s why we’re dating, right?” … this asshole. you could feel his other large hand cupping your breasts, thumb brushing against the nipple he was licking just a few minutes ago. "i could do this all night, y’know?" he murmured, his voice husky with desire, “keep your pretty little stubborn ass right here, right in my lap, and never let you go."

“you should let me go.”

“oh but i won’t.“ his eyes locked onto yours, with a slow, calculated motion, his fingers were now replaced by the head of his cock. true inch by agonizing inch, he pushed inside you, feeling your tightness enveloping him, and he knew he was lost. “you know why? this pussy is too good for me to give up to someone else.”

“satoru!” you gasped out loud as you felt his member slid inside your entrance, the uncomfortable space of the car taking a toll on you as your ass nearly pressed against the steering wheel.

"wow, look at you," satoru soothed, his voice low and cocky as he held you close against his body. “taking it so well like always," he whispered as his lips brushed against your ear. his hips rocked gently as he pumped his cock deeper into your warmth, the car creaked and groaned around the both of you. satoru savoured the feel of your body wrapped around his, swallowing your moans and gasps of pleasure. “shit.” his fingers dug gently into your hips, holding you firmly in place. the sounds of your passion mingled with the rustling of your clothes and his.. the soft moans that escaped your lips were enough to hypnotize him, he’d always been obsessed with them. satoru’s hands roamed against your body, tracing your breasts, the dip of your waist, the swell of your hips. his lips pressed against yours deeply, his tongue dancing with yours as he picked up the pace of his thrusts, cock thrusting deeper into you with each pass. you hated how your body responded to him, your own hips meeting his, and especially how your pussy was squeezing him tight as you came messily all over his cock, your sweet moans muffled against his lips.

satoru’s own orgasm washed over him, his body tensing as he emptied himself into you, the feeling of you enveloping him like a velvet glove drove him to the edge, making him want to ruin you once more a second time.. but he can wait. the taller male’s breath came in ragged gasps.. holding you close against him, heart pounding in his chest. “such a sweet girl like you shouldn’t be with me, babe. i almost feel bad for you,”

…

“you know i’m trouble, don’t you?”

#ᖭི༏ᖫྀ maryse’s diary ૮꒰˶˃̵ ^ ˂̵˵꒱ა #gojo <33 #finally wrote abt my glorious king everyone clap it up #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk gojo #jjk x you #gojou satoru x reader

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luciferism · 1 year ago

Text

[ "Symphony of Love & Desire" ]

Malleus x GN!Reader

Summary: It was Malleus' birthday and a party was being held at the Diasomnia dormitory. The formalities and main event of the party was done. You, Malleus' classmate and close friend, was pushed by your peers to sing a song requested by the band for further tonight's entertainment. You agreed to sing the song after a brief musing.

Tags: 18+, one shot smut, eventual smut, birthday fic (sort of), lots of kissing because I love it, porn with feelings, power play, dom/sub, slight degradation, hickeys, rough sex, pwp, creampie, multiple orgasm, brief oral sex (receiving)

A/N: I certainly have a type and Malleus is one of the addition. Yes, I'm now diving with my non-existent cock first at the LEGAL twst boys—especially Malleus. Also yes, I'm posting about another character's birthday instead of my side chick: Idia Shroud.

Word Count: 10.3K

[ Masterlist ] | [ Archive of Our Own ]

Malleus Draconia, the birthday celebrant, was seated at a table in the center of the dorm’s lounge. He looked even more stunning and regal in his white dress suit—a common outfit worn by birthday celebrants at the Night Raven College—that exquisitely hugged his tall figure and mesomorphic physique. He enjoyed the sights, sounds, and smells of the festivities.

The party was nearly over, most of the important affairs having been done, most of the guests gone already and those left were enjoying the last dregs of conversation and food. The main banquet hall had been cleaned up after the main course had been served. It was a splendid feast, with roasted meats, baked sides, and an array of soups and salads. After that, there was a delightful dessert course, featuring a variety of chocolate, baked, and creamy delicacies.

You stepped through the ornate double doors of the large lounge where the party was currently being held. The band at the front of the room had begun to play a slow, melodic song. The lights dimmed for a moment, before coming up bright again as a spotlight shined on you. Everyone's eyes were on you now, and the room waited with breathless anticipation.

You took to the stage before the crowd. You were dressed accordingly and you looked composed as you clutched the microphone stand. With a deep breath, you allowed your eyes to adjust to the sudden change in lighting before moving forward. You had been pushed into a role of prominence that you were far from comfortable with, but you let yourself loose for the night.

Malleus had remained the majority of the evening in his seat, content with observing the room and taking note of any little tidbit that may interest him. The band had continued their soft, slow melody, setting the perfect atmosphere for your announcement.

As the first cheers of support came from around the room, Malleus also began to applaud in support. He was just as entertained by this yearly ritual as any other, even if you did not always seem to be in the best spirits.

"Sing it loud!" He was heard to say, and the room followed his example.

Inwardly cursing yourself for falling victim to peer pressure, you took your place on the stage that had been set up. Your dread was not evident in your confident stance and easy demeanor. Your voice cut through the chatter when you lifted the microphone and called for silence.

"My gentlefolk. You know who I am, and what I am here to do, of course. As tradition dictates, this evening is to be entertaining and memorable, as I have the honor of providing this night's entertainment."

You scan the coagulation of students and some teachers then spot your gaze upon your peers that pushed you on the stage at the side—cheering you on. You shake your head as a faint smile appears on your lips.

You took a deep breath when the band started to play the intro of the song that they have requested for you to sing. Some students of the crowd clapped when they recognized the instrumental intro of the song. Surely, you wonder about their song choice. Nevertheless, you know the song by heart and it seemed there was no room for negotiation for this one.

As you kept singing, you found yourself enjoying the act; and Malleus kept watching, paying extra close attention to you now. Every lyric sung and every note hit with precision and beauty. The first lines of verses were sung with the full support of the room, which sent Malleus' spirits soaring.

Even with Malleus still in his seat, he leaned in closer, his eyes glued on you as you sang. A light sweat broke out on his forehead despite how well climate controlled the room was, and he took a few quick breaths to compose himself, though this did little to help his attraction towards you.

You looked at the crowd again with a smile on your face, your eyes moving over each and every person there. Your voice was sweet and smooth, your delivery was almost perfect and… sensuous as Malleus would interpret it. For all your unassuming manner, your presence was strong and striking as you stood and moved in front of that audience.

Malleus' eyes had remained on you from the very start, and he felt as if he had been hypnotized in place by your voice. He felt like a teen boy again, his face still a slight tint of rosy, his attention focused on you. He took deep breaths, but his heart began to beat a bit faster. His eyes followed every movement of your lips, every expression that crossed your face.

As you began to sing the climax of the song, Malleus could not help but become completely enamored with the way your body and movement expressed the emotions of the song. Each motion, each word said it all; that this was no longer a performance, but something more personal.

Malleus was breathing quite heavily, and a fine sheen of glisten covered his face now, feeling his heart beat faster and harder than he had felt in years. He stared at you, eyes glued to every breath, every blink, every motion. In a moment of weakness, he even licked his lips before he realized what he was doing. Every word that came from your lips felt like a dagger to his heart, though they were quite beautiful.

You took a deep breath as the song reached its final chorus, your wandering eyes watched the crowd and your eyes met with Malleus'; and you both shared a knowing expression. Your eyes remained locked with each other, and you could feel Malleus' eyes on you as well. Not an ounce of your feelings were left to interpretation.

Malleus' breath was caught in his throat and he watched you with an almost trance-like state. As you finished the song, your eyes still remained locked, and the room seemed to disappear as Malleus remained focused entirely on you. The final chorus brought him closer and closer to the ledge of madness, as a wave of heat and excitement covered him. He licked his lips again, it is as if this entire song was written by you and with him as the subject.

Malleus felt his fingers curling as he resisted the urge to grab you by the collar or brush his fingers through your hair. The song had him in a sort of ecstasy, having played on his emotions in a way he never expected possible. The emotions played in a symphony of his senses, and it was all he could do to remain seated.

You remained staring at Malleus with the same warm, slightly mischievous smile on your face that you wore since the beginning of your singing. As you had been in the center of the crowd, you now felt Malleus' eyes on you as you shared a moment of silence.

"Thank you gentlemen, I hope you were entertained by my performance for our dear Malleus' birthday."

You held Malleus' gaze for a few seconds longer than was comfortable, and then you turned away and greeted a cheering audience with a bow, your smile never breaking. You walked off the stage to a raucous applause, your face still slightly flushed with effort and excitement.

Malleus could feel his heartbeat out of his chest, his emotions a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation. He could not even hide his blush, nor turn his eyes away from your figure as you walked off stage with grace.

He remained seated for just a moment, taking deep breaths and hoping that you could not see just how excited he was at the song performance. Malleus could have sworn that you had planned for this show, and if you did, it was the most clever, well executed act of seduction Malleus had ever seen.

He took a moment to compose himself, but the images of you and the chorus kept playing in his mind. He was surprised to see how many members of the audience had their phones out and were recording the moment. Malleus took a deep breath once again and recollected himself as best he could, wanting to catch up with you before you left.

Malleus waited a few minutes, knowing that you had been performing on stage and probably needed to catch your breath and collect yourself. When he started making his way through the crowd, he spotted you off to the side in an empty hallway.

He made his way towards you, his heart beating so loudly he thought that it would give away his approach. When he finally reached the corner, he rounded the wall and saw you standing by yourself with your arms behind your back, eyes glued on the dark gothic paintings plastered on the walls.

Malleus took a deep breath and walked over, clearing his throat slightly as he approached. He hesitated for a moment, trying to decide whether to tell you how he truly felt. He took a deep breath and spoke.

"I have never... I have never heard someone sing like you do," his words were quiet, his tone soft and reserved. He could feel himself beginning to blush again.

"That... that song, you really sang it. You performed it perfectly, and I can't thank you enough. I have never been so... so mesmerized, so completely captivated by a song like that. Your voice…”

You turned at the sound of Malleus' voice and smiled at him, taking a moment to look the man up and down. The look that passed between the two of you was a telling one, and it was quite obvious that you both knew what was going on.

"Well, thank you for your words of appreciation, Malleus," you began to walk over to Malleus, hands still behind your back.

"I only did what I think would entertain me and the audience as well."

Your expression was that of interest, a sly and playful smile spreading out across your face as you began to take in the well-crafted suit and the handsome face of your friend. You also caught the light blush that was creeping towards Malleus' cheeks, and the way his breathing hitched ever so slightly. The man's expression was one of subtle excitement and eager anticipation.

Malleus met your gaze as he approached, his face flushing brighter with each moment. You might have been the most attractive person Malleus had ever met, as he would now admit despite the two of you being quite closer than he is to most people; and it was quite obvious that he was just as captivated by your figure as he had been by your impromptu performance.

As you drew closer, Malleus took a deep breath and stood up straight, trying to maintain some composure despite the overwhelming emotions washing over him. He placed his hands together and looked away from you for a moment before looking back again.

"I... I wanted to say.”

Malleus let out a nervous chuckle—which is a far cry from his normal disposition—feeling your presence like a warm glow around him as your eyes remained locked. You had a way of making him feel nervous and excited in all the right ways.

"I... It was... that song hit a chord with me that... I don't think I've felt that way in ages. And the way you sang it... I have had that song on a loop in my head for days, but the way you sang..."

He took a breath and tried to calm himself, "You're... magnificent.”

You smiled, eyes remaining locked with Malleus'. You took a small step closer, leaning in and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, a playful glint in your eyes.

"Magnificent am I? My performance must have really hit a chord then, to make you say something so... intimate about it. I am pleased I was able to please you so, Malleus."

You leaned in just a bit closer as you looked up at Malleus' unequivocally attractive features, a slight smile graced your lips.

"And I suppose I should also thank you for being such a fantastic classmate and a friend." You gave Malleus a light wink, the two of you smiling back and forth before Malleus looked away, his face still a bit flushed.

Your eyes twinkled, your smile growing and your gaze still lingering for a moment before you tilted your head upwards and pressed your lips against Malleus' own in a slow and gentle kiss.

Malleus was absolutely caught off guard by the sudden kiss, caught completely in the whirlwind of your lips. It was the most romantic thing anyone had done for him. Malleus felt lightheaded, feeling his body tremble as his body grew more flushed.

The moment was surreal, and so many emotions crashed and flooded through you at once. You could feel your feet leave the floor as your lips pressed against his own, his arms wrapped around you as you both relished in the moment. Malleus felt as if time stood still, and for a moment everything else in the world just faded away. His mind was filled with a mix of elation and confusion as his heart raced at the sheer excitement of the moment.

It was so tender and gentle, but every inch of it said "I have wanted this for a while".

Malleus had to bite his bottom lip to prevent a moan from escaping him. His heart pounded furiously in his chest, and he felt completely and wholly weak. He wanted to kiss you for a long time, and he never knew how your first kiss together would feel so wonderful.

You held Malleus gently as the kiss lingered for just a moment, though to you it felt like hours. You felt yourself begin to puff, not from the act of kissing but from the pure emotion coursing through you. Malleus was more than a friend to you, more than an intimidating figure to fear, he was someone who you could not help but admire and adore.

You could feel Malleus' body tense, yet there was a warmth and ease that could bring him comfort and make him melt in your grasp. You could feel Malleus' heart pounding against his chest, and he wrapped his other arm around your waist as the kiss lingered for another moment.

Sooner, you felt Malleus' hands grip your neck and shoulder, your chest heaving with your breathing and your heart racing. You could feel the way that Malleus felt you, wanted you... it was as if you were in a dream.

You pulled away from the kiss, your hand cradling Malleus' jaw, your thumb slowly stroking over his lips. You stayed close to Malleus, still looking up at him, your eyes peering deeply into the fae's soul.

"Did you enjoy your birthday present, Malleus?”

Malleus stood there, staring into your eyes as his mind and heart were still racing. For a moment, the only sound that Malleus could hear was his heart beating, pounding so hard it felt like his chest might explode.

"I... I don't think I could have ever imagined such a... perfect gift. I... I just..."

Malleus looked down at the ground as he tried to collect himself. Then, he finally got the nerve to look down directly at you. He still felt utterly weak in your presence, and you had only seemed to grow more stunning since the kiss. It was as if you were a perfect figure, every movement a dance, every look an enticement.

"Yes, I enjoyed it more than I have ever thought possible." Malleus gave you a brief, but passionate kiss. His heart was racing and his breath was short as he stepped back. He wanted to taste your lips again and he knew that he was in too deep now.

You let the kiss linger for a moment, gently leaning your head toward Malleus. When Malleus pulled away, you smiled and nodded, your expression one of understanding and appreciation. You could see the passion in Malleus' eyes, and you knew just how smitten the man was.

Just then, your eyes sparkled with a deep sense of playfulness and mischief, your hand that was still resting on Malleus' jaw went to Malleus' collar. With a light chuckle, you leaned your head upwards once more and pressed your lips to Malleus'; and your other hand pulled the back of Malleus' head, as your lips chafing onto his.

After what felt like hours of lips pressing in the most tender graze, you begrudgingly pulled away for breath.

"I love you, Malleus. I've been wanting to tell you that for a while now," you said with sincerity as your emotions poured out in the open for Malleus.

It was a long time coming and you were given the perfect opportunity to confess the love you felt for the few years you had known together.

Malleus was speechless, his heart racing to a point where he thought it might explode. The kiss was tender, sweet, and his desire to kiss you one more time was intoxicating. Malleus felt his heart ache from the separation, his very soul wanting to join with you, and he knew that if he did not make a move quickly he would regret it.

Malleus wrapped both hands around the back of your head and pulled you back to himself. He leaned in with no hesitation and pressed his lips to yours once more.

The kiss became more deep, slow, and completely immersive. Malleus' emotions had taken full control over him as he kissed you with a passion and love he had never felt before. Malleus pressed against you, his arms sliding under your shirt and his hands rubbing your back and shoulders; and you could hear the faint rustling of your clothes. He took the initiative of this kiss, wanting to take everything he could from you and give him everything back in turn. He wanted to give you every ounce of his body, to show you just how much he cared.

When you felt Malleus take control of the kiss, your eyes flickered open in surprise. You had never experienced anyone quite so assertive and bold, and it made you feel almost like a younger teen that had their first crush touch their hand for the first time all over again—your legs growing weak and your body quaking. You had to hold on tight to Malleus to keep yourself grounded, your mind swimming so much that you couldn't put words to your feelings.

Malleus held onto you as tight as he possibly could, his hot breath wafting on your face as his heart pounded like thunder. He was completely and unequivocally in love, and there was nothing that he wanted more than to feel your lips upon his forever. The entire world could fall to disarray, and Malleus would still keep his hold strong over the person he had fallen for.

When it finally ended, you were breathless, the passion of the kiss and the heat that it brought with it being almost more than you could bear. As your eyes slowly opened you felt Malleus' hands rub your back, his arms sliding underneath your shirt as he pressed his hand against your chest, his body pressed against yours as tight as he could.

You knew Malleus' intentions and your heart felt like it would jump out of your chest and bid you goodbye.

Your throat imperceptibly bobbed and spoke in a hushed tone, "Take me where nobody can see and disturb us."

Malleus pulled you close to him as he felt your legs giving way underneath him. Every inch of your body pressed against Malleus', and the feeling of your warm body pressed against his own felt better than any drug.

He didn't hesitate the moment you asked to be taken somewhere private, his arms wrapped around you as he lifted you off the floor. His lips pressed against your ear and he whispered seductively.

"Hold on tight."

Malleus was already in the process of pulling you to a secluded corner of an empty hallway, far away from the event and away from the crowded lounge. The corners were dark and empty as he carried you close around the corner, his hands occupied with your body. Malleus' expression was of excitement and passion, and his voice was deep and heavy as he spoke.

"You have no idea how much I have wanted you.” Malleus' heart was racing, his body practically buzzing with excitement. The moment had finally come, and he was going to cherish it to its fullest extent.

Your hands were wrapped around his neck, and Malleus felt your head pressed into the crook of his neck as he held you to his chest. You made your way to his room, where nobody was nearby, the door was locked, and the mood was intimate and exciting.

Malleus leaned against the wall, pressing you against it. Malleus' free arm and hand slid down your back and down your hip, his fingers brushing against the fabric and tracing the figure beneath. His other hand stayed wrapped around the back of your head, holding you against the wall as he slowly kissed you more and more. The kiss was aggressive and Malleus was finally taking what he wanted. Malleus' mouth was a warm, deep, and tender caress as it played over your mouth and chin and cheek.

Malleus finally broke your lips apart. Your eyes locked upon one another as your hearts raced and your breath was heavy, and then Malleus' fingers wandered over your shirt and he began to slowly unbutton it. He moved slowly, his hands touching your body in all the right places as he whispered seductively.

"Take a deep breath my dear, for things are about to become... quite intense.”

You had the greatest difficulty in taking a deep breath when Malleus' fingers started to unbutton your shirt. You watched the man's lithe fingers work their way over the fabric of your shirt, and your body felt like it had been set ablaze.

"Mm... Malleus..." your voice trembled just a little as you spoke.

You had never felt someone take such control over the situation, it was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. Your voice was breathy, and you could feel your mind trapped in a haze as the excitement only grew and grew.

Your breath went in and out in short bursts of air and your very soul practically boiling under Malleus' attention. The man before you was the epitome of power and status, your ideal of success, and you were utterly intoxicated under his touch.

"Whatever you want, Malleus, take it. I'll be yours."

This had been your dream for the longest time, and now it was going to be made a reality.

Malleus smiled as he continued to slowly unbutton your shirt. His hands felt the warm skin beneath, feeling the muscles contract and loosen as his breath caressed your neck. As the buttons of your shirt were fully undone, Malleus slid the shirt off of your body and leaned down to lightly brush his lips against your collarbone.

Malleus slipped his arms around your waist, his warm breath hitting your skin as he whispered seductively, "There is something I would very much like to do to you, my dear.”

Malleus' lips pressed back against your collarbone, his warm breath gently caressing your skin. His hands ran over your back and sides, his fingers rubbing and caressing the figure of your body while his lips began to work their way down your chest. His warm breath continued to hit your skin with each exhalation, and his hands kept moving over your body.

Malleus' lips kept on softly brushing against your skin, his hands gripping your hip as he leaned down to your ear. Your breath was ragged, and Malleus' voice had the distinct sound of dominance about it. His voice was deep and rich, and the words were slow and deliberate.

"I would very much like... to kiss... all of the parts of your body... inch by inch." Malleus slowly slid your pants down, his lips still caressing your neck as he spoke in a whisper.

Malleus paused, his lips still against your neck. The man was flushed with adrenaline, his muscles tense as his body practically vibrated with the heat that grew within.

"May I?" Malleus' breathing was short, and his body quivered with the anticipation of what he wanted to do next. His grip on you tightened as his lips slipped away and he looked directly into your eyes. Malleus looked like a hunter, and he was about to take his prize.

You couldn't contain yourself and the response was already bubbling to the surface. You were practically a bundle of raw nerves and anticipation, and the voice you heard was like that of honey on your ears.

"Please... yes... do it. Please, I want every inch of your lips on my body," you sounded desperate, your breathing ragged and your voice shaking with the intensity of the moment. It wasn't just a thought or a desire for you, it was a need, a hunger that could only be sated in this moment by Malleus.

Malleus gently kissed your neck, his lips and the breath from his words caressing your skin and you felt like your skin was burning in every kiss. Your pants were down to your ankles in another moment, and your eyes were focused on Malleus, locked onto the fae's eyes.

The atmosphere was filled with a charged tension, and Malleus could feel your eyes exploring him as well. His fingers brushed across your body as he leaned over you, his lips pressed once again on your neck. His kisses were driving you insane. You wanted the man to take you, to explore every inch of you, and to make you his entirely.

"Please, don't just say it, Malleus, do it," the words were soft and breathless, a plea from you to your friend, now lover.

This was real, you could feel it with the touch and the words of the man looming before you. Your skin continued to burn, and your legs were weak from the excitement and the passion. Your eyes flickered open and the words in your mind left your lips.

"Take what you wish, my love. I am yours." Your expression changed to one of quiet desperation, as if the very words came from your soul itself.

"Love." Malleus spoke the word as if it were honey in his mouth. Malleus leaned over you, his eyes and lips locked on yours, and he was enjoying watching your reactions. He breathed it, whispered it, and let the word linger as his lips moved down your neck, his teeth slightly biting down, and his tongue softly tasting your skin. His hands moving to your hips and holding you.

There was no more time for games, and now it was time for passion.

Slowly, Malleus took off his suit jacket and threw it onto a nearby chair. The two of you were inside his dorm room, and there was something romantic about getting close to the person he wanted so badly and finally having you all alone. Malleus' own breath was coming in short and heavy puffs as his eyes feasted on your mess of a quivering naked body.

Your eyes widened and blushed as Malleus took off his jacket and threw it onto the chair. Your breath came in short puffs, and your heart raced in your chest. Your every nerve and muscle aches for Malleus to do to you what you both had been waiting for. You saw the fae prince in a different light, and it was more intense and intoxicating than you could ever have imagined.

You felt like you were dreaming, your eyes staring up at Malleus as he went topless. His body was hot, his flesh was warm, and his skin was tingling with desire. Malleus' touch was both tender and rough, as if he was being gentle whilst preparing to pounce on you, and you let out a soft moan as the man’s hands touched you.

Every inch of your flesh tingled as Malleus touched you and his breath drifted across your skin like a fine mist. You wanted nothing more than to lose yourself in the moment, to forget that you were inside Malleus’ dorm room and give your heart over the man that was making your soul sing.

Malleus moved slowly, his eyes locked on yours as his lips found their target. He kissed you slowly, intimately, in a way that showed that your moment together was not one based on lust or obsession but on a desire for something much deeper and more meaningful.

Malleus pulled you close, and his arms came around you. Malleus' tongue darted around your jaw to your ear, and your own breath was coming in short and heavy gasps as you felt the fire between them grow once more.

Malleus' fingers slowly traced the outline of your body as he kissed you more. His lips danced across your abdomen and further down your hips. Your pants were down to your ankles, and Malleus was feeling your leg shake.

He kissed your thigh as he spoke. "I cannot wait any longer.”

You found yourself unable to speak, your body reacting to the man before you and your desires overwhelming your words. You wanted to scream out in pleasure and passion. Your body was burning hot from Malleus' touch, and your own hands were slowly stroking the man's back.

"Then... take me," you whispered, your words soft and breathy. "I'm yours... in every way."

The word seemed to come from your soul itself, and you let your arms fall limp. You felt like you couldn't hold yourself up any longer. The touch in Malleus' hands and tongue both drove you crazy as you felt your control over yourself fading fast.

Malleus slowly kissed his way up once again to your stomach, and your eyes were shut tight as you felt the heat increase; and your own hands were trembling as you felt everything about your senses heightened.

There was no time for games, and no time for play. The two of you wanted each other and it was time to finally be together. Malleus slowly lifted your legs, and your fingers were biting into the mortars of the wall behind you.

"You are mine and I am yours." Malleus' voice was a husky whisper, and his voice was filled with a passion and excitement he had never been able to express or feel before.

Malleus brushed one hand over your crotch as you stood weakly on your feet, making your back pressed and rubbed against the concrete wall. Your body was twitching. It sounded and looked like your breath was escaping in short and shallow puffs like an untended fire, your eyes fluttering and closing just to open wide and stare into Malleus' own.

You felt it building up inside, this deep craving and desire that you felt only grew the longer it remained unfulfilled. Your skin felt like it was ablaze, you could feel it burning under Malleus' tongue and lips.

"More... please," your voice was soft, and his breathing was loud.

"Malleus..." you whispered once again, your voice laced with lust and a desire for more. You were almost speechless, and your head was rolling back against the wall and you mustered all of your strength to stay standing on your feet.

Malleus stood slowly, his hand sliding over your ass and down your leg as he smiled. He took the moment to enjoy the situation and the person he had his attention on. Malleus' hand slowly rubbed and teased along the inside of your thighs, and both of you were heavily breathing.

Malleus watched you and your reactions carefully, noting every small change, every twitch and movement, every look and sound you made. It was a heady feeling, knowing he was having this much effect on you, but it was also exciting. The way he felt for you was exciting, and making a person as wonderful and put together as you responded to him so readily was a source of pride.

His own hands gripped your hips tightly, as if he was going to lift you up and take you right there while you both are pressed against the wall. There was something about you that drew him like a moth to a flame, something about you that made him feel like the chase was worth it. Malleus took his time and savored every touch, every moment, every word.

Malleus brought his lips back up to your face and your eyes met once more. Malleus could feel the heat of the passion coursing through your flesh, and he could practically feel the need and want, the craving for more. He wanted to take you right here, right now, for the moment was perfect and he felt it. He wanted you, and he wanted you so desperately.

"Do you want more?" Malleus' voice was gentle and filled with love.

"Yes, please... don't stop..." Your voice was little more than a grunt, but it had the effect you desired.

Your fingers dug into the wall behind, as if trying to stay standing and Malleus' hands clutching your waist to support you. You were practically shivering and your legs were parted by Malleus' thigh. You could barely think straight, let alone speak coherently.

"You want me." Malleus' voice was a husky whisper as he spoke the words. Malleus could feel your need for him, and he felt the hunger you had for him inside his very skin. The kiss was growing deeper, and suddenly, you could feel the man's hand sliding down your spine slowly, his fingers tracing over your skin, exploring and seeking for even more pleasure.

Malleus watched you fall apart in front of him and he had never felt more excited. You were his prey, and you were now a captive to Malleus. Malleus was so excited, he could hardly keep himself from biting your flesh, but he knew better. Your flesh was delicate and he loved you, and it would take great force of will not to tear you to pieces while the hunger for you built inside him.

"I want you." Malleus' voice was filled with desire to consume you whole.

And so, he did. He lifted you up and gently placed you on his bed as if you were a precious cargo; then he swiftly removed the dangling undergarments from your ankles.

He pushed you back so that you were lying on the mattress, and he let his lips explore your body once again. He kissed your chest over and over, his lips trailing down along the line of your abdomen then back up your chest—licking and nibbling the puckered nipples. He kissed your neck with long slow kisses, and then his lips moved up to your right ear and slowly moved down to your left jaw, kissing every inch of skin along the way.

"Malleus... please... " you whispered softly, your eyes fluttering in a daze.

Malleus took one look at your body and he felt his passion and his hunger build and he was finally hungry enough to take you and not even be subtle about it.

Malleus' own pants were quickly undone and set to the side of the bed. There was the sound of passion in the room, the sound of breathing and the rustling of clothes being shed. Your body was a marvel to Malleus and he took his time in admiring it.

"What a sight to behold." Malleus' voice was a whisper as he looked over your body, and then Malleus' lips and tongue made their way back to your ear. "Such a prize, to have in my hands.”

You were a mass of quivering hips, aching muscles, twitching fingers, and shallow breaths. You were trembling, shaking, and so much more as you let Malleus have his way with you.

You were a whirlwind of excitement and you were so far in over your head, you couldn't believe you hadn't both drowned. Your breath was shallow, your eyes flutter and unfocused as you let every sensation wash over you. Malleus' body and voice and words were a spell that you had just fallen under and you were utterly powerless to break it.

"Malleus... I need you..." you whispered, letting out a small gasp.

"Please..." You begged once more and spread your thighs a bit wider, your feet planted on the soft sheets of Malleus’ bed.

"Shhhhhh..." Malleus' voice was a husky whisper as he finally gave in to his own hunger.

He kissed your belly, licking and swirling his tongue along your flesh as he spread your legs even more, his tongue moving deeper down your body and his touch finally finding the place he was desperate to find.

You could feel your body shaking and you couldn't stop it. Your breath hitched and your body was tingling from head to toe as Malleus laps the flesh between your legs. And yet, Malleus felt no pity or concern for you. All he felt was excitement and hunger.

"Oh, Malleus..." your voice broke as Malleus gave in to his own passion.

Your hands gripped the sheets tightly as if to keep from being pulled deeper into the experience. Malleus' tongue and lips worked over your genitalia with abandon, pushing you further and further over the edge until you could do nothing but let go and let Malleus have what he wanted.

As the pleasure perpetually cascaded along your flesh, your hands mustered the dregs of your strength and grabbed Malleus' hair and pulled him back to your face. You wanted nothing more than to feel Malleus inside you like you had never wanted anything your entire life.

"I need you, I want you inside me." You grunted from the pain and pleasure as your flesh grew more aroused and screamed for more intense stimulation.

Malleus made a husky, excited sound as your hands grabbed his hair and pulled him back up. His lips were wet and sloppy from the kisses and licks he just gave you and he was quite visibly shivering now. The moment was pure heaven, and he was desperate to claim what was rightfully his and to make this moment last.

He climbed on top of you whilst spreading your legs. He held your shoulders and your arms, pushing his body down, and making sure that the two of you were close together. You had nowhere to go, no way to escape.

"You want me to take you?" Malleus almost growled the words, his voice a deep husk, and his fangs glistened against the dim lights of his room.

Malleus leaned in closer to your face as he lifted your right leg off the mattress. There was an unspoken question in his eyes, and you could see the hunger in his gaze for him.

"Tell me... " Malleus whispered the words, his voice full of desire and hunger.

You were trembling all over but you didn't feel cold at all. You felt hot like your skin was set ablaze by Malleus’ touch.

"I'm more than ready." Your voice was a breathless sigh as you looked up at Malleus.

Your genitalia was leaking with your slick from all the stimulation. You were a mess. Your hair was a mess and you were a mess of feelings too. You were ready to give yourself to Malleus, and there was no fear in that choice. It was the right thing, the only thing, that you needed right now.

"Yes," you whispered with your voice quivering in his excitement. "Oh my… god..." You let out a heavy sigh before you spoke again, "Please... please!“

Malleus was grinning as you whispered the words, as if it was the hottest, most seductive thing he had ever heard. He was a proud man, and to hear his prize say these things about him made his day.

Malleus let your legs move closer together, and his right thigh moved in between your own, slowly spreading you open wider before him. He saw the hunger in your eyes, and he saw the need in your face. He saw you open to him as you lay on his bed and begged for what you wanted.

"Good…" Malleus' voice was filled with delight. He leaned down atop your body and grabbed you by the hips, sliding his body closer to yours. His mouth slid to your ear, and his tongue was teasing one of your sensitive ears as his hand caressed your thighs.

"Ready, dear…” His eyes met yours, and the two of you looked at each other, both desperate for more after this long moment of longing. Malleus licked his lips and his smile was mischievous and cruel.

You gasped and shuddered as Malleus teased your ear, your eyes fluttering, your face flushed pink as you tried to stay in control, but you knew that there was no way he would last much longer.

"Yes! Yes, oh my god yes! Please take me. I want you, I NEED you, and I'm ready!" you were desperate, you couldn't wait another minute.

Your body was shaking with nervous excitement, and there was no fear in you, just pure, unadulterated need. You heard your own breath coming in shallow heaves, and you felt your own body's hunger as you watched Malleus move towards your entrance. You can feel Malleus' tip hitting and rubbing your pulsing core ever so slightly.

“I want you as well…” Malleus' voice was a husky whisper, his teeth gritted and his tongue working the edges of his mouth as he spoke to you. His eyes were heavy as he puffed, his warm breath hitting your skin as his desire for you grew with each word that left his lips.

You were right where he wanted you, completely vulnerable, totally exposed, completely open to him. Malleus' hands and feet slid around you, as his tongue worked over your neck, chest and arms. He was completely and utterly prepared to take everything you had to offer...

Malleus leaned closer to you once more until you were chest to chest, as his hand left your thighs and moved up your body to grip your waist. His mouth stayed glued to your ear, and he whispered softly in your ear as his body slowly slipped overtop of yours. He made sure to keep his eyes on you, his gaze firm and dominant, with a hint of desire in its glint.

"I know," he growled softly as he felt you shake with excitement. "Hold onto me... “

Your answer was a groan, a loud, lustful moan as Malleus moved over your body. Your eyes closed tightly as your body quivered, trying to contain yourself. You could feel Malleus' body against yours, and your own stomach churning with gleeful anticipation.

"Oh... oh Sevens, I..." your voice trailed off.

A loud gasp escaped your lips as Malleus’ tip started to push inside. Your eyes shut closed, all your attention was poured into the sensation of Malleus' shaft tearing its way inside you and stretching your flesh.

Malleus' mouth was right in front of your ear as he whispered to you. "You're mine, you… are completely mine."

And with a slow motion, with the speed of moving glaciers, Malleus started to thrust deliberately inside your walls.

He moved with determination and a cold hunger, for he knew how close you were to being his. He knew how much you wanted him and he knew it was only a matter of time. It was time to end this, to put the finishing touches on the perfect night.

"Hold onto me..." Malleus' command rang out once more, and his voice was a growl as he made himself clear.

He was in charge and you would know it. Malleus did not want to hurt you and he did not mean to hurt you. But, it was part of the game, and you would be fine by the end. Malleus let his movements be measured and slow for the first few seconds as he eased himself in, and then he slowly increased his pace. He wanted you to feel it, to feel every inch and every moment.

You were breathless, completely frozen in shock as Malleus claimed you in the most intimate way possible. Malleus was right on top of you, his manhood pumping fast and deep inside you, and you were helpless.

You tried to keep yourself together, but you were completely under Malleus' power and it seemed Malleus was in no rush at all to finish. Malleus moved with a confidence that matched the hunger in his eyes and the cold, dominant gaze he was giving you.

You let your hands move to Malleus' shoulders as you gasped out in the final act of surrender.

"I won't run away so claim me as your own," your words were punctuated with a low moan.

Your body shook involuntarily and your legs slowly spread even further apart to make sure that Malleus was able to move his hips faster and deeper. You let your mind go and you let his body take over. You were Malleus’, completely.

That moment of surrender was exactly what Malleus needed. He moved slower now, but his eyes never drifted off of you. He pushed his shaft fully inside you, and he stayed there for a beat, just to let you feel the force of his presence.

"I claim you," Malleus' words were a whisper, but there was no doubt as to their meaning or to his intention. After the man spoke, his hands began to slide back up your body, and his mouth was going to explore every inch of your neck.

Malleus moved slowly, but it was a steady rhythm. He was completely in control of the situation, and of you, and he was certainly going to take advantage of that situation. He wanted to enjoy every moment of this experience, and he wanted you to enjoy it as well.

You can see Malleus' face tightened as you shifted your body underneath him. You accepted the gift, and welcomed Malleus into you by bucking your hips against the fae’s. Malleus' body was moving with a slow and consistent pace, giving you enough to feel it, to build the intensity of the moment, each moment and every inch of it.

"Right there! Ah..." You whimpered breathlessly as Malleus' tip hit a sensitive spot inside your flesh despite the deliberate and tender thrusts of his hips.

Malleus' lips slowly worked their way down your neck, leaving small kisses in the wake of Malleus' mouth. He kept a slow pace, letting his motions carry your mind and body away with them. He slid your legs further apart, forcing you to move your thighs even further down the mattress, opening yourself up even more to Malleus. He was enjoying this and he was not going to be finished so quickly.

Malleus whispered in your ear once again, his voice a soft but cold voice that spoke of his pleasure…

"Enjoy it." Malleus whispered into your ear again, the words sent shivers down your spine. He knew exactly what he wanted, and he knew he wanted more than just this.

He was a man of control, a man who kept calm in everything he did... except tonight. Malleus' focus was entirely on you, his words and eyes sharp and cruel, but they were a mask for the hunger he had for you. He was moving deeper now, forcing the tip of his manhood even further in.

Your mouth was open as your breaths were shallow. Your mind was lost to Malleus' body. You were his toy, one of his possessions and you belong entirely to him. You swallowed a low, lustful sound that escaped your body as Malleus' shaft kept on tearing its way inside your tight and slippery flesh. Your body tremors with anticipation, your voice was a breathy moan that you could barely get out.

"Ah... I... Malleus... " you quavered as you stumbled with your words. Instead, you responded with a moan, letting your head fall back as you gave it completely over to Malleus. Your eyes were closed and you felt your mind drifting away.

Malleus' pace was picking up slowly now, moving back and forth, back and forth, and pushing himself deeper and faster. He felt the insides of your body clenching and pulsing around his shaft in every thrust of his hips.

He whispered into your ear, "You are mine."

The words were like a wave, moving over you, the feeling of Malleus' ownership over you. It was a cruel thing, that ownership, but it was also a powerful thing. Now Malleus would have his way.

Malleus' tongue was working on your neck; licking, moving, and whispering to you the things he knew you wanted to hear. His mouth was a whirlwind of motion. Each part of your body was being worked to perfection. He knew you would enjoy them all.

You could feel every deep movement, every moment of being stretched out. Your thoughts were cloudy and you were breathing heavily. Each thrust by Malleus was a new experience. Your words came out in broken sentences, your mind was in a vortex of pleasure.

"I am, I am yours..." With each word from your mouth, Malleus' pace grew faster, and he drove deeper, faster, harder.

Malleus' voice had grown harsh and was more demanding by the second. He felt you giving way completely and he knew it was only a matter of time. He was in the driver seat and he would keep the pedal to the metal.

"Oh, you! What a mess you are..." Malleus' voice was a purr, one that carried a hint of amusement with it. It was like he was seeing you through a fog of lust and desire, of unadulterated excitement.

"Are you ready?" His voice was quiet and it carried just enough menace, just enough warning that you were close to the edge. But you also knew that the question was not a request for permission, it was a question of Malleus' curiosity.

You had taken Malleus at his word, and you were giving into every sensation that was coursing through you. Your mind was losing itself, and each moment was getting even closer to losing control.

You could feel his manhood pumping in and out of you mercilessly. The way it throbbed and twitched, how warm it was, and the way it hit so deep inside that it gave you a burning sensation. His deft hands grope your flesh with a vice grip, leaving reddish traces of nail marks here and there; and how those hands leave handprints on the back of your thighs from his harsh spanks and grip. How the pleasure and pain mixed together to drive you closer to the edge. You felt the pressure accumulating by each passing second.

"Yes!" You felt like you were in a dream, like your body was completely removed from your mind. Your body responded instantly to the harsh voice of Malleus, it's every cell moving to please him. Your voice was a mix of pleasure and agony, as if you were struggling to hold on to yourself, to hang onto life.

"More... please.”

It was like he was punishing your body. Keeping you wanting, keeping you desperate. Malleus was going to hold you right there on the very border between submission and denial, of pain and pleasure that he inflicted on your body. All the while he was making it perfectly clear that these decisions were his alone.

Malleus' voice was a growl as he pushed himself deeper into you. He wanted you to feel every inch of him from every stroke. He wanted you to feel his possession, his dominance, his power. His words were a demand, not a request. He had been patient with you the entire time, and he had enjoyed the process. That patience was beginning to fade slightly now and every single word out of his mouth was filled with a sharp edge.

"More? You want more of me?" Malleus asked, and then his fingers curled firmly on your waist, digging their nails on your supple flesh.

Malleus smiled as he heard your mumbled words and desperate moans. He knew he had you at the edge of the cliff, and with the words he just heard, he knew it was time to push you over.

"Moan for me as much as how you pant like a dog in heat," Malleus' voice was low and demanding, and his tone had shifted to a more cruel edge. “Like how you are desperate for me to fill you with my seed.”

His hands were running up and down your body, and his face was just inches from yours. He was pushing and pulling, he was taking and he was giving... he was playing with you to his heart's content. He was going to get as much pleasure as he could out of you. He was going to push you over the edge into the abyss of sensation without remorse.

"Yes, please. I want more of you. Please!" Your plea was desperate, a desperate voice of a person pushed past their limits and into a realm of sensations beyond anything you had ever known before. Your body was shaking, your legs were wrapped around Malleus, your back was pinned to the bed and your head was thrown back in surrender.

"Oh god, please Malleus! Push deeper! Faster! Please, please!" you cried out loudly in a fit of passion and submission. It was as if Malleus' body was a lock, and Malleus' voice and words were the key.

"Yes... yes... give it to me... More!" And with that utterance from you, Malleus knew that the game was over. Malleus' voice was a purr as he pushed himself even deeper, and your voice was a rasped mess of pleasure, pain, and ecstasy.

Malleus knew that you just crossed the bridge into surrender. You had no words left and your body was doing all the screaming. Your eyes were closed and your breathing was ragged.

Just as your body was wracking with waves of pleasure, Malleus pulled himself out of you, just to plunge in with a force he had reserved for very special occasions. Malleus knew that this was where it ended, and he was ready to take that step too.

Malleus' pace was frantic now, as if he had held himself back all this time just to reach this moment of pure pleasure. He moved deeper, he moved faster, he moved harder. His grip on your body was iron and his voice was cold, harsh and demanding. No man was going to take what was his. Malleus was in control. The pace and heat were increasing as you both prepared yourselves to climb the pinnacle of pleasure. His body was the paint and your body was the canvas.

"Oh you... Oh..." Malleus' voice was heavy with lust and utter pleasure.

Your body was in perpetual tremor and your legs were wrapped around Malleus, unable to let go of the fae. You were quaking so hard and was almost unable to breathe. You weren't really in control of your body at all anymore as though your body was acting on its own.

You were in a heaven of pleasure. You screamed and your back arched so much that if Malleus let go, you might snap in half. It felt like a fire that was consuming every inch of you, every nerve in your body was set ablaze. It didn't feel like a fire of pain, no it felt like a fire of lust, a fire that was spreading from inside of you and consuming you entirely. You couldn't hold it in any longer, it was impossible.

"Yes... Oh, Malleus... Yes! " The scream was enough for Malleus to know it was finished.

And with a final powerful thrust of Malleus, you gave everything you had in a final act of lust. Your voice was a loud, dragged out guttural moan, and the words left your mouth slipped in a breathless whisper. You moaned Malleus' name over and over again. It was a pure, immaculate, physical release.

There it was, that single moment. Malleus could feel it too, you were giving yourself to Malleus and that was just the beginning. He had been patient but now he was pushing for more. Malleus had found a sweet spot and he refused to let his prize slip away. His own pleasure had been growing and he would not be denied any longer.

"My dear... I am still inside you." Malleus' voice was filled with heat, with the promise of more.

Your moan was broken and raw, every bit of your energy seemed to leave you with that final release only to be replaced almost immediately with shame. Your body was still shaking but your voice was broken. You could feel Malleus still inside of you, you knew that Malleus had no intention of letting you off the leash quite yet. Your eyes were closed, your face was flushed, and you were breathing as if you were being suffocated.

You managed to find your voice, albeit barely. It was not the begging words, it was not the strength of the voice you had been using so easily a moment ago. It was the voice of a person completely overwhelmed by a pleasure you never knew existed.

"I... Yes, I need more." Your eyes fluttered open and you turned your head just enough to look up at Malleus. Your hand reached out and grasped Malleus' buttocks trying desperately to keep him close as you let the fae find his own release.

Malleus was holding back no longer whilst he chased his release as you begged for more. His pace was growing more frantic than ever before. His voice was a murmur and his grip on you was a vice. His voice was becoming an endless cascade of his own pleasure, and his hands were moving in circles, kneading your body as all the while he was growing closer towards climax.

Every push of his hips sent your body into further spasms of pleasure, each moment had sent you to another intense climax. It was as if your souls were meeting somewhere in the middle, as if your bodies were two halves trying to become one.

His voice turned into a yell and he gave out one last mighty push to bring him over the edge. Malleus' voice was hoarse and it was ragged, it was a sound that seemed to echo throughout the room. He let out a final loud breathy moan and then he collapsed down on top of you as his semen filled you to the brim and flooded out of your clenching hole.

"Oh… my love." He groaned as he found his breath again. "You were perfect." He breathed out.

Malleus was laying on top of you. Malleus' breath was heavy and he was completely out of air. Your body was still wracking with waves of pleasure, as if it was still trying to adjust to the sensations that had been unleashed within. Your eyes were clenched shut and your body was shaking slightly as if you were in a dream and trying to wake yourself.

You were still struggling to find your words. There was no breath left in your body. Your voice had given out and your body was completely exhausted. The only sound that came out of you were a few gasps and a broken, hoarse moan.

Your whole body was shaking and you could barely move. You had given Malleus everything you had and you had nothing left anymore. There was nothing in your head either, your senses were all overwhelmed and you were not even sure you were still in the same reality. You were just a broken mess, utterly spent.

After what felt like an hour, although you're still breathlessly in a daze and exhausted, you managed to let out a hoarse chuckle and spoke.

"That was amazing, it was the best I've ever felt."

Malleus raised his head and looked down at you lying beneath him. He was looking at you still feeling his own sense of euphoria from the experience. He felt as if he was still high from the sensation, as if his entire body was awash from head to toe. His voice was still husky, still rough, and every breath he was taking was filled with the after effects of everything that had come before. He could not describe just how good he felt.

"You were perfect." Malleus smiled down at you, completely unable to wipe the grin off his face.

He turned his head around, his eyes locked onto yours. He leaned in as close as he could get to you and he whispered:

"The best you've ever felt, so far. " His voice was a warm growl, the kind that only promised more of what you just had.

"Oh, my dear, this is only the beginning.”

#malleus draconia #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst fanfic #twisted wonderland x reader #twst smut #twst malleus #malleus x reader #malleus x you #disney twisted wonderland

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0moony · 2 months ago

Text

if only you knew (charlie kelly x afab reader oneshot) (smut!)

🌙~*~💫~*~✨~*~💫~*~🌙

tags: very cliche and short plot, mostly smut, charlie and reader fight, heat of the moment, charlie is kinda mean but his ultimate goal is to pamper reader, charlie is Feral for reader, rough-ish mdom, slight brat taming, praise, teasing, so much dirty talk, possessiveness, fingering, p in v

you have been a bartender at paddy’s pub for a while now. everyone you work with has grown to like you quite quickly. you do your job well, you bring in more regulars, and you’re a pretty likable, chill person in general.

the one wrench in it all is charlie kelly.

you don’t know why, but he doesn’t like you. whenever you’re in the same room together he does his best to ignore you specifically, and when he isn't you swear there are daggers in his eyes directed your way.

it’s all really strange because you don’t think anything ill of him. he’s a little weird, but charming. you even think he’s pretty attractive. but no one else seems to catch on or say anything, so you’re left wondering silently what’s wrong with you in his eyes, going about your business as usual. at least the rest of the gang seems to like you a lot.

one morning you’re in paddy’s getting things together for the day. you haven’t been there long, still nursing a coffee you’d picked up on the way and restocking the bar when you hear the door open. this is unusual, typically you are alone at this hour.

you look up quizzically and see charlie walking in by himself.

“oh hey, charlie.” you give him a polite smile. he notices you and awkwardly slows in his tracks, looking like he’s dreading even greeting you.

“oh.. yeah. hey, (y/n).” he replies dryly.

“you’re here early.” you point out casually. he lets out a sigh and rubs the back of his neck, starting to step backwards.

“yeah, uh.. i think i’ll come back later. s’ya..”

your face scrunches up in confusion and you frown, but before you can say anything or question him he is already out the door. you put down the container of maraschino cherries you’re refilling with a small huff. you don’t understand why he’s so unwilling to be around you. you really can’t stand it anymore.

and so you grab your things and decide to follow him. figuring he’s just heading back home, you start there, and you guess right. when you knock on the door to his apartment, he opens. he sees you and looks to the side with an air of exasperation, putting a hand on his hip.

“charlie..” you open your mouth to speak before he can say anything. you feel a little nervous but you do your best to hold your resolve to confront him, not wanting to be left in the dark any longer. it’s obvious he has a problem with you, and you need to know what it is. “i just.. i just have to ask you something.”

you can see his jaw tense slightly but he doesn’t stop you, and so you take that as a sign to continue.

“why don’t you like me?” you’re being vulnerable now and you have to resist the urge to cringe at yourself. he doesn’t say anything for a long moment, before he puffs air out of his nose and shakes his head.

“look, (y/n), there’s really nothing to talk about.” he replies, brushing you off entirely. “could you just leave me alone?” he says, his voice calm but with a biting undercurrent of something you can’t quite grasp. you recoil slightly, taken aback. you know he isn’t fond of you, but he’s never been so blunt about it before.

he starts to shut the door on you but without thinking you force your way past him and into his apartment. he scoffs, sharp irritation hardening his features. you meet his gaze with your own firm stare, determined, and try once more to get through to him. “i’m sorry, just- please tell me what’s wrong-”

“fuck off.” he cuts you off. your eyes widen and your jaw drops, staring at him as if he just grew a second head.

“excuse me?” you’re completely offended. he grits his teeth but doesn’t immediately reply, doesn’t even look at you.

“i don’t want you here.” he replies, clearly hoping you’ll just go away. you don’t. you can’t stand this anymore.

“no. i’m not leaving until you tell me what i’ve done to make you hate me so much.” you demand, stepping towards him. he huffs.

“i don’t hate you.” he bites out, finally looking you in the eyes. there’s an intensity there, frustration and something else you can’t quite place.

“yeah, well, you’ve been treating me like shit ever since i started working with you, i think i deserve some kind of explanation.” you insist, all your bottled up feelings coming to a head. he turns away from you, clenching his fists.

“for fuck’s sake, (y/n). you’re really going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

“say what?” you take another step towards him and he casts you a dangerous glance.

“you want to know why i’ve been cold to you? why i try to keep my distance from you as much as possible?” he circles around and steps towards you now, a warning laced in his words.

“yeah, i do.” you hold his gaze and the muscles in his jaw clench.

“it’s because i fucking want you, (y/n). is that what you wanted to hear? it drives me crazy.” the words tumble out of him as if he can’t hold them in anymore. you stare up at him in complete shock.

“..w-what?” your voice is suddenly soft, your face scrunching up in confusion. as if he can’t control himself any longer he closes the distance between you until the back of your legs hit his futon, nearly stumbling backwards on it. you can feel your heart beating faster and your blood warming by the second.

“you just couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you?” he lets out a big sigh, hanging his head. his hands twitch at his sides as if he was fighting the urge to touch you.

“i-i don’t-“

“you heard me, (y/n). i want you.” he lifts his gaze to look straight at you, his face inches away. his eyes search yours knowingly, as if he’s uncovering a secret you didn’t even know you held. the secret is that you want him too.

“you’re an asshole.” you lightly scoff and furrow your brows at him, but it doesn’t cover the awestruck look on your face or the sudden rosiness to your cheeks. a smirk curves at his lips and he shakes his head.

“then why are you here?”

your lips part but nothing comes out. you can’t reply. you can’t say that you don’t want him. but you’re too stubborn in this moment to confirm his suspicions and give him the satisfaction. noticing your silence, he gives you another chance. one of his hands comes up to cup your jaw, his touch warm and surprisingly gentle, almost reverent.

“just say the word and i’ll leave you alone, pretend this never happened.” he offers, his voice a low murmur that sends shivers down your spine. his thumb traces featherlight circles on your jaw and his gaze is soft as he waits for your reply, a far cry from the typical avoidant looks you’re used to from him. you just shake your head. he lifts your chin until your lips are only a breath apart.

“you want this?”

“..yes.”

a hint of a smile breaks his features somewhere between cocky and elated, overjoyed that you’re reciprocating his feelings and delighted that he got you to admit it. he savors the vulnerable look on your face for a second longer before he can’t hold himself back anymore and captures your lips with his own.

it’s hot and heavy right out of the gate. his arms wrap around you, one going around your waist to pull you closer and the other tangling in your hair to cradle your head. the way he kisses you, slow yet deliberate, passionate and hungry, instantly makes your knees weak. but luckily you don’t have to worry about standing upright much longer, not once his hands slide down to your waist and urge you back onto his futon, following after you until you’re laying down underneath him.

“you have no idea how much i’ve thought about this.” he rasps, his lips making a purposeful path down your neck, tongue and teeth dancing across your flesh.

“why didn’t you say something?” you huff, still miffed despite the arousal coursing through you.

“i’m not.. i’m not good at this sort of thing.” he mumbles into the crook of your neck, his voice slightly apologetic as his nose nuzzles against the space underneath your ear. he’s liked you pretty much as long as he’s known you, but he’s always been too scared to do anything about it. you ruminate on this explanation before his teeth sink a little harshly into the curve of your neck, letting out his lingering irritation.

“ow-“ you gasp softly as you feel a wave of heat rise in the pit of your stomach. the hint of pain from the bite turns you on more than you expected. “okay fine, but i don’t think acting like a dick is the best alternative.” you grumble, flustered. he pulls away slowly, glancing at the small mark he left on your skin with satisfaction before meeting your gaze, furrowing his eyebrows and giving you a stern look.

“i’m planning on making it up to you if you’d shut up and let me.”

“how?”

“making you cum, for starters.” he says matter-of-factly. you feel your cheeks grow even warmer.

“what a gentleman.”

“that’s right, i am.” he mutters before locking your lips once more. his fingers start to snake under your shirt. “take this off.” he demands gruffly. you hesitate, something holding you back. maybe you’re starting to like this little back and forth, seeing his reaction to your defiance. when you don’t immediately do as he says he pulls back again, his eyes dark.

“i’m gonna need you to drop the act before i drop it for you, princess.” he warns, his voice clear and even despite the fact that he looks like he wants to rip your clothes off. he’s wanted you for so long and now that he has you he isn't going to be patient about it. you stop hesitating, this rougher side of him turning you on.

“now, that’s better. atta girl.” he simpers, his features relaxing when you slip your shirt up and over your head followed by your bra. he leans in to whisper pure filth in your ear as his hands cup your newly exposed breasts, quickly making you delirious. “i can’t wait to fuck that brattiness out of you, you know that?” he punctuates his words by pinching one of your nipples between his fingers and you whimper. “make you forget all about the stupid jerk i’ve been, yeah?” he adds, a little more sincere.

“yes, please,” you nod eagerly, your thighs pressing together from arousal. he catches this and smirks to himself.

“you’re real easy now that you’re all needy, huh, baby?” he questions, peppering kisses along your neck as he rolls his thumbs over your nipples until they’re stiff. you whine, partly out of embarrassment and partly in agreement. one of his hands leaves your chest to slide down your front.

“let’s see how wet she is already.” he mumbles huskily as his fingers suddenly slip beneath your pants and panties to find your wet slit, making you gasp. you soak his fingers instantly and he growls lowly at the feeling. “fucking dripping.. what’s got you so turned on, sweetness?” he teases, looking down at you.

“y-you..”

“yeah? what about me?” he asks, watching you closely as he lightly strokes your clit with a fingertip. your lips part to say something but instead you just moan shakily as your hips arch into his hand in a silent plea for more. he chuckles and shakes his head.

“you know..” he starts, his other hand lifting your chin so that you can’t shy away before he leans in, pressing light, affectionate kisses to the apples of your cheeks. “i think you like it when i’m a little mean to you.” he grins, taking his hand out of your undergarments and bringing his shiny fingertips to his lips for a taste right before your eyes. the sight makes you breathless, and you almost forget to defend yourself.

“i don’t know what you’re-“

“shh, one second..” he interrupts you to take hold of your pants and panties, smoothly pulling them down and off. once they’re discarded on the ground somewhere he doesn’t hesitate to push your thighs apart, his gaze zeroed in on your pussy.

“don’t shush me..” you grumble meekly, blushing from feeling so exposed and vulnerable before him. he looks up only to give you an amused glance.

“you’re really still trying to argue?” he questions. before you can form a rebuttal, he interrupts again. “silly..” he chides, clicking his tongue. “i can see how much you love this.” he nods to the heat between your legs to prove his point, running a thumb through your slick folds. you shiver, your breath hitching at the contact. “you’re gonna let me do whatever i want, won’t you?” he can’t help but taunt you, knowing it’s riling you up even more.

“t-that’s not- ah!” you’re about to feebly deny this accusation (even though it’s true) when he suddenly spanks your pussy, making your body jump and your clit throb from the harsh yet delicious feeling. instead of tensing up after the fact your legs naturally spread even wider, which he gleefully takes note of.

“what a sight..” he muses, intensely satisfied with how responsive you are. before you can get your bearings again he slips one of his fingers inside of you and circles your clit simultaneously. “i need you to stop fighting me, baby. i just wanna make it up to you, make you feel good.” he coos hypnotically as he pumps his finger in and out, soon adding a second one. when your head falls back with a moan, he knows he has you. “can you do that? can you be a good girl for me?”

“yes..” you reply breathlessly.

“yeah? gonna let me take care of you? let me put you in your place like you need?”

“yes. charlie, please,” you whine, your hips jumping as he angles his pumping digits just right.

“that’s right. i knew you’d come around, huh?” he grins, his eyes dancing with wicked satisfaction as he watches you melt with pleasure. your head lolling back and your back arching off the futon, moaning all for him.

“do you like that, baby? you like my fingers?” he purrs. they’re thick and deep, filling you up so perfectly that you can’t think about anything else.

you nod almost frantically, whimpering as pornographic sounds of your wetness fill the air. you’re so turned on, it feels like your lower belly is already growing hot with the looming threat of climax. but suddenly, he stops. his fingers go still deep inside of you, teasing you with fullness and nothing more. he curls them, lightly stroking that sweet spot inside of you that makes your eyes roll back.

“say it.” he commands, watching you. your eyebrows pinch together both from the sweet agony of being held at the precipice of pleasure and the embarrassment of what he’s making you do.

“yes, i love your fingers,” you breathe out, your lips curving into a pout. “please don’t stop..” you beg, arching into his hand desperately.

“aw, don’t worry, baby. i’ve got you.” he chuckles softly, resuming his magical touch. you melt back into the couch with a moan.

“thank you, thank you..” you babble gratefully. charlie lets out a laugh.

“look at that, remembering your manners,” he simpers, finger-fucking you steadily. you whine and clench around his digits, your back arching. “you gonna cum, sweetness? c’mon, let me make it all better..” he coaxes, his free hand sliding over your curves reverently before settling on your hip, holding you in place.

“fuck, charlie.. m’ so close..” you cry. he lets out a hum of satisfaction and leans in to place open-mouthed kisses and bites over your breasts, pumping his fingers faster.

“cum, (y/n). do it. that’s all i want.” he whispers, a hint of desperation creeping into his tone as he pulls back. he’s hovering over you now, his eyes half-lidded and his pupils blown wide as he watches your writhing form.

the coil in your belly winds tighter and tighter, and you let your head loll as you climb towards that inevitable peak. you feel you’re about to explode when he grabs you by the jaw, forcing you back to face-level.

“eyes on me.” he rasps. there’s an intensity in his gaze, as if he doesn’t want to miss a single detail. you’re completely wrecked and it’s all his doing. you obey, and the added touch of dominance sends you flying over the edge.

you struggle to keep your eyes open and focused on him as the pleasure overwhelms you, making you shake and sob. when you’re orgasm starts to subside and you’re left rolling with the waves of wonderful aftershocks, charlie leans in to kiss you as if it was his last chance on earth. his mouth moves against yours in a passionate, hungry embrace that’s not easy to keep up with amidst the fog of pure bliss clouding your senses.

“so good, s’good for me..” he mumbles against your lips, his digits still slowly moving inside of you until he’s absolutely sure that you’re spent. he takes his fingers out, using them to circle your clit that still burns with sensitivity. “fucking soaked my fingers, baby.”

you shiver and your cheeks burn at his dirty words, your hips twitching with each featherlight, torturous brush on your heated flesh. but then he finally pulls his hand away, and you let out a long exhale of relief against his lips, not much more than a puddle of satisfaction. he wipes the remnants of your juices on your thigh and then braces both of his hands on either side of you, fully caging you in underneath him.

when he breaks the kiss to plant searing hot kisses along your jawline, your eyes dart greedily to the way his bicep flexes beside your head and the way his fingers dig into the couch. but his next words pull you out of your lustful stupor.

“how’re you feeling? can you take more?” he rasps hotly against your skin. “please say yes, (y/n). i need you.” he punctuates his words by pressing his hips into yours, both of you letting out little gasps at the contact. you can feel him through his jeans and it makes your stomach lurch with need. he sounds so desperate, his tongue and teeth grazing the delicate skin around your pulse point with an almost feral intensity as if he was struggling not to devour you right then and there.

“yes, god.. please charlie.” you’re still reeling from your orgasm moments ago but utterly consumed with desire, insatiable for him. he pulls back with a growl, not even having the patience anymore to tease you for sounding so ruined already.

charlie throws his shirt off, and your eyes trace the line of hair that forms a path from his navel and disappears into his pants as he takes hold of your legs. he folds them towards your chest, spreading you wide open before he quickly undoes his jeans and pushes them down along with his boxers. his hardness falls out heavily, your mouth practically watering and your core fluttering at the sight.

he takes himself in his hand and settles between your spread thighs, cursing under his breath as he presses the tip against your wet folds. he looks entranced as he stares down at you, pulling a whine from your throat as his cock swipes over your clit.

“you’re gorgeous..” his adam’s apple bobs visibly as he says this. on the surface it’s sweet, but a flame overtakes his irises that burns with possession. he’s sure you’re his already, but in case of any doubt he’s determined to fuck you thoroughly, to prove himself as the only one to satisfy you, the only one you’ll ever need.

he notches the head at your entrance, so close to breaching. “ready, sweetness?” he asks, and you enthusiastically nod. he pushes in, both of you melting into the sensation until eventually he bottoms out inside of you, your legs slotting snugly at his sides. goosebumps erupt on your skin, your jaw dropping and your toes already curling from how good he feels.

his hair falls in his face as he hangs his head, letting out labored breaths. “christ, (y/n). you’re fuckin’- you’re perfect.” charlie groans, his hands clenching into white fists on either side of you. you’re drunk with pleasure but your eyes are focused on him, drinking in how beautiful he looks.

“how’s it, lovely? filling you good?” he checks in, and his choice of words make you dizzy.

“so good, charlie, please-“ you whimper, rolling your hips up to meet his, inviting him that much deeper inside of you. he growls and grabs your side with one hand, pinning you down.

“‘please?’ how cute.” his eyes flash with dark satisfaction at the sight of you so needy for him, so shameless. “you begging me to fuck you proper, sweetness? is that what my girl needs?”

before you reply he tests the waters, pulling out halfway before slamming back into you just once. you mewl, opening up just a bit more around him. you want so badly to buck your hips, desperate for more but he ensures that you can’t. your head swims, already so far gone you hardly remember to ask for what you want.

“y-yes, fuck. need you so bad. please, please fuck me.” you practically sob out your reply, losing your sanity with the way his girth pulses hotly inside of you, stretching you deliciously. you’re so stuffed full it feels like there isn’t a single nerve inside of you left untouched, a single inch of you left unclaimed.

“mhmm.. i will, i will.” he soothes, beginning a steady, powerful pace. your eyes roll back into your skull as the rhythmic sound of skin meeting skin fills the space. “that’s. fuck. ing. it.” he bites out, punctuating each syllable with a thrust that makes your whole body bounce underneath him.

you moan over and over. at this angle he’s hammering into your g-spot and hitting your cervix on each downward snap of his hips, igniting your every sweet spot until you see stars. you gush around him, surely making a mess. you’re so wet that there’s no doubt of how much you love this, how much you need this. and if that somehow isn’t proof enough, the way your hole is already twitching around him definitely is.

“sweet, slutty little pussy.” charlie huffs as he pounds into you, never letting up for even a second. “she’s so grateful. getting exactly what she needs, huh, baby?” you just nod and babble in agreement, feeling as if you’re floating out in space instead of on earth.

“yeah, needed my cock.” he sinks all the way to the hilt and grunts, pressing his weight into you. you cry out, your thighs quivering on either side of him. you’re panting for breath, the only thing on your mind how desperate you are for him to move again.

but before you can complain in earnest, he suddenly pulls out and rolls you onto your front. his hands dig hungrily into the fat of your hips as he guides you into position, raising your ass in the air. you’re still processing the sudden change of position, your brain seconds behind when he sheathes himself inside you again in one smooth motion, erasing any attempt you made at awareness anyway. he’s inside of you again, that’s all that’s important to your lust-drunk body.

your back arches beautifully and you let out a shuddering moan. he leans forward, one of his hands tangling into your hair and pushing your head down until your cheek smooshes against the couch. this makes you quiver around his cock, utterly unable to do anything but take what he gives.

he starts moving again, rutting into you from behind like an animal. it’s calculated, each sharp pump designed to make your body sing with ecstacy. but at the same time it’s feral, that little bit of selfishness creeping in and making his control wane.

“my cock. nobody else’s, right?” he picks up where he left off, his voice a deep growl. when you only mewl in response, he grips your hair tighter and leans in to speak directly in your ear, his chest pressing flush against your back. “right, (y/n)?”

your fingers claw into the sheets from how good he’s fucking you, absolutely brain dead. still, you scramble to form a response. hours ago you would have never imagined being in such a position with charlie, but now you’re convinced you need him to survive.

“yeah, needed your cock. just yours, love it so much..” you’re hardly coherent in your reply, constantly interrupted by sounds of pleasure spilling up from your throat.

“mhmm, and you’re taking it so well, baby. taking it like such a good girl.” he coos, letting up a little on your scalp. “my girl.”

you’re head feels heavy with pleasure, the praise making you feel so good. it scratches that itch in your brain, the reward center. you’re sure to get addicted. your legs tremble underneath you, a white hot flame erupting across your entire body as a second orgasm draws near.

“charlie, i need to-“ you’re almost doing a proper job at speaking when a particularly pointed thrust nearly sends you into orbit, reducing you to a mess once more. “need t’cum, need t’cum, charlie, please please please,” you chant dumbly, tettering on the edge.

charlie grunts, starting to succumb to his own impending climax as you tighten around him. “mm, god.. you don’t have to ask for it, sweetness. s’what i’m here for.” he wants to say more, to tell you how dedicated he is to making you feel good. to tell you how pretty you sound begging for it even if you don’t need to, how he loves how sweet and pliant you are like this, how adorably polite you become when you’re a desperate whore for pleasure, for him.

but his focus narrows down to a single point, the building sensations between you taking precedence. he looks down at where your bodies join and he watches you take him again and again, mesmerized. “i’m close too, angel. go on, squeeze my cock.” he pants, his voice breaking as he too approaches the edge.

one, two, three delicious thrusts more and you’re gone, close to weeping as he fucks you through your orgasm. a couple more thrusts, a couple more seconds of your cunt sucking him in so perfectly, and he’s right there with you, only slowing once he’s sure he’s spent every drop of his release.

you and charlie soon collapse into a sweaty heap on his futon, completely fucked out. your body vibrates with pleasure from your head to your toes like a warm glow, a deep sense of peace and contentment settling over you both.

after a bit he untangles himself from you, rolling onto his back and wrapping an arm around you to pull you close. you rest your head on his chest, your eyes closing as you settle back onto earth, bathed in comfort. you feel him shift and bring a hand to your face, brushing a gentle thumb over your cheek. you open your eyes to find him already staring at you with a mixture of tenderness and smugness.

“did i make it up to you?” he asks simply, an amused gleam in his eyes. your lips curve into a smile as you contemplate your answer. obviously it’s a resounding yes, but you can’t resist vying for more.

“hm.. i dunno. i might need more convincing.” you reply coyly. he snorts.

“oh, really?” he says in an exaggerated, sarcastic way, shaking his head. “slut..” he teases, unable to hide his smirk.

your jaw drops in mock offense and you lightly punch his arm. “am not!” you scoff, trying to be serious, but both of you soon dissolve into giggles. his head falls back against the pillow, letting out a gleeful laugh that brings you joy just by seeing it. once you settle, he looks down at you again with a soft grin, his dimples popping out.

“you’re cute.”

🌙~*~💫~*~✨~*~💫~*~🌙

#charlie kelly #charlie kelly smut #charlie kelly x reader #iasip

49 notes · View notes

streamafterlaughter · 2 months ago

Text

Soundtrack to Disaster

Chapter VII: Choose Love or Sympathy

masterlist | playlist | pinboard | prev. | diaries coming soon

songs for this chapter: xo by fall out boy, lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off, king for a day by pierce the veil

a/n: hear me when i say these two are absolutely in for it it. I'm also a huge fan of italics apparently

chapter tags: angst, hurt/comfort but then... hurt/no comfort (SORRY!), reader is a sensitive baby we love her, mean!Eddie, but also very sweet Eddie. swearing, smoking, drinking, reader struggles with self image / mental health (vague for now) | fic tags: angst, hurt/(eventual) comfort, (eventual) smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Eddie Munson x Fem!OC!Reader, Modern AU

DISCLAIMER: I do not consent to having my work fed to AI engines, or reposted in any way, shape, or form on other websites. Unless otherwise stated, this is the only account that features and contains this work, and any replication was done without my consent. Please let me know if you see my work elsewhere. Reblog/comment/like to support the author! Join the tag list!

taglist: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @kellsck @faggotine @xplrnowornever @taccobelle @micheledawn1975 @mewchiili @dreamerjj @losingmygrasponreality |

The weekend comes barreling towards you sooner than you’d have liked. You wake up Friday morning with a sense of dread, Robin’s words on a broken loop in your head: what you ‘know’ isn’t the whole goddamn story. Everyone keeps fucking saying that, but no one has actually told you what you “don’t know.”. Chris hasn’t given you a goddamn leg to stand on, speaking in riddles and never once confirming or denying a thing. You’re an adult, and you wish these fuckers would start treating you like one.

On your nightstand, your phone buzzes repeatedly, a string of incoming text messages:

bobbins: so,, ive smoked some weed bobbins: im cool now bobbins: i still think there’s a lot we don’t know,, bobbins: but I’m sorry for insinuating you should forgive him. bobbins: i cant imagine how you felt that day. bobbins: i love u bb

You scramble to respond before she can get another five messages in,

it’s ok bob, i love u 2

The subject changes swiftly as she tosses questions about tonight at you one after the other. You send her pictures of your outfit choices, hairstyle ideas, personal protection list before finally asking her the question gnawing on your brain.

What if he doesn’t like me?

Robin responds by calling you.

“Hi?”

“Don’t be stupid.” She starts, not letting you explain. “He asked you out, why wouldn’t he like you?!”

“I dunno! Maybe he’s just looking for a hookup. Maybe he thought I’d be easy?” The suggestion sounds silly coming out of your mouth, and you hear Robin scoff at you.

“Look, if things start to stink, call me. Steve’s closing tonight, so he’ll be right down the street.”

You sigh into the receiver. “Okay, okay. You’re right, I’m probably worried for nothing.”

“Atta girl! Now go on, go headbang or whatever it is you people do.”

You snort as you say your goodbyes, and hang up the phone. Without Robin to distract you, you turn to the outfits you’ve spread out on your bed. Emo Nite is casual, sure, but you still want to look good. You decide on a pair of Tripp pants, adorned with metal hooks and chains, pairing it with an old Paramore shirt you cropped with kitchen scissors in high school. With your outfit out of the way, you sit at your vanity to do your makeup, extending your winged eyeliner a little further than you would on a normal day. When you’re done, your alarm clock reads 8:30, and you make your way to your car.

–

9:15.

The lights of the city seem to dance across the sky. Everything is louder here, bustling with nightlife you could only dream of seeing in Hawkins. You’re standing outside the club alone, nursing the end of your last cigarette. Maybe he’s running late? You don’t have a single unread text from Scotty. You type several different messages of your own, deleting each one before settling on “You on your way?” But its delivery is never confirmed. It’s grown cold outside, and you wrap your flannel tighter around you to keep the wind out. You should have brought a jacket, but you weren’t expecting to be outside for this long. You can hear the first notes of an old favorite song, followed by a bunch of 20 somethings cheering. Patrons are dressed in black, clad in leather and fishnets, their combat booted feet stomping into the venue. Emo Nite is a nostalgia cash grab, you know that, but you’re envious of everyone setting foot inside, surrounded by their friends and peers, leaving you abandoned at the door.

–

9:30.

The time taunts you from your phone screen. You’re waiting outside the club, the air brisk on your face. Every so often, the door swings open as someone enters or exits, and you turn to see if it’s someone for you. So far, none of them have been, and you’re debating whether or not to walk to the record store and ask Steve to hitch a ride back to his place to mope.

“Hey, Bee!” The voice calling you isn’t the one you’re hoping to hear, but it’s just as familiar. You find its source across the street, Macy waving at you eagerly as her bandmates and fucking Eddie follow behind. Oh, right. Like being stood up isn’t humiliating enough, now Eddie gets to tease you about it.

“What’re you doing out here, girl? It’s freezing!” Macy is sweet, holding your icy cheeks between her warm hands. You can tell she’s already had a few drinks.

“I’m, hm,” You clear your throat, “I’m waiting for someone.”

“A date? Eek! Hear that, Eds? Our girl has a date!” Her words send static through your veins. Since when are you anyone’s girl, let alone Munson and Macy’s?

“Mhm, okay, honey. Let’s go get you situated, yeah?” Eddie ushers her inside, handing her off to Fiona before returning to where you’re standing. Without a word, he lights a cigarette and offers it to you, and you take it without acknowledgement while he lights his own. After what seems like hours, the two of you choose to speak at the same time,

“How late is–” “Why did you–” “What?” “What?”

“You first,” Eddie gestures to you before pulling from his cigarette.

“Why did you tell Scotty to ask me out?”

“What in the world makes you think I told him to ask you out?”

“Look, she’s gonna kill me for telling you this, but Robin overheard you in the bathroom talking to Scotty at the bar. She walked in by accident, and you two had come in before she could leave. Anyway, you know she can’t keep secrets for shit, so she told me what you said to him. Why?” You cross your arms, attempting to hold in as much body heat as possible,but to no avail. Eddie notices, and immediately sheds his jacket, not giving you a chance to refuse it as he drapes the leather over your shoulders.

“I thought he was a cool dude. Thought you guys would hit it off.” His answer does nothing to satiate the hunger for every detail of every single thought that went through his brain up until this very moment. He is driving you fucking insane. “Hey, I bet I could get Macy to put you on the guestlist, so at least tonight won’t be a total waste?” Yet another peace offering from Eddie Munson. Hell must have frozen over.

He doesn’t wait for your approval before reaching into his inner jacket pocket of the coat that you have since put fully on to shield yourself from the wind, to grab his phone. After eagerly punching a few buttons, he holds the device up to his ear, plugging the other with his finger. “Hey, babe. I’m outside with Bee, Scott stood her up.” You can’t hear what Macy’s response is, but Eddie replies with, “You read my mind, honey. We’ll be in in a sec.” He ends the call and turns his attention back to you, his big brown eyes attempting, it seems, to read your mind. “You pissed?”

You shake your head, inhaling another drag of your cigarette. “Not really. Disappointed, I guess.” You pick at your cuticles, refusing to hold eye contact with Eddie, but that doesn’t stop him from boring his own into the top of your head; you can feel them penetrating your skull. “Could’a used the distraction.”

“Fancy me a distractor? Macy’s gonna be busy, I’m practically all by myself tonight.” You look up, and Eddie’s jutting his bottom lip out to pout at you.

“You don’t mind being seen with me?” You tease, flicking ash onto the concrete. You can’t imagine Eddie actually wants you to agree to this offer.

“Why would I? When have I ever cared what people think of me? Especially these posers.” He gestures to you, and you fake offense.

“Posers?! I’ll have you know I have met some of the most authentic punks at places like this, you dweeb!” You toss your cigarette butt on the ground, stomping out the embers with your boot.

“Sorry, sorry! I’m used to going to shows where people leave bloody. Not used to this side of the alternative Venn Diagram, I guess.” He flicks his own cigarette, mirroring your movements. “Shall we go inside?” You nod begrudgingly, and he opens the door to the club for you, stopping to give the bouncer your names.

–

The club is dark, expectedly. The lights flash shades of pink, purple, and blue as people dance and attempt to chat over the noise; and the whole scene is set to the music of your childhood and teen years. As Eddie leads you across the floor, you can feel your chest tighten, watching couples surrounding you, dancing or sloppily making out against the back wall. You let it sink in that you've been stood up. The first time in three years you’d even attempted to go on a date, and the guy didn’t even show up. You hum along to the song playing, a desperate plea for distraction from the situation in front of you. Meanwhile, Eddie leads you to a table away from the speakers, and shouts that he’ll be right back. You can only guess he’s off to wish his girlfriend luck.

While you wait, you observe the crowd around you, and it’s full of kids you knew in high school that used to bully you for liking this kind of music, dressed as caricatures with arm warmers and cheap chains dangling off their black skinny jeans. Conventionally attractive girls wear their eyeliner in heavy wings, their lips painted shades of dark red, dancing with boys in all black with long hair. You try not to think about what Scotty would have worn. You wonder if he even likes this kind of thing. Maybe it was a test, and you'd failed.

Just as you’re about to spiral into misery again, Eddie returns with two drinks in his hands. “You like shirleys, right? I wasn’t totally sure. I can go grab you something else if you want?” If you didn’t know any better, you would think Eddie was nervous.

“No, this is good. Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem!” He has to yell over the music.

“And, uh, thanks for hanging out with me. I know it’s like, the last thing you wanna be doing right now.”

Eddie takes a swig of his beer before responding, “Nah, definitely not the last thing. This is way better than listening to Steve talk about his latest conquest.” You picture the scenario, Eddie slamming his head against a wall while Steve goes on and on about Tracy, or Nicole, or whoever it is this week. The mental image makes you giggle, and Eddie’s smile seems to widen. It makes you uncomfortable, being so close to him. Luckily, though, you don’t get to think about it too long.

“Alright, alright! Thank you guys for comin’ out to hang with us! We have a guest for you tonight, please welcome Macy Miller, frontwoman of Statuesque Dolls!” The crowd cheers politely, these things never have people worth freaking out over. Macy takes the stage, clad in a silky black dress that hugs her form perfectly. Next to you, Eddie is whooping and hollering, “That’s my girl!” It makes your stomach churn. You’re reminded again that you’re supposed to be here on a date. You’re supposed to be someone’s girl.

“Alright, I got a couple of songs for you guys, but I need all of you up and shaking some emo ass with me, got it?!” You can’t deny Macy knows how to work a crowd. She gets people to migrate to the dance floor, and Eddie offers his hand out. “Can I have this dance?”

“Um,” You hesitate to take his outstretched palm. “What about Macy?” You point lamely to where Macy is killing her cover of Fall Out Boy’s XO.

“What about her? It’s a dance, Bee. I’m not, like, asking you to sleep with me or some shit.” Eddie frowns at you, like you’ve offended him.

He does have a point, though. One dance won’t kill you. You accept his gesture, taking his own massive hand in yours, and hope to god he can’t tell that yours is sweating. He leads you to the dance floor, waving to Macy from the crowd as he does. There’s a burn in your stomach when she blows him a kiss, and he pretends to catch it in his mouth. You’re close to bailing when Eddie turns his attention back to you, clearing his throat.

You stare back at him, eyes wide with fear that he’s going to bail, and you prepare to tuck your tail between your legs and call Robin. Instead, Eddie takes your hand again, and yanks you into his embrace. You bump into his chest, but he recovers the fumble by holding you there, free arm resting hesitantly on your waist. You’re frozen, having no clue where to put your hands, so Eddie takes the lead. He drops the hand he’s holding on his shoulder, and moves your other to meet it on the other side. He then rests both his hands on your hips, giving you enough space between his body and yours to breathe, but barely.

The song continues, melodramatic and overtly horny. That, combined with the warmth of the drink in your veins, plus the closeness of Eddie, makes you feel almost good. It’s difficult not to overthink, though, having him in your personal space, your bodies pressed together on a very hot, crowded dance floor, moving in ways you definitely wouldn't have done three hours ago.

“So,” Eddie muses, looking anywhere but at you as he speaks, but still able to move in sync with you. “How’s your day goin’?”

You snicker at his poor attempt at conversation. “Well, I got stood up, and now I’m dancing with who I would have bet this morning wanted absolutely nothing to do with me. All things considered, I think it’s going pretty horribly!”

The ice seems to crack as you speak, Eddie visibly relaxing as you sway to the music. “Okay, that’s fair. Are you pleasantly surprised?”

You look up at him, but his eyes are locked over your head, staring where Macy stands onstage, swaying with a few friends in front of the DJ booth. You shrug. “Jury’s still out.”

He snorts, rolling his eyes at you. After what feels like an eternity, the song ends and Macy queues another rock anthem to get the crowd moving again. You’re unmoving as Eddie unwraps himself from you. “We should do this again sometime.” He states, unreadable.

“What, dance?”

“Sure, or just, y'know, hang out. Be civil for once. It’s been awhile.”

You roll your eyes. “You know this can’t be, like, a normal thing. It bruises our reputation as sworn enemies.” A feeble attempt to make it a joke, though you know in your heart you can’t be friends with Eddie. The earth would cave in on itself.

Eddie chuckles. “Whatever you say, Bee. See ya ‘round.” And he leaves you alone, disappearing into the crowd.

–

It’s 11:30 when your phone buzzes. You’re four drinks deep, stirring another dirty shirley at the bar, observing the people around you having fun.

Scotty A: Hey! Totally meant to text you. Got stuck at work.

An avalanche of thoughts rumbles through you, most of them not safe for work. You don’t even know how to respond. There’s no apology, no groveling for your forgiveness, not a hint of actual, real regret. Like you don’t matter. It exhausts you to even think of what that date would’ve been like had he shown up. You type your response between gulps of liquid courage.

“Are you fucking serious?”

The "..." bubble appears, but quickly vanishes. You gape at your phone, wishing you were home so you could let out the blood curdling scream building in your chest. The anger vibrating through you needs an escape, so you lurch from your seat at the bar, rushing quickly out of the club. Eddie whips his head around as you pass him. You think you hear him call your name, but your eyes have started stinging and he’s the last person you want to see you cry.

The night air hits you hard, bringing separate tears to your eyes. Following your therapist’s advice, you start a box breathing exercise. Breathe in, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four. Breathe out, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four.

“Hey,” The voice startles you into a hiccup. “You okay?” Eddie has made his way outside after you, leaning against the wall. “Saw you dash outta there like something caught fire. Got worried.” He says it nonchalantly, and it takes you aback. Instead of responding, you flip your phone screen towards him. His eyes scan the page before they focus back on you, shaking his head. “That is so fucked up.”

Your voice breaks with your next question. “Did you know this was gonna happen? Scotty’s your friend.”

Eddie’s face drops into a grimace. “How would I have known? Why would I have told him to hit you up if I knew this was gonna happen?”

It frustrates you how reasonable he’s being. You want someone to yell at, someone to blame, and Eddie just so happens to be the closest target. “I don’t know! Maybe you did it as revenge, or something equally as immature. Maybe you wanted me to feel the same way you did when–”

He interrupts, shaking his head feverishly. “I wouldn’t wish that feeling on anyone. Even you.” The words are a knife to your chest. You don’t like remembering what you did to Eddie that night, but it’s your fault for bringing it up. “I told Scotty to ask you out because he said he liked you. Crazy concept, I know, but i suggest you stop thinking everyone’s out to get you. I thought it would be fun, hanging out with you and him. I’m sorry it didn’t go how you planned, but blaming me isn’t fucking fair, Bee.”

He’s right, but you can’t bring yourself to back down. “It’s not fair to take someone’s brother away for six years, but you had no problem doing that.”

“Fuck you, Bee. Seriously.” He spits the words before turning on his heel, and heading inside. You are once again left alone, outside, in the cold.

–

#st #fics #munson #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson x y/n #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x oc!reader #hurt/comfort #hurt/no comfort #slow burn #angst #enemies to friends to lovers #modern au #reader is not an elder emo per se... she's 23-24ish #stranger things

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captainkirkk · 1 year ago

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✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

The Bachelor: Robin Edition by Vamillepudding

Gotham loses its Robin and Bruce Wayne loses a son. Tim finds one of these too tragic to bear. In his quest to make sure Bruce Wayne lives to see the next year, he strikes upon the perfect solution: another son.

His best bet is, naturally, Crime Alley.

By 8 pm that day, Drake Manor is filled with ten black-haired, blue-eyed boys sitting around the large dining table, looking around the room suspiciously.

Well. Eleven. But Tim doesn’t think he counts.

ATLA

Dish Duty by Princeliest

All Zuko had been trying to do was wash some dishes. Or: The one where Zuko and Katara both mean well, but still can't find their footing around each other in time to prevent explosive shouting, broken dishes, an impromptu arrest, and Team Avatar's third- nay, fourth jailbreak. Fifth? They've lost count at this point, but at least they're not willing to lose Zuko... now, if only he realized that.

Merlin

all oak and iron bound by numinousnumbat

Some of those born with magic are repelled by iron. Merlin wished he knew how much iron there was in Camelot before he started his new life there.

HTTYD

Abandon Hope Who Enters Here (everyone who enters here) by JaggedEmeraldsOfGold

Eret had spoken about the mindless cruelty of Drago’s base and soldiers, but there’s nothing like seeing it in front of her to make it really, really sink in. She’d wanted to empathize, but she doesn’t think she really understood.

She does now.

Astrid leans her head back until it hits the wall behind her, and blinks up at the ceiling.

It’s going to be a long three days.

Or: Instead of facing the Monstrous Nightmare in the Kill Ring, Hiccup packs up and leaves Berk on Toothless, defeating the Red Death on his own as he goes. Six years later, Hiccup has royally fucked up– Hiccup has severely underestimated Drago, and now Hiccup is cramped, tired, hungry, without his prosthetic, and he really, really, really misses Toothless.

Imagine his surprise (read: complete and utter dread) when he wakes up one day to see absolutely none other than Astrid Hofferson, Snotlout Jorgenson, Fishlegs Ingerman, and Ruffnut and Tuffnut Thorston sitting in the cell across from him.

against the wind by underpassgraffiti

When Hiccup and Snotlout get stranded, they have to work together to stay alive.

Easier said than done.

To End a War by GhostStone

Stoick may not listen to Hiccup, but there is one person he does listen to on occasion. And that one person just happens to be someone who will listen to Hiccup.

An AU where the night before he is meant to kill the dragon, Hiccup realized how awful his plan is and goes to Gobber for help.

the soul of a dragon by castelia

Soulmarks amongst humans are easily identifiable: they are words tattooed on skin, words to be spoken during the first moment where two people truly connect. No one believes dragons have soulmarks, let alone that a dragon and a human can share a soul bond.

Until Hiccup.

#i fell down the httyd rabbit hole and i refuse to apologise for it #happy october everyone #my posts #fic recs #weekly fic round up #dc recs #httyd recs #merlin recs #atla recs

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gallus-rising · 4 months ago

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mp100 horror fic recs 👻🎃

For a while now I've been thinking about mp100's amazing horror potential and how it really doesn't get enough attention. SO! For the spooky season why don't you settle down with a nice scary story ;D

All of these fics are complete and have no shipping. I've only linked 1 fic per author so this list doesn't get bloated, but all of these wonderful authors have other fics just waiting for you to read them ❤ Some definitely freaked me out more than others, but I'm not gonna give any particular ratings since "scary" is so subjective. All fics are properly tagged and you know your own limits better than I do.

Also feel free to add on your own recs!! My general reading preferences and parameters when making this list is only a small sampling, so please share any and all of your favs ❤ Hope you enjoy!

If you see an "N/A" instead of a Tumblr UN that means there wasn't one linked in either the fics' notes or author's bio. If you know the author or are the author yourself feel free to let me know so I can edit the post :] And now in no particular order I present:

The Immeasurable Dark: @tinkertoysdamn Immediately breaking my own "no ships" rule just this once because I can't resist a good House of Leaves inspired story! If you've read HoL is you know what's up. If not expect a fucked-up house and impossibly large spaces, funky text formatting and footnotes, maybe a minotaur. Ship featured is background established serirei.

a pilgrimage: @tooomuchtofu Divine Tree arc bad ending. Told from the PoV of an unnamed worshiper on their first visit to "the capital" aka an overgrown Seasoning City. Uses second person pov wonderfully to build the dread.

And Who Is Killing Me?: @sammisafetypin Koyama beats the shit outta Mob a little harder than in canon, hospitalizing him and delaying the 7th Division rescue arc by [TIME NOT FOUND]. The Awakening Lab kids are so minor I tend to forget they even exist, but oh my god does this author make you care about them! This fic is written with great suddenly swapping PoVs that keep you feeling off kilter without making you lose track of the story. It's the longest fic on this list by far but 100% worth every second of it. A real gut punch.

Adoration: (N/A) The Divine Tree takes a particular interest in Reigen. I don't think I've ever seen anyone properly touch on how creepy the Psycho Helm constructs themselves are like this fic has. God, those things freak me out so much. Features "shipping" in the sense of a sentient broccoli becoming fixated on a guy. Keep in mind that the Psycho Helms look like Mob if you think that'll squick you out, but for me personally it added to the horror.

Similarities: (N/A) Reigen receives a fucked up email. Ends on the sillier side, but BOY is that email fucked up!

The Water Ran Clean: @bandtrees A Mogami-mentors-Mob AU and a damn fine one at that. Love the sort of fragmented style it's written in, and the exploration of Mogami's fucked up moral code is great. There's some Choice viscerally described imagery here 👌👌 Features a drawing of Mob covered in blood just in case that freaks you out; but worry, it's not his :]

An Outlier Among a Sea of Common Denominators: @hebezunet A rewrite of the early Divine Tree arc that asks the question we've all been too scared to consider: What if the brainwashing was like cordyceps? In particular I want to highlight the opening scene where after eating the broccoli powder cookies Teru has to physically rip florets out of his body to resist being brainwashed. Very gnarly stuff.

Prison Surveillance: (N/A) Touichirou was a very bad boss so Hatori pulls a The Ring to torment him in Psychic Supermax Prison. Was written pre-season 3 so Hatori doesn't work for the government.

Stairs: (N/A) Reigen and Mob have a job in the woods. There are some stairs. Inspired by an r/nosleep story which the author links to if you'd like to check that out as well.

Fight, Flight, or Fraud: @cowardlybean So everyone's got a really specific supernatural fear, right? Something that could absolutely never happen in real life but when you see it in media it freaks you the fuck out? Mine is someone I know being killed and replaced by an evil doppelganger and I'm the only one who knows. I've not seen anything since The Magnus Archives that's properly captured that fear like this fic, which is some of the highest praise I can bestow.

In Quicksand: @ghoststrawberries Reigen catches a nasty cold and by that I mean he gets possessed. Very fun the way Reigen's train of thought and feeling shifts around as the evil spirit tries to influence him while he's unconsciously resisting it. The scene where the gang realizes Reigen's been possessed is a real "OOOOOH, SHIT!!!" moment, but I won't spoil ;D

Playing Human: (N/A) Espers and psychic powers might not be real but spirits are. Poor baby Mob is a ghost possessing his own dead body. Features Dimple as the bad guy.

Mithridatism: If I may be so self-indulgent to list one of my own fics here :3 Absorbing evil spirits while still alive was actively killing Mogami and I wanted to dig into that! Features my Signature™ (lol) "HEY, DON'T EAT THAT!!" style of body horror.

#mp100 #shigeo kageyama #reigen arataka #dimple #serizawa katsuya #ritsu kageyama #mogami keiji #fanfic recs #horror #(i wasn't sure if i should tag every single character so i just picked the major recurring ones >.>)#*furious pecking*

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kishibe-kisser · 1 year ago

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Diluc hosts a masquerade ball at the winery and you look too good

tags: making out? Diluc is aloof, mentions of reader wearing a dress, suggestive

Considering the man's reputation for being slightly bitter, it came as a surprise when the citizens of Mondstadt received a fancy invitation on their doorsteps. The invite was for a masquerade ball, a promotional event for the winery's newest product and as much as Diluc was dreading the occasion, he knew it was a good business move.

Standing on the stairs in the winery, he watched everyone converse, dance and try the new drink from a distance. It was odd to have this many people in the place he nearly considered sacred and he trying his hardest not to let it bother him. Though the presence of the Knights of Favonius wasn't exactly doing much to ease his mind either. Even though they were wearing masks, they stood out like sore thumbs. Especially Kaeya, who was parading around and talking to anyone who would give him the time of day.

It made Diluc sigh, averting his eyes to the other side of the room. Everyone was dressed to the nines, but you, you stood out. You had always caught his eye, even on a day to day basis but this evening, you looked phenomenal. Even with the mask, he could tell who you were. The swing of your hips being a dead give away. Your red gown clung to your figure, drawing nearly all eyes to you, but you didn't seem to notice. Your eyes were trained on him, hiking your dress up slightly to scale the stairs and join him.

"Isn't it rude to isolate yourself at your own event?" You asked, taking in the red head's appearance. His mask matched his suit perfectly and his red hair was pulled into a higher ponytail than usual, showcasing his broad shoulders. He looked so handsome and you couldn't even see his whole face.

"They should be happy there's an event here at all." Diluc grumbled, turning so that he was fully facing you. You laughed, extending your hand to fix his collar and allowing your gaze to linger over his features. "It's a beautiful party though, I must say. Even the new drink is very good." You let his collar go and ripped away your gaze, now leaning on the bannister. He followed suit, still allowing his eyes to drink in your body. "I must say, the way you look tonight puts this party to shame. All this effort put in planning, defeated by a red dress." He said, tone flat as he looked out over his guests once more. He couldn't let his emotions show too much, what would the rest of Mondstadt think if his ice cold demeanor melted simply by looking at you.

Then again he didn't care that much, moving to lean over you. Hands on either side of you on the railing, trapping you between him and the bannister. Diluc's face was in front of yoursand his breath was fanning over your lips. "It would be even more rude to leave the event entirely." You mumbled, your eyes flitting down to his lips. "Not if it's under the guise of giving a guest a tour." He mumbled, lifting his hand to cup your cheek. His lips pressed into yours as he pulled his body to press against yours even more. He was definitely beyond caring and kissing you so deeply you simply knew that if Barbara saw it she'd be blushing. His hand moved from your cheek to your chin, and gave it a squeeze as his tongue dipped into your mouth. He could taste winery's sweet new drink on your tongue and it made him absolutely dizzy.

"I believe you haven't seen my office... or my bedroom." He pulled away, ignoring the way the room seemed to be watching you both. "I believe you're right." You agreed, not looking back once as he grabbed your hand to tug you along and have you both disappear at the top of the stairs. Event be damned, he didn't care about it anyways. Diluc did however care about your dress and how it would look on his bedroom floor.

A/N: this was a fun little blurb idea I had. Just wanted to get it out.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #diluc #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #diluc smut

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ghuleh-recs · 5 months ago

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Hey did you know one of my favorite people was born today?! It's @ramblingoak's birthday and it feels very fitting to me that she gets the first mixtape: volume two (you can find vol. 1 here)! As per usual, I have compiled a list of some of my favorite fics to celebrate Oak Day.

Where to even begin with Oakie? Well you'd be hard-pressed to find a more supportive person in this entire fandom. She's an incredible friend who always ALWAYS has a kind word to add in the tags and/or a sexy photo of papa to brighten your day when you need it most. If that weren't enough, Oak is a truly wonderful writer. I dare you to find a collection of works that feel more cinematic. I reread her writing whenever I need to feel something™—which is to say: often.

All that to say: Oakie I adore you and hope you have a fantastic birthday. Everyone go leave some kudos and comments as a lil gift. Or maybe even a birthday tip!!

recs under the cut.

Clockwork Hearts - Copia x Reader T, 3.7k

The Ghost universe set in a world of machines and magic. This takes place in a new alternate universe series I'm working on, Clockwork Hearts. Eventually there will be a Copia x Reader main story but for now I've been working on small little fics that take place in that world and I'll be adding them here.

Wholesome Headcanons - Primo Thinking About His Brothers - Primo G, 1.3k

Someone on Tumblr asked for any wholesome Papa headcanons I had and I rambled about how Primo felt about his younger brothers. Perhaps a spiritual sequel to Dumbasses.

Naps With Copia - Copia x Reader G, 8.9k

Just a series of drabbles/ficlets featuring you napping with Copia throughout the abbey.

The Repugnant - Mary Goore x Reader E, 4.6k

Your father always warned you that you were too curious for your own good. After hearing rumors of the pirate ship The Repugnant in the area you snuck out of your father's villa to try and get a peek at the dreaded pirate and his crew of monsters. But what happens when Captain Mary Goore gets a peek of you first?

Tales From Lucifer's Hollow - everybody x everybody E, 15.6k

Short snippets of what life is like for the ghouls and humans that live in the picturesque (and Satanic!) town of Lucifer's Hollow. This is an alternate universe series I'm working on that will feature lots of drabbles and one-shots here as well as longer fics focused on particular pairings in the future. To begin with most of these will be based on the prompts for Mushy May on Tumblr.

Another Round - Secondo x Reader E, <1k

Just some all night worship with your Papa…

To Tease A Cardinal - Copia x Reader E, 3k

While your Cardinal is away on tour you can't help but tease him from the comforts of his own bed…

Shooting His Shot - Terzo x Omega E, <1k

It's the Winter Olympics and Omega gets distracted hearing his favorite ABBA song playing nearby…

Copia on ICE! - Copia x Reader E, 14.8k

At what would probably be your final Winter Olympics you needed to focus on realizing your dream of winning gold. You definitely didn't need to start a whirlwind romance with world famous speed skater Copia Emeritus…

Suggestions - Copia x Swiss T, 1k

From a prompt list on Tumblr, an Anon wanted Papa x Swiss with a kiss "as a suggestion"! a very thorough kiss with some suggestive stuff after hehe

𖤐 you know the drill--bookmark, read, and leave kudos/comments!

You've always got a standing invitation from me to add your own rec and reblog ♡

#HBD beloved oakie ♡#birthday mixtape #my fic recs #ramblingoak #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost band fanfic #oakie's writing #reader insert #copia x reader #secondo x reader #cardinal copia x reader #papa iv x reader

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starrzhao · 2 years ago

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what are the odds? | k.tr

synopsis you've tried numerous attempts in confessing to taerae but somehow it always ends up turning into unfortunate accidents…misleading taerae into thinking you hate him at some poor attempts

pairing taerae x gn!reader

genre romance, fluff, humor, angst if you squint

word count 9.6k

content/tags sfw, miscommunication/misunderstanding trope, university!au setting, part-time barista!taerae

warnings I am not funny but I tried, swearing, a lotta things are unrealistic (anyways it’s fiction lol) , the y/n here is kind of a dumbass sorry (to clarify, you are not dumb at all! I’m just referring to the mc here 😭😞), low-key gave up halfway so things may be messy, will try to edit and proofread later when I have the time

featuring former boys planet trainees, kum junhyeon , park hanbin , cha woongki and seowon

taglist @leagreenly @kpoprhia @dimplewonie @shanb1n @wtfhyuck @mikaymee (kindly send an ask/dm if you’d like to be added or removed)

HOW IT ALL STARTED

One of your friends, sung hanbin had decided to host an open-mic event at his cafe for the first time. At first, you didn’t want to go because of the number of assignments you had all piled up as your horridly long to-do list was desperate for your attention. but your friend was also desperate too, begging you to come as he was afraid only a few people would bother to show up.

So being the good friend you are (and terrible procrastinator looking for an excuse to not do work), you decided to go. Your other friends, zhanghao, ricky and junhyeon also tagged along to support as well.

To your surprise, the cafe was actually really full, more and more people rolled in every hour and although you loved to socialize, your battery was draining from seeing the number of people at a high.

There were a lot of talented people who took the stage. With some pouring out their emotions with their personal spoken-word poetry, some inducing laughter with stand-up comedy and some taking the stage to sing their heart out with a touching ballad or a fun pop song.

It was a particularly entertaining night but with the number of people increasing in the cafe, it was draining and dreadful to be with a swarm of people. It wasn’t that you didn’t like to socialize, it was just suffocating to be in a large crowded cafe.

It was 1 am but the open-mic was still lively and has yet to reach its end with a quite big number of people still waiting in line to take the stage.

“I want to go home.” You yawn before comfortably resting your head on the table as you hear another poetry number.

“I gotta go I have a 7 am class tomorrow, the professor will rip my head off if I’m late again. I already told hanbin so he won’t kill me. Bye guys.” Ricky was the first one to leave from your group, bidding you guys a farewell.

Hanbin begged you guys to stay throughout the whole open mic to ensure there was going to be an audience for every performer. As the hours passed, less and less people were at the cafe.

“Thank you to everyone who came today especially to the ones who decided to stay until the end of our event. Now we know there’s still some of you who wish to perform their piece tonight but I’m afraid we have to end it after one last performance. Do not fret, there will be another open-mic event in the future! I hope to see you all stop by again. “ Hanbin relays his closing remarks for the event.

“And now, to finally wrap our event, let’s give the stage to the last but definitely not the least, kim taerae! Let’s all give it up for him.” Claps and cheers echoed through the room for the last performer. A young man walked into the stage with a guitar in his hand, he was dressed in a white denim jacket with a pair of blue jeans and his hair was styled in a little messy perm. He enters the stage and greets the crowd with a sweet smile.

“Hello everyone! I am kim taerae and to end today’s open-mic on a good note, I will be singing man in love by infinite. Hope you enjoy.” You were a little surprised at his low voice. You get up from your position and sit uptight, eager to watch the performance of the new man you found attractive. From his looks and to his speaking voice, he already seemed promising .

The moment he started singing, you melted over his vocals. His voice was quite deep yet also so sweet and soft. His voice was so captivating and everyone in the audience was in awe.

The performance was so satisfying and heartwarming to watch. He was also looking into the eyes of the members of the audience as if he was in a concert. At one point, your eyes meet and you felt your heart skip a beat as he flashed a charming bright smile as his eyes met yours for a moment.

At that moment, you felt your world stop for a moment like you have just met eye-to-eye with the love of your life. All throughout the performance, you felt as if you two were the only one there. As if taerae was pouring all those words out to you.

Soon, the song had finally come to an end and the crowd loudly claps and cheers, everyone was swooned by his heartfelt performance.

“Thank you everyone, hope you all enjoyed the night and get home safe. Take care!” He bids his farewell and everyone immediately stands up from their seats, ready to leave the event.

The next day arrived and here you were on your first day in a new class. You were sleep deprived and was trying your hardest not to fall asleep as soon as you sat down.

Everyone else chatted about whatever went on in their lives. A lot of the others already knew each other too. You were sitting in the back with no one next to you, feeling slightly out of place.

“Hey may I sit here?” A familiar low voice spoke. You get up and look at your left. Loe and behold, It was that sweet singer from yesterday.

“Yes of course.” You reply and flash a small smile.

“You’re kim taerae?”

“Oh yeah! How do you know me?

“I recognize you, you were at the open-mic last night at the cafe last night, right?”

“Ah yes that’s me!” He lightly chuckles in response.

“You were incredible last night, you were the perfect person to end the show. Your singing was amazing! It was so sweet and satisfying to hear. And then when y-I’m so sorry I think I’m rambling now.” His ears turned red from your compliment, keeping a shy smile on over the compliments you gave. You worried that you were doing too much.

“No no it’s fine! And thank you so much, I appreciate it, really.”

“ sorry I forgot to introduce myself but I’m y/n by the way. nice to meet you taerae.” You let your hand out to which he gladly shakes.

“And I’m well, as you already know haha, taerae but it’s very nice to meet you y/n. looking forward to getting to know you.” That sweet smile painted on his face as he seats himself next to you.

_________________________________

you have liked, actually no scratch that, you have been in love with taerae since the first day you met him..

After becoming seatmates on the first day and getting along, you were bound to see each other every week, and after talking to him during every class, sharing about anything and everything in your lives instead of actually paying attention to your lectures, your feelings had gotten stronger as you had gotten to know him more over the course of a few months

He was a very smart, humble and sweet person. A million words weren’t even enough to describe his personality. To top it all off, he was incredibly handsome too. He had that sweet signature smile that always brightened your day. It was hard not to fall for someone like him.

He also became a part-time employee at hanbin’s cafe, although you only every visited once a week to see hanbin, you started going everyday to see taerae.

_________________________________

“hey y/n we know that you’re down bad for mr. cutie pie over there but please pay attention to your friends.” junhyeon snaps at you from your trance after catching you once, again getting lost in your own world staring at taerae for the millionth time today.

currently, you and your friends were hanging at the cafe owned by hanbin located near your uni.

“Yeah, huh yes.” junhyeon and gunwook laugh at your reaction.

Speaking of the devil(or angel, you would think), taerae suddenly approaches your table.

“hey guys I’m clocking out now, just tell hanbin if you need anything. and y/n see you on monday!” he sends you his signature smile as he waves at your friends a farewell as he leaves the cafe.

“see you!” you were smiling so big at him, unaware of how you were smiling so big like a fool. junhyeon and gunwook giggle and whisper amongst themselves, teasing your absolutely lovesick state.

“yeah and they say they have a little crush, and they’ve been trying to hide it.” Junhyeon teases.

“Oh shut up.” You smack his arm and turn away, trying to hide your so painfully obvious blushing state.

“we are so sick of you shooting heart eyes at him for the longest time, oh god when do you plan on finally asking him out?” gunwook says.

“now that you mention it I think I’m planning on confessing to taerae soon.”

your friends dramatically gasp altogether. they certainly didn’t expect you to make a move a year after meeting him.

“You really are?”

“Yeah I was actually thinking of telling him after the open-mic tomorrow.”

“Ooooh how?” Sung hanbin chips in as he takes a seat at your table and casually sneaks a bite from zhanghao’s cheesecake sitting on the table.

“hey what the hell that’s mine, don’t think you’re so slick.” zhanghao snatches the fork from hanbin’s hand and hanbin chuckles at zhanghao’s annoyed state.

“hanbin what are you doing here aren’t you supposed to be working?” you turn to look at him and he comfortably sinks his back into the couch.

“you guys are the only ones here anyways and I’m closing the cafe in a bit. i also heard the words taerae and confess so of course I had to join in.”

“anyways moving back to the topic, how are you going to tell him” hanbin mentions once again.

“I was just planning on just simply saying it. All straight forward like hey.. I like you.”

Your friends squeal in excitement, you bury your face in your hands, embarrassed.

“I have a hunch he likes you too.” your ears turn red over what hanbin said, thinking the possibility of taerae reciprocating his feelings made you feel a little happy inside.

“Wishing you luck ” Hanbin pats your shoulder..

“Yeah like what are the odds that things could go wrong?”

RIGHT, WHAT ARE THE ODDS?

_________________________________

ATTEMPT 1 : THE OPEN MIC

“thank you for attending our open mic event this month ! I truly appreciate all your support and I’m always amazed by the talented performers that take on the stage. Hope you all get home safe and sound, thank you once again and I hope to see you again in our monthly open mic event once again next month.”

“Good luck.” Hanbin whispers in your year, sending you a fighting gesture as you proceed to look for taerae.

You look around and you spot him behind the cashier, currently counting a bunch of coins in his hand.

“Hey!” You catch the boy’s attention as he looks up and immediately flashes a smile as you near him.

“Hey what’s up? Did you enjoy tonight’s open-mic?”

“Yeah I did! And like always, you did absolutely amazing.” Taerae’s face flushing red after your compliment, you always found it so adorable when he’d get so shy.

“Uh taerae, I just wanted to tell you something.”

“Go ahead. I’m listening.” He places his arm on the counter, resting his chin on his palm, ready to listen to you.

“I don’t know where to begin..so the thing is.”

You take a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for the moment.

“I’ve been keeping on eye on a certain someone for awhile now. Well whatever I shouldn’t be beating around the bush. I like-“

“Taerae! Let’s go!” A blue haired boy comes and wraps his arm around taerae’s neck, ruffling through his hair. You presumed it was the blue-haired roommate taerae always referred to in his stories about his dorm life.

“Later hanbin! Y/n’s trying to tell me something, go on..”

“Oh I’m so sorry I was interrupting something..”

“I like hearing the stories about your roommate, I wanted to meet him.” It just slipped. Forcing yourself to lie was defenitely not something you wanted to do but you felt too awkward to continue confessing.

“That’s me! Hello I am park hanbin, taerae’s amazing roommate that you hear about in his stories.” Hanbin winks at you, and puts his hand out. You shake his hand, pretending like you eagerly wanted to get to know him.

“Oh hey! That’s cool so I always heard really interesting stories about you so I’ve been dying to meet you.” You lied.

“I hear about you too, you seem cool. Hey wanna exchange numbers?”

“Yeah that’d be cool.” You and hanbin pull out your phones and quickly exchange numbers as taerae stands awkwardly behind the counter, witnessing your interaction.

“So uh i guess we can take our leave now? Thanks for coming today y/n and see you tomorrow during class!” Taerae pats hanbin’s shoulders, lowkey pushing him to go.

“Oh of course. See you taerae!” You smile and wave as they slowly take their leave.

“Nice to meet you y/n see you around too!” Hanbin cheekily throws a heart shooting gesture at you.

That was not definitely what you wanted to do.

_________________________________

PERHAPS A LETTER WILL DO?

“I don’t know if I can directly say it to him again.” You contemplated as you drew along your sketchbook. You were currently in ricky and zhanghao’s dorm, making a sketch of taerae as the two seriously focus on finishing their plates for their art classes due the next day, them being typical art students, while ranting about your confession process for the second time.

“Then perhaps you can try saying it to him by writing it in a letter instead?” Ricky suggests as he calmly moves the brush strokes against his canvas, multitasking listening to you while painting for his final’s project in his drawing and painting class.

“Writing him a letter-okay wait ricky I think that’s a great idea, I think i can do that.” you gasp as you turn to him, enlightened by the idea that doesn’t deal with direct confrontation.

“Eh but how are you doing it? Are you going to mail it? You know it’s a hassle and the courier rates are hell here or do you plan on just handing it to him then running away like an idiot. ” Zhanghao asks and you realize you didn’t fully grasp the idea yet. Writing down your feelings through a letter was definitely easier but how were you going to execute it?

“Hyung don’t be too pessimistic, it’s not so bad of an idea.” Ricky defends.

“Okay well..aha! I’ll just give it to him in the cafe after his shift, or I’ll just ask hanbin to slip it in his bag since I’m pretty sure it’d be impossible to slip it in during class.”

“Hmm..actually yeah that’s possible..not bad of an idea.”

“I’m a genius! oh hey guys look at my drawing, what do you think?” You flaunt your poorly drawn portrait of your crush and ricky lets out a huge laugh while zhanghao sends you a mortified look.

“is that taerae?” zhanghao points to your drawing, which was quite literally obvious as you wrote his name in red at the side.

“Yeah..i tried to draw him from memory.” You scratch the back of your head, embarrassed.

“Well as a fine arts student, I can definitely say it’s a drawing. Very abstract!” You send ricky a glare and smack his arm as he lets out a laugh.

“you should be thankful I didn’t pursue arts, picasso’s definitely shitting his pants right now.” You jokingly remarked.

“But I truly can’t draw at all what the hell.”

“It’s good that you know.” Ricky jokingly insults and you shoot him a glare.

You rip that paper from the sketchbook, folding it neatly and putting it to the side.

You open a new page, taking a deep breath before writing away your feelings on the paper. But everytime you wrote, your inner perfectionist fought you, making you restart the letter multiple times.

There were multiple pieces of papers scattered around ricky’s table and you had been stressing over it for over an hour and a half before finally finding the perfect words to say.

eventually you got all worn out from using all your brain power for the past hour as you fell asleep on ricky’s desk.

“psst, y/n you need to go, it’s getting late. “ at around 8pm, zhanghao wakes you up. You were a little groggy but you made sure to stand up and grab the letter as you leave. There were way too many paper in the desk and you had only remembered seeing the paper right next to you, but there were two, you bring the one on the right, assuming it was the letter.

_________________________________

you poured your heart out into the letter and made sure each and every word you said was heartfelt and true. you were about to pack the paper and you immediately hand it to hanbin upon arriving at the cafe in the morning. nervous yet also excited about sending taerae the letter.

and so, you wait for the next day to arrive.

_________________________________

“Hey taerae check your belongings before you leave! Need to make sure you don’t leave anything in the cafe, closing up in a bit.“ hanbin yells from the stock room as he secretly grins to himself. taerae rummages through his backpack, thoroughly checking through his things.

He finds a piece of paper in the front pocket and curiously, of course he opens it. Taerae immediately held his hand to his mouth, shocked over what he saw.

…

You anxiously waited for taerae to come to class as you fiddled with your fingers, afraid of what taerae’s reaction to the letter would be.

You spot taerae coming in and he waves at you from afar. You felt a sense of relief as you see taerae still openly greeting you and going your direction to take the seat next to yours like always.

“Hey. ” Taerae sits down and all of a sudden his face was painted with a hint of worry. You mentally start panicking over what he was going to say. Is he going to reject me? Tell me to get lost? Why does he lowkey looks scared? you thought

Taerae goes to grab something from his bag and you gulp nervously. He takes out a piece of paper and passes it to you.

“Oh taerae…”

“Open it.” He says and your hands shake a little as you open up the folded piece of paper, your heart was beating fast and taerae looked down on his desk, his hands clasped together, he just looked really anxious.

You open it and your eyes widen in shock.

“Oh shit.”

“Right? Isn’t it terrifying?” He points at the paper, hesitant to look at it. It was the poorly drawn portrait of him that you made when you were at hao and ricky’s dorm.

How the hell would you mess this up? And then it hit you, you grabbed the first paper you sw at the desk, assuming what you grabbed would be the letter.

“it’s scary to me because just look at the drawing, are they trying to say something about my appearance? And my name’s in red on the bottom. I thought it was a litte gift but when you think about it, would someone really gift you something like this.” You felt an arrow shoot through your heart. Not only did he just diss your drawing skills but he quickly assumed that this drawing was sent from a secret hater?

“what if they’re just shitty at drawing, you know but they were trying to do a nice little gesture?”

“But the red name, the poor handwriting, it just really feels like a hate message.” You felt your spirit leave your body.

“I don’t know I feel like I have to be on the lookout now, I’m scared someone’s coming after me.”

“YOU SENT HIM THE DRAWING?” ricky bursts out laughing at your failed mail delivery attempt.

“No oh my god my stomach hurts so much I can’t handle it..and the fact he thinks it’s a hate message is so fucking funny.” Ricky held onto stomach from laughing so hard and you glare at him. It was certainly not helping the embarrassment your were experiencing at the moment.

“Okay stop laughing dumbass it’s not funny.”

“Oh it is, it really is..” You smack his arm to make him get a grip and ricky lets out a loud ‘Ow’.

“Now what the fuck am I gonna do! I’m doomed!”

“You can always try again, you know? Maybe next time double check what you’re going to send to make sure you don’t send the love of your life your cursed looking drawings.”

“who send what what now?” Junhyeon quickly plops a seat next to ricky.

“y/n just sent taerae a drawing of him and he..thought it was….a threat..” ricky tries to hold his laugh in between his words.

“makes sense your skills are the worse of the worse i feel like i lose ten years of my life when I see you do any sort of artwork.”

“Oh shut up! Why are you all just constantly after my ass.”

“Anyways did you actually try to confess to him by using a drawing? “ junhyeon asked, visibly confused.

“No no no! I was supposed to leave him a letter. The thing is in the morning, I went to the cafe in the morning with hao to hand hanbin the letter so he could sneak it in his bag. I think i handed him the wrong one..because I was holding on to both of the folded papers and I forgot which was which..”

“Typical y/n moment..” ricky says and you raise your fork at him.

“Yeah okay okay.” ricky raises his hands in the air to defend himself from you potentially striking at him with your fork.

“Guys what do I do..”

“Why don’t you just tell him directly?” Junhyeon asks..

“Last time, I slipped up and lied that I wanted to mee his roommate, knowing damn well I don’t care about his roommate at all.””

“So what were you actually trying to send?“

“Okay I got another idea this time!” Ricky raises his hand you furrow one of your eyebrows at him.

_________________________________

ATTEMPT 2 : LEAVING THE LETTER AT THE LECTURE ROOM

“What time did hanbin say he was gonna come?”

“Hmm in like 30 minutes. He ends his shift at around 4.” Hao tells you. This time you were meant to leave the letter on his desk. Hanbin said he left his things in the lecture room and was going back after his shift to retrieve them.

you of course also made sure to double check to prevent the same mistake from happening again, it would be too much. You were positive that this time, nothing would go wrong and taerae would finally be able to read the words you’ve been meaning to relay.

“Shit shit shit! Guys I hear footsteps, I think it’s him!” Junhyeon yelled and panic immediately seeps into you.

“What? I thought his shift ends at 4, uh whatever guys hide!”

You and hao sneak under one of the tables at the back while junhyeon stood for awhile looking left and right, trying to figure out where to hide while he hears the footsteps getting louder and louder so he just hides behind the door, facing the corner, putting his black hoodie on.

Taerae walks into the room and hums a soft tune as he casually walks on his way onto his designated seat. He finds the paper on top and tilts his head to the side, surprised upon seeing a folded paper again. He scans the whole room with his sight before proceeding to slowly flip the fold.

The door abruptly closes as it emits an eerily creaking sound that echoed across the room. Taerae looks at its direction and notices a tall figure in a black hoodie at the corner of the room. His heart began to beat at an alarmingly fast rate.

“W-who are you?” He stutters out of fear as he slowly approaches the figure. The figure freezes into place, not moving an inch from its position.

“Were you here for me?” He slowly walks over and tries to gently approach the figure, he reaches out and tugs on the person’s arm and they suddenly turn around, instantly head butting taerae before he could take a look into their face, sending taerae into a fainting spell as he collapses onto the floor.

“Junhyeon what the fuck!” You and hao quickly rush over to the now, passed out, taerae laying on the floor.

“You shithead why did you headbutt him!”

“I didn’t want him to know it was me, okay! It was also a reflex i don’t know!”

“Yeah? Are you crazy!? He’s literally unconscious right now!!”

“But he’s not dead right?” Junhyeon slowly approaches his figure placing two fingers over his neck to check if he still had his pulse, he jumps but soon breathes a sigh of relief as he feels his pulse.

“Ah! Oh thank God.”

“Ugh whatever just bring to him the clinic.” Hao quickly goes to carry his left arm and you do the same on his other one.

_________________________________

You sit beside taerae’s peaceful sleeping state, patiently waiting for him to wake up, around 30 minutes has passed and he has yet to wake up.

Hao left early since he still had other senior duties to attend to while junhyeon left out of guilt, refusing to face taerae after giving him a concussion from a headbutt he didn’t mean to cause. He loved taerae too much to face him after what happened today.

You waited by taerae’s side even taking a nap as you waited for him to wake up.

You sat by the bed, with the letter in your hand. You opened it and reread each and every word once again as you look at taerae at the same time. You let out a huge sigh. You felt hesitant once again in confessing to taerae. Perhaps being by his side was enough, right?

But the feelings would always be there and you wouldn’t want to fight it. You sit and stare at his features for awhile, finding yourself enamored by his looks.

“I don’t think you’ll ever forgive me taerae..”

“for what?” you jolted from your seat the moment you hear that deep voice. taerae slowly tries to sit himself up and he squints at you as he rubs his eyes.

“oh my god you’re finally awake.”

“What happened I was at the classroom and I just blacked out, how did you find me..” You panic a little, trying to scramble through your brain to think of a random excuse, surely you weren’t going to tell him you were there to drop a letter where you basically profess your feelings.

“Uh i just stopped by the classroom, I thought I left something in the room.”

“oh okay..did you see anyone else there? like a person with a black hoodie? I think someone hit me in the head.”

Taerae tries to recall the situation, his memory still a little foggy over what happened. He couldn’t quite remember how the person looked as everything just happened so quickly.

“Wait..what if it was the same person who sent me that drawing from before? How would they even know that I was coming back? Because the moment I entered the room, I felt this eerie atmosphere, like someone was waiting for me?” You mentally curse at yourself for pushing through this plan, how the hell were you going to tell him the truth?

“I feel like I have this sort of secret anti? I don’t know I’m kinda scared to be alone now.”

“If you don’t mind, can you walk with me home today? It’s embarrassing but i feel kinda scared to walk hom alone.” You eyes widened in shock but you quickly agree anyways. You just got an offer to spend some extra time with your crush. However a huge part of you felt guilty about what happened.

“I’m sorry I can’t I have to go somewhere. Uh I think i actually need to go right now.” You stood up and taerae looks at you softly, almost like his eyes were pleading for you to not go away.

“Okay I’ll just call your roommate to get you since I really can’t, it’s park hanbin right?”

“yeah, do you have his number? I think I left my belongings at the room I don’t have my phone right now.”

“Ah yes i do! Let me dial him.” You scroll through your contacts searching for his name, quickly dialing him.

“Hey y/n, what’s up!” Hanbin responds almost immediately, greeting you in a cheery tone.

“Hey, so taerae’s at the clinic right now, he got a concussion and sprained his ankle and he kinda can’t get to his dorm alone right now so can you come pick him up right now?”

“Alright I see..”

“Sorry it’s kinda hard to explain right now but taerae’s gonna fill you in on the details later.”

“It’s okay i know what happened, junhyeon told me..”

“Ah r-really, okay anyways just come and get him right now.” You quickly end the call hoping he doesn’t go on and run his mouth on what happened.

“just stay here and wait for hanbin I think I’ll have to go now.”

“Take care! see you in the cafe and next week!” Taerae flashes you his warm smile as he waves at you.

“You too taerae.” You smile back and take your leave..

_________________________________

ATTEMPT HONESTLY CAN’T EVEN KEEP UP ANYMORE : FIGURING IT OUT AGAIN PART SOMETHING OR MAYBE NOT

You and your friends, ricky, junhyeon, zhanghao and sung hanbin and gunwook gathered in the same cafe once again.

_________________________________

“So what’s your new plan?”

“Guys I really don’t know anymore.” You let your head hit the table, feeling so defeated at the moment after thinking about your two failed confession attempts.

“Guys what’s a foolproof way of me confessing where I don’t need to do it on the spot, or one that doesn’t have a chance of leaving him terrified him in any way.”

“Yeah he’s been taerae-fied too many times.” Junhyeon jokes. You roll your eyes at his poor attempt of making a taerae pun.

“The plans have been so terrible.” You sigh.

“Taeraeble you could say..” Ricky softly says while looking down as junhyeon giggled, trying to surpress his laugh.

“Ok I swear if you guys say another one.” You glare at the two.

“Hmm perhaps maybe.” Gunwook leads. After junhyeon blabbered to him about what happened he was also then informed of the fact that you had feelings for taerae too.

“actually never mind I don’t know I thought i was thinking for a moment but it blew away sorry.”

“Junhyeon why did you invite gunwook over too, he’s no help either.” Gunwook turns to you and fakes a loud gasp and you roll your eyes over his dramatic act.

“By the way um sorry to say this late but, taerae just quit his job here yesterday. He also said he’s transferring outside of the school.” Sung hanbin mentions.

“Yeah and he also said he’s transferring next semester, he’s actually moving out next friday.” Sung hanbin adds. Everyone else is shocked over the sudden news. Taerae leaving so suddenly was never in anyone’s bingo cards.

“No! I love taerae too much! Why am I only knowing now that my man is leaving.” Junhyeon dramatically fake cries.

“Oh shit. i just realized.”

“What?”Hao turns to you.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to see taerae much anymore, it’s our last class next week and we don’t talk much outside.”You recalled that the last day of your class with taerae was already next week because after that it would be finals then everything’s done. You weren’t sure if you were going to still be able to talk to taerae knowing how you usually only talked during class.

Maybe a part of you wished for those accidents to happen because deep inside, you were afraid about letting taerae find out about your feelings, afraid that he wouldn’t like you back and you’d lose the friendship you’ve built for a year.

_________________________________

The last monday. the last class you were going to share with taerae ever.

“Hey y/n i want to tell you something.” You look in his direction. You were already had an idea on what he was going to say.

“I’m moving out next week and I quit my part time job at hanbin's cafe. Though maybe you’ve noticed and Hanbin might’ve already told you but yeah I just wanted to tell you.”

“Oh I guess we won’t be seeing each other much anymore..” You say and his eyes widened. He waves his hands and sends you a reassuring look.

“oh we won’t be seeing each other much anymore but I promise I’ll try to keep up with you! um my roommates wanted to throw a farewell party, honestly a little dramatic haha but I wanted to invite you and you friends over. It’s going to be a small one don’t worry.”

“Sure! I’d love to come, I’ll tell my friends too.”

“The last hurrah, you know. Also just so you know,, I genuinely enjoyed getting to know you this year, you were the best person I’ve met this year. I was so happy to have known you this year and I would have totally flunked this class because I might’ve have just ended up sleeping through every lecture haha.”

“Anyways I’ll see you at the party, yeah?” He points at you with that signature smile plastered on his face once again.

“Absolutely.” You smile back.

_________________________________

“I can’t do this anymore! I’ve tried everything like EVERYTHING yet somehow everytime I can’t seem to tell him how I feel.” You cried as you took another shot of soju. Initially, you were alone at the convenience store wanting to buy alone a beer or two to let loose but here you were with almost two empty soju bottles.

“why didn’t a single thing go right..” you bury your face in your hands.

a thought pops into your head and liquid courage pushed you to now film a voicemail on your phone to taerae. now, you were quite wasted and couldn’t see shit but you still pushed yourself.

you drunkenly record yourself professing your love to him, addressing him as you. you laugh to yourself as you finished recording and finally hit the send button.

“maybe this can work ahehe.”

“Y/n?” You hear a young man call out your name. You look up and your vision was too blurry to make out the owner of the voice. it was very familiar and clear to you but you just couldn’t seem to lay a finger on who it could be.

“You!” You stood up from your seat, pointing at the unknown man with your eyes closed. He takes a step back at your sudden move, confused on what to do.

You try to open you eyes, trying to take a look but soon your vision darkens and you pass out. the night going on as a blur.

_________________________________

your eyes flitter open and you feel your head ringing, a painful reminder of what happened last night. you wake up, confused as you look around, the surroundings being all too new.

since when did i have white sheets and a clean ass bedroom?

you slap yourself, trying to figure if it was a dream or not. but it wasn’t.

soon you hear a knock on the door on the far left and taerae enters, carrying a glass of tea and painkillers on a tray.

“oh you’re awake, anyways here take these for your hangover. finish the cup of tea and if your headache feels really unbearable, take a tylenol. anyways how are you feeling?” he hands the tray to you and he sits down by you.

“Honestly woke up with a terrible headache. Is this your place?I’m so sorry..” You ask.

“Yes but don’t worry about it, I saw you pass out last night and I didn’t want to leave you there.” he says and sends a reassuring smile your way. you felt your heart skip a beat for a second.

“anyways stay as long as you need! take care of yourself and rest. if you need water or anything, just call me! okay?” he says as he proceeds to leave the room.

you feel your phone vibrate next to you and you are shocked upon what you see when you receive a notification from park hanbin.

phanbin: let’s talk about this at the dorm party ;)

well, shit.

. Taerae invited the whole friend group (since he was friends with all of you too anyways) and the other dorm mates to come over. He requested it to not be so grand since he wanted it to be a simple farewell.

It was probably the last day you were ever going to see him and it kinda killed you inside knowing not a single attempt of your confessions worked and the words you’ve been trying to relay are going to be left unspoken. Other than that, you had also discovered that you had sent a voicemail to park hanbin, perhaps leading him on. You also couldn’t bear to see taerae after your past encounter. This day, you were definitely more than nervous to come.

You, ricky, sung hanbin and zhanghao decided to go the dorm together. When you arrive, you finally meet the other dormmates taerae had always talked about in his stories.

“Hi! I’m woongki, Nice to meet you. Come in.” The brown haired boy cheerfully greeted the four of you as soon as you guys came in as he lead you guys to sit on the couch. Another taller, black-haired boy goes next to him and introduces himself.

“Hey I’m seowon! Another roommate and woongki’s roommate.”

“I see, it makes so much sense that you’re roommates, you both are very smiley haha.” you say, seeing how cheery and friendly the two are in welcoming the both of you.

In the mean time, you got to chat with woongki and seowon. Park hanbin and taerae were still getting food and drinks.

From talking to them, you were also able to catch some stories and new facts about taerae. To your surprise, they reveal how he actually goes around the dorm wearing horrendous clothing pieces, wearing the same pair of red pants almost every day like it was the only pair of pants he owned. You also then learn about how taerae used to sing a lot in church growing up. His guitar was his pride and often, he would play and sing for them if ever anyone wanted him to. He could just sing on the spot if you asked him to.

The more you heard about him, the more endearing he was to you. It certainly didn’t help with making your feelings go away or having to deal with not seeing him anymore.

“Sorry we took long but we’re here!” Park hanbin and taerae finally arrived, with all their hands full with bags filled with snacks, chicken and beer.

For the night, you guys plan to play a few games then wrap up the night with a movie marathon afterwards.

The first game you guys decided to play was uno. It was fun, a lot of oohs and a lot of cheating with some players hiding specific cards. (yeah it was on junhyeon and ricky). Taerae on the other hand, often when he lost he’d go look over your cards and coach you, and despite taerae being the first one to lose almost all the time, he managed to make you win every time.

It was followed by a game of charades. It was even more chaotic than playing uno.

Then lastly, truth or dare.

The dares were pretty mild like for example, taking their shirt off for the whole game, having to eating a tablespoon of sugar or just doing a specific dance.

And for some reason, nobody chose truth because they were just pretty lame questions like did you ever fail a test? Or did you ever have your first kiss blablabla. the dares were more entertaining.

“Oooh y/n’s the chosen one!” Everyone cheered.

“So, what’s your choice, is it a truth or a dare?”

“I’ll choose truth.”

“Alright, let me think do you like anyone in the room?” Hanbin smirks, he was definitely planning on something.

“Of course I like everyone in the room, what are you implying.” You laugh with a hint of nervousness, trying to play off the question.

“No I mean, do you like like anyone, romantically?” He states, now you were sure park hanbin might have caught on and he defended knows.

“Be honest..”

You stop and take a small gulp as everyone’s eyes were all glued onto you in anticipation.

“Yeah..” you softly say and oohs were throwed. Your friends laugh and try to act all shocked as if they didn’t know you did and who it was.

“Woah really.” Park hanbin brings one of his hands to a mouth as he nods his head, seemingly not so shocked either.

“Who?”

“Come on it’s over it’s supposed to be one question.”

“We need to know!”

“Hanbin stop..they’re obviously not comfortable sharing especially in this setting so just stop.” Taerae sternly says making the whole room go silent.

“Well moving on then! Why don’t we start the movie marathon, yeah?” Everyone stands up from the ground and proceeds to lay on the couch. And chairs laying around.

You look in taerae’s direction and he gives you a small smile.

Buzz. Your phone rang.

You look over and recieve a text from park hanbin, asking you to meet up at his bedroom to discuss something. He looks at you and directs to go up with his eyes.

You roll your eyes but you get up anyways as you go upstairs, hanbin following along.

Taerae notices the two of you sneaking upstairs. He was curious about what you two were up to.

“Aw man there’s no more popcorn.” Junhyeon complains, his voice snapping taerae from his thoughts.

“Okay what now?”

“i know about it.”

“About how you feel.”

“About what?” You furrow one of your eyebrows as hanbin takes a pause, his lips pursed as he looks at the ground.

“I know you like me.” You pause there for a moment, your brain trying to function as for this time you had misled the wrong boy into thinking that you like him.

“Oh uh about it..”

“It’s fine you don’t have to deny it but y/n I’m sorry I don’t like you in that way though but you know maybe I could give you a chance and get to know you more first?” He shyly takes a step closer to you, moving his face closer to yours.

“Uh Hanbin.” You freeze on the spot, not knowing what to do or what to say.

“It’s not- like I don-“

“It’s okay you don’t have to deny it, look I acknowledge your feelin-“ He moves his face closer to yours to look into your eyes.

All of a sudden the door next to the two of you creaks open, revealing taerae standing there with his mouth wide open.

“Sorry to interrupt you guys but uh I just wanted to say I’m going to sleep now since I’m leaving early tomorrow.” Taerae awkwardly smiles and takes his leaves. You panic, assuming he probably overheard most of the conversation which might have misled him to thinking you actually had a crush on park hanbin.

You mentally curse at yourself as you watch taerae turn his back and turn away.

“Now going back..”

You quickly shut the door, take a deep breath and take a hold of hanbin’s shoulders. Well you hd to clear it up, it’s now or never.

“I don’t like you. I don’t have any feelings for you. I am not interested at you.” You look up at him and gave him a straight face. He tilts his head, knitting his eyebrows in confusion.

“Huh?Then why did you send me that voicemail?”

“Man this is so embarrassing.”You look at the ground in shame, not wanting to open the conversation over the embarrassing voicemail.

“I accidentally sent it to you..it was meant for someone else.” You facepalm.

“I was drunk and I wasn’t thinking clearly! It was really stupid of me. I just sent it to you thinking it was..someone else plus I was drunk! I my vision was all blurry too i’m sorry.” You continued, Hanbin lets out an oh as he scratches his head, embarrassed and confused.

“Wait then who was it for?”

“About that..”

“Tell me who? Who is it?” He whines as he playfully pokes your arm, curious as to who the lucky boy may be. You certainly didn’t want to tell the boy knowing he was taerae’s best friend and he might blabber about it to him.

“Secret.”

“Awwww come on….wait..Ha! Nevermind don’t tell me I know.” Hanbin lets out a light laugh, taking a step closer to you.

“Your crush on taerae is so painfully obvious.”he whispered. You freeze on the spot. He takes a step back and continues giggling to himself.

“I mean I could feel it before but I pushed it off because I thought you liked me..but it all makes more sense now. you, see taerae at the cafe everyday, you light up when he talks to you, you always stare at him, can you also not make that obvious? And lastly I can easily sense that the way you act around him is very different from everyone else.”

“Like you are in love with him.” He crosses his arms and he knew he was right.

“Pfft no.”

“Oh yeah you are.”

“But he’s moving away anyways so it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Aw sorry about that..”

“And from what happened earlier..he probably thinks I like you.”

“I’m so sorry about that, you know what, I’ll clear it up to him-“

“No you don’t have to, he’s leaving and I don’t want to cause anything. and it’s my fault really! I was the one who carelessly sent that voicemail, I’m sorry for leading you on too. So anyways, I think I might just go leave now.” You flash hanbin a smile to reassure him before leaving. Hanbin grabs your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“I’m also sorry about earlier too by the way, y/n. Honestly-“

“Hanbin I’m sorry for cutting you off again but honestly I think I need to go now. I just don’t want taerae to know, and I’m not sure if we’ll keep up when he leaves so I iust hope we stay as friends, so we don’t leave at an awkward note. Anyways thank you and sorry hanbin but I gotta go now.” He loosens his grip on your wrist and pats your shoulder.

“Take care.”

Here you are, in the comfort of hanbin’s care sipping on a glass of iced coffee, staring out the window. Last night, you left the party early and you weren’t able to bid taerae a proper goodbye in person.

you open your phone, and stare at you text messages with taerae, contemplating on whether you wanted to write him a long goodbye message or to simply tell him good luck and take care.

“for how long are you going to stare at your phone.” hanbin gets you from your out-of-zone state.

“hanbin, I don’t know how to say goodbye. honestly I feel miserable. I hate that he’s leaving and I wasn’t even able to tell him how I feel.” you bury your face into yoir hands. hanbin takes the seat next to you and rubs your back. the boy you loved was leaving and he never even got the chance to know how you truly felt.

as if the heavens heard your cries, you felt your phone vibrate and you received a notification of a text message from park hanbin.

phanbin: y/n go run to taerae right now. he’s leaving soon but hey, you deserve to be able to tell him how you feel properly and now may be the perfect time. I also cleared up everything that happened last night lol so dw. anyways do this text me back and go run to him NOWWW!!!!!! he’s still in front of our dorm <3

You look at hanbun and he gives you a reassuring nod as an approval.

“Go now!!!” he yells good luck to you as you proceed to rush out of the cafe, running towards the direction of his dorm. You ran and ran, your feet moving at a full speed like you were at a marathon. a rush of adrenaline filled you and this time, you were motivated than ever to tell him how you truly feel.

you were just one block away from the dorm and soon, you spot a car parked in front of the dorm with a handful of boxes outside. you proceed to go there but you couldn’t see taerae around. you’re not too late, his boxes are here so he’s somewhere.

you take a deep breath first, resting your hands on your knees first from all the running. you forgot that you weren’t an athlete and your lack of exercise was getting right back at you.

you receive another text mess from park hanbin.

park hanbin:I I’m sorry i know you’re probably sprinting right now but he’s at the convenience store so you might have to do a little more running. his dumbass forgot to buy a few things. anyways good luck y/n! you got this.” he sends you a thumbs up emoji.

you run and run again and you curse under your breath, realizing how far the convenience store is. your legs were slowly getting wobbly and you onew your lack of physical activity was bound to get you someday but you hoped it wouldn’t be right now.

you just stop running and start walking instead. as you near the store, you spot the brown-haired young man outside, sitting on a table outside with his back facing you.

you take a deep breath before tapping his shoulder. he turns around and you thank the heavens that there was no plot twist of this being a non-taerae or else you were going to absolutely throw a fit.

“hey taerae! I needed to tell you something before you go and I wanted to give you a proper goodbye in person since I wasn’t able to last night.” you say and the boy stands up, flashing you a grin as he had gimbap in his mouth. he raises his hand and you were a little confused as to what he meant by that.

“should I say what I need to say or wait for you to finish?” he swallows his food down before speaking up.

“ok sorry you can go on now.” he lightly chuckles and you laugh a little.

you take a huge gulp, taking a look at the ground before looking straight at him right in the eye. he eagerly listens, giving you a reassuring look. it’s finally happening.

“taerae I have been dying to tell you this for a long time now honestly and although I don’t think now is the perfect time, I just wanted to get this off my chest before you go cause I know I would regret it if I didn’t tell you sooner.” you take a pause and he gives you another nod, a way of telling you he was still listening.

so here it goes.

“I li-“

you were soon cut off by the sound of the door opening as a man calls out to taerae“taerae hyung! Did you kn- y/n?” you look behind you and you spot junhyeon, holding a full meal of burgers and fries and a cup of come on a tray in his hands.

“junhyeon what the hell are you doing here?”

“I was helping taerae moving out then he went here to buy things then we just decided to eat here.” he says, standing there, a little confused. he quickly scans the situation between you and then it finally hit him.

“ah I believe I interrupted something here, sorry I will just eat inside.”

the boy quickly rushes back inside.

you turn to taerae again. “anyways, sorry for the little commotion there. anyways as I was saying, taerae-junhyeon what the actual fuck sit somewhere else.” junhyeon sat in front of the window directly facing the both of you. you motion to the boy to move the other way and he rolls his eyes before taking a seat somewhere else.

“oh god I hope it’s the last of him. I swear if anything goes wrong again-“

all of the sudden, the rain decides to twist the odds and rain on your parade. you grab taerae’s hand, about to take him inside but he firmly holds onto your hand, telling you to stay.

“taerae it’s raining, you’ll get sick, we have to get in i’ll just tell you inside.”

“no tell me right here, right now. you have been wanting to tell me for a long time and I know you want to say it already.” you felt a hint of seriousness in his tone.

“are you serious?well fine It’s so weird to say it right now but okay..taerae, i..” He nods, the words starting to get hesitant to leave your mouth. you take a deep breath and you finally mustered up the courage.

“taerae I like you. no, actually I’m in love with you. It’s embarrassing but It’s true and I can’t fight it anymore. I loved getting to know you and from the moment i first laid my eyes on you and heard your sweet voice back in that open mic, I fell in love. I was so lucky to be able to get to know you more too. you are the sweetest, kindest and most wonderful person I’ve ever met. It’s okay if you don’t like me back. I just want to say that I love and appreciate every moment I got to spend with you in the past year..it was so lovely to have known you taerae.” unexpectedly he lets out a light laugh, his big signature smile painted on his face. he gently takes both of your hands in his.

“I love you too, y/n. in fact, I’ve always known.” you felt like your ears betrayed you at the last part. what does he mean he always knew?

“back at the clinic, I saw the letter next to you while you slept. it had the words ‘to taerae’ written on it so I just opened it. I read each and every word you wrote and took it to heart. I was so happy to know you felt the same..but when you woke up, you hid the letter and I iust felt that you were still not ready to tell me so I didn’t open a convo about it. hanbin told me about everything and cleared everything up, actually both hanbins did, sung and park haha.” you both laugh.

“well..what now? you’re leaving now so what will be then? we’ll barely see each other now that we’re not in the same uni.”

“actually about that, I’m still in the same uni, I’m only moving dorms..”

“what?” the whole dramatic mood you had turned upside down. you playfully smack taerae’s arm, bursting into tears. he didn’t expect to see you cry but he just laughs and brings you into a hug.

“I forgot to specify to you guys that I was not transferring schools and only dorms and that just made me realize why everyone was dramatic with everything. please don’t cry..”

“that’s really mean taerae, I was actually so upset that you were leaving so I was miserable for nothing.” your bury your face into his chest, pulling him tighter and taerae began to laugh.

he slowly lets go and cups your face, breaking into a smile and you feel the whole world brighten as you look into his eyes again. he stares at your lips and your faces inch closer together.

“may I?” he asks and you nod your head before he gently brings your face closer to his with his finger and his arms snake around your waist. you felt the whole world stop as you melt into his touch. your lips seemingly shaped for one another.

slowly, he pulls away and breaks into a huge smile.

“finally! I’ve been waiting for this one.” you hear junhyeon’s screams from inside the store and you simply roll your eyes back at him, you and taerae laughing over his reaction.

you turn to look back at taerae.

“I really love you and I’m glad you’re finally mine.” you giggle as you wrap your arms around his neck, bringing his face close enough for you noses to touch.

and finally, the odds were in your favor.

a/n and you reached the end! hope you enjoyed reading it. this has been sitting in my drafts for a month, but missing taerae and the new kcon behind drove me to finish this story! I also have a love-hate relationship with this which is why it took pretty long to write HAIAHSHSB sorry for some mistakes in the capatalization of names and grammar that I may have overlooked. But anyways feel free to leave feedback! I would love to hear your honest thoughts on this :>>>

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