#so i can get the paper & pen in there. the books are small and close easily
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. 𝐏𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐀𝐑 (𝐎𝐓𝟖)
𝖻𝖾𝗀𝗀𝗂𝗇’ 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗉𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗋,𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍’𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆,𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝑝𝑜𝑝𝑢𝑙𝑎𝑟.
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ׂ ִ 𝐗𝐈𝐗. 𝖶𝖧𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖨𝖭, 𝖸𝖮𝖴 𝖬𝖠𝖪𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖬 𝖥𝖠𝖫𝖫 𝖥𝖮𝖱 𝖸𝖮𝖴.. 𝖲𝖮𝖬𝖤𝖶𝖠𝖸, 𝖲𝖮𝖬𝖤𝖧𝖮𝖶. • 𝐩. 𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗓 𝗑 𝓇𝑖𝑐ℎ 𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙 /𝑝𝑜𝑝𝑢𝑙𝑎𝑟 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝐠. 𝑠𝟤𝑙.𝑓𝘳𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠,𝑠𝑢𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝐰. 𝗉𝗁𝗒𝗌𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁,𝗃𝗈𝗄𝖾𝗌.𝑒𝑡𝑐.
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𝐐. 김홍중
working with HONGJOONG on your latest project had been a memorable experience for you both. the shared laughs, the tension-y moments, and even the “accidental” flirting. you could tell that he was attracted to you, but he was good at trying to hide it. he never wanted to admit how nervous you made him or how his heart would skip a beat whenever you leaned in close to him. you had a certain feel, a certain aura, that he just couldn’t resist.
“well, what do you think of this one? maddox and i tweaked some of the chords to give it a bossy kind of vibe.” joong explained, discussing the instrumental of your new song as you both sat in his studio.
you hummed, pretending to think for a moment. in reality, you weren’t really thinking about your songs then. you just couldn’t keep your eyes off of hongjoong.
he glanced over at you when you still hadn’t given him an answer.
“y/n?”
“it doesn’t really matter to me, just as long as you’re the one producing.” you said suddenly, making hongjoong’s eyes widen. his reaction made you chuckle a bit, seeing his ears turn a bright shade of red.
“i.. um, well,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
you moved your chair a bit closer to his, leaning in like you were waiting for a response. his breath hitched as he avoided your gaze, going back to looking at the computer.
“you are the one producing, right?”
“y..yeah…” he mumbled, fidgeting with his keyboard.
“good.” you smiled.
the next few minutes were silent but anything but normal. hongjoong’s nerves were sky-high as you both continued to discuss the process of your songs.
“can we just talk about the rest of the tracks over dinner? i’m getting a bit hungry,” you said, placing a hand on your stomach.
“really? i could order something—“ joong began, grabbing his phone.
“nah, it’s okay. my treat.” you flashed another smile, adding in a small wink before getting up to grab your coat.
𝐐. 박성화
SEONGHWA did not expect you to show up when his professor told him he’d be tutoring a student. he’d never held a conversation with you, and he didn’t want to.
you were known around the whole school and for whatever reason, everyone loved and adored you. you weren’t one of those arrogant, annoying, popular girls. you just liked to have fun.
you walk into your tutoring session with a confident stride, maybe a little too casually for seonghwa’s comfort. he silently cursed himself for ever agreeing to give tutoring lessons in the first place.
“so, are you the genius that’s fixing my grades, or—?” you ask, taking a seat next to him while adjusting your blouse.
he shifted in his seat, clearing his throat and avoiding your gaze, “uh, i guess.”
you hummed in response, placing your books on the table.
seonghwa did the same, placing his pens beside your things and taking out some paper.
“alright,” he sighs, putting his glasses on, which seemed to make him even more attractive.
“let’s start with something easy. if an object is dropped from a height of 50 meters, how long does it take to hit the ground? assume gravity is 9.8 m/s².” he says, pointing at your physics notes.
“um, about 3.19 seconds,” you glance at him and back a your writing.
he blinked for a moment, shocked that you would even know that off the top of your head.
“did you.. just guess that?”
“no, i used the formula.” you said casually.
brains and beauty? he was done for.
he leaned forward, pointing at the next problem set. “let’s try momentum. if i roll a 2kg ball at 5 m/s and it collides with a stationary 3 kg ball, how do you find the final velocity after impact?”
you adjusted yourself in your seat, moving closer to him to get a better look at the problem. it surprised him a bit, but he didn’t back away. the scent of your perfume almost hypnotizing him.
“well, you would have to use the conservation of momentum formula.”
he raised an eyebrow. “go on.”
you grabbed the pen from his fingers before quickly scribbling the problem down. hwa watches your handwriting, but then realizes how close you had gotten.
“so,” you whisper, looking up at him while batting your eyes slowly, “do i pass?”
“clearly you don’t need any tutoring,” he mumbled, glancing down at your lips for a moment.
you laughed, “well.. I wouldn’t say that. c’mon, ask me another question.”
“no, i think you know enough already.”
“okay, well at least let me buy you coffee? for tutoring me for ‘nothing’.” you placed your hand on his arm, feeling it tense up at the contact.
he looked at you through his frames, not wanting to say no to the slight pout on your face.
he sighed, “fine.”
𝐐. 정윤호
“i’m just saying, man. she’s not like anyone you’ve ever met.”
YUNHO raises an eyebrow as he helps wooyoung unload the bags from his trunk. “you’ve said that at least 3 times, woo. what’s so special about her?”
wooyoung smirks, grabbing the black duffel bag. “she’s rich.”
“so?” yunho scoffs, closing the trunk.
“she’s also effortlessly cool, ridiculously hot, and kind of a menace,” wooyoung lists, counting on his fingers. “but in a funny way. you’ll see.
“so.. you, but with a loaded bank account?”
before wooyoung could respond, a sleek white sedan pulled up next to the villa that you all would be staying in for the next week and a half.
you stepped out of the driver’s side, shades on and dressed as if you walked off of a high-end magazine shoot. knowing you, you probably were.
you smiled in wooyoung’s direction, jogging up to him to jump in his arms. he laughed, picking you up in his arms, hugging you back just as tightly.
yunho stood next to you both, looking around, confused.
wooyoung put you down before he introduced you to yunho.
“yunho, this is my gorgeous, cool, friend i was speaking to you about earlier.” he grinned.
you rolled your eyes at woo before turning to yunho, extending your hand. he took it, smiling softly.
“you’re cute.” you said, smiling innocently. yunho almost choked, causing wooyoung to cackle at him.
you walked away from the two, to grab your bags and head into the villa.
yunho stood there for a moment while wooyoung grabbed his things to head inside behind you.
“this is gonna be an interesting trip for you, brother.”
later in the evening, the rest of your friends arrived at your vacation home and you all decided to start the break off strong.
“we’re going out tonight, no excuses.” wooyoung clasped his hands together, grinning as he looked around at your friends. no one had finished unpacking but he could care less.
“didn’t realize we’d be partying before getting groceries.” yunho said, leaning back against the couch with his arms crossed.
wooyoung scoffed, waving him off.
before either of them could finish their thoughts, you came downstairs, heels in hand.
“can someone help me buckle these? they’re killing me,” you say, plopping on the couch next to yunho.
“sure,” he said, extending his arm, taking the heels from your hands. you looked over at him, almost surprised that he offered his help.
you lifted your leg, placing it on his lap so that he could slip the shoe onto your foot. his hand wrapped around your ankle, gently holding it in place as he strapped your shoe on.
“thanks,” you flashed a smile at him, making him look away from your gaze, mumbling a ‘no problem’.
𝐐. 강여상
as you walked into the cafe, you scanned the room for YEOSANG. it’s been years since you two last saw each other and it’s an unfamiliar feeling—like catching up with someone who’s both familiar and distant. you find him sitting in the back, fiddling with the edge of his cup. his posture is relaxed, but you can tell he’s in his own little world.
“hey,” you greet softly, smiling down at him. he looks up, startled for a moment before smiling back and standing up to hug you.
he wrapped his arms around you and all of the memories came rushing back. you still smelled like home, just a little more expensive now.
“hey, how are you?” he asked as you both settled down into your seats.
“i’m good. you?” you ask, placing a hand on his.
his gaze fell to where your hand was, as he bit his lip before responding, “uh, good, i guess. nothing.. nothing special.”
“how’s the boss life treating you?”
“eh, it’s nothing special either.” you shrug.
yeosang scoffed. “are you kidding? you’ve got everything you wanted. probably married, too.”
“hm, not exactly.” your eyes flickered to his, seeing him blink in confusion.
“you’re not married?”
“well, no. but i’m not talking about that, silly” you said chuckling, squeezing his hand gently. he definitely didn’t know what you were referring to, but you weren’t going to tell him straight up.
“i’ve missed you, y’know. you’re the only thing that’s missing.”
yeosang blinked again. you wanted him back in your life? you two were only ever childhood friends but you left when you turned 19 to turn to the city life, eventually becoming a boss in your own company. why would you ever want anything to do with him when you had all of that?
“come back to the city with me.” you said, snapping him out of his thoughts.
“m-me? i barely even have enough to pay off my tuition, i don’t know if i can—“
“you’ll live with me. and you can have a position at the company, it’s already arranged.”
yeosang stared at you in shock. he didn’t know what to say. he wasn’t going to refuse, of course, but he didn’t expect you to do that for him.
“uh, sure, of course. but why?” he asked:
“i think you know why.”
𝐐. 최산
SAN noticed you the moment you stepped out onto the runway. the same way he notices you now.
cameras flash a celebrities, designers, and industry designers move through the grand venue, drinks in hand, exchanging air kisses and quiet deals over laughter.
it was another successful show in paris— san could tell by the way people were talking, voices buzzing with admiration over the designer’s latest collection.
models emerge from backstage, their post-show glow still fresh, moving seamlessly into the crowd. you’re among them, slipping into the space as if you belong there— because you do.
even after the runway, there’s something captivating about you and the way you move. you’re effortless, smooth confidence and lingering adrenaline still riding the high of the show.
“damn,” wooyoung muttered next to him.
san didn’t respond right away, too distracted by the way you glance over at him, your eyes meeting his.
then, just as smoothly, you break eye contact and turn back to your conversation, giggling up a storm with your colleagues.
he’s still watching you, when you finally move to start conversation elsewhere. you’re not in a rush, stopping here and there to exchange words with other designers, photographers, and fellow models.
san tells himself that he’s not staring, but wooyoung chuckling next to him says otherwise.
“you just gonna stand there, or—?”
but before he could finish, you made your way past them. not close enough to be obvious, but close enough that san catches the faint scent of your fragrance. rich, but sweet.
your gaze flickers to his for a split second, the corners of your mouth turning up slightly in a gentle smile.
and just as quickly, as you’d came, you were gone.
san exhaled sharply, letting out breath he didn’t know he was holding.
but later on, it doesn’t take long for him to be introduced to you.
as he’s speaking with another artist, the designer of the show politely interrupts, approaching him with a smile.
“san, there’s someone i’d like you to meet!” she says as she calls you over.
you walked over to where they stood, catching san’s gaze once more.
“y/n, this is choi san from ateez, san, this is—“
“i know,” he says, extending his hand. you smile, your fingers slipping into his with ease. your scent hit him again, and he could see the small details of your makeup, the subtle glow on your face and glitter that decorated your collarbone.
“i really think you two would be amazing together in a campaign. y/n, have you considered working with any idols?” the designer beamed.
you hum in amusement, “it depends. can idols keep up, mr. choi?”
“i guess you’ll have to find out for yourself.” he chuckled.
𝐐. 송민기
MINGI had almost regretted taking the job for the first few hours. his boss had sent him to watch over his daughter while he was away and to make sure she was safe from any hounding press people or insufferable fans.
the daughter that happened to be you. you were alluring to mingi, but absolutely irritating.
“do you have to follow me around like that?” you asked as you walked out of the dressing room of the boutique.
“unfortunately.”
“even to the dressing room?” you glanced back at him, smirking.
“outside of the dressing room.” he said flatly.
you hummed in response, “so you do have boundaries.”
he didn’t say anything, nearly resisting the urge to roll his eyes.
but after you spend nearly an hour in the boutique and trying (but failing) to lose mingi in the boutique, you accept that he’s impossible to shake, so you do what you do best and annoy him.
while you’re eyeing a diamond bracelet, you sneak a glance at him in the glass. he wore his usual unimpressed expression, dressed in all black with his hands tucked behind him.
“you’re good at this, mingi.” your voice was light and teasing.
“at what?”
“following me around and keeping me in line.. think you’d follow me if i ran off to italy for the weekend?”
“if it’s in my contract.”
you let out a loud sigh, “so devoted to your job, it’s kind of endearing.”
“it’s my job.” he repeated, clearly irritated by your constant teasing.
you turn back to the jewelry, “shame. i was gonna say you’d make a great boyfriend.”
that’s what got him. it was barely a reaction— but just a small, sharp inhale, the kind most people wouldn’t catch. and when you glance up, there’s the faintest bit of amusement in his face.
“did i say something wrong?” you turn around to blink your eyes up at him innocently. he just looks you up and down, barely able to conjure up a response.
𝐐. 정우영
you and WOOYOUNG have been friends for a while so his usual flirtatious comments don’t surprise you anymore. you had always made it clear that you weren’t interested, but he couldn’t help himself. he was head over heels for you.
you were at a small get together at a friend’s house, chatting with some others before wooyoung came up to you, casually draping an arm around you.
“look at you,” he says with a grin, his breath warm against your ear.
you lean away from him, rolling your eyes before take a small sip of your drink. “you say that every time we see each other, woo, it’s getting old.”
he raises his eyebrows, “getting old? i’m just being honest, sweetheart. i like what i see.”
you scoff before turning away from him.
“why’re you playing hard to get? this popularity thing is really changing you, y/n.”
you whip your head around, “i’m not playing hard to get, wooyoung, i simply said i’m not interested.”
but wooyoung wasn’t taking that for an answer. if anything, your stubbornness only made him want you more. before you became so independent and began working for yourself, you and him were inseparable. so close that people thought you were dating at one point.
wooyoung knew you felt the same way about him, but for some reason, things changed over time. you both grew apart. and it wasn’t one of those things where people grow apart because it’s normal, it was something else. something that wooyoung couldn’t figure out.
“that wouldn’t have been your answer if i asked you 6 years ago.” he said flatly, watching as your expression changed.
you swallowed hard, not wanting to say anything.
“call me when you wanna give up the cold girl act.” he mumbled before standing up to leave.
𝐐. 최종호
seeing you work with other colleagues in the meeting was infuriating to JONGHO. he wasn’t sure why but it annoyed him. you and him had a thing going on—you weren’t dating, but he was heavily attracted to you. as were you. you had grown closer to each other each time your companies met up in the conference room.
“you seem tense, jong.” you murmur, coming to stand behind him in his office as he looked out at the window displaying the busy city. you brought a hand up to rest on his back, small gesture but sent shivers up his spine.
he hummed, not moving from his place.
“can i ask why?”
he exhaled, “i’m tired of seeing you with everyone else and not me.”
“oh?” you smirked, amused by his straightforwardness.
he turned around, looking down at you before pulling you in closely.
“don’t act like that,” he said, flatly.
“like what?”
“like you don’t know what’s going on.”
you looked away for a moment, biting back a smile. jongho let you go, walking over to his desk to settle in his chair, leaning back and closing his eyes.
“you make me feel like i’m insane or something.” he mumbled.
“sorry, boss.” you chuckle, making him groan in irritation. you knew how jongho felt but it was entertaining to see him get so worked up any time your attention wasn’t on him for more than a minute.
💌 : apologies if this seems short or rushed, I’ve been working on this same fic for so long and it’s now almost 4 am……. if i made it any longer I would’ve went insane so pls js take it how it is.
#© 𝐷𝑂𝐿𝐿𝐸𝑅𝐼𝑁#ateez#ateez x reader#ateez scenarios#ateez hongjoong#ateez seonghwa#ateez yunho#ateez yeosang#ateez san#ateez mingi#ateez wooyoung#ateez jongho#ateez fluff#ateez fanfic#ateez fic#ateez imagines#ateez soft hours
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ৎ⸝⸝⠀COCKWARMING ! —
#pairing : lucifer, alastor, vox, valentino, x gn reader. #cw : 18+ content, mdni. unprotected sex. edging. office sex. public sex. sub/power sub reader. no mentions of specific anatomy. vox is in an online meeting for work. touch starved lucifer. val blowing his smoke on you for fun. non proofread because it's six in the fuckin morning and I have not slept a wink. #summary : in which they keep themselves buried deep inside of you while being busied by other stuff. #note : save me, I've been writing nothing but hazbin smut lately. i should really start working on other shows.. alastor's a bit shorter than the others, can't really think of a solid idea for him and I wanted to get this out as soon as possible
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ʚ LUCIFER .
lucifer whines when you force him to focus on his unfinished work once again. he has been going back and forth from attempting to thrust into you, but you always found a way to press him down in his place firmly. he had some unfinished work that he left sitting in his office for almost a week now, and it irritated you. that's when you offered to cockwarm him while he worked, get him to finally get his hands on those unfinished works.
being absolutely touch starved, lucifer agreed without hesitation unaware of how miserable and impatient this will make him. his hand remain on his working desk, occasionally scribbling some words and a signature on the paper filled with printed words. he does his best to resist the urge to finally thrust into you, worried that you'd leave him unsatisfied if he doesn't do as he's told.
but there's a limit to how much he can contain himself, especially when he has you sitting on his lap with his cock stuffing you to the brim, when you'd tease him so often by clenching around him or moving your hips ever so slightly. lucifer whines every time, the hand that's placed on your hip squeezing on your flesh desperately.
"can i please.. just finish this up later?" his voice muffled from nuzzling his face into your shoulder, eyes closed shut to focus on the warmth engulfing his throbbing member. you let out a small chuckle, baring your teeth into his neck to draw out those pretty moans of his; his cock leaks pathetically inside of you.
"no can do, luci. you're not going to get whatever you want until you finish up." you pull away and tilt your head slightly, pressing a soft kiss onto his jaw while giving a quick glance at the papers sprawled across his desk. he's only halfway done with them. "you're doing pretty well, no? you're halfway done."
lucifer groans, annoyed as he picks up the pen from the desk again while reading through the papers. this time, you decide to tease him a little more instead of staying still. you connect your lips with his exposed neck, sucking on the sensitive skin as your hips slowly grind against his. you hear his breath hitch, his knuckles turning white from how hard he's gripping you.
your name spills out from his lips breathlessly, following with a whimper that you love so much. you carry on with your actions, dark marks gradually bloom all over his skin like breathtaking flowers. lucifer shifts to lay his forehead on your shoulder, shuddering from pleasure; you tug on his soft hair, firm enough to lift his head up from your shoulder.
"stay focused, luci. remember what's waiting for you to finish your work."
ʚ ALASTOR .
"oh, what a twist!" alastor exclaims with his eyes glued to the book he's reading, chuckling like you're not clenching down on his cock out of desperation. your eyes are teary as you turn to peek at the page he's on, frustration brewing in your chest. upon noticing your reaction, alastor laughs while moving his hand to cup your face, leaning in with a grin. "don't you agree, my dear?"
you groan, parting your lips further enough to drop his thumb into your mouth, biting down on it. alastor mutters a small "fiesty" before buckling up his hips, watching your eyes widen from the sudden pleasure that shoots up your veins. his arm tightens around your waist to stop you from squirming around excessively.
"put.. the fuckin' book down, a-alastor.." your nails dig into his shoulder through the fabric of his shirt, the back of your other hand hovering over your mouth with a frown on your face. alastor smiles in response, holding the book between the both of you now that there's a gap.
"why, it has only gotten interesting! patience is key, darling."
"it has been almost a whole fucking hour, alast-" your words get cut off by yet another harsh thrust of his hips, an uncontrollable moan slipping off your tongue. a low, barely audible grunt could be heard coming from alastor because of how you're squeezing around him like your life depends on it.
slowly, he places the book down, pushing two digits into your mouth as his sharp nails graze past your gums. your tongue swirls around them, gaze fixated on his that seems to be mocking your desperation. you grind your hips, wanting to feel more of that sensitive spot in you being stimulated by his tip brushing against it. alastor grunts every time you tighten around him, the feeling making his skin jump and his eyes close shut from the pleasure he receives.
you reach for the book to toss it aside, not allowing him any chance to get it back and return to what he was previously putting you through. he laughs at the action before getting cut off by yet another groan, a frown slowly finds its way to spread across his face despite the grin that remains on his lips.
"the book shall wait after all."
ʚ VOX .
the sound of vox's workers and colleagues echoes through his workplace, the source of it coming from the laptop that sits in front of him. he's holding an urgent meeting with them to discuss some things about work, yet you're here obediently sitting on him, cockwarming him. your arms hug his neck tightly, hands grabbing tightly onto his shirt while listening to him speak to the people in call.
you bite down every moan that builds in your throat, not allowing any sound to be heard by anyone but your partner. times when vox isn't discussing important matters, he leans into your ear to whisper praises, thrusting into you, and stops so suddenly when you're close to release.
he grins as you whine at the sudden loss of friction, skin flushed while feeling him draw lazy circles on your hips with his thumbs. he starts speaking again just when you're about to voice your frustration, drawing out a grumble from you. you stay there unattended, glancing at the part where the two of you connect; you're craving release, and you're done waiting.
with a steady pace, you move your own hips while holding onto his shoulders for support. vox's head snaps toward your direction, teeth gritting as he bites back the groans that threaten to leave his lips. he tries to hold you down, but his body betrays him and allows you to carry on with your movements. his head tilts back to lean against the headrest of his chair, the words that his workers speak gradually shifting to a blur in his mind.
"fuck, w-wait," his breath grows heavy, barely managing to keep his eyes open as you fuck yourself on his cock. you're supposed to be cockwarming him, not riding him. he has allowed you to the point of no return, how is he going to carry on with the meeting now? you grab him and connect your lips with his, drinking in his groans like how he does to your moans.
ignoring the calls of his name from the meeting, he pulls you closer by the waist as you grind yourself on him. it wasn't until he started getting annoyed by the meeting that he broke away from the kiss, strings of saliva still connecting your lips while his hand reached out to shut the laptop down. the room falls to a sudden silence, the only sounds that remain are your heavy breathing.
"you're gonna fuck up my company if this carries on," vox snickers before crashing his lips with yours again, hands holding onto your hips to thrust into you without anything holding him back this time.
ʚ VALENTINO .
you still can't process the fact that you're in valentino's studio with his cock buried deep inside of you while people walked around to work on set. valentino takes puffs from the cigarette he holds between his fingers, often ordering and even yelling at people as they rush to obey his commands.
nobody pays any mind to the both of you; in fact, they see it as something normal. after all, they're working for a porn producer, what is there not to be normal? you keep your face stuffed in the fluff of his coat, hands gripping tightly onto his outfit while still trying to adjust to how good he stretches you apart. everyone has just started working, and the set is still being prepared for a new film.
"you're tighter than usual my love, are you that excited to be around everyone?" he teases with a mocking tone, puffing out a wisp of pink smoke onto your flushed face. you lightly shake your head with a whine, the smoke that you inhale causing your vision to spin immediately. humming, valentino lifts your body up with the help of his lower pair of arms before roughly slamming you back down onto his cock. "I doubt that. you've always loved being fucking in public, no? look at you,"
you gasp, body tensing as a moan escapes your throat. you immediately bite down on your lower lip, eyes screwing shut while simultaneously having your body trembling under his hold. you don't want to draw too much attention to yourself, yet the idea alone excites you in an odd way that you never knew it would. noting your reaction, valentino continues repeating the action before stopping promptly, feeding himself with your choked back moans.
"keep looking pretty like that while i work, i'll have a reward waiting for you." you mewl at his words, giving him a weak nod while tugging onto his shirt. he takes another long drag from his cigarette before letting his gaze fall onto the prepared set displayed in front of him, eyes scanning for the stars of the show in the room.
he would moan softly into your ear whenever you clenched around him, teasing you with his mere voice and carrying on with his work. you don't complain, though, considering how you'll be fucked into a moaning mess once he's done with work.
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© silas ( @silasours ). all rights reserved. every work posted on this account belongs to me, and only me. please refrain from reposting, plagiarizing, translating, or reproducing my work in any form possible.
#﹕a dream to nowhere.#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor#alastor x reader#hazbin alastor#hazbin lucifer#lucifer#lucifer smut#lucifer x reader#alastor smut#hazbin vox#vox x reader#vox smut#valentino x reader#hazbin valentino#valentino smut#hazbin hotel headcanon#hazbin hotel smut#hazbin hotel imagine#lucifer morningstar#the vees#hazbin x reader#hazbin hotel drabble
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I've been having fun tracing Wallaces. I'm doing Scott next >:3
#i LOVE tracing paper#but uh. there's a lot of Putting Heavy Objects On The Books#to weigh them down. y'know#so i can get the paper & pen in there. the books are small and close easily#i do also draw by just lookin at it but this is my Wallace Page. my babygirl#i like how distinctive the art style is in the first book compared to the last. augh#the evolution of art!!! makes my heart happy to know everyone starts off with inconsistent linework and weird proportions n stuff#even... bryan.... :)
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crush // abby anderson
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*・゜゚・* summary: abby is like can u read my mind? i've been watching u! couldn't fight to save ur life, but you look so cool!!! just me rambling about making abby realize she's not straight
*・゜゚・* pairing: canon!abby x reader
*・゜゚・* content: sfw! you two dancing around each other for now. abby being nervous and cute.
*・゜゚・* length: 1.3k
this is part one and i've already written the majority of the rest. just thought this was a good way to break it up :)
recently i am thinking A Lot about the concept of being the girl that makes abby realize she’s not straight ,,, and the first girl she’s ever with
the idea of her being all fumbly and nervous and you having to take the lead. it’s just good
i also love the idea of being very different to her. you’re not a soldier like her, maybe you do something technical and sciencey. you get moved to the base and become friends, and people are just like… kinda surprised that you’re so close, so fast? on paper, you don’t seem to have that much in common but it just works. she likes that you’re different to her, it’s refreshing
you’d already heard a lot about her before you moved. you told her that not long into being friends with her, to which she’d scoffed a little, toying with her fingers. you were in the canteen, the two of you sitting opposite each other on the end of the table, leaving a gap between the rest of the group.
“good or bad?”
“good,” you’d chuckled, taking a bite of your lunch.
she paused, flitting her gaze away as you held eye contact, chewing slowly. “gonna elaborate?”
the corners of your mouth quirked as you swallowed. “just that you’re… pretty impressive. good at what you do. slightly intimidating.”
she scoffed again, eyebrows twitching. “i’m not… do you think i’m… you think that?”
“…impressive or intimidating?”
“either.”
you’d looked downwards, pausing before meeting her eyes with a teasing smile on your face. “you’re very tall.”
she didn’t tell you this at the time, but she’d heard things about you, too. she hadn’t paid it much mind at the time, but there had been a couple of mentions of a scientist girl moving in to help out with a new assignment full time, and that she was, ‘like, a genius’
also, manny had said something to her along the lines of ‘apparently she’s hot’, while raising his eyebrows with a cheeky smirk
she’d just rolled her eyes
but then she meets you for the first time, and okay. he wasn’t wrong
it’s only a chaste introduction as you cross paths one day, but she has to make a real effort to keep her cool. she doesn’t understand it, she’s just affected by you, just has to know you
and then she does know you, and she still wants to know you more. it’s this feeling, this drive, always wanting more more more
it sends her crazy. the fact it takes her so long to realize she has a crush on you makes her look back and laugh at her own naivety
she finds out you’re gay maybe a month into being friends with you, when you’re hanging out with her at the library. she never gave much thought to the fact you seemed to follow her around, spend nearly all your spare time with her. she figured it was just because you didn’t know anyone else that well yet.
she’s quietly reading on one side of the couch, while you try your best to get some work done on the other, papers strewn over the coffee table in front. it’s difficult to concentrate, though, even though you’re fully aware how inundated you are. one of her legs is slung up on the couch, bent at the knee, and you’re so conscious of the proximity.
after a good while of trying and failing to get anywhere, you look up at her and lean in a little. “hey, abby?”
she looks up from her book, acknowledging you.
“i’m bored.”
she chuckles as she sits up, closing the pages around her middle finger to keep her place. “c’mon, we need you to… save the world.”
you let out a small, fond scoff, putting your notebook and pen down on the coffee table. “that’s really… not what i do. appreciate the delusion of grandeur you’ve just given me, though.”
she watches you with a smile, not meeting your eyes as you sit back on the couch, shuffling around to face her. “so…” you begin.
“so…?” she parrots, raising her eyebrows slightly.
“what went on between you and owen?”
she’s a little shocked at your bluntness, laughing nervously and shifting in her seat. as far as she was aware, you didn’t even know anything about that. “what?”
you pull a face. “come on, i’m not stupid. i notice things.”
in truth, you’re using the question as a trojan horse to figure out if she likes women. you are genuinely curious, though, and right now the conversation sounds a hell of a lot better than doing what you’re actually supposed to be.
she pauses, eyes flitting around the room. “uh… we were together for a while. and now we’re not.”
you nod slowly, waiting for an elaboration that never comes. “that’s it?”
abby shrugs awkwardly, and you feel a little bad for pushing, holding your hands up. “sorry, sorry. i don’t mean to pry.”
“s’okay.” she messes with the novel, eyes trained on it as she runs the pad of her index over the closed pages. “what about you? you got a boyfriend?”
“i, uh… i was with someone. it didn’t work out.”
she hums in sympathy. “he a scientist, too?”
“she’s a medic.”
abby freezes, looking up at you, mouth falling open slightly. she feels stupid for assuming. “oh, shit, sorry. i didn’t realize you were — sorry. not that there’s anything wrong with that.” she mentally kicks herself for the last statement. of course there isn’t. she doesn’t even know why she said it.
you laugh, amused by her babbling and the way the tops of her cheeks turn pink. “you’re good, you’re good.”
she lets out a final, ‘sorry’, gaze darting from you, to her book, to the shelf on your right. then, she looks back at you, feeling the need to break the slightly uncomfortable silence that had fallen. “anyway… her loss.”
you chuckle. “owen’s loss. who needs ‘em?”
“who needs ‘em?” she repeats, breathing out a laugh.
after the revelation, something shifts for abby. she doesn’t know why, but finding out that you like women makes her feel… different (?) about you
not in a bad way. just different
she’d always looked at you and thought you were beautiful. possibly more beautiful than any girl she’d ever seen
and she knew she was nervous around you; she was normally pretty outgoing and didn’t really have an issue talking to anyone. but when it came to you she’d overthink every sentence, words getting caught in her throat. she just felt such a need to impress you, wanted to say and do everything right
she just thought that she really, really wanted to be friends with you. that she thought you were cool, and admirable, and funny, and smart, and liked being around you
but finding out that you’re gay just makes her… think. on a whole other level she’d never really looked into
knowing that you could, maybe, maybe, be a viable option sends her mind reeling with a whole host of confusing thoughts more than she’d like to admit
she’d never really put much thought into her sexuality. she’d always just assumed she was straight. sure, she’d looked at women before, gotten a little flustered around pretty girls, but just guessed everyone did
but when it was you… like. you… it was a whole other ballgame
and then, over a few months, she starts thinking about silly things like how it would feel to touch you — really touch you, not just the friendly brushes you already shared. how soft you’d feel, how it would be to have her fingers threaded through your hair
then she starts thinking about if she’d maybe want to kiss you
she decides she’s not against the idea
#tlou#tlou2#abby anderson#abby tlou#abby anderson fluff#abby x reader#abby x you#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson x you#abby anderson tlou2#abby anderson headcanons#wlw fic#lesbian fic#my writing
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It's a Love Story - Chapter 6
Summary:
Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.
Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.
And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.
Warning:
DEFINETLY NSFW! Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible.
If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.
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For somebody that filled her romance novels with plenty of smut… Sky wasn’t exactly as experienced as one may expected.
Actually…she was woefully inexperienced.
There had been Admon…and Admon it had been.
The rest of the stuff in her books…well, that was just her fantasy wildly spinning stories about how sex should feel. Informed by plenty of books she had read, other authors, and of course…there were the two people that got to read every book she wrote before it was published: Orla, her publisher, and her friend Ressina, who was nice enough to take the pen to every thing she wrote that was woefully inaccurate.
Because nothing ever felt to her like she portrayed it in the books.
Maybe that was normal. Maybe it was because of course her books portrayed something…better than reality, an escape from it. But still…sometimes Sky had just wondered…
As Azriel carried her towards the bedroom, Sky couldn’t help but feel a flutter of nervousness in her stomach. It wasn’t that she didn’t want this, she did, more than anything. But the truth was, she was…nervous.
She had written about this moment countless times, had described it in vivid detail in her novels. But now that it was actually happening, she felt…insecure. What if it wasn’t as good in real life as she made it out to be on paper? What if she did disappoint him?
(Sky knew that she had disappointed Admon numerous times…that she seemingly had never been enough for him…had been so bad at it in fact that he had instead slept with her sister…which was a whole other kettle of fish that she really didn’t want ot think to close about right now.)
Sky tried to push those thoughts aside, to focus on the here and now.
Azriel was here with her, he wanted her just as much as she wanted him. She could feel it in the way he held her, the way he looked at her. And yet, that nagging feeling of doubt still lingered.
And then there was the fact while he had admitted to sending his shadows to search for her… Sky was still keeping a rather big secret.
“Az…Azriel…” she said hesitantly. “There…there is one thing you should know about me.”
Azriel paused, setting Sky down on the bed gently before turning to look at her.
"Go on," he prompted her gently, taking her hand in his as he sat down next to her and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You can tell me anything, Sky." She believed him. he wouldn’t judge her. She was sure of that as well.
“You…You k…know how…how I…I write… ro…romance no..novels?” Sky asked him, biting her lip.
Azriel nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yes, I do," he said, leaning in closer to her. "You told me.”
“I…I am Sellyn Drake,” she blurted out.
She had never outright admitted it to another person.
Ressina had been the one who had send off her first manuscript to be published…and Orla had met with her…these were the two people in existence that knew that Skylar Alden was also Sellyn Drake. And Skylar had always been comfortable with keeping it that way.
There was no need to tell anybody else.
Which was why it worked so well, that Ressina was an artist and could paint the bookcovers for her. No need whatsoever to let anybody else see the hesitant first drafts until she was sure this was where she wanted to go. Just Ressina. Just one of her very few friends. If not her only.
Azriel stared at her, his eyes widening in surprise. "What?" he asked, completely taken aback. "You're...Sellyn Drake?" There was no…outright disbelief in his voice, just shock.
*We know! We made Master read your books!* the shadows cooed. *Lady Death, The Priestess and The Shopkeeper love them too!*
She had no idea who any of these people were but…
Azriel's eyes widened even further as the shadows spoke up. "You...you knew about this?" he asked them, turning towards the shadows in disbelief. "You knew. That’s why you gave me her books to read!”
This was just getting better and better.
Sky, who had been watching Azriel and the shadows’ exchange with a mixture of nervousness and embarrassment, couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation.
“Do…Do they always…” she couldn’t even put it into words.
Azriel sighed. “They like to meddle,” he said darkly. “And this time they were particularly persistent.” He shot a reproachful look at the shadows, who cowered a little under his gaze. "I won't lie, they did manipulate me into reading your books. And when my shadows do something they are rather...convincing."
She swallowed.
“Did…did you…li…like them at…at least?” Sky asked hesitantly.
Azriel hesitated for a moment before answering.
"I...I did," he admitted earnestly. "Your writing...it's brilliant, Sky.” Her heart soared at his words. She treasured them, hoarding them away like a dragon. But he wasn’t done. “The characters, the emotions, the way you make the reader feel everything...it's incredible. I couldn't put them down."
Sky grinned at his words, feeling a swell of pride in her chest. "I…I'm glad you..you li…liked them," she said softly.
*Master especially liked the…*
“Shut. Up.” Azriel snapped, his ears reddening and Sky started laughing. She could just about imagine what the shadows wanted to tell her at that moment.
Azriel groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I'm going to kill them," he muttered under his breath.
"They…they are ju…just try…trying to help you, aren't they?" she asked softly, squeezing his hand in hers. Only now she noticed the violent scars that marred them, the texture of raised and bumpy skin…but she didn’t care. Not one bit.
*Of course, we are,* the shadows said, like any other idea was simply blasphemous. *We gave Master the best information we could. So that Master would know what you like.*
Sky probably shouldn't find it as adorable as she did. But the lengths they had gone to...the way they had made Azriel read her books so that he would know what she liked...nobody in her life had ever gone to these lengths just to find out what she liked.
"I swear I am not a total creep," Azriel told her with a grimace.
Sky laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. "No…no, no, you're not," she assured him, squeezing his, hands gently. "I…I ac…actually think it's… quite… sweet. In a weird, sli…slightly invasive kind of way. But sweet nonetheless."
"I think you are the only female that could possible think that," Azriel muttered, glaring at the shadows that didn't seem apologetic in the slightest.
Sky grinned, leaning in closer to him. "It’s… endearing,” she finally settled on. “Maybe even a lit…little bit charming," she promised him earnestly.
Azriel looked at her incredulously, his expression softening a little. "You're not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?" he asked her.
Sky shook her head. "No. No, I'm not," she said, her voice unwavering. "I…I mean it, Azriel. It iss actually really sweet that you would go to… such lengths just to try to un…understand me better. And you ad…admitted to it. And not just after the mating bond was accepted but within hours of meeting me."
Azriel didn't keep it a secret, even when he could have, and she would have been none the wiser.
"I don't know what I ever did to deserve you. But I'm not going to question it," he whispered.
She swallowed. That's what she was thinking. The exact same words.
Sky pulled him down, letting his forehead rest against hers.
"I know that...that I am supposed to cook you something...but how disappointed would you be if I gave you one of those caramel bonbons in my purse to accept the bond instead?" she asked him softly, meeting his gaze.
His eyes widened and he stared at her in pure, undiluted wonder.
"I could not possible be dissappointed by whatever you offered me," Azriel whispered. "But...are you...are you sure?"
"I am being utterly selfish," she whispered. "Yes. I want you." She didn't care that people would have thoughts about it...that she was rushing into this.
They were probably right.
But Sky really didn't care. Sky only wanted him. Sky was ready to throw caution overboard and rush into this headfirst without a thought about the consequences, if that meant that she would get her mate.
"Then let's be selfish together," Azriel whispered.
With shaky hands she reached into her purse, finding one of the caramel bonbon she kept in there...unwrapped it out of the paper and then...then she offered it to him, lifting it to his lips.
Azriel looked at the bonbon, then at her, and for a moment she thought he would say something. But then his mouth opened and he took it from her hand... He chewed it, swallowing carefully, his gaze never wavering from hers. For a moment, they stayed suspended in that moment of tension, the only sound their breathing. And then, he leaned in, closing the distance between them, and kissed her as if she was the most precious thing in his entire world.
A Mating Frenzy had always been protrayed as animalistic in every book she read. So of course, Sky had written the exact same thing.
But it wasn't...not really.
Not for them.
And being with Azriel was also a far cry from being with Admon...mostly because then it had often been...embarrassing and painful.
Admon had always found something to criticise on her body...foreplay had been nonexistent, even when she had tried...and while he had been more than willing to use her mouth to find his own pleasure he had never returned that favour.
With Azriel it was different. Every touch, every caress, every kiss made her feel things she had never felt before. It was like her body was coming alive for the first time.
All her senses were heightened, every nerve in her body singing with pleasure, and Sky couldn't get enough of him. She wanted more. No, she needed more. As Azriel trailed kisses down her throat, she arched her back, pressing herself against him, her hands roaming over his body, exploring every inch of him that she could reach.
"Can I...Can I touch your wings?" she asked breathlessly, not wanting to...cross some unsaid line.
"Please," Azriel breathed out. "Yes, Sky, please." He lifted his wings, extending them out behind him, giving her free rein to touch and explore to her heart's content. As Sky's fingers brushed against the contours of his wings, Azriel let out a low, guttural moan, his wings twitching and shuddering at the sensation. They were massive and pitch black.
"They are beautiful," she whispered, running her hands over the silky black skin, feeling the warmth radiating from them.
He shuddered at her touch, his wings arching and trembling beneath her gentle caress. he leaned his forehead against hers as he gently tipped her back against the bed and she went willingly, wrapping her hands over the gleaming talons at the tip of his wings as she kissed him.
Azriel growled softly in response, his hands sliding up beneath her dress, opening the lacing in one fluid motion. As the dress fell open, revealing her body beneath, Azriel pulled back for a moment, looking down at her with dark, hungry eyes. "You are so beautiful," he breathed, his gaze roaming over her body.
She didn't even have the time to feel self-conscious, not when she was drowning in the waves of desire that shot across their bond from him. Not when her whole body seemingly trembled against his and she kissed him again, opening her mouth to his tongue.
He slipped open the dress and she opened her mouth, halfway ready to tell him how he could get the corset she wore off, but he already opened the lacing. "Why?" he asked her softly, as he saw the red indents left on her body, and she grimaced.
"Claire," she whispered.
She wore corsets usually for support, because her breast could get heavy and painful without the proper support...but she never laced them as tightly as she did when she saw her family. Or her sister. Then she pulled them tight, trying to squash her body to be something…something her family could stomach, something they maybe wouldn't comment on...she always failed.
Azriel hissed softly, his fingers lightly tracing the red marks on her skin. She knew that they looked horrible, and yet he looked...angered? Almost furious. His expression softened as he looked back into her eyes, his fingers gently tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "Why would you do something like that to yourself, Sky?" he murmured, his eyes searching hers. "You are beautiful. You don't need to change anything about your body." He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to a particularly hard imprint the corset had left.
Sky swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in her throat as emotion welled up in her chest. No one had ever said something like that to her, had ever made her feel like she was good enough just the way she was. She opened her mouth, trying to speak, but no words came out. Instead, she just nodded, feeling a single tear slip down her cheek. Azriel wiped it away with his thumb, his other hand coming up to cup her face tenderly.
"You are perfect," he whispered, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Just the way you are. Don't ever let anyone make you feel otherwise. Not even your family." Sky leaned into his touch, closing her eyes and just focusing on the closeness, the warmth, the feeling of being cherished and protected.
With every word he spoke, she felt a weight lifting off her shoulders, her fears and insecurities melting away. She realized that maybe, just maybe, she had found someone who truly saw her, the real her. Who accepted her exactly as she was, flaws and all.
It was so easy to sink into that. So easy to trust him. So easy to just kiss him, as she pushed the shirt he wore over his shoulders...to feel acres of gold skin, dotted with scars and dark markings...to bare him for her view and see how utterly gorgeous her mate was.
He growled softy as she ran her hand down his chest, tracing the scars that marked his skin. His body was a tapestry of pain and survival, yet she wasn't deterred. She only found him more beautiful for it.
"Mine," she whispered, pressing her lips to his chest, to one particularly nasty scar. "All mine." She could feel his heart pounding beneath her lips, the steady beat matching the rhythm of her own heartbeat. Her hands trailed down his chest, his stomach, until she reached the waistband of his trousers.
It was so easy.
So easy, to shed clothing until they were bare...so easy to press against him and feel warm, perfect skin...so easy to relax underneath him as he stretched over her...so easy to simply cup his face as she kissed him...as her legs wrapped around his hips and he groaned and she whimpered as she felt him...hot and hard and huge, pressing against her...She was dripping wet without him even laying as single finger on her beneath the waist.
Azriel didn't look unaffected, his breath coming in ragged pants, his eyes fixed on hers as they were blown wide and dark with want. He didn't move, didn't kiss her, didn't pull her closer. He only waited. Waited for her.
"I need you," she whimpered. "Please. Please, Az." He let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a growl, his hips rocking gently against her, teasing them both with the heat and friction between them.
Nothing hurt. Nothing ever even threatened to hurt...Even as she could feel him notch against her there...even when she could feel herself lewdly stretched open on his cock...
It was so soft and gentle and sweet and…
It was everything Sky had ever wanted.
Not the rough kind of fucking...not the animalistic coupling she wrote half the time...but she had wanted this. She had wanted sweetness and adoration and...love...and to be wrapped up in her mate's arms like she was a precious, precious thing. She had wanted whispered praised against her skin and to be touched like she mattered...
"Sky," he whispered, his hands running up her side, his touch was soft and soothing, worshipping her body. He kissed her, slowly, deeply, and there was something...almost overwhelming about it.
About the way he made her feel. The way he made her feel loved and adored. The way he made her feel cherished. Her hands wandered up to his back, tracing the muscles shifting beneath scarred, scarred skin.
She could feel him trembling, feel the tension in his body as he held himself back, but still, he moved in slow and gentle thrusts, taking his time. He worshipped her - every little gasp and moan, every curve of her body. He traced her shape with his fingertips and lips, exploring her as though he was trying to memorize every inch of her body.
She didn't know how long they stayed that way, their bodies as one, but Sky didn't care. She was surrounded by him - the heat of his skin, the sound of his breath, the way he whispered her name like a prayer. Sky could feel the love and devotion pouring through the bond, washing over her in waves, and she knew that this was exactly where she was meant to be. With him, in his arms, completely and utterly whole.
It nearly came as a shock as she came.
A breathless moan fell from her lips as her orgasm rushed over her, her body arching as she called out his name. He kissed her through it, murmuring praise against her lips as he held her close, his own release following soon after.
They stayed there for a moment, tangled together, both of them breathless and sated. Azriel's wings slowly wrapped around them, cocooning them in a warm, protective embrace that made Sky feel safe and cherished in a way she had never experienced before.
***
There was not one inch of his mate's body that wasn't utterly beautiful. From the tips of her arched ears, to her beautiful eyes...to the swell of her breasts and the dip of her waist and the soft flesh of her belly and the flare of her hips...she smelled so good too...especially now that their scents had started to mix, and he could breath in caramel and hazelnuts and cedars and the sweet, beautiful scent of happiness as she laid underneath him. His head was bedded on her stomach, as she drew short fingernails through his messy dark hair. He nearly wanted to start to purr as she scratched at his scalp.
Azriel felt...content.
More content than he ever remembered feeling. He was wrapped up in her, his mate, with her gentle hands in his hair, and he felt utterly and completely at peace. He didn't care if they never moved from that bed again. He didn't care if the world outside their little cocoon burned. So long as she was by his side, he was content. He had never felt like this before. He had never felt this...happy. This...whole.
"I need to go feed Hector," Sky told him softly, trailing her fingers through his hair.
"Can I just have the shadows kidnap him and bring him here?" he asked, not wanting to move.
"You can't go kidnapping my cat, Az," she chided him gently, but even as she said the words, she didn't stop drawing her fingers through his hair, and Azriel didn't move. He was far too comfortable.
"Why not?" he complained.
"You'll terrify him," she said with a laugh. "Besides, do you have cat food here?"
"I'll have the shadows find some Tuna," he mumbled.
"Do…Do they just ac…acquire whatever you tell them to?" she asked him with some amusement.
And lots of things he didn't tell them to, as well. They thought he didn’t know.
Azriel raised himself on his forearms, looking down at Sky with a glint in his eye. "You have no idea how many things I've acquired that way," he told her with a grin.
She lifted her hands, cupping his cheeks and pulling him down towards her, resting her forehead against his. "You're a menace," she murmured against his lips.
"Your menace," he replied, kissing her softly.
Sky smiled, a warm, slow curve of her lips that made his chest feel tight. "Mine," she agreed, her voice soft. "But no kidnap…kidnapping my cat. He's at home."
"We could make this our home," he protested softly. "Move in with me."
Azriel had no fucking clue what was even coming over him. They should have slowed down, stopped to think...but neither of them seemed to want to.
They just…they seemed utterly content to crash through what other people considered a normal timeline and just be together right now.
He just wanted to be near her. He wanted to share a life with her, a home. He wanted to curl up with her in front of the fire on a cold winter's night, and spend lazy Sunday mornings in bed with her. He wanted to take her flying, and watch as she wrote and listened to her read the words she wrote.
And he wanted - Gods, he wanted her to want that too. He held his breath as he waited for her response.
For a moment, she was silent, and Azriel wondered if he had stepped too far, asked too much too soon.
But then, Sky smiled again, her eyes sparkling with emotions.
"...Al…Alright," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll…I’ll move in with you."
Azriel couldn't help but grin as he pressed his forehead to hers. "Really? You mean it?" he asked, still unable to believe his ears.
"Really," she echoed with a laugh, before her expression turned serious. "But I…I have one co…condition."
Azriel raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue. "What is it?"
"If I move in with you..." she began, wrapping her arms around his neck. "All my books need to come to," she told him seriously.
Azriel laughed, leaning back in to kiss her softly. "All your books can come, if that's what you want," he said. "As long as you're here, I don't care what else you bring."
And then the shadows unceremoniously dumped a screeching demon on the bed with them.
Sky let out a surprised yelp as Hector landed next to them with a thud, quickly scrambling away from the cat - and from under Azriel's weight. Azriel, for his part, sprang up, his wings flaring out in alarm. For several long moments, the three of them just stared at each other. Hector, his mismatched eyes glowing, his fur puffed up to twice it’s normal size, and Sky, her expression a mixture of surprise and affection as she looked at her pet. Finally, she cleared her throat. "Well, that's one way to introduce the two of you. Az, meet Hector."
...Gods, the shadows had really not been lying when they said that the cat was the ugliest thing they had ever seen.
Azriel slowly lowered his wings, eyeing the creature that was half-cat and half-demon. "He...looks like he wants to kill me," he said slowly.
Sky laughed, reaching out to scratch Hector's head. "He's just grumpy because he got teleported here so suddenly," she told him. "And he's not used to strangers." Hector's fur slowly flattened, and he began to purr, rubbing his head against Sky's hand. "Besides, he'd never hurt anyone," she added, looking up at Azriel with a smile.
Somehow Azriel highly doubted that.
Sky picked Hector up, cradling the cat in her arms as his purring grew louder. "See? He's not so bad," she told Azriel, moving towards him, and Azriel had to resist the urge to back away. "Hold out your hand, let him sniff you. He just needs to get used to you."
Azriel hesitantly held out his hand, trying his best to ignore the way Hector's eyes seemed to glow with an eerie light. After a moment, Hector moved forward, sniffing at Azriel's hand. Azriel felt the soft brush of whiskers against the palm of his hand, and Hector nudged his head against him, purring louder.
"See, he loves you!" Sky said enthusiastically
Azriel let out a laugh, slowly scratching the top of Hector's head. "I think he's just trying to lull me into a false sense of security before he scratches my eyes out, you know."
She rolled her eyes, "You are the most handsome cat I know," she cooed at him. "And you won't ever scratch out Azriel's eyes. No, you won't.”
Azriel would not quite go as far as describe the cat as handsome...but then...his own scarred hands weren't particularly beautiful either.
So Hector and him had that in common.
And the fact that they both wanted to cuddle with Sky. Actually, he was pretty sure that the cat hated him just for taking away his monopoly on that.
But Azriel would have shared a house with the King of Hybern if that meant that he got to have Sky in his bed.
She smiled at him, her eyes warm and adoring. "I knew you two would hit it off," she said, holding Hector in the crook of her arm. The cat stared at Azriel for a moment, as if sizing him up, before leaping off Sky's lap and disappearing under the bed with a soft patter of paws. "He'll warm up to you eventually," Sky assured him, but Azriel wasn't so sure about that.
He pulled Sky in closer to him, slipping back underneath the sheets with her, kissing her forehead. "I'll win him over, eventually," he promised her. At least, he hoped he would - he didn't particularly enjoy the idea of having to wake up with his throat being sliced open by an angry cat.
He would buy that damn cat all the Tuna in the world if that made Sky happy.
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READ BETWEEN THE LINES (JASON TODD)
NOTES/CW - continuation of this post, literally just straight up porn, fem!reader, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, -17 dni, my first time writing smut in this format so plz be nice this shit is NOT for the weak !!! (1.7k)
It's about an hour before Jason caps the highlighter in his hand, having skimmed over the entire book in record time, picking out five or six quotes that would boost your essay into A territory. Except, you weren't concerned about the essay or what grade you got. Yeah, sure, when you had first invited him over, it was genuinely because you needed feedback, but now you have the feedback
"It's written well, only problem is that you need better quotes."
You remember his words as clear as day because they're the reason why Jason had been occupied with your assignment and not the ache between your legs. Now that his perusal of quotes was over, finished, done, and the book was closed, you could finally get relief from something other than your thighs being squeezed together so tight the blood flow was being cut off from your lower extremities.
He carefully cleans up the area, stacking papers strewn across the table and putting pens away. It may have seemed like he was just tidying the table, but you knew that he was messing with you. Typically, you wouldn't give in so easily, but your body was getting hotter by the second, and there was a thin sheen of sweat forming on your back.
God, it was hot. The room was hot, your sweater was hot, and your boyfriend was so fucking hot; and so fucking annoying.
"Jason," you murmur, shifting in your seat as his eyes rake up your figure, shrouded in cozy brown wool. "you said...please, can you just-"
A breathy laugh escapes his lips, and he shakes his head, raking a hand through jet-black hair. He slides the chair back, stands up, and walks over to where you sit. Hovering over you and looking down at your face, which could only be described as pitiful. Your eyes are wide, and your mouth's parted slightly as you manually breathe. Yeah, you look pathetic, but it's not surprising, given the tortuous amount of arousal you were feeling and how badly you needed to get it out of your system.
"Jason." you say again, needier this time. "you said you would..." You trail off, pleading eyes find his as he looks down at you amusedly. His hands make their way to your cheeks, and he tugs at your head ever so slightly, prompting you to stand up.
"You're cute when you get like this," he says before leaning in and pressing a kiss to your lips. You bring your arms around his neck, tugging him closer to you and deepening the kiss. It very quickly devolves into a mess of tongue as your hands eagerly roam his body, sliding up his shirt and running over the rippled abs he keeps hidden away.
"Woah, easy girl," he says, pulling back, and you whimper at the sudden absence of contact between you. "I'm not gonna fuck you standing up." He looks up for a second, seemingly in thought, "At least not today."
The next part happens fast. He grips the back of your thighs, hoisting you up and around his waist, and you gasp at the sudden lack of floor beneath your feet. One hand stays on your leg while the other finds the small of your back, and he walks you over to the couch, laying you down gently.
"You're so impatient sometimes, you know that?" his hands push your sweater up a bit, and you grab the hem, pulling it over your bra and holding it at your neck. "I waited for like two hours." you breathe out as he places a few wet, open-mouthed kisses on your stomach before moving downwards and unbuttoning your jeans, tugging them and your underwear down in one swift movement. "oh, but I'm the impatient one."
He comes back up to your face, a dumb fucking grin playing on his lips, and he kisses you so gently you're slightly taken aback. "I love you," he says, nuzzling his face into your neck and breathing in your scent.
"Love me so much you're skipping the foreplay?"
"Watching you try not to finger fuck yourself for two hours was the foreplay, babe."
You tug at the hem of his shirt, and he gets the message, sitting up for a second and pulling it over his head. He tosses it over the side of the couch, then climbs off you to move onto his pants, and you take the opportunity to lift yourself slightly, removing what was left of your outfit before looking over your shoulder and tossing it behind you. When you turn back around, you're met with the bright pink tip of Jason's cock, white beads of pre-cum collecting on his tip. You've seen him naked dozens of times. Touched him, sucked him, fucked him; dozens of times. But you never really get used to how attractive he is and how much more turned on you get when you see how turned on he is by you.
He pulls you towards him by the foot, and you giggle, knowing what's to come. A calloused hand grabs hold of one of your legs, lifting it up and exposing your cunt. The inside of your thighs, already soaked from the sheer amount of wetness coming from your pussy. "Jesus Christ," he breathes, and you prop yourself up on your elbows, tilting your head down to see what he sees. Even you're shocked at how much your own folds were glistening. You glance up at him, and he gives you a questioning look, a silent "Do you think we need to prepare?" and you take another peek in between your legs, decidedly shaking your head no.
Still holding your leg up with one hand, he grabs his cock with the other, stroking it a couple times and coating it in pre-cum, before lining it up with your entrance. You feel his tip prodding at your hole, and you bite down on your lip, already imagining how good it'll feel when he's inside you.
"You ready?"
"Do you even have to ask?"
He slides inside of you with little resistance, but you still feel how agonizingly good the stretch is. He lets out a long, drawn-out groan, stilling completely before pulling out and pushing back in all the way. He moves steadily, rocking his hips back and forth, in and out. Each stroke hits deep, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. The thickness of his cock giving you an ache so good you think you might die if you never got to experience it again. He quickens his pace a little, your tits bouncing every time his hips make contact with your pussy, and your hands find the cushions of the couch, gripping them every time he hits your sweet spot.
His free hand grabs your other thigh, pushing it towards you, and you hook your arms under your knees, bringing them to your chest, allowing him to reach even deeper than before. He leans in closer, pressing your legs further into your body, and your thighs ache. Still, the pleasure you feel overshadows the pain by a long shot.
A few groans escape Jason's lips, he's never been much of a talker during sex, and you've never really cared because the sounds he makes are enough to keep you clenching around his dick until the end of time. "Fuck." he mutters, and that alone is enough to make the familiar knot in your stomach start to unravel. You unhook one of your arms and squeeze your hand into the incredibly tight space between your legs, rubbing fast circles around your clit, while you feel Jason's pace start to falter.
Your back arches, and you lean your head so far back into the couch that you can't see his face anymore. The lewd sounds of your cunt sucking up his dick fill the room, and it's only a few seconds before you start seeing white. An overwhelming sense of euphoria washes over your body as you dig your nails into the soft cushion of the couch, and he fucks you through your orgasm, continuously kissing your cervix until you feel his cock twitch inside of you as he spills hot streams of cum inside your cunt.
Your lungs painfully expand as you try to make up for the lack of oxygen from holding your breath through your orgasm, and you tilt your head forward into a position where you can see him. Your hand makes its way up into his hair, his head hanging low, face out of view as you both catch your breath. You tug at his locks lightly, and he lifts his head, following your eyes to the legs that were squished between the two of you. Pulling back from you and holding himself up with his arms, he gives you space to stretch out on either side of the couch. You finally get a good look at him as he sits above you, hair clinging to his forehead, cheeks flushed red, and light-catching on the little bit of sweat clinging to his skin. God, you could fuck him again right now.
"You need to be spayed. This can't keep happening," he says, knowing exactly what you're thinking.
"What am I, a fucking cat?" you ask, feigning offense.
"No, but you have the libido of one in heat." he leans down again, hovering above your face, breathing out a shaky laugh. And even though your legs have gone limp, and your lungs hurt from how heavy you've been breathing, you still clench around him, seemingly ready to go again. "Nope," he says, climbing off you and gently pulling out. You wince, the sudden emptiness unbearable. He's right; you do need to be spayed.
"I know you have the stamina for it," you joke, eyes following him as he picks up various articles of clothing off the floor before taking them to the hamper in the bathroom. You hear the sound of water running, and he returns with a wet rag in hand. "I know I do," he walks over to you, lifting one of your legs to give him better access to the mess between your thighs. "the question is, do you?"
You let out an airy laugh, watching him furrow his brows as he wipes down your legs, intent on cleaning you up. "Wanna find out?" you ask; he looks up from the mess to see the grin on your face before returning to the task at hand.
"There's something seriously wrong with you."
i hope you guys enjoyed this, it literally stressed me tf out !! again, my first time writing like a real smut scene so if it's not good then yk why. tell your favorite smut writers you love them because i can tell you from experience, this is much harder than it seems !!
#divider by benkeibear#jason todd#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#jason todd smut#red hood#red hood x reader#red hood x you#red hood smut#jason todd lover
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Oh, How I Hate Him
Pairing: bad boy!Minho x student council prez!fem!reader (college au) Genre: angst, fluff Word count: 8k >.> Warnings: college idiots, mention of drinking, drugs, smoking O_O DONT DO ANY OF THAT, cringe romance, enemies to lovers, dick exboyfriend. protective Minho >.> <.< thats it i think????
a/n: did I intend for this to be smut? Yes. is it? no. do i mind tho? absolutely not someone help me come up with a better title...
You inhaled deeply and smiled contentedly as you entered the student council office.
"Good morning Ms. President." Your friend and vice president, Jia, said.
You gave her a side eye. "I said don't call me that."
"I'm sorry." She giggled, "Yuna, schedule today?"
"We have to collect signatures for lowering student parking costs and start the campaign for the cafeteria to be expanded and renovated this summer, you also have to meet with the principal to discuss how the high schoolers are going to tour the campus, " Yuna, the student council secretary and planner named off things from the list.
You nodded, "Not too much." You checked your watch, "I have a class at 8:30 and I haven't gotten my coffee yet, any of you want to come with me?"
Jia and Yuna looked at you, with are you for real right now man? faces before getting up and grabbing their bags to go with you.
You went to the cafeteria and as you were getting your iced americano, a student came up to you.
"Y/n, can you sign here to help keep our debate program alive? The district is trying to cut off our funding to have our formal debate team dissolved." The boy handed you a clip board and a pen.
You signed your name before picking up your coffee, "I'm running a little late, Yuna, can you take the papers on my desk to the principal's office?"
"Sure." Yuna picked up her own coffee and ran off.
You briskly made your way across campus and checked your watch, 8:25 AM, right on time. You entered the history classroom and smiled, "Good morning." You greeted your professor before going to sit, not too close to the front, not too far back, and not perfectly situated in the middle.
As the classroom filled, your friend, Seungmin, leader of the science olympiad team sat beside you.
"You're a bit late don't you think?" You teased, taking out your notes.
"Not everyone i always going to be as punctual as you, Madam President."
You rolled your eyes.
The chatter in the classroom died as the teacher stepped to the front of the class, "Good morning class, as you know this is the only history class you have to take to meet the graduation requirements. So, if you intend to slack in my class just know your future depends on your performance in this cl-" She was cut off.
The door opened and you looked away from the teacher seeing a man with redish brown hair and a leather jacket at the door, he had pretty eyes and small but plump lips. His eyes raked over the class for a moment before he looked at the teacher, "Sorry, I'm late."
"You are?" She raised a brow.
"Minho. Lee Minho." He said, walking into the class and going up the steps to the back of the classroom, he passed you and your eyes met. He smirked slightly and you made a face, not bothering to watch where he sat.
"I hope you won't be late again, Mr. Lee." The teacher said.
"No promises." He said.
She pursed her lips before continuing her speech about the importance of the class, where to find the resources, the books you'd need, the minimum grade you'd need to pass the final and so on. A snicker made Seungmin look over his shoulder.
Minho was sitting beside a guy with chubby cheeks and big eyes. Han Jisung, who, raised a brow at you and Seungmin as if to ask what.
The teacher kept talking and Minho and Jisung's distractions persisted before finally the teacher, who you now knew as Mrs. Jung snapped. "Gentlemen, is there something that's important enough to interrupt my lesson?"
Minho looked a bit surprised and Jisung blinked a few times.
"No.. ma'am." Minho said tentatively.
"Mr. KIm," Mrs Jung said.
Seungmin looked up a bit confused. "Ma'am?"
"Swap seats with Mr. Lee."
Your mouth fell open, SAY SOMETHING! SAY NO! ASK HER POLITELY TO RETHINK HER DECISION. "Ma'am I really think-" You started.
"As the student body president and one of the three candidates for valedictorian of your graduating class, Y/n, I think you'd be a good influence on Mr. Lee." She reasoned.
Seungmin put his notes in his bag and sighed deeply. "It's fine Y/n, we'll talk later anyway." He went up the steps and waited on Minho to collect his things before sitting next to Jisung.
You looked at Minho as he sat beside you. This was going to be a rough semester.
You went to the student council office after class to handle what Yuna had told you about in the morning and as you set your bag down you bristled, staring at the stack of papers on your desk. The same stack of papers you told Yuna to take to the principal that morning. You sighed and grabbed the papers and left the office, walking briskly down the hall and to the administration office, greeting the schools secretary before setting down the papers in the principal's office.
You went to return to the student council office, pulling out your phone to check over things when you passed the entrance to the arts department. You froze as you saw something in the corner of your eye, looking up to see Hyunjin and a guy in a hoodie.
You raised your hand and opened your mouth to wave but stopped yourself. Who was that guy anyway... You shrugged and went back to the office to handle your things.
You started counting the signatures the other members of the council left on the table, you let out a soft sigh of frustration, for people who complained about it being too much to park on campus, they really, REALLY, did not seem to mind that much.
You went back to your apartment and greeted your roommate, Doyeon, who, was sitting on the couch eating your snacks.
"HEY! Those are mine!" You huffed.
"Are they??!" She looked genuinely shocked.
You rolled your eyes and went to go change before sitting beside her and munching on the snack too.
"Oh, Yeongs-" she started.
"Save it." You said, looking at your phone.
"But he-"
"DODO!" You looked at her. "No. You told me not to be persuaded by him, you shouldn't be either."
"But he seemed genuinely sorry." She muttered.
"He always seems someway." You rolled your eyes and looked back at your phone. You got a notification from instagram suddenly.
You looked at Doyeon. "Does EVERYONE on campus have my instagram?"
She looked away from the TV, "Why are you asking so suddenly?"
"No reason." You muttered, looking back at your phone before following Minho back. He and his stupid self.
The following day Minho was late, much to your delight, you took notes and listened to the teacher for about the Egyptians and the Romans. Twenty minutes late, Minho strolled into class and sat beside you, not bothering to take out his books or anything.
"Good morning Madam President." He whispered.
"You could at least try to get here on time." You said, quickly scrawling down something Mrs. Jung had said.
"You could at least try to relax sometimes." He shot back rolling his eyes.
"If you're going to be late," You slid the first part of the notes to his side of the desk, "Play catch up."
Minho pursed his lips before sighing and taking the notes, he wrote them down faster than you expected, sliding them back to you after about five minutes and peeking at the sheet you were working on. You didn't say anything until as you were writing, he kicked you under the desk. You looked at him.
He was following along with the teacher as if he hadn't done anything. You rolled your eyes and went back to working. Minho's antics persisted until the and of class and as you were packing up your stuff you turned in a bit of frustration back to your desk to see more papers.
Minho was talking to the girl across the isle, she giggled at something he said and you grabbed the papers and pulled out a folder, arranged it neatly then put it carefully into your bag.
You were about to go when you realized your water bottle wasn't in your bag. You looked around your area for a moment before you clenched your fists at the sight of your bottle in MInho's lap.
You grabbed it and were about to leave when he held up your phone.
"LEE MINHO!" You fumed, grabbing your phone and storming out.
"You seem mad-" Jia said, steering clear of your volcanic rage as you threw your things onto the table.
Some of the members of the council squeaked and took off running.
"I hate Lee Minho." You practically growled as you sat in your chair.
A few days later you had worn a pair of heels for a meeting and they had been hurting your feet. You grimaced slightly while getting your coffee and Hyunjin sighed.
"You don't have to wear those shoes y'know." He sighed.
"I have to build habit." You huffed.
Yet when you got to class you really wished you didn't have to "build habit". But you wouldn't admit Hyunjin was right either. So you suffered through the entirety of class and somehow made it to the student council office. The moment you sat down and sulked over your feet you got a text.
You looked at your phone and rolled your eyes at the sight of Minho's contact. You ignored the "You look like you stepped on a lego" text and tried to turn to your work when another text came to your phone.
"Don't ignore my texts." followed by a "Call down your guard dog."
You stared in confusion for a moment before opening your phone and responding finally.
You opened the door to see Seungmin glaring at Minho.
"Y/n tell this hooliga-" He started.
"What do you wa-" You interrupted Seungmin only to be cut off by a pair of slippers being thrusted into your face.
"Wear comfier shoes. You look like you've been in pain all day. Idiot." Minho turned on his heel and walked away.
You blinked in shock for a moment. "Did he just.."
"You give her the slippers?" Hyunjin asked as Minho blitzed into the dance studio.
"Yeah..." He relaxed as he realized he was safe. He must've looked like an idiot. But when you were leaving the campus that evening Minho saw you and Seungmin walking to thee latter's car. A small smile came to his face as he saw you were wearing the slippers.
The next few months were packed for you, your teachers piled work on you like there was no tomorrow, and you wrote essay after essay. Business with the student council wasn't much better as Jia got sick with something and the campus tour date was coming closer and closer.
And Minho? Oh how you hated him. You hated the way he walked and talked and how he seemed to understand things without reading too much. You hated how he smirked at you in the hall way and how he got under your skin.
"I'm going to assign you your first project of the semester," Mrs Jung said from the front of the class.
You sucked in a breath and looked at your already stuffed bag, full of books and papers for your other classes.
"You will work in pairs." She said, "The rubric and criteria needed are online, if you have any issues feel free to ask me. I will assign partners now."
You exhaled shakily, Please don't be Minho. Please don't be Minho Please don't be Minho-
"Kim Seungmin and Baek Soojin," She said, "Han Jisung and Park Junho,"
Please don't be Minho!
"Soo Dokyung and Jin Sungwoon."
GOD IM BEGGING PL-
"L/n Y/n and Lee Minho."
You wanted to die on the spot.
"Woulda look at that prez, we're a team." Minho whispered, smirking at you.
You bit your lip. This wasn't so bad, he seemed pretty good at turning in his stuff on time and was mostly accurate. You had everything under control. You took a deep breath and looked at him. "If this is going to work we need to distribute the work fairly. So, I'll research the fall of the roman empire and you research the rise, we'll have a document to collect references and-" You head throbbed for a moment and you grabbed your forehead.
"Are you okay?" Minho tilted his head, brows furrowing.
You nodded, "I'm fine."
Only you weren't because after class you went to the student council office and sat at your desk.
"Y/N are you okay?" Yuna asked as you held your head, sucking a deep breath before continuing with your work.
"Yeah I'm good." You said taking out your computer and getting ready to work.
"You look a little pale.." She muttered.
You still got to work on your research though, Yuna left after a while, telling you to take care of yourself and relax. Earlier than usual you finally decided to head out, calling a cab and-
"What's the president doing here so late?"
You looked at Minho, who was carrying a duffel bag and his keys. "Work," You said, looking at the road waiting for your cab.
He stared at you for a moment. "Are you okay?"
You turned to him, "Why are you so concerned if I'm alright today? I'm fine, thanks." You said a bit harshly.
He made a face, "You just look really burnt out. It's late, let me give you a ride."
"I already have a ride on the way, Minho," You shut him down fast and he pursed his lips.
"Whatever you say, Madam President." He walked away to the parking lot and you couldn't help but feel a pang in your chest, like you'd gone too far.
Your cab came and you made it back to your apartment, Doyeon was the third person to point out your sickly appearance but the only one who actually made it to feeling your head and gasping at how hot you were.
"What the hell Y/N?! Are you trying to kill yourself?!! Come on!" She dragged you to your bed and made you put your stuff down and change before getting you into bed. "You aren't going anywhere ma'am." She said, "You sit here and get better, Nurse Doyeon will take care of you."
"I'd rather die." You teased.
She pouted, "Meanie."
You rolled your eyes and smiled at your friend, "Thank you Dodo."
"Of course y/nnie."
If you felt like shit at school, that was only the beginning, you whined in pain at your sore throat and Doyeon had to convince you to eat even though it hurt to swallow. After you finally finished the noodles and all the soup Doyeon made you, she made you take medicine for your throat and to reduce your fever before letting you sleep finally.
Only as you were drifting of you thought about history and mentally berated yourself for not studying ahead for the lessons. You were about to grab your laptop when your phone buzzed. A message from Minho.
Minho stared at his phone for a moment, he thought about how you seemed a but more irritable and pale and how your usual upright, perfect posture was slackened. So he did do his research that night, and looked at his cat Dori, "She's so uptight. It's not fair.."
The cat mewed softly.
"You're right, I'll give her something tomorrow." Minho muttered, "Maybe she's overworking herself. You think she likes pasta? Or maybe I should make her strawberry cake..."
In the morning, Minho was getting ready for class when his phone rang, he pulled his shirt over his head and grabbed it, answering the call.
"Hyunjin?" He said, putting the phone on speaker.
"You coming today? Changbin might come too." Hyunjin said on the other end.
"Y'know I have a project to work on." Minho said fixing his hair in the mirror.
"Man, just a few hours."
"Yeah, nah." Minho said.
"Alright, your loss." He went quiet for a moment, "Did you see Y/n yesterday?"
Minho thought about how you looked so tired the day before. "Yeah."
"I'm a little worried y'know." Hyunjin sighed. "She never says anything when she doesn't feel well. But oh well, we'll see later."
Minho thought about what Hyunjin had said the entire way to class and for once, he was on time, sitting in his seat waiting for you. The classroom filled, the teacher entered, and you... never came.
He fidgeted slightly. Where were you? For the first time since he walked into that history class—much to Mrs. Jung and Seungmin's shock—Minho took notes. He jotted down things that were important and little details on the side, he underlined and highlighted did his best to seperate definitions and dates from key material as he'd seen you do.
After class he went to the student council office. This was abnormal. Where were you? You would never miss class even if you didnt have a ride and had to walk the entire way... in flip flops (as if you ever would) YOU WOULD BE AT SCHO-
"If you're looking for the president she's not here today." The secretary said.
"Why? Is she ok-" Minho started only to stop himself, "No problem."
He went to the arts department to see Hyunjin.
"Thought you weren't coming today?" The long haired man said, taking a hair band between his teeth so he could gather his hair.
"Came to say hi, I've got work to do." Minho shrugged.
"OH, 'cause Y/n isn't here?" Hyunjin giggled as he tied his hair.
Minho made a face. "Really wanna go that way?"
"No sir.." Hyunjin laughed nervously as Jisung and Changbin walked in.
"Minho! You came! Man we c-" Jisung said only to be cut off by Minho patting his head and moving him, hands at his waist.
"I came to say hi," Minho smiled, "I'm going now, I have work to do."
Jisung pouted. "It's cus Y/n is sick isn't it?"
Minho took a deep breath. "I'll see you guys tomorrow?"
When he left he made another copy of his notes in color, hole punched them, and put them in a nice folder before he went to his apartment. He stared at his phone.
"You should text her." Chan said over his shoulder.
"Why would I?" Minho looked at his friend. "Nah." He tossed his phone onto the couch and went to the kitchen and got to work making soup.
Jeongin appeared at his side. "Whatcha making?"
"It's not for you guys." Minho said, rolling his eyes.
"Then who is it for?" Chan said, looking over his shoulder.
"Yeah." Jeongin huffed.
Minho's mouth opened and he closed it again, deciding it was better to not say anything. Somehow he managed to get the food out of the apartment without either man getting it. He drove to your apartment and went up to your floor before raising his hand to knock on the door, he stopped himself.
Stop being an idiot... he thought before knocking on the door and waiting for a moment.
A girl with long hair and big eyes stared at him for a moment. "You are?" She said, leaning against the door frame.
Minho looked at her, "Lee Minho, Y/n's friend."
"Oh?" the woman got in his face. "What exactly makes you think you're Y/n's friend?"
"I- Well-" Minho stuttered.
"Doyeon."
Minho looked past the woman at you and sucked in a breath, you stood there wearing a pair of pajama pants and a baggy shirt.
"You know this guy?" the woman, Doyeon, questioned, pointing at Minho.
"He's the guy I'm doing the project with." You said, before clearing your throat and coughing in your elbow.
"Eesh, back to bed." Your roommate started ushering you back to your room and motioning for Minho to enter.
He closed the door behind him and put the food down in your kitchen but you pulled away from Doyeon and sat on the couch, arms out towards the man.
Doyeon looked between you for a moment. "I'll uh- Leave y'all to it-"
"Minho give me the damn food." Your eyes narrowed.
He smiled slightly and looked around your kitchen before finding a bowl and spoon with Doyeon's help. He got you some soup and carefully brought it to you.
You took it from him and took a cautious sip, eyes lighting up at the taste of it. "AH! Minho! You saved me! Doyeon's food was going to kill me!"
"HEY!" Your roommate huffed.
Minho laughed. "I'm glad you like it. You could've told me you were sick. We're par- friends no?"
You looked at him for a moment. "Yeah. My fault.."
He shook his head and handed you the folder. "Catch up Madam President."
You looked at the folder for a moment before looking at him, "I- thank you."
Minho somehow managed to suppress the smile that wanted to come to his face. "Yeah, whatever, just make sure you get better, taking notes is hard." He muttered.
You rolled your eyes.
After Doyeon went to bed, Minho persuaded you to also go to sleep, he made you take more medicine for your cough.
"You'll be back tomorrow or the day after?" he asked.
"The day after probably, in case I'm still contagious." You said softly.
He hummed. "I'll take good notes then."
You laughed lightly. "Thank you really.."
"The president can't fall behind because of an illness."
You smiled. "Idiot.."
He smiled gently. "Go to sleep, I'm going to leave before your friend jumps to conclusions."
You huffed a laugh. "Okay."
"Alright... Sleep well Y/nnie." He said as he left your room.
"Good night Min..."
Minho closed your bedroom door and made his way out of your apartment, making sure to lock the door before leaving. He leaned against your door as he closed it. "Dummy..." He muttered. "Relax it's good for you.." He said softly before walking down the hall to the elevator.
You did manage to come in to class the day after and you were immediately greeted by the student council in a bit of disarray because of the upcoming campus tour.
"Excuse me!" You clapped your hands to get the people's attention.
They all looked at you before Yuna jumped on you.
"OH Y/N I'M SO GLAD YOU'RE BACK!" She squealed.
"Schedule." You smiled at her.
"Yes ma'am!" She jumped into her her chair and spun for a moment before slamming her hands on her desk. "The high schoolers will be touring our campus the day after tomorrow, on Monday you have your speech in front of the administration and you have a scheduled meeting with a student later.
You nodded.
The people in the room stared at you for a brief moment.
"WELL?!" Jia shouted all of a sudden. "GET TO WORK WE CAN'T HAVE CHAOS WITH HIGH SCHOOLERS ON CAMPUS!"
The students started scrambling to get things done and you stood and went to history, greeting your teacher and apologizing for your absence before going to sit beside Minho.
"You're late." He smirked.
You checked your watch, you were three minutes later than usual. "You're suspiciously early."
"It's becoming a habit. You're rubbing off on me." He shuddered slightly.
You pushed him gently and he turned to look at you, as if asking you seriously just shoved him like that.
"I hope you don't rub off on me." You smiled.
Minho rolled his eyes.
Mrs. Jung started class and you kicked off quickly, you had to admit, Minho was a decent note taker.
After class you went to your office and fixed yourself a bit, waiting for the student who wanted to meet you. You opened your lip gloss and were in the middle of applying it to your lips when you heard a voice you dreaded to hear..
"Dolling up for me?"
You froze, looking at your mirror.
"Y/n?" Yeongsu said in a sing-song voice, you felt icky with how he drew your name out slowly, taunting you... "You haven't answered my calls, thought I'd pay you a visit." he grabbed the tiny cat figure you had on your desk.
You closed the mirror and looked at him. "Why are you here?"
"I got worried when I heard you were sick." He sighed, walking around your desk and kneeling, he tried to take your hand in his, "After all, you're my girl.."
You pulled your hand back roughly and glared down at him. "I am not yours. If you have nothing to talk about please leave."
Yeongsu cocked a brow. "I'm not one of your little student council members you can order around, Y/n." He stood.
"Leave." You said more firmly.
He reached his hand out to caress your cheek and you grabbed his wrist.
"Don't touch me," You said through grit teeth, "Leave now."
He stared at you for a long moment and you held your breath. Yeongsu pulled away and rolled his eyes, "You're still so uptight." he muttered, reaching into his pocket and taking out a cigarette. "That's fine," He looked at you. "I like it when you fight back."
You bristled.
He lit the cigarette and took a long drag, exhaling slowly. "If only they knew their perfect president ended up in my be-"
"Get out!" You shouted, springing from your seat so fast it hit the wall with a loud bang.
Jia opened the door to the office at that sound and stared in shock at Yeongsu.
He smirked taking another drag in the silence, exhaling and then whispering, "You're not all that amazing, Madam President."
You stared at your desk, trembling with rage as he walked out of the room.
"Y/n.." Seungmin ran in and stared at Yeongsu as he left before running to you. "Y/n-"
"Open the windows.." You muttered, the smoke choking you, no, the thought of that bastard choking you.
"Wh-" Jia started.
"Open a damn window!" You shouted before falling into your seat, burying you face in your hands. "Please..."
Seungmin ran to the side of the room and began opening the windows.
You took a few deep breaths, "Let's get ready for the tour..."
While finalizing the plans for the tour, Jia and Yuna left before you as most of the council did, you sent emails to the schools that would be coming and arranged for food for the students. You were so engrossed in your work you didn't notice the sky darkening and were only pulled out of your grind by the rumble of thunder.
You looked out the window as rain droplets started pelting against the window. "Crap." You looked around your desk for an umbrella and cursed as you found nothing in its usual spot.
You grabbed your stuff and shoved it into your bag before heading to the front of the school, you opened your phone about to call a cab.
"Y/nnie never has a ride does she?"
You turned and stared at Minho.
He smiled, holding up his keys.
In the car the only sounds there were was the sound of the window wipers and the quiet music on the radio.
"Let's go to my place, it's closer." He reasoned.
You looked at him. "Yeah, okay."
When you got to Minho's apartment he got out with the umbrella before going to your side and shielding you from the rain as you walked in. The elevator ride was quiet. Too quiet so you said, "We're going to keep researching."
"Yeah." He said, "Uh- My friends hang around here often. Don't mind them too much, they're a little um.. rowdy."
You nodded, "I don't mind."
Only when you got to the apartment you were surprised to see not one or two friends but three men and three cats.
One of the men looked up from something he was eating, "Minho, who's the girl?"
"Minho brought a girl home!?" A man with very chubby cheeks who you recognized immediately as Jisung poked his head out of a room, he froze when he saw you before laughing lightly and going back into the room.
"He did?!" A familiar voice said in shock.
You looked at Chan one of the fraternity presidents.
He looked at you, then Minho and back at you, "How did this happen?"
"RIGHT!?" Jisung called.
"We're here to work on a project!" Minho huffed, "Please.
"OHH!" The muscular man at the table looked a bit shocked for a moment. "We'll leave then, yea?"
"Yeah.." Minho rolled his eyes as Jisung and Chan came out of wherever they were and gathered their stuff.
As they were leaving the muscular man shouted, "USE PROTECTION!"
Your face got hot and you turned to the door.
"CHANGBIN!" Minho shouted.
"SORRY! Leaving now!" He called back before he finally left.
You looked at him. "Let's get to work shall we?"
He laughed slightly and motioned to the sitting area.
"Your cats are cute." You said as a dark colored striped cat came up to you.
"That's Dori." he said as you pet the cat. "Soonie." He motioned to a white and orange cat laying on the floor, "Doongie." He pointed at the last cat which was walking over to Minho.
"The names are cute." You hum as you let Dori run off.
"Someone called them old fashioned..." Minho rolled his eyes.
"Who?"
"No one important. Let's get to work."
For the most part you and Minho worked very diligently and then your phone buzzed, you gave it a glance before it buzzed again and you frowned turning it on its face to ignore it. It buzzed again and you huffed, grabbing the device.
You saw the instagram messages and rolled your eyes.
You hum and put your phone down.
"What?" Minho asks.
"Nothing." You shrug.
Parties with Hae-joo were... a lot... especially since Hae-joo was such good friends with Yeongsu.. 'For old times sake' worried you. Did Yeongsu put her up to it?
You jumped as Minho flicked your cheek. "HEY!"
"Pay attention." He rolled his eyes.
You hummed and looked back at your work.
"Is there any particular place you like?" Minho looked up from his computer.
"Not really no." You shrugged. "Maybe my bed."
He rolled his eyes. "The beach?"
"Never been." You said looking at your computer.
"HUH!?" he blinked in shock. "It's like an hour away!"
"I never have time I'm always working or sleeping. or both." You laughed lightly. "I didn't live too close to a beach when I was a kid either."
"I'll take you one day."
You stopped typing. "You serious? I don't need to go-"
"Its really pretty there. At the beach I mean.. especially at night."
You noticed the way he smiled slightly.
"Friend of mine took me and" He sat up and started typing. "It's just really nice."
"I'll consider visiting." You laughed.
That night Minho was scrolling on instagram when he got a message from Jisung.
The first thing Minho thought about was how the heck YOU of all people would actually go to a party like that.
The tour began early, the moment the high schoolers arrived you made sure everyone was on their best behavior. As you showed the students around the classrooms and lecture hall, you noticed him watching you from his seat in his accounting class.
Yeongsu was watching you as you told the high schoolers about the class before motioning for them to follow you out. You came to your history class and greeted Mrs. Jung, explaining the touring high schoolers and then you explained the class and it content and why it was a mandatory class.
"We'll continue now," You said about to leave, as you ushered the students out, Minho came down from his seat and grabbed your arm gently.
"Are you coming over later?" He asked.
You blinked a bit stunned, "No, I have to get ready for my meeti-"
He made a face, "We need to finish the project,"
"We have a few more days. It's fine." You smiled and pulled away.
"Is he your boyfriend?" One of the high schoolers asked.
Your mouth fell open, "I-"
Minho looked at you and smirked, "She's a very close friend, we're not dating."
"Oh," the student said.
You cringed as one of the girls gave Minho her number on a slip of paper. "Let's continue."
Minho looked at you and laughed lightly.
After classes you were in the student council office and you decided to visit Hyunjin in the dance studio. You opened the door and blinked a few times in confusion at someone fixing Hyunjin's stance.
"It's ugly." The person said. That voice was familiar...
"AGH! HOW!" Hyunjin fumed.
"Stand like this!" The person stood the supposed proper way.
"THATS HOW I W-" Hyunjin's mouth froze as he saw you.
"What?" Minho stared at you in shock for a moment.
"You like dancing?" You smiled slightly.
Hyunjin grinned devilishly behind Minho and tried to run away but the older man grabbed him and dragged him back.
"Yeah." He cleared his throat. "Is that a problem prez?"
You made a face. "No. Not at all. You should teach me sometime." You walked around a bit. "I just came to say hi... I'll go. Leave you guys to fix that."
Hyunjin tried to pull away from Minho who held him tightly by the forearm. "SAVE ME!" He mouthed.
You rolled your eyes and left.
At the party, it wasn't surprising that majority of the students were acting like it was a club, you squeezed through the crowd and looked around a bit.
"Ain't no way the president herself came to a party like this."
You turned and rolled your eyes at your friend Hongjoong, "Long time no see."
"How could you ever see any of us if you're always cooped up in that student council office?" A tall dark-haired man threw an arm around Hongjoong.
"You act like I'm there 24/7 Hwa." You laughed.
"We never see you anymore." He shrugged, "You don't want to associate with the riffraff of your past huh?"
"You aren't riffraff," You sighed, grabbing a soda from a table as you continued walking, "I just decided to grow up a bit."
The loud music shook the whole house and you felt it vibrating through you as you walked. You opened the soda can and took a quick sip.
"Y/N!"
You turned to the voice and smiled at Hae-joo, "Hey."
She hugged you, "Didn't think you'd actually come..."
"I didn't either, looking for a fr-" You stopped half way through your sentence and stared at Yeongsu, who was smoking in the corner with his guys, staring at you.
Hae-Joo's eyes followed yours. "He won't bother you, I made him promi-"
"Since when has he kept a promise." You took another sip of your soda.
"Come on, everyone's waiting for you." Hae-joo dragged you to the kitchen, all your old friends were there, laughing and smiing and drinking.
San was the first to notice you. "Y/N" He put down his drink and hugged you tightly.
"Hey! Hey-" You squeaked as everyone else piled on you.
"Give the girl a break. You'll crush her." Yunho rolled his eyes and smiled, "Good to see you."
You and your friends caught up when you noticed him as he walked in with Jisung and Chan. You left your friends for a moment and started walking over to him. His dark eyes met yours through the crowd and your heart skipped a beat.
He walked over to you and laughed slightly as he looked you over, "First time I've seen you dressed in something other than business casual or pajamas."
You made a face, "I'm not always dressed business casual."
"You always look uptight." He motioned to the crop top. "It's a good look on you."
Your face got hot and he looked at someone talking to him for a moment. You left Minho there and went back to your friends, you huffed as you noticed they were no longer in the kitchen.
You picked up your soda and took a sip after you finished the can you noticed that your head felt a little foggy like you were drunk. You stumbled slightly, it was a fucking soda. Unless.. you cursed under your breath, why had you left it unattended.
You stumbled and almost fell over, someone caught you and you were about to apologize when you saw the tattoo on his wrist and pulled away.
"Y/n, are you alright?" Yeongsu reached for you and you shook your head. You needed to leave, you needed to find Minho.
You pushed past the sweaty, dancing bodies and found tipsy Hyunjin and Chan.
"Y/n?" Chan stood, completely alert suddenly, "You drank?"
You shook your head, "Where's Minho?"
"I haven't seen him, do you need to lea-"
You pulled away and ran looking around you went up the steps and looked around at the drunk students, then as you entered a room you saw them. Minho, Jisung, and several other people you didn't recognize, you're heart stopped as you took in the position Minho was in.
A girl sat on his lap, taking turns with him at a cigarette. You watched as the smoke clouded up as Minho exhaled. The girl giggled and was practically rubbing herself all over him. Your breath picked up and you felt tears clouding your vision.
Minho looked at the door and his eyes widened slightly at the sight of you. Your eyes met and you shook your head before you took off running.
Minho came out of the room looking around the party. Where had you run off to.. You weren't the type to drink. At least he didn't think you were. You looked scared.
"Y/N!" He pushed past some people in the party then he heard someone.
"Y/N JUST RAN OFF!" a guy groaned.
Minho turned slowly.
"YEONGSU!" Hyunjin...?
Minho stared at his friend who had another guy by the collar.
"What did you do?" Hyunjin said lowly.
"My friend put something in her drink nothing bad-"
Minho saw red. "WHAT!?"
Hyunjin released Yeongsu and backed up as Minho stalked towards them.
Yeongsu stared at Minho, "What? You want to fight me? I didn't think she'd run out like th-"
Minho punched him hard.
You lay in bed staring at your ceiling as your phone rang for what felt like the hundredth time, maybe it was, you weren't counting.
"Girl.." Doyeon whispered as she walked into your room with (fav flavor) ice cream. "What happened?"
"Maybe I'm stupid, Doyeon..." You muttered.
Doyeon looked at your phone as it rang again, Minho's contact flashing across the screen. "Did he-"
"Him and Yeongsu aren't that different." You rolled away from her.
"Y/n.." Doyeon hugged you, "You don't need a guy, you've got me and Jia and Yuna... Hell even your guy friends."
You stared blankly at the wall.
"Y'know what, we're going to cheer you up, right now." She dragged you into a sitting position and opened the tub of ice cream, "The student council president is the strongest most independent woman I know, and she is the last person to beat herself up over a boy."
You stared at your friend. "Y-Yeah."
"Come on." She held up two spoons, "We can watch that show you wanted to try."
You walked into the student council office the following Monday and sat in your chair. "Yuna, schedule."
"We have a general meeting today and that's it." She said.
"Uh huh."
Jia's computer dinged. "You have a student meeting today."
"Schedule it for after lunch." You said, you walked into history class and turned in your paper on the Roman empire, you felt a twist in your gut, Minho wrote this with you.
You went to your seat and pulled out your computer, as class began you took notice of how Minho wasn't late... he never came.
You pushed down the worry in your gut and dragged yourself to lunch then the student council office. On your way you saw Jisung in the hall, he looked at you for a moment before turning back to the person he spoke to. You got into your office and stared at your phone, the notifications from Minho had piled up,you scrolled through the message notifications of "I'm sorry", "Answer", and "We need to talk".
You put your phone down as the door opened and you stared at Yeongsu. He smirked as he closed the door, "Heard your little boyfriend had a bit of trouble." You noticed the black eye he had.
Trouble... what trouble could Minho be in? "He's not my boyfriend," You said. "What can I do for you, Yeongsu?"
"Come on Y/n. Let's think logically here, you like when I do that." He walked around the desk and behind your chair. "Minho is in the same boat I am, maybe he's got a little heart. Maybe he's tryna crawl out of the pit we're in. But the same way you went to that party after you said you were done with us, he's fucking around with other girls because it's in his mind. You can take the person away from their habit. But you can't take the habit away from a person, Y/n..."
You stared at your desk. "What do you know..." You muttered as you looked at your phone on the desk. A notification from Jisung came on the screen.
"Huh?" he turned your chair to face him. "Think about it Y/n, you came back, you haven't changed deep down and neither has he."
"What do you know?" You looked up at him speaking a bit louder.
"Y/n."
"I'm asking 'What do you know?' what do you know about change that I don't? For you to educate me?" You stood and glared at him. "I'm different, I'm uptight, I'm reserved, I don't trust anyone! But I trust him. I've seen him change, I know he's not perfect, he's tempted all the time, he makes mistakes! He's human. He's more human than you will ever be." You pointed a finger in Yeongsu's face and said lowly. "So don't tell me he'll never be better. Leave." You pointed to the door.
Yeongsu stared down at you. "You think he's that good for you huh.."
Your eyes narrowed.
He didn't say anything more and left the room. You stood there and shakily exhaled before grabbing your phone and looking at the messages from Jisung.
You ran as fast as you could to the front of the school and called a cab, when it arrived the guy looked at you in the rearview mirror. "Where to?"
"Beach please.." You said frantically.
"Lady the beach is like an hour from here-"
You threw a wad of twenties to the front of the car. "Is that enough?"
The guy opened his mouth then closed it before turning on the engine again and looking at you, "Buckle up."
You gave him another twenty, "Make it fast."
When you got to the parking you waved the driver off and looked around, you ran to the sand and searched. You ran a bit and stumbled looking around you moved to get your phone and called Minho. It went straight to voicemail and you screamed running further into the beach looking for him, anything, his car, his jacket, anything..
You fell and gasped as you noticed that your heels were digging into the back of your ankle. You sat down and stared at your phone, the last message from Minho was from the morning. You took off your shoes and winced. Remembering how Minho had given you those slippers and told you to wear more comfortable shoes.
Your eyes filled with tears as you called him again, it went straight to voicemail. You were about to throw your phone into the sand when you heard the soft sound of sound shifting beneath someone's feet.
"Didn't I tell you to wear comfier shoes.." Minho said softly, he kneeled in front of you, taking your feet gently in his hands.
You stared at him, tears starting to fall from you eyes, "I was rushing.."
He looked up at your face and smiled softly. "You crying prez?"
You wiped your face and punched him. "I WAS WORRIED!"
"I thought you didn't want to see me anymore, I messed up, you wer-"
You kissed him hard.
He blinked in shock for a moment as you pulled away.
"Don't scare me like that!" You punched his chest again.
"I'm sorry.." He whispered. "For everything."
You stared at him for a moment before hugging him tightly. "I hate you."
He smiled and hugged you back. "I love you, too.."
Minho picked you up on his back and carried you back to where he parked his car. He got you in and drove to a small convenience store, buying you bandages for your feet and some slippers. He sat you on a bench outside and carefully put the bandages on the blisters on your feet.
You watched him for a while. "Who was that girl..."
"Which girl?" He looked up for a moment.
"The one who was on your lap." You muttered.
He looked up at you. "Y/n," he looked apologetic. "I don't even know her..."
You smiled slightly, "So she isn't important?"
He smiled. "Were you jealous?"
"NO!" You looked away, cheeks burning.
"I like someone a lot more than a random hoe.." He put the slippers on your feet.
You spun to look at him. "Who?"
He rolled his eyes and stood, bending to be eye level with you. "You, Madam President." He kissed your forehead gently.
You stared at him.
"It's late, let's go back, hm?" he helped you to your feet and led you back to the car.
You finally checked your phone after it buzzed for what felt like the millionth time.
"Do you want to go back?" Minho looked at you, before looking back at the road, "We have class tomorrow."
"I already turned in the paper." You said, putting your phone down. "We can go back tomorrow.."
Minho looked at your hands on the console, "Yeah..." He reached over and took your hand in his, giving it a soft squeeze.
You walked into the student council office to see Jia and Yuna talking to Yeongsu.
He noticed your presence first and quickly got up. "Y/N!" He walked over to you, reaching for you.
You took a step back. "Explain." You looked at the girls.
"We thought he'd know where you were." Jia said.
"Where were y-" Yuna started.
"With me." Minho walked in and smiled at Yeongsu.
Yuna and Jia stared at you.
Yeongsu opened his mouth to say something but stopped as Minho put an arm around you.
"You are?" He stared at Yeongsu.
Yeongsu closed his mouth and walked out.
Seungmin looked at Yeongsu walking out as he walked in, took in the sight in front of him and rounded on his heel. "Good luck with that."
"I KNEW IT!" Yuna pointed at you two.
You rolled your eyes.
"Coffee?" Minho whispered in your ear, "You don't want to be late."
"Why so uptight?" You raised a brow at him.
He rolled his eyes and smiled as he dragged you out.
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Hey girl found your blog and loving it so far
Can I request a yandere alhaitham forcing a marriage while making it seems he is not (does that even make sense 😭)
Hi friend! I could be wrong, but I think you're asking to be gaslit and manipulated. In which case, I got you.
It's What You Wanted
Yandere! Alhaitham x Reader
The papers in front of you had this foreboding energy around them, like you were doing something wrong, even though it was something you agreed to. Or maybe it was the ramifications of them, the papers themselves weren't scary, they were just pages after all, but it was what they meant. What they represented for you.
His name was already signed on one side in his usual neat, cursive penmanship. The other line lay blank, empty, and waiting for your name next. Your name. You. It was just waiting for you to finish it.
“Well?” He questioned into the silence that sat over the both of you. He was always so nonchalant and today was no different. One leg crossed on the other and a book sat over his knee, keeping the pages open for him to begin reading again. He was treating this as if it wasn't a major decision for him, life changing even, but that energy suited his character.
You picked up the pen, but it felt heavy in your hand and you trembled, making you sit it back down, “Don't you think this is a bit of a bad decision, Alhaitham?” You questioned with a little sweat on your brow.
“You're the one who came up with the idea,” he retorted.
You opened your mouth to defend yourself, but shut it again. What he was talking about was an offhanded comment you'd made at the table a few days ago. After a night of drinking and complaining about having to return home, at the wishes of your mother and father, you drunkenly complained on and on about your problems. Once your term was over at the academia, they expected you to be on your way back home, despite your wishes to stay.
Your parents, being the old fashioned people that they were, wouldn't listen to your word, but the word of your husband? That's what mattered most in the world to them. You muttered something about actually wishing you were married for once, how it'd make it easier for your parents to actually listen to you, but didn't say much else.
You remembered seeing Alhaitham raise an eyebrow over the cover of his book at that and take another small sip of his drink, but other than that, nothing more was said about the comment. Not until now.
“But…would this even be okay with you? This is marriage,” you tried to press the importance of this to him, but his green eyes didn't even seem phased. He was always so hard to read, unless he outright said it, you never knew what he was thinking.
“You want to stay, don't you?” His words made your stomach drop. He was right, you did want to stay. You wanted to live in Sumeru for as long as possible. You wanted to keep studying and learning. You wanted to be close to your friends.
“I do, but…”
“You should just sign it,” he pushed the paper on the table closer to you once more, “It’s better you do this with me than some random guy who'll just use this against you. Think logically.”
You sighed and looked down at the blank space. Your name was to go there, but your hesitance was eating you alive. This didn't feel right. The idea, while a fun one in theory, was one that you wouldn't be able to get yourself out of easily.
Before you had the chance to think about it more, the page was picked up. Your eyes followed it as he held it in his hands and stood from the table. He didn't look at you once as he did this, the lack of acknowledgement making your heart drop to your stomach.
“What are you doing?” You questioned rather hurriedly, surprising even yourself.
“Destroying this,” was all he said, a hint of boredom in his voice again, “It's obvious that you want to go back home with your parents, so there's no reason to keep it around. I can't risk anyone taking it and having my signature.”
The speed at which everything was happening made your mind spiral out of control. All the emotions you were feeling swirled together, crashing inside your head until all that was left was fear. Fear of having to leave, fear of losing your freedom, the fear that your last chance was just going to walk away.
“No! Wait!” You shouted and Alhaitham stopped in his tracks, “I'll- I'll sign it.” The words felt like an anchor on your chest, but you knew they were what you had to do. He was right. You didn't want to go back to your parents.
He placed the page back in front of you, but instead of sitting back down, he stood beside you. His large body hovered over yours, casting a shadow that felt even more ominous. You could feel the heat coming off of him making your skin prickle up with goosebumps.
Alhaitham picked up the pen for you, his touch was gentle as he handed it to you. His finger tips brushed across yours, his touch lingering a bit longer than it should've.
Your hand shook the entire time you wrote. Your name was scribbled, but it was yours. You'd signed it. You thought you'd breathe a sigh of relief, of joy knowing that you'd done it, you'd secured your freedom, but instead you still felt that suffocating pressure.
He picked the paper up before you could change your mind, “I'll get this registered,”
“But we'll get it annulled after talking to my parents, right?” You asked a bit neverously, a feeling of dread sinking it.
“Sure,” he responded, it sounded like his usual monotone voice or at least he was trying to make it seem that way. He was still facing away from you, so you didn't know for sure, but a part of you could swear you were hearing a smirk in his voice.
#genshin#genshin x reader#yandere genshin#yandere genshin x reader#yandere x reader#yandere genshin impact#yandere x you#yandere alhaitham#yandere Alhaitham x reader#alhaitham x reader
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OKG OMG CATMAN DILF PRACTICING HIS SIGNATURE OVER AND OVER FOR GOLDENRETRIEVER READER ASKIN FOR AN AUTOGRAPH- OMGOMG
Yan Ex-Idol Catman + Fan Golden Retriever Hybrid Reader
-
He's done it a million times before. This should be easy-
"Maybe it's time for me to move again."
Moving cost outweigh the humiliation. He can always find another house near a park or school. One so close to either is hard to find around these parts, but he'll manage. The neighbors, on the other hand... It'd be hard to find anyone like that sweet mutt next door.
"Shit...." The feline scratches behind his ears - molars nawing at the plastic heart glued to the pen grasped in his fist. Torn scraps of notebook paper flutter to the carpeted floor around him as he props his arms up on the table - written signatures of differing scale and quality penned on each. If he could rewind the clock a decade or so - and used a pen with better ink, he'd have done it right the first time. All he had at he desk where the glittery pens his daughter left behind during her last visit. The kind that only seemed to work every other stroke. Had he really sunk so low to blame the inability to write his own name on a cheap pen? Why was he even doing this anyway? The day he quit, he swore he'd live his life for his fans no longer. Why go through all this effort now?
"Makariy!!!"
Fingernails claw at his front door. Makariy closes the notebook, tucking it beneath the couch cushions as he climbs up into the furniture. He pauses briefly to check his shirt for stains before speaking.
"It's open."
A gust of wind scatters more pages across the living room floor as the door is ripped out. While he may have hide the book, the physical evidence was still present. He brushes a few of the notes beneath the couch as you enter - trotting up to the coffee table where you drop a fatter stack of paper.
"I brought your mail, made you some lunch, and.... Are those?....."
Kneeling, you gather up some of the pages off the floor. The accelerating wag of your tail creates a small vacuum to which the remainder are sucked into. You snatch them up as well - bouncing on your heels from all the excitement coursing through your veins.
"Are these the signatures I asked you for?" Your voice comes out in quick exhalations - barely sparing a breath between each word. "I mean I only asked you for one, but I can have these too right?! Wait, are they for other people? I'm sorry for being greedy if they are, I just didn't think you'd actually do this for me! Thank you, thank you, thank you- Sir!
Makariy jumps up out of his seat as you bow at his feet. He pulls you off your knees, dragging you up onto the couch as he hears you digging underneath for the other scraps s he hid. "Hey, hey- What did I tell you about that Sir, shit. I'm just your neighbor, got it?
"I know, Si- Makariy. It's just not everyday you mean the lead singer for your favorite idol group. Let alone have him as your neighbor. I hope the food I brought will make up for my outburst."
You have to be conscious of it by now. Even you can't be this oblivious. If you continue to look at him with those eyes there's no way he'll be able to get out of this neighborhood anytime in the near future. There's no telling when the wonder in them will fade once you realize he's nothing like he was back then... He's not sure if his heart can take it.
"You're fine. Just stay for once instead of running off when I start eating. Why do you do that anyway?"
"Just trying to respect your privacy, Sir! Ack- I did it again, and didn't I....."
Oh well... Better to enjoy things while they last.
#Makariy my oc#yandere oc#yandere x reader#yandere headcanons#yandere imagines#yandere x you#yandere insert#yandere blurb#male yandere#yandere scenarios#yandere#yandere hybrid#yandere drabble
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January
word count; 953 – f!reader
Bokuto Kotaro learned his lesson last semester; he could not leave studying until the last minute. Thus, he begrudgingly put on an extra layer of clothes and walked through the snow to the library. He took a seat by a table in the back after smiling at the woman who occupied the other end. Outside the window, snow was falling slowly, and Bokuto wished he had enjoyed it more on his walk there before shaking his head and opening his books. Then he picked up a pen, which is where the struggles started rolling in. He could never figure out how to learn, which is why he ended up writing out words he didn't understand with no purpose for hours (minutes) on end.
You quickly had to look up again at the man who joined you at the table, and not just because of his handsome face. He was making a lot of noises and pressed his pencil down so hard that the paper moved and rattled along with the table. How were you supposed to focus like this? It wasn't long until you picked up your books and stood from your seat.
Bokuto looked up with an apologetic expression on his face, thinking you wanted to leave, but it quickly turned to surprise when you sat down across from him instead. "Hey, I'm y/n." His body got stuck in a seemingly shaken state. You looked at him expectantly until you decided to keep talking and picked up his notebook. "Wow, I don't know what any of this means." A chuckle left your mouth, and he finally gathered his thoughts.
"Me neither. I'm Bokuto." You happily shook hands and kept talking for the rest of the hour. An hour might have been a bit too long for a study break, but it was only January after all. "-I also like drawing, but there won't be any time for that this semester if I can't figure out how to learn stuff and actually remember it later."
"Why don't you draw it, then? Two birds, one stone," you said, pitch going up in the excitement of helping your new friend. "I draw all my notes. Writing is so boring and does nothing for me." Bokuto looked at your notes when you showed him the pages covered in different drawings and colours. He couldn't help but think that even though he couldn't tell what you studied, he kind of understood what the page tried to teach him. Are you some sort of guardian angel?
"That's brilliant."
You and Bokuto met at the library a few more times, and you watched him become more confident with his studying. You peeked at the pages sometimes, and he even inspired you with his little arrows and other additions to help remember. One day when you sat across from each other, you noticed that his hair kept falling in his eyes. He hadn’t had the time to gel it, nor cut it lately, and it had grown quite fast. Rummaging through your bag, you found a small scrunchie and placed it on the table between you. "Here, take this." He looked up wide-eyed, glancing at it and then back to you before shaking his head.
"Thanks, but I don't think so. I'll look stupid," he whispered while leaning slightly over the table.
You shrugged your shoulders and went back to your notes. "Suit yourself." After a couple of minutes passed, you saw a hand reach out and grab the scrunchie. Amused eyes stayed on him with a fond smile as Bokuto gathered some hair on top of his head and secured it with your hair tie. Because the sun had gone down outside, Bokuto could turn to the window and easily see his reflection, a burst of childish laughter bubbling in his throat at the sight of his hair. You could only watch him from your side of the table, shaking your head and sighing affectionately.
"I don't think I can read another word," Bokuto admitted hours later and closed his book. "I've had enough for today." You chuckled and nodded in agreement. You both began packing up your stuff, standing up to get the last books into your bags. When that was successful, you looked at each other and frowned. Bokuto seemed frozen with a blank expression.
"Bokuto? You okay there, bud?"
"Huh? Yes." He still looked like he was thinking about something, contemplating. Instead of keeping you waiting anymore, he just asked. "Want to hang out sometime?"
You smiled at him, taken off guard but happy he asked. "Sure, what do you want to do?" Bokuto had not thought about that part. What do you ask a woman to do? What's normal? He said "Hang out", where do men and women just hang out? His mind quickly tried to figure out an answer, and the first thing that came to mind was-
"Maybe a morning run? Would be nice to have some company." He grinned at you, satisfied that he didn't say anything too weird. You squinted at him, confused about the unexpected suggestion. I'm not exactly a runner.
"That sounds fun. When?"
"7 a.m.? I have a class at 10." You pushed away any negative thoughts when he smiled so innocently.
“That works. Meet you outside the main entrance at 7 a.m. tomorrow,” you repeated to check that you had all the facts, also realising how early 7 a.m. was for running.
"Cool." Bokuto bounced on the balls of his feet, looking like he was re-energised by the agreed hang-out. "See you, y/n!" He quickly turned around and walked out of the library, roses on his cheeks before he even got outside.
The Schoolyear Series ║ masterlist
#The Schoolyear Series#haikyuu x reader#haikyu x reader#haikyuu#hq x reader#fanfiction#haikyuu x you#hq#haikyu#haikyuu fluff#haikyu fluff#bokuto koutaro#bokuto koutarou#haikyuu bokuto#hq bokuto#bokuto x reader#bokuto kotaro#bokuto#bokuto kotaro x reader#bokuto koutaro x reader#bokutou
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Unspoken Rivalry
ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ x ɢɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | 2.
ʜᴇʀᴇ'ꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2 ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴜʏꜱ ʙᴇɢɢᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀ
ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ, ʜᴇʀᴇ ɪᴛ ɪꜱ
─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───
At seven on the dot, Viktor arrived, looking annoyingly perfect as always. He raised an eyebrow when you opened the door, his gaze sweeping over you in your casual study clothes. "Comfortable," he said, the corner of his mouth twitching.
"Shut up and get in here," you muttered, stepping aside to let him in. For the first hour, things were surprisingly civil. You both worked, debating theories and counterpoints without the usual venom. But as the clock ticked on, the familiar tension crept back in.
"I don't think your argument holds," Viktor said, leaning closer to point at your notes.
"It absolutely does," you countered, leaning in as well. You were close now, too close. His voice softened.
"You're so stubborn."
"And you're insufferable," you shot back, but your voice wavered. His gaze dropped to your lips for just a second, but it was enough. The room felt impossibly small, the air thick with everything you weren't saying.
"Tell me to leave," he murmured, his voice barely audible. You didn't. Instead, you did the one thing you'd been trying not to think about for months-you closed the gap, your lips crashing against his.
It wasn't gentle. It was messy and heated, all the pent-up frustration spilling over in a way that felt inevitable. His hands were on your waist, pulling you closer, and for once, you didn't care about winning or losing. When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing hard. Viktor's smirk was back, but this time, it was softer.
"Well," he said, his voice teasing, "I think we just redefined collaboration."
"Shut up," you muttered, but you couldn't hide your smile as you pulled him back in.
The kiss left the air between you charged, humming with an energy neither of you could quite contain. Viktor stayed close, his forehead resting against yours, a rare moment of vulnerability flickering in his usually guarded eyes.
"I can’t decide if I hate this," you whispered, your voice breathless.
Viktor chuckled, low and rough, his hand still lingering on your waist.
"Hate it all you want. You didn’t seem to mind a second ago."
You glared up at him, but the effect was ruined by the warmth spreading across your face.
"We have a paper to finish."
"Do we?" He tilted his head, his voice dropping just slightly. "Because right now, I can think of about ten other things we could be doing."
Your heart stuttered, but you pushed at his chest—firmly, this time. He stepped back, though the cocky grin never left his face.
"You’re impossible," you said, turning back to your laptop.
"And yet, you kissed me."
You refused to dignify that with a response. Instead, you threw yourself into the work, hyper-focused on crafting the perfect argument. Viktor, to his credit, followed your lead, though you could feel his gaze on you more often than not.
Occasionally, he’d offer a suggestion, his voice soft and annoyingly confident. Occasionally, you’d brush his hand when reaching for a book or a pen. Occasionally, you’d catch yourself glancing at his lips when he wasn’t looking.
By the time the clock struck midnight, the draft was nearly complete. The tension, however, hadn’t eased—it had only deepened, simmering just beneath the surface.
"You’re actually a decent partner," you admitted grudgingly, leaning back in your chair.
"High praise," Viktor said, smirking as he stretched. "Coming from you, that almost sounds like a compliment."
"Don’t push it," you warned, though there was no heat behind the words.
He stood, gathering his things with a languid ease that made you irrationally annoyed. How could someone look so effortlessly put-together after hours of work?
"Same time tomorrow?" he asked, his tone casual. But there was something in his eyes—something expectant.
You hesitated, your mind racing. It would have been so easy to say no, to shut this down before it spiraled any further. But you didn’t.
"Same time," you said quietly.
Viktor’s smirk softened into something almost resembling a real smile. He lingered for a moment before heading for the door.
As it clicked shut behind him, you exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.
This was going to be a long two weeks.
─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───
To be continueeedddd........
Part 3 ? Maybe ?
tagged : @haskellstwro @kindadolly @clearlycaffeinated-blog @viktors-final-glorious-ovulation @amara-1 @snoopy-dogg @rinisfruity14 @abitopiia @luv-urself-first
#viktor smut#arcane viktor#arcane imagine#arcane x reader#arcane#arcane smut#imagine#viktor arcane#viktor x reader#viktor my beloved#supernovalcholism
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Devil's Trumpet
AKA the Appalachian horror brain worms would not leave me alone
Summary: You move to small town West Virginia to get your head on straight but the men in the woods start unravelling you instead.
Words: 3.5k
CWs: mild horror, vague reference to mental illness
This is best read while listening to some Southern gothic tunes 🎶 I suggest Big Dark Love by Murder by Death!
Colour leeched out of the world here. There is something almost comforting about that, something familiar. Familiar too is the way this town moves like syrup too thick to be pleasant in your mouth. It was how you moved though the world once. Not anymore though, no, now your mind is your own and not an invading force. Now you can appreciate the drab slowness as something external to yourself, just an environment around you and not a prison closing in inside your head.
There wasn’t much of a plan really. A will reading that left you with not a lot, but enough to get the hell out. Signing with a fountain pen that made your skin crawl with how it scratched. A stiff drink and a dart thrown at a map and tearing a ragged hole in the Greenbrier River as the sharp point didn’t quite sink far enough into the board and tore its way through the paper on the way down. You were never any good at darts.
You aren’t putting down roots. Those were for old growth, not for hardy weeds that broke through concrete and always found another crack through which to grow when killed. Nothing that felt too much like a home, so instead a room at the only inn.
This town is too small to warrant one, but it doubles as a watering hole come evening. It doesn’t seem to have been updated in an age, you wonder idly if the plaque upkept to a gleaming shine declaring the inn to have been opened in 1824 is somehow conveying pride at the fact. The peeling wallpaper in your room was probably pretty once, but the green now seems sick with age and the delicate floral pattern has started to wilt.
There is no routine to your days here until one slowly creeps in as it always does.
Breakfast first. You don’t know if it’s something in the air here, but you wake up with a bitter taste in your mouth and are eager to drown it in food and mint toothpaste. The inn has a small kitchenette for guest use and you make yourself toast with butter and strawberry jam. It’s a little too sweet but the tea helps, black with no sugar.
You stretch out the back of the inn and enjoy the view of the woods. You don’t call it yoga because it makes you less likely to do it, but you had learned when things were bad that quietly engaging your body in the morning was a good way to quiet your mind. There’s a little tension in the back of your neck you try to work out but it sticks there until you finish up and go back inside to shower. The hot water fixes it you think.
The first few weeks here you just sit and watch the world go by, but then you one day you decide to get up and spend some time wandering the town. It’s small, decrepit. There is the inn, a few sparse houses, one general store. The library, despite being the only venue with any chance of entertainment, is usually empty. You meet Mrs Lela Kaletaws who runs it, although she isn’t always around.
Roads here are barely holding together, but the one main road that runs out of town is at least in somewhat better condition. It runs parallel with the woods at one point, curving off just past old Mr Kleer's house. The man in question usually sits on his porch but he’s friendly enough so you don’t pay much mind to the gun.
After you’ve wandered town you make sandwiches for lunch. It isn’t much exciting, but it is routine and is filling enough that you bunker down for a nap after.
In the afternoon you go for a long walk before returning to the inn for dinner. There is a bar downstairs that opens in the evenings and serves food that while not a delicacy by any means is hot and filling. You retire to your room, read some of your book and go to sleep.
It continues that way. Breakfast, stretch, shower, wander, lunch, sleep, walk, dinner, read, sleep.
At first you only really skirt the edge of the woods, but with each passing dreary day you venture closer to the depths down the packed dirt path. The path through the woods is confusing and unmarked. Where you swore just yesterday it went to the right, today it goes to the left. Even so it must be your sense of direction, because the path always leads you past the jimsonweeds that come up to you chest before spitting you out on the road that leads to old Mr Kleer's house. The flowers are beautiful, but there is some metallic tang to their otherwise sweet scent that causes your teeth to ache.
—
More comfortable with the area now, it causes a fright when you see a man in the woods just in the corner of your eye only to snap your head around and have him vanish. You force calming breathes and keep walking. There is no such thing as ghosts in these woods.
Old man Axell calls to you from his porch as you pass, rifle butt settled on the rickety wood that you worry will collapse and left leg stretched straight out towards you like reaching for something.
“Seeing things in the woods kid?”
“I look spooked sir?”
“Like you’ve seen a Ghost I reckon.”
You give a shaky laugh at that.
“Only if ghosts come in flesh and blood and quick feet. Some man gave me a fright is all.”
“Must be out of towners” Axell says.
You do not like the way he says it. You do not like that he looks at you strangely. But you smile and nod and get on your way. He is only an old man.
—
There is someone in the woods. You feel his gaze on you, feel the dull prickle that rests on your nape from those eyes.
“We really must stop meeting like this” you say.
You have stopped trying to catch him. Now you only speak, eyes set on the dirt path in front of you. You do not think you will get a reply and when you do you shudder horribly at how much closer the voice is than you had anticipated.
“Don’t enjoy the company?”
He’s English and you frown. Out of towner. The old man must know something, but maybe you cannot begrudge him having fun at your expense. You have not made friends here.
“Enjoy company where I can see it if it’s all the same to you.”
The man laughs. It is a confusing laugh, warm and cold all at once as it bounces through the trees.
“Careful what you wish for.”
You resist the urge to turn even as his voice moves strangely, like he is swaying from one side of the path to the other.
“Must have a face like sin to keep hiding away” you say.
The next words you can feel. His breath is right at your cheek, a strand of your hair lifted by his fingers.
“Quite the opposite.”
Your heart is a prey animal running from a predator, beating wildly against your ribs as you turn to find he isn’t there. Only you certainly felt him. He leaves a sweet smell behind.
—
Sleep does not come easily that night. The rain against your window casts the moonlight strangely into your room. You spend hours watching as the creeping vines on the wallpaper seem to twist and shift beneath the moon flowers. When you finally fall asleep, it is almost as if you can smell them. Sweet and slightly metallic.
You wake up with the fading scent of damp earth and something on the edge of rot in your nose and the feel of dirt packed uncomfortably under your nails. They’re clean you find, but you spend the start of the morning cutting them down once you see the fading scratches left on your arms and legs through the night.
—
He is not the only stranger in the woods. You swore you would not go back, but routine takes you there without thought.
The Scottish man likes to walk on your right hand side, just enough steps behind you that you can only see him at the very side of your vision. You think he is handsome, but it is difficult to be sure. What you can be sure of is that he is dressed oddly. You have spoken to him for a while now, discussing yourself mostly. Perhaps it is the eerie quiet of the woods that makes you want to fill the dead space, but you tell him more about yourself than you ever would have thought yourself comfortable with.
“Are you a soldier then?” you ask.
“Sometimes, I think.”
You take a moment to chew that answer, wonder at the taste of it. There is a panic when you smell blood on the air, but it is quickly blanketed by sweetness. You have reached the jimsonweeds. It is too early, you have not walked far enough to be here already. But before you can protest the steps to your right stop and you know the man is gone.
None of them ever come farther than this.
—
You try the next day and the next to get answers from him. He seems to make a decision at one point just as the familiar smell reaches you and you think you will leave with no more information than you had before.
“I’m SAS.”
He is not there when you turn to thank him. He is not there at all when you return the next day.
—
The library run by Mrs Kaletaws is added to your routine. Breakfast, stretch, shower, library, lunch, try to sleep, walk, dinner, read, try to sleep. The small building has the peculiar addition of a cat you never quite see. You hear the skitter of claws on worn wood floor that has started to smell of sickly sweet rot, see fading scratches on the legs and arms of the chair, find hairs on your clothing, feel the prickle of eyes focused on you from the dark running up your spine to settle dully on the back of your neck. You have tried before to get a glimpse of the creature, but it only seems to exist in the very corner of your eye and retreats when your gaze tries to creep around to catch it.
Lela never talks about the cat. She told you once that it is only her and her wife that live in the basement below the library. You have never seen her wife and fear she must have some permanent sickness that stops her from being able to do much. You think they should move above ground so she can at least see the world through the windows obscured by racing raindrops, but you keep it to yourself.
The one computer here is old, the white plastic exterior now yellowed. Still, it is the only gateway to the outside world in this little town and you blow at your tea while waiting for your search results. ‘SAS military bases in West Virginia’ is a shot in the dark, but you need to start somewhere. After a sip you dump more sugar into your cup before looking at your finally loaded results.
There are none. No British military installations at all in the USA. You had hoped at least the results would bring up something about training exercises but it is just pages of useless information about bases around the world. You read about the SAS, fall down a rabbit hole of how they torture their soldiers to train them to withstand it. You go through pages and pages of search results until finally one talks about SAS soldiers in this area.
The link takes you to a dusty website that stopped being updated sometime in the late 90s. It’s some sort of conspiracy blog and you are prepared to close it, but you can’t help but get lost in the story it tells.
The details are unclear which you suppose is the hallmark of any good conspiracy. 40 years ago. There was a team of two, or maybe four or maybe seven. They set up just outside the woods with little to no explanation. There’s an interview from a local, not a name you recognise so one you think is likely long dead. She says two of the soldiers went into the woods first. She remembers something bad must have happened, because there was an argument between the five left outside. Nobody was allowed close, but she watched two more men go into the woods. After that the operation seemed to vanish entirely overnight and nobody heard anything more about it.
Whoever authored the blog has a gift with words because despite your logical mind knowing it was probably nothing but a random training exercise, the hairs on the back of your neck raise.
There is a photo of the alleged unit at the end loading slowly. You stare in fascination as line by line appears from the top. The world stops before it fully loads. At first you are confused as to why your whole body is tense, why your heart is racing. And then you figure it out. Silence. Complete and all together sudden silence. No rain hitting the windows, no scratching of the cat echoing, not even the whir of the computer.
You do not want to look away from the screen. You do not want to turn around. The prickle on your neck goes from dull to sharp.
The computer powers down.
—
He says to call him John. This man does not walk to your right like the Scottish one, or behind you like the first one you met. He walks in front of you. You can see the full expanse of his back clad in a vest. He wears a hat. He only ever turns slightly, enough to see that he has sideburns but never enough to see his face.
You are so enraptured by being able to see so much of him so clearly that it takes you a while to notice there is someone on your left. A few steps behind like the Scottish one does on your right. It takes you by surprise enough that you are about to forget the unspoken rules and turn, but John predicts your move.
“Eyes forward.”
“Sorry” you say automatically, fixing you eyes to his back and letting the other man stay as the impression of a creature just in sight of your left eye.
“They’re pretty, Captain.”
“I’m aware.”
It should not make you blush but somehow it does.
“What’s you name?” you ask.
There is no way to direct it specifically to the man on your left, so you simple direct it to the back of John and hope that the trees will send it where it needs to go.
“Captain?” the man asks, not for permission but as if genuinely unsure of the answer.
“Kyle, your name’s Kyle.”
“Right. Kyle.”
You catch the movement of him touching his chest, maybe rubbing at a name tag there but you can’t be sure.
“You can call me Gaz if you like.”
John and Gaz are your company for weeks. Whenever you ask after the other two, the air turns sweet and bloody and you are left alone among the jimsonweeds.
—
“Got intae trouble for ye.”
You’re not sure where you are but you recognise the voice. Is he in your room?
“We both did. Curiosity would’ve killed you little kitten,” comes the other voice from the first man in the woods somewhere behind you.
You hazily look down at yourself. You are not in the bed at the inn, you are in another bed laid on your back. You feel your legs brush against one another, not clad in the flannel you remembered wearing. Silk, you are wearing silk. Delicate against your skin, not much of it. Were you wearing perfume? Something smells sweet.
As you stare at the bare expanse of your leg a hand sinks into your thigh, squeezes.
“Fuck LT, so soft. Fingers just sink right in.”
You fight the urge to look to the right where the hand is coming from. You can’t look, some primal part of your brain knows you cannot look.
“Stay away from the woods” the man behind you whispers into your ear like a caress as his hands settle gently around your neck.
You do not feel the snap of bone, but you hear it. You taste the blood in your mouth.
You do not manage to fall back asleep when you wake.
—
Breakfast, library, try to sleep, don’t go into the woods, dinner, try to sleep, stare at the wallpaper, try to sleep.
—
You overhear Axell and Lela once. You think they are talking about you.
“You think we’re doing the right thing?” Axell asks.
“I don’t think there is a right thing anymore.”
“It’s been a long time now. Maybe we should let them go.”
“You think we could?”
There is a silence. Neither of them thinks so. Paranoia settles over you that you haven’t felt since back when things got bad. It’s like an old vice settling into your bones, or maybe seeping out of them as if it never truly left. You cannot go back to that place again so you take some aspirin for the rhythmic pulsing behind your eyes and the dull prickle at the back of your neck and resolve to put any thoughts of conspiracy out of your mind. Lela and Axell are simply old, there is not something they know that you do not.
—
You do not mean to walk into the woods again. The man behind you is back. He feels different somehow.
“I could eat you right up” he says against your neck.
Old Mr Kleer sees the bloodied bite at your throat and says nothing as you walk by.
—
You book a bus ticket. It feels too much like there are tendrils growing from you to burrow into the ground, to fix you here. If you don’t rip them out now, it is only a matter of time until the roots are so deep you won’t be strong enough to move. You aren’t eating properly, you’ve hardly slept and when you do you wake up with a bitter taste in your mouth and covered in scratches. There is still the shape of a bite on your throat and the B&B owners in Pennsylvania look at you with pity as you check in.
The building is charming and fairly new. You stare at the neutral pink wallpaper. One corner of it has lifted ever so slightly. You fall asleep staring at the peek of green underneath.
—
It doesn’t rain as much here, the sun is out and everything seems more colourful. Weeks pass in a haze and you slowly emerge again, eating properly, sleeping through the night. The town on the Greenbrier starts to fade to an unpleasant dream.
—
There is something comforting about the old man who comes to stay and sits by you for breakfast in the mornings. He has the remnants of a Russian accent and laughs frequently and easily. The stories he tells are fantastical, but he’s non-committal about his visit to small town Pennsylvania although he at least tells you that he likes the nature around here. He whispers that his legs aren’t up for much walking anymore, so he has to take the easy paths through small patches of nature.
It takes a week or so more to work up the courage to accompany him on a walk. It seems silly, but the woods make you feel afraid. Maybe a short walk through the small area he spoke of will help you get beyond it. You rub at your neck, feeling the marks faded but still there.
—
He notices your discomfort and tries to ease it with his stories as you walk the dirt path.
“It’s the most important thing I’ve learned you know” he says, the aching grief in his voice causing you pause, “you cannot leave friends behind.”
You turn to him, intending to ask how much longer the path leads since it is getting dark now. He is not there.
“Nik?” you ask, calm at first but increasingly more frantic.
That old familiar dull prickle settles on the back of your neck as you run back down the way you came to get out of the woods. Drooping tree limbs get in your way and you push through, ignoring the scratches. As darkness falls you slow to a walk, unable to see anything in front of you. You catch the smell the sweetness of the jimsonweeds. You can smell blood.
Foot steps that are not your own surround you. A set in front of you. One behind. To the left and to the right.
“Welcome home.”
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“Ya’ want me to touch ya’ like that?”
(Rivals) Declan O’Hara x Reader
Suggestion by my dearest Miranon🩷 / A budding author, you are introduced to Declan O’Hara by your friend Lizzie, and realise your new book has a profound effect…
18+ FANFIC / SUPER SMUT! Finally some more Declan! Super long, I’m so sorry. Reader character aged at 21. As always, request what you wanna see in my asks 💋
“Bloody hell.” Lizzie Vereker remarks, flipping through pages of your first ever publication. “This is… this is porn!” She speaks through a flustered grin. “Oh God, Lizzie. Don’t say that.” You roll your eyes and tut, anxiously chomping at your fingernails as you intently read her expression. It had been 2 weeks since you had published your first book — something of an erotica. You had recently been taken on by Angler Publishing, Lizzie’s agent. Something to be overjoyed about, but you couldn’t help but be frightened about the public reaction you were to receive.
“Well, I can tell you, it has been quite the hit in Rutshire. I’ve handed out a copy to quite literally everybody I’ve met.” Your foxy-haired companion informed you. A wry smile painted your face, half-petrified by the thought of an entire village dispassionately flicking through your novel. “Well, let’s hope it goes down well.” You sigh.
-
Declan O’Hara, recently unemployed and hopelessly bored, was sat in his arm chair. Lighting a cigarette and huffing out the biggest exhale manageable, he picked up the novel that Lizzie has passed to him in the village shop earlier that week. “What a load of shite.” He quipped to himself as he scanned over the title. Starting the book from halfway through, he happened to land upon one of your more risqué chapters — detailing the most erotic and fantastical scenes. Reaching down to adjust his growing bulge, Declan groaned and spoke into the air, “Fuck me, she’s a dirty girl. Mind of filth.”
It had been a while since he’d been intimate — Maud had took off a few months ago now, with no contact or intention of returning. He was a red-blooded mammal with a carnal instinct, he needed to get his release sooner or later, and it wasn’t going to be over a fucking book. He arose from his chair, closing the book and camouflaging it within his bookshelf. A short snap of the letterbox irritated his ears as he began to stride towards the front door. “The fuck is this?” He asked to himself, bending down to retrieve the small, glossy leaflet that had been pushed through his door. The leaflet advertised your book signing, with a guest appearance from established author Lizzie Vereker herself. “Fuck that.” He rolled his eyes, balling up the leaflet between his palms and tossing it into the paper bin.
-
“Will anyone actually come?” You ask as you watch Lizzie, frantically laying out pens and copies of your book on a fold-up table, carefully prepared outside of the village hall. “Of course!” She lies, wiping sweat from her brow with the back of her arm. Lizzie desperately wanted you to succeed and had personally posted a leaflet through every house door in Rutshire. Whether anyone actually turned up, however, was a different story entirely.
Declan, an ever pessimistic look engrained on his face, began to trudge past the stoned driveway of the village hall, furiously puffing on a cigarette and muttering to himself. “Declan! Declan!” Lizzie began to call, and you immediately rested your head in your hands — today was going to be mortifying. The moustached man appeared to ignore her, but Lizzie would not give up. “Come on Declan, come on Declan.” She shouted, waving him over with every word. The man muttered to himself once more, turned on his heels, and began to walk towards your crudely prepared desk. “Hello, Miss Vereker. How can I help ‘ya today?” He asked, feigning friendliness. You took a quick glance at the man and immediately regretted it. Darkened chocolate hair, rather tedious tweed outfit… but an incredibly intoxicating face. “This is my friend,” Lizzie begins to introduce you, but you chime in with your name and give Declan a small wave, to which he shoots you a small smile.
“I gave you her novel the other day. Did you get a chance to read it?” She asked, speaking in a hushed tone in order to avoid embarrassment.. she knew the answer would most definitely be a no. “I did, actually. I flicked through it last night.” Declan replied, raking a hand over his curled hair. Lizzie looked at you with wildly optimistic eyes, to which you nervously grinned. “Wh-what did you think?” You peeped, clearing your throat immediately after. “You’re quite the little minx, aren’t ya’?” He smirked down at you, avoiding Lizzie’s unsettlingly persistent eye contact. Blushing wildly, you giggle and pick up a novel from the top of your almost-toppling pile. “Care for a signed copy?” You ask, a sanguine smile controlling your mouth. Declan scratched at his beard hesitantly and exhaled thunderously. “Go on then.” Clapping her hands in excitement, Lizzie pushed out a small ‘yay’, and equipped you with a pen. Scribbling your signature into the book, you pushed the copy towards him, keeping one hand on the cover. He repossessed it from you, brushing softly across your hand and smirking at you.
Figuring he may as well take his chance, Declan cleared his throat and pursed his lips in speech. “If ya’ free tonight, why don’t ‘ya come for a drink with me and go into more detail about ya’ filthy book?” A rare smile interrupted his question. “Oh… okay. Where’s good for a drink?” You question, flipping your hair to one side. “Ah, nowhere around here. Lizzie’ll tell ya’ which my house is. If you’re comfortable, I’m free tonight.” He murmurs, turning around and walking away from the table.
“Fuck. Me. Lizzie. He is gorgeous.” You groan, rubbing your hands over your eyes. You couldn’t have been more embarrassed at how you handled the situation. “Oh God, Declan? No, no. Dirty.” Lizzie grimaced, turning her nose up at Mr O’Hara.
-
Some few hours after what seemed to be a semi-successful public appearance, you lay on your bed in solitude. Declan hadn’t left your mind the entire day. After some careful consideration, you decided to at least visit him for a very quick, very small drink. Curling your intricately long eyelashes and swiping gloss over your lips, you scanned yourself in your dressing table mirror — chestnut hair curled delicately and a tight floral dress hugging your curves, accessorised with a delicate pearl necklace and earrings. Taking a quick glimpse at the scrawled address that Lizzie had written for you, you begin to make the bitterly cold journey to The Priory.
Gently knocking on the front door of the luxurious country home, you waited nervously and replayed your earlier conversation in your head — unpicking on every stutter and incorrect word. “Oh. I didn’t think you were gonna come.” Declan spoke as he opened the door. Not quite the grand entrance you were expecting. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I just thought-“ You begin to panic, instantaneously blushing and backing away from the door. After a few painfully uncomfortable seconds, Declan allowed himself a stifled chuckle as he extended the door to let you in. “Ahh, I’m just jokin’. Come in. Lounge is the first door on the right.”
Taking a demure seat on his sofa, you kept your hands bunched up in your lap, afraid of taking up too much space. “What do ya’ drink? Whiskey? Vodka?” He bellowed from the kitchen, voice overcome only by the sound of glasses chinking against each other. “A vodka and lemonade will do, thank you.” You smile, watching intently as Declan entered the living room, pouring out two drinks with a trembling hand. “Did you really like the book?” You ask, pulling your cigarette case from your petite, leather clutch bag and lighting it. Declan followed suit, and subsequently swiped the signed copy of your novel from his coffee table, opening it a quarter way through and reading a sentence aloud.
•
“Alice howled in intense sexual gratification as Edward swirled his fingertips across her swollen clitoris,” Declan began, voice assertive and proud, “Jesus Christ, how are ya’ even allowed to publish this?” He asked, barking out a laugh. Rubbing your lips together in self-consciousness. Declan took note of your diffidence and halted his laughter, coughing brashly from the fumes of his cigarette and reading the next sentence of your book inwardly. “Sorry. I, uh… didn’t mean ta’ embarrass ‘ya.” He sighs, as you knock back the entirety of your vodka. “Can I have another, please?” You ask, and Declan obliges, filling more than half the glass with vodka, and replicating the insane measurement in his own.
“It’s erotica, Declan. It’s very popular. Really, it reflects all of one’s needs and desires.” You tut, tucking a strand of chocolate hair behind your left ear. Halfway through a mouthful of vodka, Declan paused and glared at you. It was the first time he had noticed you — really noticed you. The hopeful glint in your lazuline eyes, the gentle undulations of your shapely figure, the sultry pursing of your reddened lips. Your cheeks glowed the most charming shade of rose as the vodka coursed through your veins. “So, what are your needs and desires?” He whispered, voice gravelly and coarse. “Read the next line.” You hush, taking another large swig of your drink. “Her wetness coated his fingers and his erection grew at the smell of her.” He reads, shifting himself in his seat uncomfortably. “It’s how every woman wants to be touched.” You whisper, inching closing to him and resting your head on your hand.
“Ya’ want me to touch ya’ like that?” Declan growled, pulling your knees apart gently and creeping his hand up your thigh. The heat emanating from your pussy made him grunt in pleasure. Shuffling slightly to allow your dress to ride up to the top of your thighs, Declan pulled at your knee once more until your legs were widely spread. He brought his finger to your clit and gasped, “No pants? Fuckin’ dirty girl.” You softly bite your bottom lip at his words. Nimbly swirling circles around your pink clit, you felt yourself dripping in excitement. You panted desperately at your heightened sensitivity. “Does that feel good?” He asked, delving two fingers inside you and moaning at your constriction around him. You squeaked out the smallest yes possible, pleasure making it impossible to formulate coherent sentences.
Removing his fingers from you and standing up, Declan unbuttoned his shirt to reveal his wildly hairy chest. Gazing at him with adoring eyes, you watched as he unzipped his trousers and pulled his boxers from his ankles. Sitting back down on the sofa and motioning for you to copy, you pulled your floral dress over your head and off — substantially large breasts bouncing through the rhythm. Grabbing your hand and pulling you onto his lap, Declan fervidly crashed your lips together in lust — tongue fighting it’s way into yours and hand reaching up to grab a tight handful of your left breast. Desperate for friction, you began to grind your clit against his firm cock, moans escaping through the gaps of your kiss.
Grabbing your petite waist, Declan hoisted you up slightly and lowered you back down onto his cock. A powerful groan left your lips, your pussy slowly stretching open over his girth. Moving his hands to grab handfuls of your area, flesh spilling between his fingers, he bounced you up and down, his head lulling back in pleasure. “Declan, you’re so fucking big.” You exclaim, steadying yourself on his shoulders. “Am I breaking ya’, my girl?” He grunted into your ear, setting the pace of a madman. The way he could so easily raise you up and down created the most powerful knots in your stomach. “Yes, and it feels so fucking good.” You moan.
Feeling you clench tighter around him, Declan moaned under his breath and released his hand, allowing you to set your own pace. Uncontrollable with ardour, you bounce on his cock with a frantic pace, evermore spurred on by his lustful reaction. “Keep goin’, my girl. I’m gonna fuckin’ cum inside ya’.” The Irishman grunted, keeping his hands by his side and allowing you to ride him to release. “Fuck, Declan. Cum for me. I want it so fucking bad.”
Lowering his head to take a nipple into his mouth, Declan moved his right hand to wrap around your waist, thrusting into you sloppily as he neared his ecstasy. “Are ya’ fuckin’ ready for it?” He asked, cock already twitching in anticipation. You nod lazily, losing control of your function. Grunting carnally as he shot his hot ropes of cum inside you, his grip around your waist tightened and you both panted together, relieved and exhausted. Slowly, lifting yourself from him, Declan watched as his seed dripped from your entrance — a successful symbol of your lovemaking.
“You look so fuckin’ good with my cum inside ‘ya.” He smirked, playing a firm smack on your arse. This would most definitely not be the last time you saw each other…
#rivals#rivals fanfic#rivals fanfiction#declan i fancy u <3#declan o’hara x reader#declan o’hara#declan o hara#aidan turner#my own dreadful writing
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We can't be friends | w.a
Request @ortegalvr
Pairing: Wednesday Addams X reader
Warning: Fluffy, Sad
Belladonna
The belladonna plant, also known as Atropa belladonna, is notorious for being poisonous, but some of its chemicals can be used in medicine to treat certain conditions, as in traditional medicine. However, its use requires extreme caution and medical supervision due to its toxicity.
I scrunch up my nose and look at the words in our herbology book with confusion. I had to do thorough research on poisonous plants and any potential benefits they might bring, so I decided to take advantage of this research time at the Weathervane.
"Here's your macchiato," I raise my head from the book and see the barista. The brown-eyed, curly-haired guy gives me a small smile. "Thank you," I return the smile and notice him walking back to the counter, wiping some cups.
I sigh audibly and sip the coffee, closing my eyes to the delicious flavor. It wasn't Italian, but it was still good, less watery than I imagined. I lick my lower lip and return my eyes to my notes, tapping the pen on the paper, thinking of some other poisonous plant.
I needed to get a good grade.
The sound of the bell in the shop marks someone's arrival, and I look up curiously, seeing a familiar figure. A sensation of chill runs through my body, my heart pounding frantically against my chest.
I couldn't move.
Wednesday Addams was accompanied by a girl, a blonde with colorful highlights. The blonde was smiling broadly and chatting with the brunette, who was looking at her with her usual apathetic gaze. Wednesday was wearing an all-black school uniform, her unmistakable braids hanging over her shoulders.
Her eyes flick in my direction, and I feel my shoulders slump, my eyes softening as I look at Wednesday after so many years. Wednesday seemed surprised to see me, but she didn't show it. Her posture remained perfect, no hint of shock or surprise, just her eyes staring into mine as if trying to read something in them.
The blonde, noticing where Wednesday was looking, leans towards her, probably asking who I was, interrupting the staring contest that had developed between me and her. "I didn't know you knew anyone here in Jericho," is the only thing I manage to catch from their dialogue, and I lower my head to the table, playing with my hands.
It was a habit I had when I was nervous and embarrassed, which was plausible considering it's been years since I've seen little Addams. "Wed, are you okay?" the blonde asks again, two tables away from me. I purse my lips, feeling bitterness in my mouth at the nickname she gave her.
Wed? Now you're letting her call you by my nickname? I thought bitterly.
I sigh audibly and turn my attention back to my assignment, trying to ignore the conversations between the blonde and Wednesday, even though the latter barely spoke. I unconsciously smile, knowing it was just like her to behave this way.
Let's say that every time we went out together, I was the one who talked the most of the two, the brunette just looked at me without blinking, her deer-like eyes watching me with curiosity as I talked and talked. It made me smile and shiver at the same time to be watched with such intensity, but Wednesday loved listening to me talk, she always said she liked my voice
Oleander... Poison... Wednesday.
I knew perfectly well that Wednesday loved this kind of thing, studying every kind of weapon or poisonous plant, a passion her mother passed on to her. But this connection came to mind only now seeing Addams' figure.
I raise my gaze, unconsciously looking at the girl who was my downfall, the love of my life... A girl I still think could be mine. I see her talking to the blonde, smiling shyly, almost imperceptibly at her words.
Apparently, she can understand you, right?
Because I'm different from her, right?
"No! You can't understand! I don't want to hurt you," Wednesday's voice suddenly rises, looking at me seriously.
"But..." I start, feeling tears welling up in my eyes.Wednesday turns her back on me and walks towards the entrance of my room, her hand on the doorknob, her back rigid.
"We can't keep seeing each other, I don't want to see you anymore," her voice lowers again, a cold chill creeping into my bones.
"You're leaving me?" I whisper, looking at the brunette in disbelief. Wednesday doesn't even hint at turning around, her shoulders slumping as she opens the door.
"Wed," I say timidly, my voice breaking as tears threaten to fall. Addams tightly grips the doorknob, her posture still perfect.
"Don't be pathetic, y/n... You're smarter than this," she says with such coldness that it leaves me stunned. After this sentence, Wednesday walks through the door of my room, leaving my house and my life.
It's been 3 years since that moment, and I still shiver at the memory.
I clench my jaw tightly, trying to suppress the anger and pain I still feel, as I delve into my assignment, trying to find comfort in the pages of the book.
"What do you want to order, Wed?" asks a high-pitched voice. I look at the paper while waiting for her rather obvious response.
"Iced espresso," Wednesday replies neutrally.
Her favorite, I know.
Apparently, she still liked the coffee I made her try at my house during our first study project.
Umm... What can I offer you?" I ask nervously as I watch the brunette marveling around my kitchen. Wednesday touches my microwave and looks at it closely.
"What do you have?" she asks spontaneously, her voice small but determined.
"I asked you for a reason, don't you think?" I chuckle timidly, smiling at Addams' strangeness. Wednesday didn't seem like a very... Simple girl, indeed, she had a morbid sense of humor and a loyalty to the color black.
Wednesday gazes into my eyes, making me blush at their intensity. Black eyes stare into mine without blinking, whether curious or annoyed, I still don't know.
"What's that?" she points to the coffee machine, and I blink incredulously.
"You really don't know what it is?" I ask in surprise, and she tilts her head sideways, analyzing me with her gaze.
"It's a coffee machine... Do you want to try my family's famous iced espresso?" I ask proudly, my eyes lighting up with excitement.
The corners of Addams' mouth lift, and she timidly nods her head.
I shake my head and try to focus, a solitary tear rolling down my cheek before falling onto the book. I clench my jaw and try not to cry. Focus on the task.
Don't be weak, don't be pathetic
"Enid, can you hurry up and finish the frappé? It's almost writing time," Wednesday asks with a hint of irritation, earning a glare from what I now know is called Enid.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch their interaction, Wednesday's black eyes pointing towards my direction again. I look away towards her features: high cheekbones, full lips, a stoic but incredibly attractive gaze. Wednesday remains motionless, staring at me, and I surrender to her gaze, starting to pack up my things to put them in my backpack.
The memory of our first date...
We were in the dark room of Wednesday's house, enveloped by the tense and mysterious atmosphere of a horror movie playing on the big screen. Sitting on the couch, I was completely immersed in the plot, but every now and then a shiver of terror would make me jump.
I felt the tension building inside me as the scenes became increasingly eerie. My hands were clenched into fists on my knees, and my heart was beating so fast I feared it might burst from my chest, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from the screen.
Suddenly, a particularly scary scene materialized on the screen, and I couldn't hold back a small scream of terror. Without hesitation, Wednesday grabbed my hand firmly, surprising me with her quick action.
The touch of her hand on mine made me jump, but immediately I felt a sense of calm spreading inside me. Her fingers were cold, but the grip was comforting, as if she wanted to protect me from the terror surrounding usI looked at Wednesday with gratitude, finding comfort in her dark and deep eyes.
She didn't say a word, but her simple gesture spoke more than a thousand words. In that moment, I understood that I wasn't alone, that she was there with me, ready to support me.
So, with Wednesday's hand in mine, I faced the rest of the movie with a renewed sense of courage, knowing that no matter how terrifying it was, I could overcome it with her by my side.
Our first kiss, which happened later that evening.
Wednesday and I locked eyes, a silence filled with tension and emotion enveloping the room.
Our gaze met, and I could sense the same uncertainty I felt.Then, slowly, Wednesday leaned towards me, her eyes fixed on mine with intensity. My heart was pounding so hard I feared it might burst, but I couldn't tear my gaze away from her.
Her lips brushed against mine cautiously, as if she was afraid of hurting me. I felt the warmth of her breath on my face, and a shiver ran down my spine as I leaned in closer to her. Our first kiss was a moment of pure enchantment, a whirlwind of overwhelming emotions.
Wednesday's lips were soft and warm against mine, and the contact was so intense that for a moment it seemed like the world around us stopped.
An onslaught of memories overwhelms me, making me feel vulnerable. My heart breaks at the memories of what we were, of what we shared.
I feel like that flood of memories could easily drive me to madness, but I don't want to feed this monstrous fire. I just want to let this story die, and I'll be alright.
"Shit," I whisper, clenching my jaw tightly.
I stand up from the chair, and the cup near me falls to the ground, attracting the attention of the others. Tyler, the barista, walks over to me and crouches down to pick up the broken pieces. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," I say with concern. "It's okay, accidents happen," he says, smiling kindly.
My eyes glance at Wednesday, and I see her turn her head upon hearing the noise. The blonde next to her continues to drink her frappé, unfazed by the events. Wednesday keeps looking at me in a strange way, her eyes... Glassy. They're kind. Her body invites me to approach and I freeze at the thought of standing just a few steps away from her, face to face.
Maybe she wants to talk and sort things out?
Be friends?
I purse my lips and break the eye contact between us. I grab the backpack with my assignments inside and look at Tyler with concern, who smiles broadly at me.
I give him a small smile and leave the shop, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders.
We can't be friends, there are too many feelings.
But I'd like to just pretend, maybe one day not too far away I'll be able to.
But a part of me... Wait until you like me again.
#jenna ortega#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega x you#jenna ortega x y/n#jenna ortega x fem!reader#wednesday addams x reader#wednesday x you#wednesday addams x you#wednesday adams x reader#wednesday x reader#request#taking requests
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CB theories/thoughts (part 1)
One of the things I love about CB is how the story immerses its reader into the story and makes them discover for themselves what is happening, watching it unfold and learning things along with Chase. The story is done in a way that it doesn't spoon feed you the information. It gives you the pieces and you have to put them together. There are so many details that can go unnoticed,but they can be crucial to the plot.
I am really interested in Nox cause he is the biggest mystery to me so far in the series. The guy is such an enigma,we know him but we don't know ABOUT HIM. Much like Chase.
I would like to point out that this is the first time that Nox saw Chase,he didn't look as aggressive as the first time he interacted with Chase,but he does seem to be under pressure.
Nox said that he has to get back THAT KEY, talking about Silver as she is an item? Why would he do that when he is a key himself? I did think of the possibility that he was human at first and became a key at some point later in the story,but I now doubt it. Mainly because he has known since the start how every story goes by the time he enters it and that's a trait the keys have. Plus, if he has been a key this whole time, the whole narrative makes more sense. It is interesting how Nox said "something is missing" and not "the key is missing" maybe because Silver is not what was missing or she is not the only thing missing. She did come with a torn paper that has instructions and we do see a book with a missing page. The page Chase found seems to fit,it is just that Chase is reading the other side of it,but the torn pieces seem to fit.
The questions that are arise are the following.
Was it Nox that torn the page?
Who put Silver and the page in the library?
Why was silver cracked?
Was silver intended to be found by someone specific?
Was it Nox that torn the page?/ Who put Silver and the page in the library? If we look at the handwriting in the "read me" book it seems a bit sloppy. I think this is the kind of letters someone would have while trying to write in a hurry or fit a sentence in a small space. Or maybe these are the kind of letters of someone using a bigger pen than their size to write. I am giggling so much at the thought that Nox is actually living in some secret room under the library, and under some toy story-like operation, he managed to put the book in the library. The book was found after all on the lowest bookshelf and the only reason Chase noticed it was because he was lying on the floor. It is safe to assume that whoever has Nox and the keys are close to Sugar springs since two other keys were found there.
Why was Silver cracked? I honestly have no idea,I am not creative enough for that. All I can think of right now is that the last time she was in a book something went wrong. As I have said in another post, I don't think ex libris is active anymore cause whoever is that old man,he doesn't seem to fit the profile of Ex libris. In a previous post, I said that Nox and Violet do not seem strictly supervised and Nox is not forced to retrieve the keys as the old man doesn't seem to know of Silver's absence or even care. It is possible that he didn't know that her crack could be fixed so Nox saw it as an opportunity to sneak her out.
Was silver intended to be found by someone specific? Maybe, maybe not. Nox does say ‘’after all that and it is just a small weak little thing like you’’ which could mean that he did not know who was supposed to find Silver, or maybe he was looking for a candidate that he deemed worthy of including in his plans. I don’t think there is enough information to draw a clear conclusion for that question to be answered.
Bonus detail: Nox likes to hide between trees and leaves and that's where he was hiding the first time he saw Chase. When Bronze entered we see a rustle of leaves, implying that Nox did enter the book for a moment.
I am thinking of making this a series of posts where I just overthink everything and I make silly theories cause I need season 2 asap and I feel a great urge to yap.
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Know how
young Ford + Reader
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Summary..
You and Ford are working on a research paper, and you comfort him about his 'weirdness'
non genderd reader
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You and Ford first met in college due to having the same morning lecture. He was nervous and slightly confused when you decided to start a conversation with him about Constellations, and soon It was small things here and there. A walk n talk, or just a quick wave around campus. Eventually, you guys became acquaintances. Getting coffee and reading together, he was always nose deep in his books.
And one day during class, your professor announced a project for your midterm. Telling you all to form into groups of however many people, and you turned your head to look at Ford, who was sitting next to you. He was chewing on his pen before he noticed you staring at him.
You looked at his eyes, smiling gently as you spoke up. “Partners?” with a tilt of your head. He nodded. The rest of the class consisted of the professor explaining what to do and how to, and then let everyone go.
As you packed up and got ready to go back to your dorm to absolutely pass out, Ford cleared his throat. You shook the tiredness out of your head and glanced at him. “should we go to yours? For the project, I mean.” You interrupted him with a chuckle and replied. “Yeah, sure dude. Follow me” you gestured, walking down the steps with him trailing behind you like a stray dog.
As you both walked, you spoke up. "Hey, do you have any other friends? Not in a mean way- just I only ever see you walking alone."
Ford rubbed the back of his neck and replied solemnly. "Well my only close friend is fiddleford. He's my roommate. But he's in a lot of different programs so we don't see eachother much on campus other than in our shared dorm"
You grin, "Fiddleford? I remember him! He was the one who fell asleep in the fountain after a party right?"
Ford chuckled and nodded "I had to carry him back to our dorm. Woke up the next day not remembering anything from the night before."
You both walked in comfortable silence through the winding hallways. footsteps echoed and voices boomed as people passed by. At one point going down an elevator a girl giggled at Ford and murmured something crude about him. Immediately Ford shrunk back, shoving his hands in his pockets. You gave the girl a disgusted look before trying to walk up to her and ask why she was being a bitch but you felt a hesitant tug of your sleeve.
Ford had an unreadable look on his face as he shoved his hands into his pockets. muttering a small “it's fine, really. Don't worry about her.” you gave him a ‘are you sure?’ and he just nodded, then looked away.
The second week of you two casually hanging out, Ford asked looked up from his notebook and looked at you. "Why did you approach me, y/n?" he asked, curious about your reasoning.
And you awnserd truthfully. "Well, I actually thought you were really smart for someone going to..this college. And it fascinated me. What nade you want to come here? Whats your backstory.-" but halfway through talking you can see a very confused and surprised look on his face. And before you could even ask, he opened his mouth. “and..not for my fingers?”
He lifted both his hands towards you. wiggling them, really trying to prove that you supposedly faking it. This was his way if trying to freak you out and drive you away. But it back fired horribly.
You looked at him bewilderd, and as he held his hand up you counted. 1..2..3..4..5..6!
You gave him an excited smile and basically shouted at him. “Oh my god! I didn't even notice- that's so cool man!” after asking your 7th question about his hands you realized you had just made him extremely uncomfortable. And you apologized profusely. he didn't talk to you for a couple days after that. So you never dared to mention them again. Even going as far as to not look at his hands at all.
You guys got to your dorm and as you opened your door he was hit with the scent of your favorite candle and the cool air conditioning. His body relaxed, before he gently closed the door and sat on a nearby chair. Looking out of place while pulling out his note book in your very..interestingly decorated dorm.
“So, we should get started on the research first and make sure every source is as factual as possible-” He took his nose out of his book to look over at you to see if you were listening to him but your eyes were trained on his fingers.
"can I see your hand?" you ask with a blank face.
Oh.
He sighed. Why would he ever think he'd make a friend as popular as you? He went straight to overthinking. Imagining you laughing at him or running out the door to go gossip with your multitude of friends across campus. He gave up. Might aswell show you, he's never better for anything else but his weirdness.
You grabbed his hands so gently he barely noticed you even touched them. You handled them with such care as if you breathed the wrong way he'd shatter. Your hands were smooth and warm.
A shiver crawled down his back as you ran your index finger up and down each and every six of his fingers. Circling around every knuckle and especially his thumbs. Lifting his hand up so you could see his palm. Tracing the lines and indents across it- and it reminded him of when his mother would give him palm readings. and suddenly, he wasn't so afraid of you anymore. It all washed away.
You were absolutely and utterly mesmerized. You'd never seen such beautiful hands.
“Stanford, your hands are divine.”
You muttered out.
His heart jumped up into his throat and his face turned as pink as bubblegum, stammering and watching you fiddle with his middle finger..or well one of them. He watches in amazement, his heart beating through his chest. Butterflies galore, how could one ever handle holding hands with someone? Gosh he was overthinking- you're hands are so reassuring. This is too new, you're so gentle and any time your finger runs up his hand he tries not to let out an embarrassing gasp.
"Ford?" You speak up. "You still there?"
"Yes! of course. Why do you ask?" His hands are so sweaty now and suddenly he can smell his bo and gets self conscious on the one empty pizza box he left out.
"Everything about you is so intriguing and weird..but in a good way. Your hands- your fingers. They're amazing." you say in awe.
Fords cheeks go a deep red and he starts coughing, nodding along. And he froze when you said his fingers were amazing. "You really think so?" he says, locking eyes with you.
"Of course. I've never seen something so..stunning. You're such a oddball, Stanford Pines." you chuckled.
the rest of the night was filled with you and Ford having a deep conversation about things, almost forgetting you had a paper to work on.
You both smiled at eachother fondly and the night went on.
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#one shots#ford pines x reader#ford pines x you#grunkle ford#fiddleford hadron mcgucket#young ford pines#reader has no gender
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