#so it was fun to get into the mind of someone that doesn’t feel the same as me

[lottins-only]

THE STARS ALIGNED, THEY LED ME TO YOU | Jude Bellingham

pairing: jude bellingham x fem!reader

word count: 5.4k

summary: jude starts his 2025 with a quiet morning walk to his favorite cafe. on that new year's day, his horoscope leads him to someone very special. as the year unfolds, the stars continue to chart his path, marking important relationship milestones and memories

warnings: smut

A/N: had this idea for quite a while and it was fun to write! let me know what you guys think :)

I.

january 1, 2025 - cancer, today is all about partnerships and fated meetings. keep an eye out for new connections that could change your life, and all things green. yes, green. 🍀

jude squints at his phone.

he’d downloaded an astrology app as a joke a while back, roped into it by a friend who was one of those people who took astrology really, really seriously. it was all rubbish of course. but for some inexplicable reason, he hasn’t deleted the app yet. maybe it was out of curiosity, or maybe just the fact that he liked having something to chuckle at during breakfast.

this morning, jude doesn’t feel like laughing at all. he groans as he shoves his phone into his pocket, wincing at the dull ache in his head. last night’s champagne had been a mistake. or maybe it was the tequila shots that came after. he wasn’t sure anymore. either way, he was paying for it now. the cold january air didn’t help much either, biting at his skin even through his oversized hoodie and thick sweatpants.

on early mornings during his off days, he liked walking inside the gated community he lived in. sometimes, he even dared to walk beyond the gates, wandering the streets of madrid where he's rarely afforded anonymity. he had a set route, a memorized path that despite technically being habitual by now felt like an escape from the sometimes drab routine of his daily life. occasionally, he'd stop at a small cafe nearby, ordering a small coffee to go. he had an unspoken agreement with the barista on shift during those early morning hours: no acknowledgment of who he was, no whispered recognition in front of the other patrons. or maybe he was overthinking it and the barista had no idea who he was at all. who knows.

he tugs the hood further down over his face, adjusting his headphones and the mask he wore to keep from being recognized. not that he expected to see many people out this early on new year’s day, anyway. there were only the party survivors, disheveled and stumbling back home. no time for them to notice any lone, wandering footballers.

when he eventually reaches and walks inside the cafe, he's not surprised to see that there's less people than usual. just a young couple in party clothes, bleary eyes and sharing a croissant.

he orders his usual, headphones still blasting music, and lingers by the counter as he waits. his eyes do wander though, and he notices a lone figure sitting by the window, her back facing him. his eyes are immediately drawn to the oversized bow in her hair. the bow is bright yellow, a contrast to the muted tones of the cafe.

he finds himself staring, wondering what pressing matter would have someone typing frantically into their laptop on new years day in a near deserted cafe. he watches her, all social awareness seemingly fleeing his mind.

that is, until the girl suddenly turns and gets up. his eyes snap away immediately, and he pretends to be busy with his phone as she walks up to the same counter he's standing by. it strikes him that it would be more awkward if he pretends not to have been looking at her, especially if she'd somehow noticed. so he looks up from his phone and catches her gaze.

the second thing he notices about her, besides the bow, is how strikingly pretty she is. deep brown skin, almond shaped eyes peering through tortoiseshell glasses, and a small smile on her lips as she catches his gaze. annoyingly, he feels his stomach dip. tell tale sign that he's attracted to this girl, which he could've figured out without the physical reaction. jude's a pretty self aware guy, after all.

"don't have a match today?" he voice carries over the music in his ears.

he blinks, momentarily thrown off by her directness. "no, i'm off"

"okay" she says, unfazed. "your coffee is ready"

"huh?" he blinks again.

"your coffee?"

his eyes follow to where her finger is pointing, to find that, sure enough, his coffee is ready and waiting for him. jude curses silently, realizing he was too busy staring at this girl and being lost in his music to notice the barista setting it down on the counter.

he glances up at the barista, who sends him a sly wink, as if to say, caught you.

he murmurs a quiet thank you, pays for his drink, and generously tips. all the while he waits for the girl to strike up conversation with him, or ask for a picture, or yell BELLIGOL!!!!! unprovoked. because that's usually what happens when people recognize him in public.

instead, she asks for a muffin, and when the barista hands it to her on a plate, she simply offers a soft smile to jude before walking back to her seat.

jude's jaw slackens.

"ask to sit with her" the barista, whose name tag reads enzo, encourages from across the counter.

"but-"

"you've got nothing to lose" he reminds him. "if she says no you just walk out and leave and never see her again"

except he does have something to lose. he always does, when it comes to these things. a small, paranoid part of him runs through the scenarios: what if she sneakily took a picture of him while he was standing there? what if she says no, and then runs to one of those stupid gossip accounts on instagram to announce jude bellingham is such a creep, ew!. what if-

the chatter in his mind is silenced when he notices the pin on the barista's shirt, which reads: GREEN PEACE.

jude is immediately reminded of his horoscope this morning. keep an eye out for all things green.

enzo follows his gaze, then grins. "i volunteer there. great cause you know?"

jude doesn't respond. the familiar thought creeps in again: horoscopes are ridiculous, and any person who makes decisions based on them is naive at best and downright cuckoo at worst. but this is harmless isn't it? its not like he's letting astrology convince him to sink his entire net worth into some sketchy crypto currency or something.

so he squares his shoulders and mutters to enzo, "fine, i'll go talk to her"

the barista just gives him an encouraging thumbs up as jude picks up his coffee and heads her way.

she’s still typing as he walks over, her fingers flying over the keyboard with the kind of focus that makes him wonder if she's even aware of her surroundings at all. the oversized bow in her hair bobs slightly as she shifts in her seat. for some reason, he finds that little detail endearing.

when he finally reaches her table, he clears his throat softly.

“hi" he says confidently. "would you mind if i sat here?”

she looks up, tilting her head to study him for a beat. then, with a shrug, she gestures to the empty seat across from her. "go ahead"

she doesn’t look surprised that he’s there. instead, she closes her laptop gently and leans back on her chair as he takes a seat.

“didn’t think you’d actually do it” she says, sounding amused.

“do what?” he asks, also leaning back on his chair.

“come over and sit” she replies, a small smirk playing on her lips. “you were staring for a while”

he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “your bow is distracting”

she adjusts it on the back of her head, and a single strand of curls slips out from where she’d tucked it behind her ear. jude has to fight the urge to tuck it back in.

"got it yesterday"

��i like it” he says, fumbling a bit. “it’s very… cottage core?” he immediately regrets his words, because he has no idea what he's talking about. he hopes he's not embarrassing himself. “it gives off that vibe.”

he's relieved when she laughs. "thanks. i'll take it"

"i'm jude by the way" he says hastily. he hopes he's not coming off as arrogant by not introducing himself earlier, even though she recognized him.

"i'm y/n"

he nods towards her laptop. "y/n, what's got you so busy on new years?"

"oh, i'm applying for grad programs. finshing up uni soon, so yeah" she says shyly.

"what do you go to school for?"

she tells him about her major, how she's feeling about graduating soon. he listens intently, genuinely interested, and when it’s his turn to share about his job and life, he finds himself opening up too. it’s easy; surprisingly easy. for someone he met just ten minutes ago, their conversation flows effortlessly. she’s funny, quick witted in a way that keeps him on his toes, and she laughs at his jokes like she genuinely finds him amusing. it makes him feel good about himself.

enzo wanders over a while later.

"you two need anything else?"

jude glances down at his coffee cup, empty for at least the last twenty minutes. this would be the perfect moment to call it a day, to say goodbye and head home like he originally planned. with january being a very busy month for the team, he knows he should take every chance he gets to rest and recharge.

but leaving is the last thing he wants to do. talking to y/n is fun, refreshing.

"yeah, jude says, before he can overthink it. he nods toward y/n’s plate with a small grin. "i’ll have a muffin too"

II.

april 9, 2025 - today the stars are urging you to take charge, cancer. whether it’s expressing your feelings or trying something new, trust that courage will be rewarded 💪

having a crush is top 10 most painful things in the world.

jude used to roll his eyes at people who said that, chalking it up to melodramatics. but now he knows it first hand. because why in the hell is one person taking up so much of his brain space? how is that legal? how is that remotely okay?

that person is y/n, of course. they're friends now. close friends. friends who hang out regularly, who text a lot. friends who have inside jokes, shared playlists that she uses to tease him about his 'old man music taste', and a mutual understanding that they just get each other. its is great. it’s everything jude could ask for. except for the fact that it’s not enough.

for four months now, he feels like he's been sentenced to a life of angst. the kind that feels heavy on his chest whenever she's near, or worse, when she's not. so much so that he finds comfort in his so called 'old man music', sometimes unintentionally sulking to  '70s ballads about longing while staring dramatically out the window like one of those moody main characters in coming of age movies. his mother had caught him once and given him the biggest side eye, as if saying get a grip please!!

and when his woe is me schtick doesn’t work? he distracts himself the only way he knows how: throwing himself at girls who aren’t her.

it’s not something he’s proud of. in fact, it makes him feel like an idiot most of the time. but what else is he supposed to do? she doesn’t seem to want him, not like that, and he’s stuck in this cruel limbo that's seemingly never ending. best bet he has is to try and forget.

on this april evening, jude is walking out of the locker room after a match, his heart still racing from the rush of adrenaline and the high of scoring a brace. y/n waits for him in the underground parking lot of the bernabéu– a rare thing, since she doesn’t care much for football and has only attended his matches once or twice, and always in the company of his other friends. the irony isn’t lost on him: the person who occupies so much of his thoughts doesn’t share his love for the thing that defines his life. it’s baffling, but it doesn't feel wrong, and he’d managed to convince her to come tonight, using the excuse that his mom was out of town and he’d appreciate the company on the drive home.

he finds her leaning against his car, scrolling absentmindedly on her phone.

“hey” she says when she spots him, grinning at him. “you took your time"

"sorry" jude grins back. "there were so many people to take pics with"

then she throws herself at him so suddenly that he stumbles, barely managing to steady them both. she envelopes him into a tight hug, and jude surrenders himself to it gladly, heart pounding insistently against his ribs.

“two goals!” she leans back, her face alight with excitement as her hands grip his shoulders. she shakes him slightly, her energy infectious. “you were fucking unstoppable!”

“thanks” jude giggles, pulling her into another hug. he’ll take any physical closeness he can get.

they stay like that for a moment longer than necessary, and then y/n pulls back, her hands flying to his hair. she tugs gently at one of his coils, frowning slightly.

“your hair is so dry” she says, her tone exasperated but fond. “did you forget to use the leave in gave you? you have to put it on after you shower, jude” she tsked.

out of the corner of his eye, jude notices his driver glancing at them in the side mirror before quickly looking away. he wonders again if this looks like more than what it is. not that he’d mind if it did.

“no, yeah, i did bring it” jude says defensively, but just as he’s about to grab his bag to show her, his hand freezes. his pockets are empty. “shit” he mutters, patting himself down to make sure. “think i forgot my phone back there”

“it’s alright” y/n assures him. “we can go get it” 

the elevator ride back to the locker room is quiet. jude shifts from foot to foot, sneaking glances at y/n, who seems to be pointedly avoiding his gaze for whatever reason.

when the doors open, they step into the hallway where jude had been earlier. he spots his phone right where he thought it’d be, face down on a bench just outside the locker room where he’d been taking pictures with fans.

“there it is” he sighs in relief. 

“imagine someone nicked it” y/n jokes as she picks it up. 

“i’d be fuming” he chuckles, but then he notices her face. she’s frowning down at his screen, evidently bothered by what she sees. a second later, she hands it back to him, a tight, forced smile on her face.

“oh” y/n’s voice is light, almost too casual. “here you go”

jude finds what’s caught her attention. Its a DM notification from a girl, the message preview reading: had fun last week.  when can I see you again?

“its  uh– its someone i met at a party last week” jude stammers. “we–we didn’t, you know, but–”

“you don’t owe me an explanation” she says quickly, her voice light but strained. “it’s fine”

but it’s not fine, and the sudden distance in her tone cuts deep. jude clenches his jaw, sliding his phone into his pocket as they head back to the elevator. fucking idiot, he scolds himself. but a part of him is hopeful. maybe she cares, maybe she wants him the same way he wants her.

the ride down is tense, a heavy silence between them. jude feels like the words are right there, desperate to get out, but he doesn’t know where to start.

“thanks for coming tonight” he finally says, breaking the quiet. “even though football isn’t really your thing”

she glances at him, her lips twitching. “you’re my thing”

the words are like a punch in the gut, but in a good way.  before he can stop himself, before he can overthink, he blurts out: “i like you. more than a friend, i mean. i have for a while now. and i know this probably isn’t the right time or place to say it, but i can’t keep pretending i don’t feel this way about you”

y/n stares at him for a beat, her eyes searching his face. then, without warning, she steps forward, cups his cheek, and kisses him. it’s soft at first, but when he kisses her back, it deepens, all the pent up feelings spilling out.

“i like you too” she murmurs against his lips in between kisses. “a lot”

she doesn’t say anything more, and neither does he. there’s an unspoken understanding that they’ll get to talk later. there’s  time to untangle his messy coping mechanisms, to decide what this is and what it could become. for now, it’s enough to kiss like two people who’ve been suppressing so much for so long. for jude, it feels like a long exhale after holding his breath. its feels like relief, like a much needed respite. 

the elevator dings, and they jump apart just as the doors slide open. a staff member is standing on the other side, clearly trying not to stare. jude is too happy to feel embarrased.

“buenas noches!” jude says brightly, winking at the man before grabbing y/n’s hand and pulling her out of the elevator, their fingers intertwined. 

III.

july 1, 2025 - things are heating up!🔥. the stars are conspiring to bring moments of ecstasy to you, cancer.

the first three months of jude and y/n dating flipped everything he'd pictured for his early 20s on its head: staying single, having fun, engaging in meaningless hookups that served their purpose but left no emotional trail behind. those plans flew out the window thanks to y/n, who makes him laugh until his stomach hurts, who became one of the few people in the world he feels truly himself with, who now goes out of her way to watch football because she knows how much it means to him.

plus he's having the best sex of his life. he really can't complain.

its the middle of summer, a couple days after his birthday and a few before he has to leave on the team's preseason tour. they're in birmingham, taking a quick two day trip before the craziness of their lives pulls them in different directions. jude spends the day showing her around the city—his old stomping grounds, the places that defined his childhood and adolescence. it feels amazing to share this part of himself with her, to show her the nooks and crannies of what makes him him. 

now they’re back in his house, indulging in other activities. 

“young denzel was so fine. i mean, he can still get it. he's aged like fine wine” she’d sighed earlier, her head resting on his chest. they were cuddling on his sofa, the mighty quinn playing on the tv. they were both slightly distracted: her scrolling through her phone, and jude absentmindedly admiring the bracelet she'd gifted him for his birthday. (jobe had caught him doing the same at breakfast and muttered something about people in love being disgusting)

jude had side eyed her, hand resting lazily on her hip. “was he finer than me?”

"yeah" she'd said without skipping a beat. "definitely"

he'd gasped, feigning offense. "you're supposed to say no. i'm your boyfriend!"

"you're not far off from him, i guess" she'd teased.

"you guess?"

"you asked" she shrugged, fighting a smile. then after a slight pause, "you know, i dated a guy that looked a lot like him once. he was sooo-"

"right that's it" he said, grabbing the remote and turning off the tv. "no more movie nights with you"

"oh no" she deadpanned, tone dripping with sarcasm as she removed herself from his arms and faced him. "how am going to survive without your 28th rewatch of training day?"

jude couldn't help the grin spreading across his face. he couldn't never stay mad at her; not even pretend mad. before she could react, he grabbed her and gently flung her onto the couch cushions, eliciting a surprised squeak as he pinned her down and started tickling her. her giggles spilled out loudly, her protests coming out in breathless half sentences as he attacked every ticklish spot he could find.

one thing had led to another — heated kisses, a move to his bedroom, clothes thrown off frantically, hands wandering—and now here they are, her body curving towards him, her face contorted in pleasure as pounds into her.

she’s so slick, taking him all at once, and jude’s body has no choice but to surrender to its most primal instincts. in and out. plunge in then retreat. he’s dizzy with pleasure, but even through it, he can’t help but feel a little salty about her earlier comments.

"bet offbrand denzel couldn't make you feel like this" jude murmurs against her ear, his voice low and rough. the rhythm of his hips snapping forward punctuates his words.

her nails drag down his back, leaving faint trails as she gasped "he wouldn’t even have to try"

he nips at the soft skin of her neck. "guess i’ll just have to prove i’m better won’t i?"

she's so tight and warm and wet, he doesn't ever want this to stop. his movements grew deeper, more deliberate, and he smirks when she cries out his name, her hands gripping his shoulders like her life depended on it. "say it" he demands, voice a mix of amusement and lust. "say i’m better"

"you’re-oh god, you’re such an idiot" she manages between moans, refusing to give in completely, though her body betrays her with how eagerly it responds to his every touch.

"wrong answer" jude mutters, his lips brushing hers before he kissed her deeply, swallowing her protests and replacing them with soft whimpers.

his pace quickens, each thrust dragging a gasp or a broken words from her lips. jude leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear, his voice dipping lower. "admit it" he murmurs, his tone slightly smug. "i'm the best you've ever had"

she doesn't respond, and jude can't blame her, they're fucking so good he can't think straight now. and then, as if she can sense he's about to lose control, she gasps, "don't come. not yet. don't stop, please, baby"

he grits his teeth and tries to obey. then she brings him impossibly closer, so their sweaty bodies are pressed up against each other, and kisses him. and all he can think is mine. this beautiful, sweet girl is writhing in pleasure under him and she's his. he'll thank his lucky stars forever.

afterward, they lie tangled together on his bed, having only moved to discard the condom and clean up. their hearts drum in tandem, fast and loud. y/n looks drowsy, her eyelids heavy.

"i lied, by the way" she murmurs slowly against his chest.

"about what?"

"about dating someone that looked like young denzel washington" she giggles. "i made that up to get you riled up"

jude bites her shoulder playfully. "i hate you"

what he really wants to say is, i love you.

IV.

september 17, 2025 - communication is key, cancer 🗣️. today, the stars urge you to focus on how you express yourself. be clear and open in your communication—it’s the foundation for building trust and understanding.

jude can’t shake the feeling that something is off, and it’s gnawing at him.

he’d flown out of madrid the night before for a champions league away game, catching up with y/n for a bit after settling into his hotel room before calling it a night. now, its the afternoon of the next day and he’s in the locker room gearing up for their final training before the match, and he's feeling uneasy because he hasn't heard from y/n since.

he’d texted her his usual good morning when he woke up. no reply. after breakfast, he’d sent her a funny tiktok, something he knew would usually get a quick response, but still, nothing.

it wasn’t like her, and the silence was starting to weigh on him.

the concern he felt earlier turns into irritation as afternoon turns into evening. if y/n was upset with him, why wouldn’t she just say so? the silent treatment didn’t solve anything, and it wasn’t like her either. they’d always been the type to talk things out.

after training, he tries to distract himself. he joins the boys for a round of video games, their laughter and trash talk filling the hotel room. but every few minutes, his eyes flick to his phone, waiting for a reply that doesn’t come. each notification he gets, from group chats to random emails to that stupid astrology app just irritates him further.

they’ve never gone a whole day without talking. ever. the thought nags at him, and as stubborn as y/n can be, jude knows himself: he always caves first. always.

by the time the boys leave his room, jude is pacing, phone in hand. he sighs heavily and hits the facetime button, his thumb hovering over the screen for a split second before he presses call.

y/n’s face appears on the screen when the call connects, and jude’s irritation completely disappears the moment he sees her. she looks exhausted. her curls are a mess, dark circles under her eyes, and there’s something guarded in the way she looks at him.

“hi, babe” he says softly, clearing his throat. “you good? you weren’t responding to my messages all day”

“i’m good" she says curtly.

he waits for her to say more, but she stays silent. he feels a pang of hurt and irritation again. no asking how his day was? how he's feeling before the match?

"how was your day?" he tries.

"fine"

"what did you get up to? how were classes?" he tries again.

"okay"

jude exhales loudly, visibly frustrated. "can i get a response that's more than one word?"

he watches as she shifts around in her seat. "well, i couldn't get a word in last night so i thought what's the point?"

"what?" jude furrows his eyebrows, genuinely confused.

"you were going on and on about your match and your photoshoot coming up and i wanted to tell you about how this exam tomorrow is stressing me out-" her voice wobbles over the last few words and she pauses for a bit, lips pursed and eyes glossy. "- but you couldn't pay attention for the life of you"

jude is silent, jaw slack as he watches his girlfriend on the other end wipe a stray tear away because of him. in his head, nothing seemed amiss last night during their call. but she wasn't lying; he was venting a lot about the match and some logistical issues his agents were worried about for his next shoot. and yeah, maybe he hadn’t given her the space to speak, hadn’t noticed the subtle shifts in her tone or the demeanor that might’ve hinted at how overwhelmed she was feeling.

he curses himself under his breath, because now he realizes that he hadn't even checked their shared calendar the past couple of days, so he hadn't even known about the exam. and to think he picked up the phone because he was annoyed at her.

“y/n” he says, voice low and filled with remorse. “i-i’m so, so sorry. i didn’t mean to-” he stops himself, groaning softly as he facepalms. “i messed up. i wasn’t paying attention, and that’s on me. i’m really, really sorry”

she sniffles. "its okay"

"please don't cry"

"i'm not crying because of you, idiot" she snorts. "i'm crying because i'm stressed out"

jude fully lays down on the bed. "okay, how can I help?"

y/n sighs, wiping her cheeks as she looks at him through the screen. "you can't exactly help me pass this exam, jude"

"no, but I can help you feel less stressed" he says earnestly, his voice softer now. "talk to me, babe. tell me everything. what’s been going on?"

she hesitates for a moment, but when she starts talking, it’s as if a dam breaks. the words spill out in a rush, tumbling as she tells him everything; the material is so much harder than she anticipated, no matter how much she studies it feels like nothing sticks, and the crushing pressure to excel is suffocating her. she pours it all out, every frustration, every fear, every doubt.

jude nods, listening intently. “yeah, that sounds rough. and i made it worse. i should’ve checked the calendar, and i should’ve asked how you were feeling. instead i was just rambling about my stuff"

"you didn’t mean to" she says softly, though her tone is still tinged with exhaustion.

"but I did it, and I’m sorry" he replies, sitting up now, his elbows resting on his knees. “look, communication is our thing, yeah? it’s what makes us work. we can’t let that slide. i don’t ever want you to feel like I’m not here for you, especially when you need me the most”

she gives him a small smile. “and i shouldn’t have just shut down on you today. i could’ve told you how i was feeling instead of ghosting”

“so lets agree no more bottling things up” jude says, a faint grin tugging at his lips. “if one of us is stressed or annoyed or just having a bad day, we say it. no silent treatments, no guessing games”

y/n nods, her shoulders relaxing. “deal”

“good” jude says, his voice lighter now.

they spend the rest of the call catching up on the little things. she shows him the nails she’s planning to get soon, scrolling through her pinterest to show him the design. he mentions that he’s getting a trim in the morning, which prompts her to tease him mercilessly, saying he probably spends more time in his barber’s chair than he does on the football pitch. he quips back that its probably less time than she spends obsessively curating her pinterest boards.

they say their i love yous and good nights, and jude heads to bed, already feeling lighter and more relaxed about the game tomorrow. she has that effect on him, y/n. a way of making him feel seen, loved, and just serene.

he wants to keep her forever.

V.

january 1, 2026 - gratitude grounds you, cancer. 🌟 take a moment today to appreciate everything you've accomplished, as it will give you the clarity and confidence to take the next steps with purpose✨

enzo is standing behind the counter when they enter the cafe, a smile spreading across his face when he recognizes them. it feels serendipitous, almost fated, that they're greeted by the same barista who served them on this day last year, the day they first met.

"ah, my favorite lovebirds!" he exclaims. "happy new year! what will it be today?"

they order their drinks and settle into a corner table, the same one they’d sat at a year ago. between sips of coffee, they make plans to stop by the pharmacy on their walk back to pick up ibuprofen for the hangover still lingering over them.

then, as if it’s the most natural part of the conversation, jude pulls out a key from his pocket and slides it across the table. his expression is soft, his voice as confident as the day he’d first asked to sit with her. “move in with me” he clears his throat. "please?"

she blinks, caught off guard for only a moment, before her lips curve into a smile. “ yes. i mean, i would love to”

it was a long time coming. their relationship is going strength to strength, despite their seemingly different worlds. all because, at their core, they're the same. jude feels proud that he's built something great with someone so special- even looking at her now makes his heart splutter, he's never going to be used to how beautiful she is. most of all he's proud that they’ve managed to carve out a space in each other for each other.

every time she stayed over, every morning they woke up tangled in the same sheets (her inevitably hogging the covers to his annoyance) it felt right. so this question has been building for a while, and when he finally asked it, her answer, immediate and without hesitation, feels like the most natural thing in the world.

they walk out of the cafe after a while, arm in arm. he steals glances at y/n walking beside him and he feels an overwhelming sense of gratitude. for that stupid astrology app and enzo's GREEN PEACE pin. but most of all, for the kismet of that day a year ago, for everything they’ve built since, and for everything still ahead.

[thoughtfulchaos773]

Sorry my English isn’t great but Can we have more thoughts on Syd & Carm and sex? How do you think they would both go about interacting with it and each other if we ever got a scene of them like that? (Which I don’t think we will but one can hope 😭)

Don't apologize! Fun fact- I used to write E fanfiction, but nothing for sydcarmy (yet maybe in the future)

But if we're talking cannon: it would happen in the daylight similar to the table scene. Morning after and just the beginning. There wouldn't be anxiousness from Carmy in the morning or showing Carmy's mind somewhere else. He's very present with Sydney and always aware of where she's at. She takes space in his head anyway - so sex would be all about her pleasure and strong eye contact.

You know what would be great for me? They don't even have to show explicity sex, show me the morning after Sydney has spent the night and Carmy is ready to go down on her- she's the first thing on his mind in the morning and she's in bed- with him, post sex? Yeah, he's not wasting a moment.

After all, it’s FX—it's an MA-rated show, so we already expect explicit love scenes and how they will be portrayed. Give us a good surprise! They've already shown explicit positions of certain characters, so why not illustrate how things are different this time?

Here are my thoughts on Sydney and Carmy: it's a popular belief that Sydney is the dominant one, I think Carmy actually holds a more dominant role in bed, at least at first. There’s a suggestion that in the end, Sydney will always have emotional power over him; she has his heart in her hands and ultimately calls the shots when it comes to the core of their relationship.

I think based on the show- Sydney has a praise kink, but it seems to be specific to Carmy. She pokes fun at Marcus in the show when he gives her praise. But Carmy gives her praise? She melts. So imagine Carmy giving her so much praise during sex?

Their relationship shows how Carmy pulls vulnerability out of her when he reads her. Being a dominant partner is a skill; it helps the more submissive partner switch off their racing thoughts and open up. For the submissive partner to really let go, they’ve got to trust that their dom will catch them if they fall. If the dom doesn’t support them, that’s when problems come up.

Sydney and Carmy play these roles on the show, dont they? and it's a challenge. Carmy is working on being someone Sydney can rely on to catch her when she falls, and for Sydney, she knows how scary it is to completely give in. When Carmy is confident enough, he reassures her by saying things like, “I won’t let you” showing that he’s up for the challenge and ready to give her what she needs. He's ready to care for her because she cares for so many people- so wouldn't it be nice for her for someone to take care of her? To make her happy and satisfied?

For Carmy, stepping into the dom role is great practice. He wasn't really feeling it when Claire was leading the chase; she lead the getting his number, in their private scene notice she's the one leading the questions to get to know him more, she's the one in the morning telling him "everything is fine" the morning after- Claire is the one on top of him while Carmy sits up at night.

Carmy wants to build enough confidence to take charge himself with Sydney, and after she gives over, he looks to Sydney for a bit of reassurance, asking her if she liked what happened. He’ll gently ask her to share what she enjoys and what doesn’t work for her - Carmy is the one who leads with questions.

Even if Carmy is the dominant one, Sydney won't make it easy for him. She doesn't make it easy for him anyway, and he deserves to be questioned and challenged as she does in canon.

[kitkat13001]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚞𝚗, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚎

drunken monologues, confused because it’s not like i’m falling in love i just want you to do me no good and you look like you could the look of love, the rush of blood the “she’s with me”s, the gallic shrugs

⤷ denki kaminari x reader

⤷ denki calls reader “ma’am” once as a joke (no pronouns used), brief mentions of alcohol and small descriptions of anxiety, title and lyrics from arctic monkeys’ “no. 1 party anthem”

you didn’t feel like going out tonight. 

you had told denki this much when he barged into your room after you’d declined his million calls, instead finding you buried under a mountain of blankets just a few hours away from midnight on the 31st. 

not the best way to start the new year, he’d pointed out. you had only grumbled, tossing over in your bed and ignoring him. 

you’re surprised he’s not at the party right now. surely everyone else you two know is there, if the pictures mina, sero and kirishima had blown up your phone with were any indication. 

denki nudges your lifeless body and your grumble again, louder this time as he plops himself down on your bed beside you. 

“come onnn, it’s new year’s eve! you can’t go into a new year moping around like this, you need to get out and have some fun!”

unfortunately, he makes a pretty compelling case. it was something stupid that had you in such a bad mood, and getting out would probably do you a great deal of good. but then again, the party…the lights, the crowd, and ugh not even to mention the noise…

it’s like denki can sense your dilemma, the crack in your stubborn attitude, and he jumps at the opportunity to sway you. 

“pleeeaseee, you said you would come!” he whines, tugging on your arm insistently. 

contrary to popular belief, denki is actually very hard to say “no” to. 

you narrow your eyes at him, but you can’t muster up any malice in the face of his big golden eyes. 

you hold out for another couple seconds, internally debating, but he just keeps pouting and you know he won’t leave you alone until you agree and his hands on you are so warm and he’s so infuriatingly cute and—

“ugh, fine!” you groan, pushing him away so he can’t see the way you flush. “go away so i can change!”

“yes, ma’am,” he replies quickly with a cheeky smile. “so bossy.”

the party is in full swing once you two arrive, and it’s not even midnight yet. it’s packed, just like you thought. you stick tight to denki's side as he weaves through the crowd with a smile, ever his charming little self. his body against yours as you clutch his arm is the only one that doesn’t make your skin crawl.

it takes a few drinks to loosen you up, but once the tension has bled from your shoulders you’re out dancing with mina and jirou like it’s nobody’s business. 

you’re not sure at what point denki left your side, but it tugs at the back of your mind that even though you’re enjoying yourself, you kind of miss him. 

you try to shrug the odd feeling off, throwing yourself back into the dancing and the drinking as the music drowns out every thought from your head. 

it’s a good distraction, probably what you needed just about now. not just the dancing, but the party—seeing your friends, getting out of your head. you’d been so down lately, and without good reason, too, which just made you more frustrated. 

it’s good you’re getting it all out there, isn’t it? isn’t this what you’re supposed to do? dance it out, drink it away, crash and sleep it off, then wake up to a new day and start over again? 

someone bumps into you from behind just then, and the hypnotic haze you’ve been wallowing in begins to clear. that claustrophobic feeling is coming back, and suddenly the music is too loud and the people are too close and you find yourself stumbling for the patio door. 

the fresh night air is a godsend and you stand there for a moment, leaning against the sliding glass door and taking in deep lungfuls of it. 

there’s a little couch setup around an empty bonfire pit, and that’s where you drop down to look at the sky as you regain your bearings. 

it’s also where denki finds you when he comes out of the house, eyes alight at the sight of you. it makes your heart jump. 

“hey! i was looking for you just now.”

“yeah, sorry,” you murmur. “crowd was too much, i was starting to feel…urgh, y’know?”

“yeah,” he agrees sheepishly, ambling over. “it was really packed in there.”

he takes a seat beside you, propping his feet up on the brick pit in front of you. 

you feel his golden eyes on you, but you keep your gaze skyward. 

“you okay?” he asks after a minute, carefully nudging his leg against yours. 

your only response is a half-hearted shrug. 

“you wanna go?”

you think about it for a second, the allure of home calling out to you, but the night breeze feels so cool on your warm skin and the steadiness of denki’s body against yours brings you peace. you don’t really want to go. 

“not just yet,” you tell him, letting yourself lean against him more. “do you think…can we stay like this a little longer?”

“yeah. yeah, we can stay as long as you like.” denki opens his arms, letting you kick your feet up on the couch and nestle comfortably into his side. you rest your head on his bicep, surprised by how sturdy the muscle is beneath you. you knew denki was fit—it was impossible not to be in this course—but it’s never something you’ve really thought about. or felt. 

the two of you sit in soft silence, watching as fireworks light up the sky. you can hear denki humming softly to the music still pouring out of the house. it makes you smile. 

the yelling inside the house is getting louder and you check your phone. 11:59. they must be starting the countdown now. 

ten. 

“hey denki?”

“yeah?”

nine. 

“thanks for making me come out tonight. it’s…”

eight. 

“i’ve had a better time than i thought i would,” you admit, toying with his fingers from where his arm is draped gently across your collarbone. 

seven. 

“really? i felt kinda for bad dragging you out when i saw you out here by yourself,” he replies with a nervous laugh. 

six. 

“well, maybe. but ‘m not by myself anymore,” you tell him, allowing yourself a cheeky little smile. you tilt your head back to look up at him, and he’s beaming at you. 

five. 

the fireworks are lighting up his face in the most beautiful colors. even from upside down, denki is probably the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen. 

four. 

it’s faint from under all the shouting inside, but you can still hear the music. you love this song. 

three. 

you reach up to trace your fingers gently over denki’s freckles. they’ve faded some in the winter, but they’re still there if you look closely. his hand comes up to intertwine your fingers, holding them to his face.

two. 

you’re leaning in, both of you, like magnets. you let your eyes close as denki pulls you closer, the music and shouting and fireworks fading into the distance as your lips meet his. 

one. 

it’s a long time before you separate, and even longer before either of you even think about getting up from the patio couch. 

“happy new year, denki,” you murmur through a little smile. 

even though you’re both looking up at the sky, you can practically hear the matching smile in his voice. “happy new year.”

i meant to get this out closer to new years, but i’m actually happy with how it turned out either way. denki is so special to me. take care and much love,

- 𝚔𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚢 ! 🩷🩷

[mywhisperingwords]

am i what you wanted? | fred g. weasley

summary: casual. no strings. just something to forget the loneliness. right? word count: 7.6k masterlist

The air at the party feels heavier than usual, like everyone is trying too hard to pretend they’re having a good time.

You’ve spent most of the night nursing a drink you don’t particularly like, offering polite smiles to people you barely know. It’s not your scene, but you came anyway because that’s what friends do—they drag you out, convince you it’ll be “fun,” and leave you regretting it by the second hour.

You’re just about ready to slip away when you spot him—Fred Weasley.

He’s leaning against the kitchen counter, casual and effortless as always, but there’s something different tonight. The usual spark in his eyes is dimmer, his smile not quite as wide. He’s talking to someone, but his gaze keeps drifting, like he’s only half paying attention.

You consider leaving without a word. After all, you’ve spent years perfecting the art of avoiding him. Not because you dislike him—quite the opposite.

Your stupid schoolgirl crush on him hasn’t quite fizzled out, no matter how much time has passed.

And of course, there was the matter of his latest relationship, a whirlwind romance with someone you considered a friend, Leah.

It would be wrong to approach him now, wouldn’t it?

But then Fred’s eyes land on you, and there’s no escaping. He gives you a faint smile, a shadow of his usual grin, and lifts his drink in a lazy sort of greeting. It’s an invitation, subtle but unmistakable. Against your better judgment, you cross the room.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he says, his voice low enough to cut through the background noise without effort.

You shrug, trying to seem unaffected. “Alicia dragged me out. Said I needed to get a life or something.”

Fred huffs a quiet laugh, looking down into his glass. “Sounds like something she’d say. George said the same to me, actually. Guess misery loves company.”

The comment surprises you. Fred doesn’t usually talk like that—so openly, so vulnerable. It’s enough to make you pause, to glance at him more carefully. “You don’t seem miserable,” you say, testing the waters.

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he takes a long sip of his drink and stares past you, like he’s trying to find the right words. “You’d be surprised,” he finally says, his tone softer now.

It’s an opening, one you hadn’t expected but can’t ignore. “What happened?”

Fred glances around, his expression unreadable, before gesturing toward the balcony. “Do you mind? It’s a bit loud in here.”

You follow him outside, where the night air is cool and quiet compared to the chaos inside. He leans against the railing, staring out at the city lights, and you stand beside him, unsure of what to say.

“She left,” he says abruptly, and it takes you a moment to realize he’s talking about her—his ex.

“Oh.” It’s all you can manage.

Fred smiles faintly, but there’s no humor in it. “Yeah. Not the dramatic kind of leaving either. No big fight, no slamming doors. Just… stopped caring, I guess. Said it wasn’t enough for her.”

The confession stirs something in you, a mix of sympathy and something sharper, harder to define.

You’ve never known Fred to be anything but confident, self-assured. Seeing him like this—guarded, almost uncertain—it’s disarming.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, and you mean it.

He glances at you then, really looks at you, and for a moment, it feels like he’s seeing you for the first time. “It’s funny, isn’t it? How loneliness sneaks up on you. One day you think you’re fine, and the next, it’s like you can’t breathe.”

You nod, because you understand more than you’d like to admit. “Yeah. It’s awful.”

Fred studies you for a moment longer before offering a faint, almost wistful smile. “You get it.”

The words settle between you, warm and unspoken, and before you can overthink it, you say, “Maybe we’re just terrible at choosing the right people.”

Fred laughs then, a soft, genuine sound that eases some of the tension in your chest. “Maybe we are.”

It feels like an unspoken agreement, a quiet acknowledgment of shared pain. And when he leans just a little closer, his shoulder brushing against yours, you don’t pull away.

&

The door slams shut behind you both, barely closed before Fred’s hands are on your waist, pulling you closer. His mouth is on yours again, urgent and consuming, and the world outside this moment ceases to exist.

You’re not sure how it started—or maybe you do—but you’re too caught up in the feel of him, in the way he kisses like he’s unraveling a part of himself he’s never shown anyone.

Your back hits the edge of the couch, but Fred doesn’t stop. He moves with you, stumbling through the dark like neither of you can think beyond each other.

You barely make it to the bedroom. A trail of discarded shoes and jackets marks the path, forgotten in the haze.

He pauses only briefly, just enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours. “This…” he begins, his voice rough, barely a whisper. “This is what I needed. Something… easy. No expectations.”

The words are quiet but land with a weight that sticks somewhere in your chest. You know what he means—casual, uncomplicated, something to dull the ache of loneliness he spoke of earlier.

Your heart lurches, but your mind, clouded with want and the intoxicating proximity of him, nods before you can think it through. “Yeah,” you murmur, barely above a whisper. “Me too.”

The lie tastes bitter even as the kiss resumes, as his lips trail down your neck, as his hands find your skin. You tell yourself you’re fine with this. It’s Fred, and it’s what he wants. Isn’t it better to have this than nothing at all?

When morning comes, he’s gone.

You’re not surprised—he doesn’t strike you as the type to linger—but the silence in the room feels deafening. The sheets are cold where he was, and you stare at the ceiling, replaying his words in your head.

Something easy. No expectations.

Your agreement, muffled and uncertain, rings louder now. You agreed. This is what you signed up for. So why does your chest ache? Why does it feel like you’ve made a mistake you can’t undo?

You sit up, the mess of the night scattered around you—a shirt draped over the chair, an overturned glass on the table. It’s all so mundane, yet it feels like the air has shifted in your room, like the walls are pressing in.

You bury your face in your hands, letting out a slow, measured breath. Maybe this wasn’t the right decision. But you can’t change it now. Fred was what you wanted for so long, wasn’t he? Maybe this is all you get.

Maybe this is all you’re allowed to have.

You hope you can convince yourself of that.

&

The pub is buzzing, laughter and conversation spilling out from every corner as you sit wedged between Alicia and George.

Fred is across from you, casually leaning back in his chair, a pint of beer balanced between his long fingers. His laughter blends with the noise around you, effortlessly charming, as always.

It’s easy to forget, in moments like this, that this is supposed to be casual. Easy.

You catch yourself watching him longer than you should, noting the way his hair falls into his eyes when he laughs, the way his smile lingers just enough to make your stomach twist.

You remind yourself to look away.

The conversation circles back to someone’s recent breakup, a natural segue into a casual remark about Fred’s ex.

It’s Angelina, sitting two seats down, who says it without malice—just an innocent mention of the girl who was once by his side.

“You were so into her, Fred. Thought you two were endgame, honestly,” she says with a smile, tipping her glass toward him.

Fred’s expression flickers, just for a second, but it’s enough to change the energy at the table. The easy grin falters, his fingers tightening around the glass. “Yeah, well,” he says, voice light but guarded, “things don’t always work out the way you think they will.”

The group catches on quickly, steering the conversation elsewhere, but you can’t take your eyes off him. There’s something in the way his shoulders tense, in the way he avoids eye contact, that makes your chest tighten.

The rest of the evening is a blur of noise and small talk. You find yourself gravitating toward the bar, needing space, needing air. But you don’t get far.

Fred appears beside you, leaning on the counter with a quiet sigh. His eyes are darker now, shadows of something unspoken behind them. He doesn’t say anything, just glances at you, and suddenly the air feels heavier.

“Come with me,” he mutters all of the sudden, so low you almost don’t hear it.

You hesitate, your heart skipping, but you follow.

He leads you down a narrow hallway, past the kitchen, until you’re standing outside the bathroom door. He checks once over his shoulder before pulling you in, locking the door behind him.

“Fred, what are you—”

He cuts you off, his mouth crashing into yours with a force that takes your breath away.

It’s messy, hurried, like he’s trying to drown something out. His hands find your waist, pressing you against the cold tile wall, and you can feel the tension in his grip, the desperation in the way he kisses you.

It’s different this time—more frantic, less controlled. There’s no room to think, no space for words, just the heat of him against you and the quiet hum of the pub muffled beyond the door.

When it’s over, you’re both catching your breath, the silence settling around you like a weight. Fred’s forehead rests against yours, and for a moment, it feels like he might say something—something real, something vulnerable.

But then he steps back, adjusting his shirt, his eyes not quite meeting yours. “Thanks,” he mutters, almost too softly, and the word hits you like a slap.

You blink, trying to find something to say, but he’s already unlocking the door, slipping out like nothing happened.

You’re left standing there, the cold tiles against your back, your pulse still racing. You stare at the empty space where he was, your mind replaying the moment in vivid detail.

Something about this feels wrong. But then again, wasn’t this what you agreed to?

&

It’s late. Later than late, really, with the kind of stillness in the air that only comes when the rest of the world is sleeping.

But you’re wide awake, perched on the edge of your couch with a half-empty glass of wine in your hand, listening to the faint hum of the city outside.

You don’t know why you’re waiting.

Or maybe you do, but admitting it feels like giving it more weight than it deserves.

It’s been a few days since you saw Fred—since he showed up at your door for the first time, with that crooked smile and a cocky, unspoken challenge in his eyes.

You hadn’t known what to expect then, and you still don’t know now. But when you hear the knock at your door, your chest tightens in anticipation anyway.

You set the glass down and cross the room, opening the door to find him leaning against the frame, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket.

“Bit late for a social call, don’t you think?” you tease, though your voice wavers just slightly.

Fred grins, that easy, practiced grin that always feels like it’s hiding something. “Thought you might say that. But then, you’re still awake, aren’t you?”

You roll your eyes and step aside, letting him in. He walks past you, his steps slow and deliberate, like he’s taking his time to assess the space.

It’s not the first time he’s been here, but he looks around like it is, his gaze lingering on the small details you’d never think to notice.

“You always keep it this tidy?” he asks, turning to face you with a smirk.

“I knew you were coming, didn’t I?” you shoot back, closing the door behind him.

Fred laughs, the sound low and warm, and suddenly the room feels smaller.

It’s always like this with him—this electric push and pull that leaves you feeling off-balance and exhilarated all at once.

He shrugs off his jacket, tossing it carelessly onto the back of a chair, and then he’s sitting on your couch like he’s been doing it for years.

You join him, keeping a safe distance between you, but it doesn’t matter. The tension fills the space anyway, a quiet, unspoken thing neither of you is willing to address.

“So,” Fred says, his eyes flicking to the wine glass you left on the table. “Drinking alone, are we? Rough night?”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “Not rough. Just… quiet.”

Fred hums, leaning back and stretching an arm along the back of the couch. His fingers are close enough to brush your shoulder, but they don’t.

“Well,” he says after a beat, “I’m good at making noise. Want me to liven things up?”

You turn to look at him, arching a brow at his choice of words. “That depends. What exactly do you have in mind?”

He grins again, wider this time, and before you know it, you’re caught up in one of his ridiculous stories—something about a prank that went wrong back at Hogwarts and ended with George covered in soot and screaming about cursed cauldrons.

You’re laughing so hard your sides hurt, the kind of laugh that feels like it’s shaking loose all the tension you’ve been carrying for days. Fred is laughing too, his head thrown back, his shoulders shaking.

And for a moment, it’s easy to forget the doubts gnawing at the edges of your mind.

But then the story ends, and the laughter fades, and the room feels too quiet again.

Fred’s laughter dies in his throat first. He turns his head toward you, the space between you charged, his expression softening as his eyes flicker to your lips.

“You’re staring,” you whisper, trying to keep your tone light, but your pulse betrays you.

“Am I?” he murmurs back, his voice low and teasing, but there’s something in his gaze that makes it hard to breathe.

You don’t know who moves first—maybe it’s him, maybe it’s you—but suddenly, the space between you disappears. His mouth meets yours in a rush of heat and hunger, and your body reacts without thought, your hands tangling in his hair as he pulls you closer.

He tastes like mint and something else, something unmistakably Fred, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the world doesn’t exist.

It starts like it always does—feverish and desperate, hands searching, breaths stolen. Fred’s hands find the hem of your shirt, tugging it over your head, and your back hits the cushions of the couch before you even realize you’ve moved.

But somewhere in the middle of it—between the hurried kisses and the whispered curses—something shifts.

His touch slows, his fingers trailing along your skin with an almost reverent softness. He presses his forehead to yours, his breath warm against your lips, and for a fleeting moment, it feels like there’s more to this than just a casual arrangement.

Your chest tightens, and you open your mouth to say something, anything, but the words catch in your throat.

Fred pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you, his eyes searching yours like he’s trying to figure out if you feel it too.

But then the moment passes, and he closes his eyes, shaking his head like he’s dismissing some unwelcome thought. He presses a lingering kiss to your collarbone before shifting his weight and standing, grabbing his jacket from the chair.

“Leaving already?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Fred hesitates, his back to you. “Yeah,” he says, his tone lighter than the moment calls for. “Gotta keep you wanting more, don’t I?”

The grin he throws over his shoulder is forced, you think, but you don’t call him on it.

You watch him leave, the door clicking shut behind him, and you’re left alone again, your chest tight and your mind racing.

This is what you signed up for, you remind yourself. Casual. Fun. No strings attached.

So why does it already feel like so much more?

&

The party isn’t much different from the last one. A haze of laughter and music hangs in the air, the dimly lit living room thrumming with energy as bodies mill about. You’re leaning against a wall, clutching a drink, when you spot him across the room.

Fred.

Your breath catches—not because you didn’t expect him to be here, but because it’s the first time you’ve seen him like this since everything began.

In the few weeks since that night, he’s always shown up at your door under cover of darkness, a secret that slips away before the world wakes. Now, he’s here, among friends, out in the open. It feels… surreal.

His eyes catch yours, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face before he looks away. You should probably do the same, pretend he’s just another person at the party, someone you barely know outside of shared jokes and casual conversations.

But something about seeing him here, the same Fred everyone else knows, tangles in your chest.

The game between you feels different now. Riskier.

You manage to avoid each other for most of the night, though you’re painfully aware of him. The way his laugh carries over the music. The effortless charm in the way he leans against the kitchen counter, surrounded by people.

But it’s when you least expect it that it happens.

You’ve slipped into the quiet hallway, hoping for a moment to breathe. He appears from nowhere, leaning casually against the wall a few feet away. His hands are shoved in his pockets, and he looks at you like you’re the only person in the world.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he says, low enough that no one else could hear.

You swallow, refusing to meet his gaze. “You’ve been avoiding me too.”

A ghost of a smirk crosses his face. “Fair enough.”

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The silence stretches, filled only by the distant hum of the party, the bass thudding like a heartbeat. Then he shifts closer—too close, considering the thin walls and prying eyes just a room away.

“This is risky,” you murmur, though you don’t move away.

“Since when do you mind risky?” he counters, his voice teasing but quiet. There’s a flicker of warmth in his tone, a reminder of those moments when he’s let his guard down just enough to let you in.

You should push him away, but you don’t.

Instead, you glance up, and for the briefest second, he looks at you like he’s about to say something important. Something real. But he doesn’t. He’s Fred, after all.

Instead, his hand brushes yours, a fleeting touch that sends a shiver down your spine. “You know I shouldn’t be here,” he mutters, more to himself than to you.

You hesitate, your chest tightening. “Then why are you?”

He doesn’t answer right away. His fingers graze your wrist, light and hesitant, before he steps back, creating a distance that feels far too wide.

“I shouldn’t be,” he says again, as though repeating it will make it true. Then, softer, “But I am.”

The air between you feels heavier than it should. He’s pulling away again, retreating into the shell of secrecy he’s so carefully built. It frustrates you more than it should.

“You don’t have to make this so complicated,” you say, surprising even yourself.

Fred’s jaw tightens. He glances at the door leading back to the party, his gaze distant, before his eyes flicker back to you. “You think it’s that easy?”

You don’t answer, because you don’t know how to.

Instead, he leans in, his voice a whisper. “Careful. Someone might see us.” His words are teasing, but there’s an edge of something sharper beneath them.

And then he’s gone, disappearing back into the crowd as though nothing happened.

You’re left standing there, your heart racing and your thoughts tangled in ways you can’t quite unravel.

The rest of the night passes in a blur. You don’t see him again, but his presence lingers like a shadow, like a secret you can’t escape.

And when you finally leave the party, stepping out into the cool night air, you can’t help but wonder if this game you’re playing is one you’ll ever win—or if it’s one you’ll lose before it even truly begins.

&

It’s been days since the party.

Days of wondering if Fred will show up again, if you’ll hear that familiar knock on your door in the dead of night. He doesn’t call, doesn’t send any owl—not that you expected him to. But his absence still gnaws at you.

When the knock finally comes, it’s past midnight. You hesitate for a moment, standing barefoot in the hallway, staring at the door like it might vanish if you blink. Then, as if on instinct, you reach for the handle.

Fred is there, leaning against the frame, his hair tousled, his expression unreadable. He doesn’t say anything, just steps inside, his hands finding your waist almost immediately.

It’s fast, like always. A trail of kisses down your neck, murmured words you can barely catch, and then you’re stumbling toward the bedroom. It’s almost routine now—the way he knows exactly how to pull you apart, the way he leaves before the sun comes up.

It’s the same pattern, the same urgency, like he’s trying to chase away whatever’s haunting him.

Only this time, he leaves without saying much of anything. A quick glance back, a muttered “I’ll see you,” and then the door clicks shut behind him.

The quiet that follows feels heavier than it should. You sit on the edge of the bed for a long time, staring at the empty doorway, wondering why the familiar ache feels sharper tonight.

&

Alicia’s offer couldn’t come at a better time. “You need a reset,” she says, twirling her straw in her iced tea. “Seriously, this guy is perfect. Smart, funny, normal. Give it a shot.”

It’s not like you have anything better to do, so you agree.

The date is fine. Fine. Paul is nice—charming, even—but there’s no spark. By the end of the night, you’re both laughing about how you’d make better friends than anything else.

It’s late when you finally get home, the streets quiet and dimly lit. You’re fishing for your keys when you notice the shadow near your door.

Fred.

He’s leaning against the frame, his hands stuffed into his pockets. He looks up as you approach, his gaze flickering to the key in your hand before settling on your face.

“You’re out late,” he says, his voice casual.

“I had plans,” you reply, matching his tone as you unlock the door. You don’t elaborate, and neither does he.

Inside, the tension follows you, crackling in the air as you set your bag down and turn to face him. He’s watching you, his expression neutral but his shoulders taut, like he’s holding something back.

“How were the plans?” he asks, his voice steady, but there’s an edge to it you can’t quite place.

“They were fine,” you say. “We’re better off as friends.”

He nods, his lips pressing into a thin line, and for a moment, you think that’s the end of it. But then he’s stepping closer, his hands finding your waist like they always do.

This time, it’s different. His kisses are rougher, his grip firmer, but there’s something else underneath it—a quiet desperation, like he’s trying to claim something without admitting it. His hands linger longer, his lips move slower, and you let yourself lean into it, pretending not to notice the shift.

Afterward, he’s quiet again, lying beside you in the dark. The air feels heavier, and you can sense the walls going back up before he even moves to get dressed.

As he pulls on his shirt, he pauses, standing by the door with his back to you. For a moment, it seems like he’s about to say something, but instead, he runs a hand through his hair and exhales softly.

Then, just before he leaves, he glances back over his shoulder, his gaze flickering to yours. “Let me know when you’re too busy.”

It’s barely a whisper, so quiet you almost miss it. But there’s something in the way he says it, something unsaid lurking beneath the words, that lingers long after he’s gone.

You sit there in the dark, replaying the moment over and over, wondering why it feels like he just said goodbye.

&

Angelina’s birthday party is already in full swing by the time you stumble through the door, only half-committed to being there. The laughter, the music, the clinking of glasses—it’s all too loud, too bright, too much.

But you came anyway, maybe out of habit, or maybe because part of you hoped you’d find a distraction in the chaos.

Fred is here. You noticed him immediately. He’s impossible not to notice, leaning against the bar, his easy smile tugging at something in your chest you’ve been trying to ignore. He hasn’t come near you, hasn’t even spared you more than a glance. But that glance—it felt like it saw too much.

You bury your feelings in your drink, letting the bitterness of it settle the knots in your stomach. It doesn’t help.

“Alright, what’s with the face?” Alicia’s voice cuts through the noise as she drops onto the couch beside you. “You look like someone just ran over your cat.”

“I’m fine,” you lie, swirling the last of your drink. “Just…thinking.”

“About your nonexistent love life again?” she teases, nudging your shoulder. “Seriously, you need to loosen up. Or at least stop picking all the wrong people.”

You force a laugh, but it feels hollow. Alicia doesn’t know. No one does. You’ve kept Fred a secret, just as he asked. The weight of it presses heavier tonight, threatening to spill over as you down the rest of your drink and reach for another.

As the night goes on, the alcohol blurs the edges of everything. Faces blend together, voices turn to static, and you’re left moping in the corner, the ache in your chest louder than any song playing.

Fred’s there, somewhere. You’ve caught glimpses of him—his easy posture stiffened, his smile more strained than usual. But he doesn’t approach, and you don’t give him the satisfaction of looking too long.

By the end of the night, most people have left, and the crowd has thinned out. You’re sitting on the couch, staring at the bottom of your empty glass, when a shadow falls over you.

“Let’s get you home,” Fred says, his voice low but firm.

You look up at him, the alcohol dulling your usual instincts. “I don’t need your help.”

“Yes, you do.” His tone leaves no room for argument, but there’s something gentler in his gaze, something that makes your chest tighten.

You don’t resist when he helps you up, his arm steady around your waist as he guides you out the door. The walk home is quiet, the chill of the night air biting at your skin. Fred doesn’t say much, and neither do you, but the silence feels heavier than usual.

When you finally reach your flat, he helps you inside, sitting you down on the couch as he disappears into the kitchen. He returns with a glass of water, kneeling in front of you.

“Drink,” he says simply.

You take the glass, your hands shaking slightly as you bring it to your lips.

“Fred,” you start after a moment, your voice barely above a whisper. “Stay.”

He looks at you, startled by the request. “I—”

“Please.” The word spills out before you can stop it, raw and pleading. “Just for the night. I don’t want to be alone.”

He hesitates, his expression flickering between something unreadable and something achingly vulnerable. Then, finally, he nods. “Alright.”

Relief washes over you as he helps you to your feet again, guiding you to your bedroom. He’s careful as he tucks you into bed, his hand lingering briefly on your shoulder before he steps back.

“You’ll stay?” you ask again, your voice softer now.

“I’ll stay,” he promises, his voice low and steady.

You don’t remember falling asleep.

When you wake up, the room is quiet, the sunlight streaming through the curtains. For a moment, you lie there, disoriented, the haze of last night still clinging to your thoughts.

Then you notice it—the bed is empty.

Your stomach drops, a hollow ache blooming in your chest as you sit up. The other side of the bed is cool to the touch, and for a moment, you wonder if he left as soon as you fell asleep. The ache sharpens, and you feel foolish for believing he’d actually stay.

Swinging your legs over the side of the bed, you bury your face in your hands. Of course, he left. Of course, this is what it always is with him—half-hearted promises and fleeting moments that never mean as much as you want them to.

It’s only when you lower your hands that you notice it.

A glass of water and a small packet of painkillers sit neatly on the nightstand.

Your breath catches as you reach for the glass, the pieces falling together in your mind. The bed might be cool now, but the faint warmth lingering on the pillow tells a different story.

And then you hear it—the faint click of your front door closing.

Your chest tightens, your heart pounding as you realize the truth: Fred stayed. He kept his promise.

The ache in your chest softens, replaced by something you can’t quite name. It’s not relief, not entirely. It’s something more fragile, more complicated.

He stayed.

And for now, that’s enough.

&

The pub feels suffocating tonight, the air heavy with laughter and music that’s a touch too loud. You’re sitting at the edge of the booth again, nursing the remnants of your drink while the conversation at the table flows around you. Fred is there too, only a few feet away but worlds apart, as always.

At least, that’s how it’s supposed to be.

But tonight, something is different. You’ve caught him looking at you more than once, a flicker of warmth in his gaze that lingers just a moment too long before he turns away.

And then there are the little things—how he slid the drinks menu your way when you couldn’t reach, the casual way his hand brushed yours when passing the salt, and the faint smirk on his lips when you dropped your napkin, like he found your clumsiness amusing.

It’s maddening. These small, almost imperceptible gestures that would mean nothing if it were anyone else, but with Fred, they feel like everything.

You glance his way now, trying not to linger. He’s leaned back in his chair, his long fingers drumming lazily against the table, his attention seemingly on George, who’s telling some animated story about a prank gone wrong. But then, as if he feels your eyes on him, Fred looks up.

The corners of his mouth twitch, and there it is again—that fleeting, private smile that feels like it’s meant just for you.

It’s a cruel kind of softness. The kind that makes you want more.

“Leaving soon?” His voice pulls you back, low enough that it barely cuts through the noise, and you realize he’s speaking to you.

Your heart skips. You shrug, trying to feign indifference. “Maybe. You?”

His smirk deepens, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. “Not yet.”

The words hang between you, unspoken but understood. The plan forms, unspoken as always. You’ll leave first, and he’ll follow.

When the clock creeps toward midnight, you push yourself up, offering the table a vague excuse about an early morning. Fred doesn’t look at you, but you can feel the tension, the way his fingers still against the table as you grab your things and step into the cool night air.

The sharp contrast of the quiet street is a relief at first, but it doesn’t last. Your thoughts churn, the familiar mix of guilt and longing rising to the surface. You shake your head, trying to focus on the walk home when you see her.

Leah.

She’s leaning against the wall just outside the pub, her arms crossed, the faint glow of a cigarette in her hand. She looks up when she hears you, her face illuminated by the streetlamp above.

“Hey,” she says, her tone casual but her gaze sharp.

You freeze, your chest tightening. “Hey.”

Her lips quirk into something that’s not quite a smile, and she takes a slow drag of her cigarette before exhaling, the smoke curling into the air between you.

“You’ve been quiet tonight,” she says, tilting her head slightly.

She must’ve watched you—you hadn’t even noticed her in the pub. Had Fred?

You force a shrug, your voice tight. “Long day.”

She hums, her eyes narrowing just a fraction. “Fred seemed to have been distracted too. Must’ve been one of those days for everyone, huh?”

The mention of his name sends a jolt through you, but you keep your expression as neutral as you can manage. “Yeah, maybe.”

Leah watches you for a moment longer, her gaze unsettlingly calm. She takes another drag before flicking the cigarette to the ground, crushing it under her heel. “You two seemed friendly tonight.”

Your stomach twists, but you don’t falter. “We’re all friends, aren’t we?”

Her lips press together, her expression unreadable. “Sure.”

The pub door swings open, the sound spilling into the street, and your heart sinks as Fred steps out. His hair is a little messy, his face flushed from the warmth of the pub. He glances around, his eyes landing on you almost immediately.

“There you are,” he says, his tone light as he steps closer. “What’s taking so long? I thought you’d—”

His words die as his gaze shifts, landing on Leah.

His smile falters, and for a moment, the easy confidence he always carries slips. “Leah.”

“Fred,” she says smoothly, her tone neutral but her eyes sharp as they flick between the two of you.

He straightens, shoving his hands into his pockets as the tension thickens.

“What’s going on?” he asks, his voice tighter now.

You feel like the air has been sucked out of your lungs. You glance between them, your chest tightening. You can’t do this. The weight of the secrecy, the guilt, the unspoken accusations—it’s too much.

“I was just leaving,” you say quickly, your voice steadier than you feel.

Fred’s gaze snaps to you, his brow furrowing. “Wait—”

“I’ll see you later,” you cut him off, stepping away before either of them can stop you.

You won’t see him later, you’re sure of it.

The last thing you hear as you walk away is Fred’s voice, quieter now but still tinged with something you can’t quite place.

“Leah, we should talk.”

You don’t look back. You can’t.

&

You’re lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. The faint hum of the city outside is no comfort tonight. It’s too quiet, too still, and your mind refuses to stop racing.

You picture them together—Fred and Leah. You imagine their conversation, her calm but sharp gaze and his uneasy expression. Maybe they’re sitting close, voices low and familiar, smoothing over the jagged edges of their breakup. Maybe they’ll work things out. Maybe they’re already back together.

The thought is a knife to the chest, twisting deeper with every passing second. You roll onto your side, pulling the blankets tighter around you, but it doesn’t help. The ache is relentless, carving itself into every corner of your heart.

Hours pass. The clock on your nightstand glows faintly, marking the time you’ve spent wide awake. 2:47 a.m. Your body is heavy with exhaustion, but your mind won’t let you rest.

You try to reason with yourself. Fred never promised you anything. This was always supposed to be casual, meaningless—a fleeting distraction for both of you. You knew that. You agreed to it.

And yet.

A sharp knock cuts through the silence, jolting you upright. For a moment, you freeze, your breath catching in your throat.

Another knock.

You stumble out of bed, heart pounding, and shuffle to the door. When you open it, Fred is standing there, his hair disheveled, his shirt wrinkled like he’d left in a hurry. The faint light of the hallway casts shadows across his face, but his eyes are clear, intense.

You can’t speak. You just step aside, and he walks in without a word.

The door closes behind him, the lock clicking softly into place. He turns to you, his gaze searching, but whatever he’s looking for, he doesn’t say. He just steps closer, his hands brushing against your arms before they settle on your waist, pulling you toward him.

There are no questions, no explanations. Just his mouth on yours, slow and deliberate, like he’s memorizing the way you feel.

It’s different this time.

The usual rush of urgency is gone, replaced by something quieter, softer. He touches you like you’re fragile, like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers if he’s not careful. His hands linger, tracing patterns on your skin, and his lips trail down your neck with an almost reverent slowness.

When he lifts you, carrying you to the bed, it’s not hurried or thoughtless. He lays you down gently, his weight pressing into you as his lips find yours again.

It’s almost too much. The tenderness, the quiet intensity—it’s overwhelming in a way that makes your chest ache.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wonder if this is goodbye. If this is Fred’s way of ending things, giving you something to remember before he walks away for good.

The thought makes your throat tighten, but you don’t stop him. You can’t.

When it’s over, you lie there in the dark, the sheets tangled around you, his arm draped loosely over your waist. His breathing is steady, his body warm against yours, and for a moment, you let yourself pretend that this is enough. That this could be enough.

But then he stirs, pulling away.

You turn to watch him as he sits on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair. He doesn’t look at you as he stands, gathering his clothes and pulling them on with quiet efficiency.

Your chest tightens, but you don’t say anything. You just watch as he moves to the door.

He hesitates, his hand on the knob, and for a moment, you think he might say something. But he doesn’t. He just turns back to you, his expression unreadable, and steps closer.

He leans down, pressing his lips to your forehead in a soft, lingering kiss.

It’s the kind of tenderness he’s never shown before, the kind that makes your heart break even as it swells.

When he pulls back, his eyes meet yours for a brief moment. There’s something there, something unspoken, but before you can grasp it, he’s gone.

The door clicks shut behind him, and you’re alone again.

You lie there, staring at the ceiling, the ache in your chest heavier than ever.

This is goodbye, you think.

You close your eyes, but sleep doesn’t come.

&

The weeks without Fred are a blur of emotions, each one more exhausting than the last. Some days, you manage to feel like yourself again, like the world might not actually end without him. Other days, the grief hits you like a wave, dragging you under with the weight of all the unsaid words and the things you wished could’ve been.

Your friends help, of course. Alicia keeps you busy with plans you don’t want to make, and Angelina sends you pep talks at odd hours of the night. But there’s a hollow ache they can’t touch, a space inside you carved out by Fred and left empty when he walked away.

You try to fill it with distractions—new books, long walks, even the occasional half-hearted date—but nothing works. Because no matter what you’re doing, your thoughts always circle back to him. To the warmth of his hands, the sound of his laugh, the way he looked at you that night before he left.

The worst part is the silence.

For weeks, there’s no word from Fred. No knocks at your door, no teasing notes slipped under the frame. He’s just… gone. And while you tell yourself that’s what you wanted—that it’s for the best—you can’t stop wondering where he is. What he’s doing. If he’s with her.

And then, one day, the silence breaks.

It’s mid-afternoon, and you’re home, though you have no memory of how you spent the morning. The hours have blurred together in a haze of restless pacing and half-formed thoughts, none of which have brought you any peace.

When the knock comes, you almost don’t hear it. It’s soft, tentative, like the person on the other side isn’t sure they’re welcome.

Your heart stutters.

You tell yourself it’s probably Alicia or Angelina, or maybe even Leah. But when you open the door, it’s Fred.

He looks different in the daylight. There’s no mischievous grin, no late-night bravado. Just him, standing on your doorstep, his shoulders tense and his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

“Hi,” he says, his voice quieter than you’ve ever heard it.

You stare at him, unsure whether to laugh, cry, or slam the door in his face. “What are you doing here?”

Fred shifts, glancing past you into the flat before meeting your gaze again. “Can I come in?”

You want to say no. You want to tell him to leave, to take all the chaos and heartbreak he’s brought into your life and walk away for good. But instead, you step aside, letting him in.

Fred moves to the middle of the room and stops, his eyes scanning the space like he’s trying to memorize it. He doesn’t sit, doesn’t relax, just stands there, his weight shifting from foot to foot.

“I didn’t know if you’d let me in,” he admits after a moment.

“Why are you here, Fred?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

His eyes flicker with something you can’t quite place—guilt, maybe, or fear. “I needed to see you. To explain.”

“Explain what? That you left? That you couldn’t give me what I wanted? What I needed?” Your voice wavers, betraying the anger you’ve been holding onto for weeks.

Fred flinches but doesn’t look away. “Yes. All of it.”

For a moment, neither of you speaks.

“I was a mess when we started this,” he says finally, his voice low and steady. “Leah and I were over, but I wasn’t okay. I told myself I didn’t want anything serious, that I couldn’t handle it. And then you…”

You hold your breath, waiting for him to continue.

“You made me feel like I could handle it,” Fred says, his gaze dropping to the floor. “And that scared me. It made me feel wrong, like I was moving on too fast. Like I didn’t deserve it.”

You blink, his words sinking in.

“I pushed you away because I was scared,” he admits, meeting your eyes again. “But that doesn’t excuse what I did. I hurt you, and I hate myself for it.”

You swallow hard, your throat tight. “And now? Are you still scared?”

“Yes,” Fred says without hesitation. “But I’m more scared of not being with you. Of letting you slip away because I was too much of a coward to fight for this.”

Your breath catches, your chest tightening with a mix of hope and fear. “And what happens when it gets hard again? When you start to feel like it’s too much?”

Fred takes a step closer, his expression earnest. “Then I’ll tell you. And we’ll figure it out together. Because I’m done running, and I’m done pretending this doesn’t mean something.”

The sincerity in his voice is almost too much. You look away, your hands trembling as you try to keep your emotions in check.

“What are you asking for, Fred?” you whisper.

He hesitates, and for a moment, you think he might not answer. Then he reaches out, his fingers brushing yours. “I’m asking for a chance. To do this right. To give you what you’ve always deserved.”

You close your eyes, his words washing over you like a wave.

“Okay,” you say finally, your voice barely audible. “But we take it slow. No more secrets, no more running. We do this the right way.”

Fred nods, a small, relieved smile breaking through his tension. “Slow. Got it.”

He steps back then, extending a hand like he’s meeting you for the first time. “Hi. I’m Fred. Nice to meet you.”

You laugh, the sound a little shaky but genuine. “Nice to meet you, Fred.”

For a moment, you let yourself smile, the tension in your chest loosening just a little. Then you glance at his outstretched hand, raising an eyebrow. “Though I have to say, you look a lot like this guy I used to know. Total pain in the arse, but surprisingly charming when he wanted to be.”

Fred grins, his eyes lighting up in that way that always makes your heart skip a beat. “Well, I’m hoping I’m nothing like him. He sounds awful.”

“He was,” you say, shaking his hand firmly. “But I think you might be an improvement.”

Fred laughs, the sound warm and unrestrained, and for the first time in weeks, you feel like you can breathe again.

[mirx-xko-offical]

I’ve always enjoyed the idea of body swap fics

the idea of you swapping bodies with someone like Rook you stressing out hard and rook having the time of his life gaining a deeper understanding of you

not to mention the fact the beastmen and merboys avoid ‘Rook’ like the plague and r very off scared of ‘your’ new personality

this lady’s, gentlemen and, our other gendered friends, is a amazing idea. I’ve never written for Rook so this is going to be fun !!

prompt: Body swap

Content warnings- Second person pov, nothing romantic (honestly because I don’t know how I’d make this romantic tbh), Not proofread, Rook (and probably Vil) is probably OOC mainly because I haven’t written him before (and quite frankly don’t like him that much but please don’t come after me for it 🙏), probably short because I’m trying to finish it for once

You’d never expect to not only wake up in someone else’s bedroom but, to also be in their body too… The bad thing is that you seemed to swap with someone who has a certain stalker reputation. Oh how you wonder how you’d make it through the day. Hopefully he doesn’t do anything weird to your body.

You dress yourself, looking at yourself in the mirror before a certain housewarden walked in, seemingly checking in on the blond that your soul is currently in.

’Rook! There you are. Where were you this morning? You were meant to wake me up!’

He complains as you just stood there awkwardly, unsure how to explain the current situation you’re in.

‘That’s the thing…’

You mumble on, explaining how you weren’t the blonde he was looking for but instead the magicless human. He simply stood there before sighing.

‘Why must it always be you potato…’

‘I don’t know..’

You sulk for a while as you followed Vil around, so ready to get out of the blonde’s body. Speaking of the said blonde, what just is he doing while he’s in your body? You’d much rather not think of it…

You sigh as you walked into your potions class, the only class you really have with him. Everyone turning towards you suspiciously as you kept your head low, most of them not knowing about the swap of bodies.

You sit down at Rook’s usual desk, looking towards the doorway before finding Rook or rather you walk in with the amount of confidence you’d never have in your life.

You decide to just keep your head low and wait u til the end of class to confront Mr. Crewel about it.

You look up at the clock again, something you did often today it seemed. 5 minutes til the end… You thought to yourself, your mind always making sure you knew the time.

Time passed by slowly as if it was slowing down to a complete stop. You look at the clock again, reading the time. 3 more minutes…

Then those 3 minutes turned into 2 and finally I to 1. Most of the students by then were already packing up their stuff as Professor Crewel finished the lesson.

You sigh at the sound of the bell finally ringing, standing up from your seat before walking up to the professor. You glance over to see Rook do the same.

You were the first to speak, telling him about the entire situation through your awkwardness, looking up from his desk to see him nod, understanding what you were saying.

‘I am sure I have something for you pups.’

He hummed as she stood from his desk, walking over to a shelf, grabbing a potion with a small purple hue. He gave it to you both, telling you to simply drink it and you’d be back.

You look over to Rook, him giving you his signature smile before drinking it himself, giving you a nod to drink it as well.

You looked down at the potion before placing your lips against it, drinking it quickly as if almost out of desperation.

You gasp before feeling your vision fade before finding yourself opening your eyes, looking down to find yourself back in your own body. You look at Professor Crewel before nodding to him respectfully, walking out of his class with a thank you.

You’re sure that both you and rook had came to an agreement, to never have this happen again.

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Why? (Dean Winchester)

Description: Y/N has a big secret that she’s kept but now it’s revealed and Dean doesn’t understand why

Word Count: 1,598

13 years. That’s how long it’s been since Y/N joined the brothers and the angel on their journey. She was 22 at the time. Young and oblivious to the true power that the universe held. Sam was like her best friend. He was always nice and welcoming and kept her grounded. Dean on the other hand was not nice to her at all. He hated the fact that she was with them and even though she was a good help he never said thanks. Sam and Cas did but that wasn’t enough.

As sick and twisted as it was, she was in love with Dean. She truly had no good reason for it. He hated her and definitely did not share the same feelings. She kept these feelings hidden away. Away from Sam and Cas, knowing that they would never understand. She would never admit this to anyone, especially Dean. But 13 years on the road with them she came to the realization and fear that she wouldn’t have to. A mind reader. What kind of sick joke was this?

The mind reader stood in the room with them as they all prepared to kill it in some way. It laughed or he laughed and walked towards them, Y/N took a huge step back but he kept stepping towards her. “Get away from her!” Sam yelled but he ignored him. “W-What d-do you want?” Y/N asked, shaking. She was scared for her life and not because this thing could see her darkest secrets, it might kill her. His hand reached up and cupped her cheek. She was in disgust but too scared to show it. He closed his eyes for a moment, reading into her mind before opening them again. “You’ve kept that for so many years.” He said with pity. Her eyes widened as she realized what he might be talking about. “Kept what?” Cas asked. She shook with fear now for two things.

The mind reader could tell that she didn’t want the secret out. He stepped away from her and her body relaxed. “Just a little crush or should I say a big one? In love with the enemy.” The mind reader looked at Dean who wasn’t catching on. “Who cares who she’s in love with? What’s this got to do with why you’re here?” Dean asked. At the same time Cas asked, “The enemy?” Sam stayed silent. “I’m not here for anything but some fun.” The Mind Reader laughed but the others didn’t. It wasn’t funny. “Please.” Y/N whispered. He could kidnap her or torture her but she begged silently that he wouldn’t reveal the secret that she kept in her heart all these years.

“We aren’t children, we don't want your fun.” Dean growled. The mind reader shook his head and gave her a pity look. “Not everyone is smart about loving someone. We don’t all make the right choice.” She looked away from him as she kept telling herself that maybe the mind reader wouldn’t reveal it. “I’m sorry did you not hear me?” Dean asked and stepped forward. The Mind Reader looked at him and smirked, “I think it’s you who didn’t hear me.” Y/N wanted to cry.

She wanted the ground to swallow her whole. She couldn’t believe the big secret she kept was about to be revealed. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean was confused and maybe it was best he stayed that way. The Mind Reader smirked at him and looked at Y/N who was red in the face. “You can hate someone while they love you.” Sam looked at Y/N who was looking anywhere but them. Sam was the first to catch on in this sick joke. “Dean, don’t play coy. You know what I’m talking about.” Dean looked over at his brother who was staring at Y/N.

Y/N was red in the face and that’s when he realized. “Ding Ding Ding.” He looked back at the mind reader. “She’s in love with you but you can’t stand the thought of her or is that just what you tell yourself?” Dean wasn’t having any of this. “You’re going to tell us what you want or we will kill you.” Dean said to him. “I already told you.” Y/N looked at the mind reader with so much anger. She walked up to him and stabbed him with the knife but not in a place that could kill him. “My arm you bitch.” He growled but Dean finished the job. Without looking in his direction she walked away and out of the room. 

It was days later that anything would come about what was revealed. Sam nor Cas said anything about it. Dean sat in thought about it just like Y/N. She was in love with him? He couldn’t understand why. He was an asshole to her and always has been so why would she love him? He walked out of his room to see her in the kitchen making food. She looked tired, hell they all did. Sleep never came to them when needed. Sam was still in his room and Cas was somewhere else. Dean stood as he watched her make eggs.

She wasn’t aware that he was there watching her. She moved the eggs to a plate and grabbed the toast from the toaster. She took the plate to the kitchen table and began eating. She looked at Dean but said nothing. Dean walked into the kitchen and sighed. They had to talk about it, eventually. “So the mind reader just told us one of your darkest secrets and you aren’t going to say anything about it?” She almost choked on her food. “What’s to say Dean?” She asked without turning to look at him.

“A lot actually. I have been nothing but an asshole to you and yet you love me?” She nodded her head. What poor excuse could she make? “I can’t make sense of that at all.” Nor could she. “I mean years, you’ve felt this way for years?” She stood up and turned to him. “I’m aware it’s ridiculous Dean. I don’t need you to point it out.” She yelled. She just wanted to eat her food in peace. “There’s no excuse or anything that I can make for it.” She finishes. She grabs her plate to take it to her room. “Wait.” Dean says and she turns to him. “I’m sorry about the past 13 years. You don’t deserve that and I certainly don’t deserve your love.” She nodded her head and walked to her room to finish eating. 

The house was silent for a while. No new cases or anything like that. Y/N tried to avoid Dean the best that she could but knew that she couldn’t do it forever. They established what had happened and it’s done. Dean felt completely different about it. He never realized it but he wasn’t the nicest person to her and the fact that she was in love with him made him realize how truly horrible he had been to her.

Her room was next to his and never once did he think that anytime he could hear her cry it was about him. How awful he was and yet she loved him. Sam always got on his case about treating her differently but he could tell that not even Sam knew this. Dean heard noise in the kitchen and thought it was Sam. Sam who just went to bed was not the one in the kitchen, it was Y/N. She grabbed a bag of cheetos and sat at the table on her phone.

She looked up as she saw Dean. She looked back down at her phone, making him sigh. “I’m not done with this situation.” He said and sat across from her. “Yeah well I am.” She said. “Y/N please just give me something. Why are you in love with me?” She sighed and looked at him, “Dean, why do you care so much?” She asked. “You hate me, remember?” She asked. “I don’t hate you. Before you stabbed the mind reader he was gonna say that I feel the same way.” She laughed and stood up.

“Yeah right Dean. You don’t treat someone like shit if you love them.” She yelled. He stood up, “If you think I treat you like shit why do you love me?” He yelled. “Because Dean I know that you aren’t that way to everyone just the people you don’t like. You’re a caring man and you would die for Sam or Cas. Anyone that you care about.” “That includes you.” She laughed again.

“Right, Dean. Sure whatever.” She said. He walked over to her, “That wasn’t a joke.” She looked up at him, “It was to me.” She said softly. Just like the mind reader he put his hand on her cheek. Though this time she wasn’t disgusted. “I do care about you and I do love you.” He whispered and she closed her eyes. She wanted to believe that.

“And I’ll spend the rest of my life getting you to see that.” She looked up at him and his eyes spoke the truth. There wasn’t an ounce of hate in them. His eyes searched hers before he did something he never saw himself doing. He leaned in and kissed her. She kissed back surprisingly fast. The kiss was short but sweet. Dean pulled away and placed his forehead on hers. “I will spend my whole life making it up to you.” For the first time in a week she smiled, a genuine happy smile.

[detectivestucks2]

Toji as an Affair Partner

18+ content, Minors do NOT interact

Pairing: F!Reader x Toji

Warnings: NSFW, cheating, public indecency, bondage, oral (male receiving), aggressive sex, yummy

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: Okay, so this one I went a bit overboard but, I just see Toji as a huge perv who's also super bold.

Affair Partner Toji who spots you when you’re on a night out with your girl friends. He can’t miss the way you smile. It lights up the room and draws him in like a moth to a flame.

Affair Partner Toji whose eyes drag along your figure, raking over your curves. He finds his lip is caught between his teeth as he imagines the things he would do to you, if given the chance.

Affair Partner Toji who eyes your wedding ring but doesn't care. He loves a married woman. They don't get clingy cause they're always too ashamed to keep talking to him after just one night of erotic fantasies come to life.

Affair Partner Toji who isn't surprised by your rejection cause that’s what they all say. He simply sticks his business card in your cleavage and walks away, muttering a ‘text me when you change your mind.’ knowing full well all you women are the same.

Affair Partner Toji who flusters you with his bold move, leaving a crimson blush across the apples of your cheeks as you avoid eye contact with your friends, all of them slack-jawed as their eyes flash between you and the retreating mountainous figure.

Affair Partner Toji who you text later that night after another fight with your husband. The jerk made fun of your body, again, poking your lower gut and telling you to lay off the calories. You're not even heavy, he just likes to bring you down cause he knows you’re out of his league. Even so, you can't shake the anger you feel and if he doesn’t find you beautiful, you know someone who does. 

Affair Partner Toji who responds immediately, not at all surprised that you reached out. You're predictable, just like the others. He’s fully aware of his appearance and guarantees your husband can't compare. After all, what bored wife wouldn't want a night of sexual adventure with a god?

Affair Partner Toji who gives you very specific instructions for the dress code of your date. Yes, a date. He clearly details what you should wear, something tight that doesn't limit his access, and unless you want to be bare-bottomed in front of the entire restaurant, you will not dare wear a bra.

Affair Partner Toji who you squeezed into a black mini dress for. The front has a plunging neckline, displaying all of your cleavage, rouching along the left side seam and a glittering short skirt that drops a mere two inches below the flesh of your backside. You lie to your husband, telling him that your best friend is having a work event and she invited you to be her date. The man doesn’t suspect a thing, even when he sees you without a bra underneath but, does make sure to get in a dig about your age and the fact that your chest isn’t as perky anymore…as if it’s a crime to be 30.

Affair Partner Toji who sees you pull up in an Uber and rushes to open the door for you, helping you out of the car as his eyes shamelessly explore the nooks and crannies exposed by your dress, drinking in your appearance as if you are a fine wine.

Affair Partner Toji who knows the hostess inside the restaurant, tipping her before she leads you to a back corner table, showing you to a luxurious leather upholstered booth where Toji insists on sitting next to you rather than across from you.

Affair Partner Toji who makes you nervous as his hand immediately grips the inside of your thigh while he orders drinks for the both of you. An act that would normally annoy you but at this moment, your mind is too preoccupied to think straight so you are grateful for his assertive dominance. 

Affair Partner Toji who drapes his humongous arm over your shoulder, his middle finger mindlessly circling your areola, steadily stiffening the nub at its center. 

Affair Partner Toji who makes your breathing shallow without even trying but he can tell something is off so he asks you what’s wrong.

Affair Partner Toji who you confess to that you don’t always feel the prettiest because of the remarks your husband makes about your body. While Toji doesn’t necessarily care about trivial things such as insecurities, or marriage, he does recognize that you gave him an excellent opportunity for a little torment.

Affair Partner Toji who traps your peak through the fabric of your dress, tugging till he sees your face scrunch up in discomfort. “Do you think that I’d be here if you weren’t pretty?” He begins to roll the nub between his pointer and thumb causing you to squirm in your seat. “Do you think I’d be touching your tits if they weren’t perfect?” He punctuates his question with a harsh slap to your chest before recapturing your nipple. “Do you think I give a fuck what your husband believes?” His grip becomes so harsh that you cry out. Wetness between your legs begins to gush out, the intense teasing doing something to you that you just can’t explain.

Affair Partner Toji who didn’t actually bring you here on this date to have a date; he brought you here because he loves the thrill of public foreplay.

Affair Partner Toji who digs in his pocket and pulls out a chain with two clips. Your eyes nervously dart around the room, looking for the wandering glances of nearby strangers. Toji on the other hand pulls out your chest from your dress, one handful at a time, like it’s the most routine thing in the world. You turn to him in panic, pushing his hands away to which he casually grasps your neck applying pressure, your chest bare for the entire room to see. He silences your protest with a small squeeze of warning, his voice rumbling in your ear, “Resist and you’ll pay for it later. Do you understand?” You’re stunned by his audacity but it’s the most exhilarating thing you’ve ever done in your life, made even more exciting by the fact that this man isn't even your husband.

Affair Partner Toji who traps your sore buds in clamps before tucking them away in your dress, making you suddenly very aware of how the fabric rubs against them.

Affair Partner Toji who allows his hand to wander under your sparkling skirt, each touch driving you mad with lust, all of it pooling in the fabric of your thong. “Hands behind your back.” he orders, the tenor of his voice alone, adding to the attraction buzzing between your thighs. You obediently follow, wondering just how far he was going to take things.

Affair Partner Toji whose dexterous fingers slip your panties aside so that they may feel your sopping hole, sinking in to the third knuckle before withdrawing completely and feeding it to you. Your cheeks, already an impossible crimson, spread their flush all the way down your neck and to your sternum as you hollow your cheeks around the digit.

Affair Partner Toji who lightly slaps your face once his fingers are clean thanks to the thorough work of your tongue, before revisiting the paradise under your hem just as your waiter returns with your drinks.

Affair Partner Toji who denies you a sip until you have had your precourse, instructing you to get on your knees under the table and drink from his fountain. “It might take some sucking, Princess, but there’s plenty waiting to satisfy your thirst.”

Affair Partner Toji who has you freeing his sizeable manhood, letting the appendage thud against this pelvis before gripping it in your small hands. In awe, you glide your thumb over the engorged head, slick with pre, before licking your palms and running them up and down his length, the rush of excitement running up his shaft all the more obvious within your grasp.

Affair Partner Toji who has you bobbing up and down beneath the table, taking him down your windpipe like the good little slut he’s forcing you to be. You haven’t done anything like this in so long that you’re both out of practice and out of breath.

Affair Partner Toji whose hand pushes down on the back of your head, forcing all of himself down your throat to silence your slurping noises while the waitress drops off your food. She doesn’t take notice of your empty seat but does give a flirty smile, to which he winks as if you’re not below the table with his dick stuffing your face.

Affair Partner Toji who lets go and allows only a second of reprieve before he’s shoving you down again, ordering you to play with yourself till he cums. Your fingers travel between your legs, circling around your nerve bundle as you take every inch he gives you with your mouth. Your throat flutters with your excitement, each stroke building upon the last.

Affair Partner Toji who all out fucks your face, not caring how loud it is or how obvious he’s being. He chooses this back table for a reason and he’s not going to apologize for his motives. His hot ropes spring into your throat as you twist on the floor, bringing yourself over the edge from the sheer detached abuse. You aren’t a date, you’re a toy, and something about that satiated all the pent-up need that you didn’t realize was collecting in your body for years. 

Affair Partner Toji who looks down at you, viewing your slightly glazed-over eyes and wiping the drool spilling from your lips. “Swallow.” Your throat bobs as you obey. “Now you may come up and join me.” You slide back into the seat of the booth, fixing your hair made messy by Toji’s hands, praying that it’s not too obvious what you just did, however, the pesky chain connecting your breasts is rather obvious through the tight fabric and you long to take it off. “Don’t you dare.” he threatens as he catches your eyes wandering down.

Affair Partner Toji who allows you to finish your meal and orders dessert to-go but as the waitress boxes up the dish and returns with the staggering bill, pulls one last trick from his pocket, cuffing your hands behind your back and hiding the evidence by draping his coat over your shoulders. 

Affair Partner Toji who doesn’t give a fuck that you’re married. He walks you through the restaurant as if he owns you, guiding you to his car where he opens the door and buckles you in. He then pulls down your underwear and pulls out your breasts, clamps and all, for the ride home.

Affair Partner Toji whose member stiffens in his pants when you’re stopped at a red light. The men in the car next to you are staring at your chest through the window, your eyes staring straight ahead in shame. “Let them see, baby. Everyone deserves a peak.” he coos as you look to him with pleading eyes. His thumb casually grazes the sensitive skin causing you to flinch. The men in the car next to you laugh, their own pants tightening at your whorish display.

Affair Partner Toji who finally gets you home, the seams of his pants straining from how hard he is. He rounds the car and opens the door, leaning down to unbuckle you. “Time to open up.” he says, lifting the links between your chest and resting them in your mouth. “Close” he states as you bite down on the silver before he tosses you over his shoulder as like the spoils of war, your underwear slide down to your ankles, caught only by the straps of your heeled shoes. 

Affair Partner Toji who slaps the flesh of your behind on his way to the bed, the excitement overwhelming him. He is sooooo ready to bury himself in your gummy cavern, his member is practically pulsing from the anticipation.

Affair Partner Toji who lays you on the bed, instructing you to let your special little necklace go and use your dirty mouth to wet him. He bullies his way past your lips the second they open, once more cutting off your air supply and making you choke. 

Affair Partner Toji who plunges between your legs, watching how your face morphs into an expression of pure pleasure as your weeping little cunt is stuffed with his size. He begins to lightly stroke, taunting you as he admires how your essence glistens around his shaft. 

Affair Partner Toji who has you squirming beneath him, feeling crazed by his relentless teasing as his languid strokes don’t quite satisfy what you need from him. 

Affair Partner Toji who stills himself, earning a whine from you before he cruelly removes the clamps from your sore buds. The lift in pressure is painful, causing you to constrict around him as you yelp. His pointed tongue drags over the area, so sensitive from the prolonged abuse that your back snaps into a bow while you continue to close in around him.

Affair Partner Toji who is spurred on by how tight you are, clearly underused by your husband. He begins to pound into you with impressive speed as you lay on your back, helplessly restrained, while he steadily folds you in half, more and more.

Affair Partner Toji who flips you onto your knees, your face squishing into the mattress, nearly breaking your neck from the power of his thrusts. While he enjoys playing this little game with women, something about the way you wrap around him feels so good that it makes him painfully hard, even now as he fucks you into the mattress.

Affair Partner Toji whose strength makes for unimaginable stamina, the extreme pace and power of his thrusts continue for a relentless amount of time.

Affair Partner Toji who picks you up like you weigh nothing, and continues to drive in while supporting your entire weight. Your cuffed hands straining against the metal, desperate to steady yourself instead of being tossed around like a ragdoll.

Affair Partner Toji who throws you back on the bed, your ass high in the air as your knees come up to your ears, just to stuff you from above, jackrabbiting into you till your legs shake from compounding orgasms.

Affair Partner Toji who pushes you beyond your limits, overstimulating you and degrading you for being his little nympho, his fingers exploring your sensitive spots, whirling around your clit like it were a joystick, causing you to spasm within his grip.

Affair Partner Toji who lays you back down, his mouth wandering your neck, chest, and ribs, kissing each part of your skin with buttery soft lips that leave tingles in their wake and cause you center to flutter.

Affair Partner Toji who finishes with punctuated thrusts, dizzying your mind and causing you to see stars. Your breathing comes ragged and your cries are loud.

Affair Partner Toji who paints your chest with his spend before dipping his finger in it and feeding it to you for a second time.

Affair Partner Toji who cleans you up and releases your cuffs. He brings the dessert in the to-go container over to you, two forks in hand, so that you may share the treat in bed together.

Affair Partner Toji who pretends to be your Uber driver when he takes you home. He carries you to the door and hands you off to your husband because your legs are rendered useless and you both have to play it off like you got too drunk at the party.

Affair Partner Toji who smiles to himself when he sees that your husband looks nothing like him yet feels a pang of possessive jealousy that he’s never known before.

Affair Partner Toji who was your standard fuck boy but woke up praying you’d messaged him between last night and this morning. Something about you is setting up camp in his mind and he can't shake this feeling that you should belong to him.

Affair Partner Toji who wears a shit-eating grin when he sees that you’re already begging for more.  

[chewnotchoke]

to let a good thing die - gongfourz

warning: leehan and taesan, bff gongfourz, angst, friendship fallout, they call each other 'donghyun' and 'dongmin' but i'll refer to them with their stage names a/n: i originally wanted to make it a love triangle where hts fell for klh, however, i did not want to add a cliche love triangle anymore where their friendship simply gets ruined by a girl so instead, i just focused on their dynamics as best friends :) wc: 6.7k (my longest fic yet) playlist: bruno major - to let a good thing die // lana del rey - margaret // wave to earth - love // phoebe bridgers - scott street // conan gray - the cut that always bleeds // billie eilish - tv // lorde - ribs // mac demarco - watching him fade away

the one constant in a world that frequently felt chaotic and uncertain was the bond between leehan and taesan. their relationship developed gradually over time rather than being sparked by something significant or profound. they had this unshakable connection, built on an implicit commitment to always stand by each other.

there was something comforting about their relationship, like the warmth of a campfire on a cold night. it was strong, steady, and able to push away even the darkest moments.

leehan is the kind of person who can turn the most mundane moments into something fun, tossing playful jabs or flashing a quick grin that’s as disarming as it is genuine. yet beneath his laid-back demeanor lies a quiet loyalty for his best friend, taesan.

for leehan, caring about taesan isn’t just a passing thought—it’s woven into the fabric of his being, a constant he doesn’t need to say aloud. his way of showing it is subtle: an encouraging word when taesan's fire flickers or a shared laugh to lighten the weight of the world.

taesan, on the other hand, is a force of nature. he’s full of purpose, his mind racing with ideas and plans, always reaching for a horizon only he can see. ambition fuels him like a roaring engine, pushing him forward with relentless determination. but even with his eyes set on the stars, taesan never forgets leehan. he values him as a grounding presence, the person who reminds him to breathe amidst the chaos.

to taesan, leehan isn’t just a friend—he’s a safe harbor, someone he trusts to understand him in ways words can’t always express.

when taesan forgot his lunch in middle school, it was leehan who pushed his tray across the cafeteria table, pretending he wasn’t hungry. when taesan showed up late to cram school, drenched in the rain, leehan wordlessly handed over his spare hoodie. when taesan confessed he’d failed another math test, leehan stayed up all night crafting a cheat sheet—not so taesan could cheat, but so he could study better next time. 

the park was washed in gold by the afternoon sun. the rusty swing set, a memory from their shared youth, was occupied by leehan and taesan. with each push, the chains creaked as they swayed gently under their weight.

as they watched a group of children play tag on the grass, their laughter resonating in the cool air, they had been silent for some time. with a heavy voice, leehan breaks the silence. 

“do you ever wonder how things might change when we enter college?” kicking at the mud beneath his feet, he asked the question. taesan could only offer him a wry smile as he turned to him, “why? are you worried about drifting apart as we’re finally starting to figure out our lives?” 

“something like that.”

it took taesan to give a response. he stared at his friend and finally added, “you know, the world doesn’t have to be perfect for us to have our own piece of it. and honestly...you’re the only piece i’d ever need.” it was all sincerity–raw, and unfiltered, and leehan could feel it from taesan’s voice. 

taesan’s grin returned but tinged with something softer, almost fragile. “i know life gets messy, and sometimes it feels like we’re barely holding on, and i know it’s going be harder in our 20’s, but every time i feel like i’m drowning, i think about this, us. and i know i’ll be okay.”

“but i’m kind of worried though,” taesan adds. “you’ve always been there for me and i’m scared of leaning too much on you, and if i am not reciprocating the same care you’ve given me. you’ve always felt like a brother, an older one. you were there when i scraped my knee, trying to learn how to ride a skateboard from you. when i had that silly breakup in high school, when i almost failed my math test. i don’t want to be a burden for you, where you always have to take care of me and make sure i’m okay whenever i mess up.”

leehan chuckled softly, the sound warm and reassuring. "it doesn’t make you weak. and for what it’s worth, you’re the one who reminds me to laugh when i get too serious, who pulls me out of my head when i overthink. you take care of me in your own way, even if you don’t realize it. so i want you to keep leaning on me, just as much as i need you here, too."

leehan’s mind drifted to the time in middle school when he had forgotten to finish his homework. the teacher’s glare had felt like a spotlight, and humiliation burned hot on his cheeks as he was told to stand at the back of the classroom. but just as he began to shuffle toward the wall, taesan had quietly risen from his seat and joined him. “forgot mine too,” taesan had mumbled, even though leehan knew it wasn’t true.

he remembered the warmth of that moment, how the shame of standing alone had melted into something almost bearable because taesan had been there, sharing the weight of it without a second thought.  

another memory surfaced, sharper and more vivid: the sound of pounding rain as leehan sprinted through the streets, his heart racing with worry after hearing his mom was sick. he hadn’t even noticed taesan trailing behind him at first, gripping an umbrella in one hand and shouting for him to slow down.

by the time leehan stopped, both of them were drenched, rain dripping from taesan’s hair and soaking his clothes. yet taesan didn’t seem to care; he simply held the umbrella over his friend’s head, his hands trembling slightly from the cold, determined to shield him from the downpour.  

taesan, on the other hand, found himself smiling at a memory of his own. he thought about the night he lost his cat—a quiet, aching grief that had made him curl up in his room and refuse to leave. he could still see leehan leaning against the doorway, arms crossed but eyes gentle, waiting patiently. “food’s getting cold,” leehan had said, his voice soft. he hadn’t pried or tried to offer hollow comfort. he had simply waited until taesan finally stepped out, sitting across from him at the table in silence, offering companionship without needing to say a word.  

for a brief period, the only sound in the place was the soft hum of the kids playing. then taesan exhaled, a tiny, nearly apologetic smile pulling at his mouth. his shoulders releasing tension, and his heart feeling lighter than ever after hearing such words from leehan. 

that day, despite everything, it was just the two of them as best friends. and at that moment, it was more than enough. 

until things started to shift in their sophomore year as college students. 

taesan began to feel the heavy, unrelenting weight of adulthood pressing down on him. it was nothing like the carefree days of high school, when life was a blend of joys and trivial worries. back then, it was all about laughter, mischief, and the simplicity of being young. now, it felt as though every responsibility, every expectation, was stacking itself on his shoulders, threatening to crush him under its weight. 

but what tormented at him most wasn’t just his own struggles—it was the fear of becoming someone else’s. he dreaded the day of himself becoming the burden rather than the bearer, making his chest tighten with unease. especially to leehan. 

leehan often found himself waking up to the faint glow of a desk lamp at the dining table in their shared dorm. there taesan would be, hunched over his notes and laptop, dark circles under his eyes betraying yet another sleepless night. the sight had become too familiar.

"dongmin, don’t tell me..." leehan muttered, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he walked into the room. his voice carried a mix of concern and exasperation. taesan glanced up, the exhaustion etched into his face undeniable. but instead of answering, he closed his laptop with a soft sigh and rose from his seat. he began gathering his things for the class that awaited him.

"dongmin, you haven’t been sleeping for days," leehan said firmly, stepping closer.

taesan paused, slinging his bag over one shoulder. "i have a really important presentation later," he said, his voice calm but weary. "i can’t screw this up." 

leehan frowned, watching his friend push himself yet again. "you need to rest, though. you can’t keep running on empty."

“i’ll be fine," taesan replied with a small, tired smile, brushing off the concern as he always did. "i probably won’t be back for lunch, so don’t wait for me. eat something good, okay? i’ll see you after class." and with that, taesan headed for the door, leaving leehan standing there, worry tugging at his chest. as much as leehan wanted to stop him, he knew taesan’s stubborn determination all too well. all he could do was silently promise to be there, ready to catch him if he fell.

it was just after leehan’s second class when his phone buzzed insistently in his pocket. the caller id flashed ‘university clinic,’ and a strange chill ran down his spine as he answered. the nurse’s voice was calm but firm: taesan had fainted after a presentation, and his name was listed as the emergency contact. hearing that sent a wave of emotions crashing over leehan—fear, frustration, and a flicker of something warmer, something he couldn’t quite name. he didn’t even stop to think.  his legs moved instinctively as he sprinted toward the infirmary.

when he pushed open the door, he saw taesan lying on the small bed, looking pale, his usual energy drained. his lips curved into a faint smile when he noticed leehan, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “you’re here,” taesan murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “why? have you eaten lunch yet?”

leehan exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair to calm the anger bubbling inside him. “do you really need to waste what little energy you have worrying about me?”

taesan let out a breathy laugh, though it came out more like a cough. “i’m fine. it’s not that serious. didn’t the doctor say i just need some rest? i’m an adult now, leehan.”

“and yet, you can’t even take care of yourself,” leehan shot back, his tone harsher than he intended. the smile faded from taesan’s face, replaced by a shadow of guilt. “i’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice so soft it was almost swallowed by the room’s silence. leehan’s chest tightened as he realized how his words had landed. he reached out, his hand resting gently on taesan’s arm, a gesture meant to reassure.

“hey,” he said softly, his voice gentler now. “i’m not mad. i’m worried. i hate seeing you like this. but you know i’ll always be here, right? whether you think you need me or not.”

taesan’s gaze shifted away, his fingers clutching at the blanket. “that’s what scares me,” he admitted, his voice trembling. “that you always have to take care of me.”

for a moment, the weight of taesan’s words lingered in the air, heavy and unspoken. leehan tightened his grip on taesan’s arm, his own voice steady and quiet. “you’re not a burden, taesan. not to me. you never will be. so stop trying to do everything on your own.” taesan’s lips quirked into a faint smile again, though it was tinged with something bittersweet. “you’re too good to me, you know that?”

leehan shook his head, his own smile breaking through. “maybe. but you make it worth it.”

the silence that followed was warmer this time, leaving only the steady hum of the infirmary clock marking the passing seconds.

but the following days weren’t as warm. 

taesan had been alone in their shared dorm for three days now. leehan had barely been home, only returning long enough to sleep, his presence almost ghostly in its absence. the days passed in a blur, with taesan filling the space with his own thoughts and distractions, but something was missing. every morning, taesan would check his room to find that leehan had already gone—his things left behind, his bed untouched. it was as if leehan had simply faded away.

that morning, as taesan stood in the kitchen, rinsing the dishes he had used for breakfast, he heard the familiar creak of the door opening. his heart jumped in his chest, and for the first time in days, a small spark of relief flickered in his chest. he turned around to see leehan step inside, dragging himself like a ghost from the hallway.

“you’re back!” taesan said, his voice a mix of surprise and relief.

leehan’s response was a strained, half-hearted smile that barely reached his eyes. he walked slowly, his footsteps heavy, as if the weight of the world was pressing down on his shoulders, his bag hung loosely from one arm.

“are you alright?” taesan asked, his brows furrowing in concern. “you haven’t been answering my calls. how was your test?” leehan didn’t immediately respond. instead, he simply sighed, the sound as hollow as his smile. “sorry,” he muttered, looking away. “let’s not talk about that.”

before taesan could press further, leehan disappeared into his room, the door closing behind him with a finality that felt like a wall between them. taesan stood frozen, his heart heavy with unanswered questions he glanced at the clock. only ten minutes before class. he should go, but something worried him, telling him to wait. so, he did. he waited by the door, listening for any sign that leehan might come out.

when the door finally opened again, it wasn’t the leehan taesan had hoped for. leehan emerged, but this time he was carrying a much larger bag, his clothes different. his movements were mechanical, devoid of the warmth that usually accompanied him.

“i don’t think i’ll be home for the next few days,” leehan said, his voice distant, the words detached as if he were speaking from a far-off place. “take care. i’ll see you soon.”

taesan’s throat tightened, his stomach lurching at the finality in leehan’s tone. “wait, what? donghy—”

but leehan didn’t stop. without another glance, he turned and disappeared out the door, leaving taesan standing in the midst of a room that suddenly felt too empty and quiet. the seconds dragged into minutes, and taesan stood there, numb, watching the door as if hoping leehan might come back.

but he didn’t. the sound of leehan’s departure echoed in his mind, and taesan realized, with an unsettling clarity, that something had shifted. though he didn’t know what it was or how it happened.

taesan had known something was wrong with leehan for days. it had started subtly at first: leehan had been quieter than usual, disappearing more often, his smiles more forced. taesan had brushed it off, telling himself that it was probably just the stress of exams, or maybe leehan was dealing with something personal. but it wasn’t like him to pull away without saying anything, especially not from taesan.

last week, leehan had mentioned that his program had a qualifying test to determine if he could continue to the next semester. it was a big deal, and taesan had noticed how much time leehan was spending with his study group, buried in textbooks and notes. but even so, the silence between them felt different—longer, heavier.

but that night, after finishing his own studies, taesan couldn’t help himself. he opened the messaging app and typed out a message:

"hey, what else have you been up to lately? haven’t heard from you in a while. you good?"

he stared at the words, his thumb hovering over the send button, unsure if it was too much, or too soon. but it was the truth—he was anxious. he didn’t know what leehan had been up to, how he was holding up, or even if he was okay. he sent the message and then sat back, waiting. the minutes turned into an hour. his phone sat on the desk, quiet, undisturbed. 

it was only when taesan was about to drift off to sleep, the heft of the day pulling him under, that he finally heard the familiar ping of a new message. he reached for his phone, his eyes still heavy with fatigue, and unlocked the screen.

it was from leehan.

“i’m sorry i haven’t been home lately. and i don’t think i will be for the whole week. i’ll be back once i’m done. make sure you’re eating well.”

the message was short. vague. empty.

taesan stared at the words for a long time. there was something hollow about it, something that left him unsettled. taesan reread the message, wondering if there was more beneath the surface, some hidden meaning that he wasn’t catching. but in the end, the words sat coldly in his chest, unanswered and unyielding.

three more days had slipped by since leehan’s last reply. silence hung heavily in the apartment, with taesan left to his own thoughts in their shared space. despite the suffocating  curiosity, taesan resisted the urge to call, respecting the unspoken boundaries. seeing leehan occasionally online on the messaging app was enough to reassure him that nothing dire had occurred.

on his way to campus, taesan crossed paths with sungho, one of leehan’s friends from his program. a spark of hope stirred in his chest as he greeted him. “sungho, have you been with donghyun? how’s he doing?” sungho’s expression shifted, a mixture of surprise and concern. “donghyun? hasn’t he come back to your place yet?”

“no, i haven’t heard from him lately.”

sungho sighed, glancing away momentarily. “ah, you didn’t know? leehan failed the qualifying exam last week. it was tough—he had to retake it with an additional 80 questions. but he finally passed on the second try. if he had failed again, he wouldn’t have been able to apply for the next semester. and he would have lost his spot in your college dorm. he’s been a wreck since the test, crying a lot. i thought you knew?”

a load settled on taesan’s chest. he hadn’t known any of this. the silence suddenly felt heavier, tinged with guilt and worry. before he could respond, sungho gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder. “i’ve got to go now. take care, dongmin.” with that, sungho walked away, leaving taesan standing in the middle of the bustling campus, lost in thought.

late at night after class, the dorm was eerily quiet, and there was still no sign of leehan. taesan sat on the couch, his heart weighed down by the conversation he’d had with sungho earlier. the day’s fatigue clung to him as he idly scrolled through instagram, seeking distraction.

his thumb froze when he stumbled upon leehan’s latest instagram story. it was a group selfie with classmates, a table laden with food and alcohol, and the caption, “thank you, guys. it wouldn’t have been possible without you.”

a storm of unspoken emotions swirled within taesan. he placed his phone face down on the table and sighed heavily. moments later, the front door creaked open, and leehan stepped in. his face bore a different expression than the one taesan remembered. something softer, more at ease.

“dongmin, i’m back! i mi—” leehan’s words trailed off when he noticed taesan’s lack of response. concern flickered in his eyes as he gently closed the door. “are you alright?” he asked, lingering in the doorway. “is it true?” taesan’s voice was low, almost a whisper.

“what’s true?” leehan frowned.

“you failed your qualifying exam.”

“oh, that,” leehan shrugged, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. “how did you know? but it’s all good now—”

“no, it’s not!” taesan’s voice cracked as he interrupted, his frustration surfacing. leehan blinked, taken aback.

“dongmin, it’s really fine. i passed the second time.”

“but you didn’t tell me,” taesan muttered, his gaze fixed on the floor.

“tell you what?”

“that you were struggling. that you needed support. instead, you celebrated with your college friends. people you’ve known for barely a few semester, while i was left in the dark. if sungho hadn’t told me, i wouldn’t have known anything.”

leehan’s smile faltered. “dongmin, i didn’t want to be a burden. i thought—”

“a burden?” taesan cut him off, his voice trembling. “do you think i’m not scared of being a burden too? but other than that, i’m more terrified of becoming someone you can’t rely on. do i mean so little to you as a friend?” his eyes shimmered, tears threatening to fall. the room was steeped in silence, the pressure of unspoken fears and misunderstandings pressing down on them.

“dongmin, i’m so—”

“was it not possible with me, donghyun? is that why you didn’t tell me?” taesan’s tears streamed freely, his voice trembling with a fragile softness. leehan’s gaze softened, the sight of his best friend in tears pulling at his heart. “that’s not true, dongmin. i didn’t tell you because i didn’t want to add to your stress. when you fainted from exhaustion after your presentation, i knew you weren’t in the right headspace. if i had told you i failed, it would’ve only worried you more. you mean so much to me as a friend—i couldn’t bear the thought of adding more weight to your shoulders.”

“donghyun, i could have helped you study—”

“and that’s exactly what i didn’t want!” leehan interrupted almost shouting, his chest heaving with emotion. “i didn’t want you to see me as someone who couldn’t succeed on his own. it’s not about that! dongmin, i was more afraid of losing what we have here, in this apartment, than losing my own dreams!”

taesan was rendered speechless, overwhelmed by the raw honesty in leehan’s words. he hadn’t expected such vulnerability from his friend, and it struck a chord deep within him. “you always care about academics, and you wouldn’t understand that because you’re full of determination and purpose! you’ll never find yourself in this terrible situation, scared on the edge of losing your spot in what we share.” leehan’s voice echoed in the small living room, his words cutting through the quiet like a blade.

taesan stood there, frozen, the weight of leehan’s remark sinking into his chest. confusion swirled in his mind, mixing with a sharp sting of hurt. his brows furrowed as he tried to process the words, the frustration in leehan’s voice, the unspoken resentment hidden beneath.

“i—” taesan began, his voice faltering. he didn’t know what to say, how to respond to something that felt so out of nowhere, so unfair. “you know what? let’s just stop talking about this,” leehan muttered, his tone weary, almost defeated. 

“i’m sorry for making it a big deal.” taesan felt his throat tighten as he answered, the words he wanted to say trapped somewhere between his heart and his mouth. he couldn’t bring himself to argue anymore, not when it felt like every word would only widen the gap between them. so, he turned away. quietly, almost reluctantly, he made his way to his room, the sound of his footsteps muffled by the thick silence that now filled the space. 

for weeks, silence draped over the dorm like a suffocating fog. leehan and taesan were locked in an unspoken calm, neither willing to break the stillness that had stretched into nearly two weeks. it wasn’t pride that kept their words at bay, but the heavy weight of guilt. for leehan, it was the guilt of almost leaving taesan in the dark, of burdening him when he was already struggling. for taesan, it was the guilt of not being there for leehan, of failing to comfort him when he needed it most.

and beneath it all lingered the echo of leehan’s confession, his yearning for permanence in their shared space—a permanence that, for taesan, would always belong to leehan alone.

despite the silence, their care for each other never wavered. leehan would quietly prepare extra portions of food, knowing taesan often pulled all-nighters and might need a late meal, even though leehan himself rarely ate more than a small serving. meanwhile, taesan would tiptoe into leehan’s room after he had fallen asleep, gently turning off the lights and softly closing the door left open.

the semester was winding down, the days slipping by in a blur, and before anyone realized it, summer break was just around the corner. taesan had been singularly focused on preparing for an internship interview slated for the next semester. it was all he had thought about for the past week—a chance to inch closer to his dream, especially since it was with a prestigious company. with his grades qualifying him for the application, he seized the opportunity without hesitation.

amid his preparation, taesan had barely noticed what leehan had been up to. it seemed like his friend was also engrossed in studying for something, though taesan hadn’t had the chance to ask.

as a way to celebrate their hard work this semester, taesan and his classmates decided to unwind with a dinner at a local pub. the thought of sharing a meal and laughter with friends was a welcome break from the intensity of the past weeks. taesan was planning to break the silence with leehan tonight once he got home.

or maybe tonight was a bad time, because leehan was also at the pub.

leehan and taesan sat at opposite ends of the pub, surrounded by their own circles of friends. the air was alive with the buzz of conversation, laughter echoing across the room. taesan, though engaged in a lively discussion with his friend, jaehyun, couldn’t help but glance over at leehan from time to time. his gaze lingering on his best friend. he watched, not out of curiosity, but out of concern, silently willing him to eat more, to take care of himself.

meanwhile, leehan sat at his table, doing his best to ignore the darting glances and hushed whispers that seemed to hang in the air around him. he heard bits and pieces of the murmurs , gossip about his recent failure. he didn’t care. they didn’t understand, and they never would. the success he sought was never meant for them, but for someone else.

but on the other side of the room, things were beginning to escalate. one of taesan’s classmates leaned in, his voice rising just enough for taesan to catch the words. “i don’t understand how dumb someone could get not to pass the test on the first try. yeah, sure, he passed the second one, but that’s just wasting his time, honestly. right, dongmin?”

the words were a blur to leehan, barely registering in his ears, but for taesan, they hit hard. he felt his muscles tighten, his temper beginning to simmer. his grip tightened around his glass of beer, his gaze hardening as the same classmate continued, oblivious to the damage he was causing.

“kind of pathetic, don’t you think?” the classmate sneered.

that was the breaking point. taesan slammed his glass down, rising from his seat with such force that his chair scraped across the floor. his eyes locked on the classmate, anger igniting in his chest. leehan, who had a hint of what was being said, braced himself. his body was tensed, ready for whatever might come next. he wasn’t sure what it was all about, but if it got worse, he wouldn’t stand by idly. taesan walked toward the guy, voice low but seething with anger. 

“shut up,” taesan says. “you don’t know a damn thing about donghyun.”

the classmate, ever the instigator, stood up to meet him, unafraid and ready for a fight. the atmosphere in the pub shifted, everyone now watching, tension hanging heavy in the air. “what’s your problem, taesan?” the classmate sneered, not backing down. “you didn’t know a damn thing either. leehan didn’t tell you, did he? didn’t want you to know how pathetic he was for failing that exam.” he scoffs and continued, “after all, some people just aren’t cut out for that level.”

taesan’s patience had worn thin. the words his classmate had spat, the cruel mockery, the way everyone around them had gone silent as if they were waiting for him to do something, he couldn’t hold it back any longer. the burning anger that had been boiling beneath his skin suddenly roared to the surface. 

his first instinct was to grab something, anything. but even in his anger, there was a moment of calm. his eyes locked onto the nearest object, the beer mug resting on the table. without thinking, but with controlled precision, he grabbed it and poured the beer over the guy’s head. the beer splashed in a cold wave, soaking his classmate’s hair and dripping down his face, the mug now empty in taesan’s hand.

“hope that helps cool down your overblown ego,” taesan said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, a sharp edge of defiance in his tone.

but his classmate’s smug expression remained unchanged. his lips curled into an arrogant smirk, eyes narrowing as if daring taesan to do more. before taesan, could fully process it, the guy’s fist came crashing into taesan's face. the force of the punch sent taesan stumbling backward. the sharp pain in his cheek was almost too much to ignore, but he forced himself to focus.

the instant he regained his balance, his fist swung out in retaliation, landing squarely against his classmate’s jaw. but before taesan could take another step forward, he felt hands pulling him away.

leehan had rushed over, his grip strong on taesan’s arm as he yanked him away from the scene. taesan’s instincts screamed to pull back, to lash out at his classmate once more, but when he saw it was leehan trying to stop him, something inside him shifted. his anger, his adrenaline, all of it, suddenly dulled. his body, tense and ready for a fight just seconds before, relaxed against leehan’s pull.

“taesan, let’s go,” leehan urged, his voice low but firm. taesan didn’t resist as much now.

the anger hadn’t completely subsided, but the sight of his best friend trying to stop him, trying to keep him from making a bigger mess, made him pause. he allowed leehan to guide him toward the door. the moment they stepped outside, the cold air hit him like a slap to the face, bringing him back to reality. taesan stood there for a moment, shivering not from the cold, but from the rush of emotions that still swirled within him—anger, regret, frustration.

he looked at leehan, whose face was a mixture of concern and disappointment. taesan wanted to say something, but the words caught in his throat. instead, he just stood there, feeling the weight of everything he hadn’t said and everything he’d done. he was frustrated, almost feeling like he wanted to cry out of anger. 

“why…why didn’t you say anything?!” taesan’s voice was rough, raw with emotion. “why aren’t you mad?!” his chest heaved with the force of his frustration, his fists clenching at his sides.

leehan’s eyes softened, but there was an edge to his voice, a slight tremor that betrayed the emotion he was trying to keep in check. “why did you have to get into trouble because of me, dongmin?” his words rose in pitch, more from concern than anger. “this isn’t just about you, donghyun! it’s about respect. he had no right to talk about you like that!” taesan answered, his arm jerked toward the pub, where his classmate’s voice still echoed in his mind.

“i don’t need you to fight my battles, dongmin,” leehan said, his voice cracking with frustration. “i can handle it.”

taesan’s breath hitched, and he exhaled sharply, his eyes softening, the anger that had once burned in them replaced by something darker like hurt, deep and raw.

“do you really see me like that?”

his voice dropped to a whisper. “you always carry my burdens, you always worry when i’m about to break. but when it’s your turn—when it’s you, you don’t need me. you never ask for my help. i thought... i thought you needed me just as much.” he paused, swallowing hard.

“is it so hard to lean on me, donghyun? after everything we’ve been through, after all this time…am i still not the kind of person worth relying on?”

leehan’s heart clenched, the weight of taesan’s words striking him harder than any punch had. his breath caught in his chest. “you are,” leehan said quietly, the words heavy, as if admitting it physically hurt.

“you are… but not when we’re both having a hard time.”

a silence fell between them, thick and suffocating, as if the air itself was too heavy to breathe. the words hung in the space between them, too much to bear.

“maybe we’re just not the friends we used to be, donghyun,” taesan muttered, his voice hollow.

the silence deepened. it was the kind that pressed down on them, crushing, leaving no room for anything else. neither of them moved, neither of them spoke. the weight of the words, of the distance, settled like a stone in both their chests, suffocating the bond they once thought was unbreakable.

a week later, they were both in their dorm. on the surface, it seemed like everything had returned to normal, but beneath the surface, it hadn’t. taesan had just gotten off a call with his professor the day after the incident, who brought up the recent situation at the pub. the news was disheartening—unfortunately, the company taesan had been aiming for didn’t tolerate any involvement in violence, no matter the circumstances. as a result, he lost his spot for the internship interview he had been diligently preparing for the past weeks.

one night, taesan remained on the couch, his head bowed, staring intently at his hands clasped tightly together. leehan noticed the shift in taesan’s demeanor. “what’s wrong?” he asked, placing his cup of water on the table. the weight of the situation pressed down on taesan. it was crushing and disappointing, but somehow, he couldn’t even muster the energy to feel sorrowful about it.

the dim light of the evening filtered through the window of their shared apartment, casting long shadows across the living room. “i heard from the office today,” taesan finally said, breaking the tension. his voice was low, almost emotionless. “they pulled my name from the interview list. the internship’s off the table.” leehan asked if he did not even try to plead and reconsider, but taesan says he didn’t want to do anything of that.

“you’re not seriously going to take the blame for this,” leehan finally said, his voice cutting through the stillness. “why? why didn’t you ask them to reconsider?”

“because if i did, then standing up for you wouldn’t be worth it.” 

“you’re throwing your life away for something that wasn’t even your fault,” leehan continued, his tone rising. “you have so much ahead of you, dongmin. why would you—what would you now?” he looks at taesan.

“i’ve thought about it for days. i’ll find a new opportunity, and…”

“and?”

“and a new university.”

leehan remained silent, not because he didn’t want to speak, but because he couldn’t find the words. his emotions overwhelmed him, and soon he was sobbing quietly. the tears weren’t just for taesan transferring schools.

it was the guilt crashing at him, knowing taesan was throwing away everything he had worked so hard for, all because of him. leehan buried his face in his hands, his shoulders trembling as he struggled to contain the weight of his sorrow.

rather than feeling sad about taesan’s departure, leehan was consumed by self-directed anger. he couldn’t shake the blame, couldn’t ignore the role he played in this unraveling mess.

“dongmin,” leehan choked out, his voice trembling, “your dream was supposed to start here! and now—” he paused, gasping for breath between sobs. “and now it’s all gone because of me. i’m so sorry...”

taesan turned to face him, his expression calm but filled with quiet determination. his voice was soft, yet steady. “donghyun, this is the life and dream i’m willing to set aside for you, but i will never let anyone disrespect you like that. you say i’m full of determination and purpose? donghyun, you’re the only purpose i ever need. and i want you to be happy.”

his lips curved into a faint, bittersweet smile. leehan shook his head desperately, gripping taesan’s hands tightly, his eyes pleading.

“how can i be happy if it costs me you? how can i stay here and not think about everything i’m losing?”

taesan’s smile faded, his gaze locking onto leehan’s. he studied his best friend, searching for something, perhaps a way to make this easier, or maybe the strength to let go. the silence between them was thick, each word that followed weighted with pain.

leehan continued, his voice breaking with emotion. “it hurts like hell to let you leave, but it feels just as wrong to make you stay. i caused all this mess, and keeping you here won’t change anything. it’ll only hold you back from finding new opportunities. i can’t do this, i’ll go with you.”

taesan sighed, the heaviness of their reality settling in. he knew leehan was right, but that didn’t make it any less painful. the bond they shared was deep, but this was a stage that required them to walk separate paths, no matter how much it hurt.

taesan’s lips tugged into another bittersweet smile. “i’ll be okay. it might take some time, but I’ll get there. i always do.” he reached out, placing a hand on leehan’s shoulder. “this isn’t about me, donghyun. you didn’t ask for this, but now that it’s happened, you can’t just ignore it. don’t throw away something good because you feel guilty. that’s not fair to you.”

leehan’s throat tightened, and he looked away, tears stinging his eyes. “i don’t deserve this. i don’t deserve you.”

taesan’s eyes softened, but there was a glimmer of pain. he let his hand fall away, his gaze lingering on leehan for a moment longer. “we’ll figure it out… just not now.” taesan said, though even he didn’t sound convinced.

leehan could only nod, unable to trust his voice. his heart screamed at him to say more, to fight harder, but he was frozen by the weight of inevitability crushing them. without another word, taesan turned and walked to his bedroom, the sound of it closing behind him echoing through the soon-empty apartment.

months passed, and life took them down different paths. taesan settled into his new university, finding his footing amidst unfamiliar faces and new challenges. he threw himself into his studies, into building a new life, but the cracks in his heart remained, each one bearing donghyun's name.

leehan stayed behind, moving through his days in a haze of routine. the apartment felt emptier without taesan’s presence, the silence now deafening where once it was comfortable. he told himself he was fine, that this distance was necessary, but late at night, when the world quieted, he felt the absence like a wound that refused to heal.

both were consumed by the demands of their new realities, yet neither could shake the haunting presence of what was left unsaid. taesan would catch himself staring at his phone, thumb hovering over leehan’s name, wanting to reach out but knowing it wouldn’t change anything. leehan, too, found himself staring at old photos, the smiles frozen in time a painful reminder of what they’d lost.

in the end, it wasn’t a dramatic falling out that separated them but the slow, inevitable drift of two people caught in the relentless current of life and guilt. they had once promised to figure it out, but the truth was, some things couldn’t be fixed.

sometimes, even the deepest bonds can be undone by the pressure of guilt, and sometimes, the kindest thing you can do is let go.

perhaps they were meant to be each other's anchor in their youth, a steady presence during the roughness of growing up. but as their lives evolved, it became clear that their paths, once intertwined, were now running parallel but separate. maybe they were never meant to follow each other into their dreams. instead, they had been each other's solace in the past years, a constant in a world that often felt anything but.

and though the distance grew, the echoes of their friendship lingered.

a silent reminder of what they had, and perhaps, what they were forced to leave behind.

reblogs are highly appreciated! if you reached here, thank you for taking your time to read <3 | @yuzuksi @leesolbeesol @candycane-lemonade @lionhanie @taylorluvation

[happybirthdaynoah]

HABIT HEADCANONS </3 (Slight HabVin..) ((NOT PROOFREAD..))

- Proud Kleptomaniac. He shows his stolen items off to Vinnie ALL THE TIME. (Sometimes they're Vinnie's things too 😭)

- He steals so much that he subconsciously grabs small things from stores and stuff them in his pockets. He'll dig in his pockets later and wonder where these little things come from and talk about how he's "blessed" (Sarcastically)

- Doesn't sleep much, but when he does he sleeps for 12+ hours. He trained Evan's body to stay awake for very long periods of time, so he stays up for days and days on end.

- When he does sleep, he's very...erratic...to say the least. He'll either sprawl out with every limb in whatever which way or he'll be curled up like a kitty. <3

- SLEEP BITER. He bites and claws the pillows when he's asleep.

- Calls Vinnie his little bunny rabbit, just because he's "special" to him

- Bites Vinnie when he's "stressed"

- He doesn't feel much emotion beside anger and total euphoria and all that psychotic stuff.

- He's studied human beings for years, just to get a grip on how people act so he can act "normal" while he's possessing someone

- He's a cannibal, if you disagree argue with the wall. (/j)

- He LOVES pinning his victims down while choking them out, he likes feeling like he's in total control.

- If he can't control a situation he'll just dip the fuck out and disappear until it fizzles out.

- LOVES MAKING PEOPLE PARANOID. He'll go out in public and whisper at people and then walk away into a crowd.

- Can mask his presence pretty well, he knows how to act like Evan, he uses it to fuck with Vinnie sometimes 😭 

- EATS A TON WHEN HE'S ANGRY. He'll literally walk his ass to a fast food place and mumble and talk to himself about how angry he is while eating.

- Voices his every thought and opinion, couldn't care less about people saying shit to him because he'll just hunt them down and torture them.

- His love languages are physical touch and giving gifts, but he's not very. normal. about it.

- By gift giving I mean, literally handing you someone's organs with that dorky smile he has.

- As for physical touch, he'll bite, scratch and literally slap you and act like nothing happened 😭

- He also loves to…stare…at people when they sleep…He likes to observe their behaviour and vulnerability

- He won’t admit it but he’s attached to Vinnie, maybe it’s just Evan’s presence looming over him though..

- When he eats he growls like a wild animal and his favorite foods to eat are anything meaty (He prefers raw meat but doesn’t mind cooked meat)

- Back to my last point, he usually eats anything raw when he’s alone. He trained Evan’s body to handle raw food without getting sick

- When he IS sick he’s a big fucking baby about it, he’ll whine and complain every. single. second.

- If he ever gets the vomit-y flu he’ll cry when he throws up, like BAWLING. He doesn’t know why, but he just does.

- He LOVES those stupid TLC shows, like Extreme Couponing, Sister Wives and all that stuff.

- He does this thing where he hunches over and walks around creepily, he calls it “prowling.” He does it in the dark for fun.

followfor part 2 !!!! trust !!!

[dittanyinbloom]

Baby Fever

Ominis Gaunt x Fem!MC. 11 years after the events of fifth year. Could been seen as a final part to Note Taking. But trilogy is so sweet I didn’t want to include smut.

Summary: Anne is struggling after the birth of her child, and Sebastian has too many kids of his own to give Anne the proper care she needs. Sebastian calls on you for help, but your husband Ominis insists on coming along despite his affinity for children. 13.3k long so grab some tea besties.

Warnings: 9.5k of fluff and angst and Ominis healing from childhood trauma and then about 3.5k of smut. Breeding kink but like- it’s sweet I swear. Maybe a bit of cockwarming thrown in there (Sorry, Jesus. I’ll repent later). Minors DNI!

.🍼🌿🍼

Y/N,

I hate to do this while business is booming for you, or should I say blooming? Sorry. I need a bit of humor whenever I can get it. Anne is not doing well since having the baby. She’s been on bed rest and she’s a complete mess. I can imagine you ridiculing me, but I am allowed to say such things. She is my twin after all.

Her husband still isn’t back from that work trip. My wife has been asking around the Ministry for me, but no one knows anything. He wouldn’t have missed the birth of their daughter. And she’s four days old now, the cutest thing, by the way. She's starting to look just like Anne’s baby photos.

Anyway, I’m getting off track here. Sorry if this letter is scattered. I’ve got all four of my kids here with me. Their mother has to work while I’m taking off time to look after Anne. Obviously, someone has to earn money for the abundance of school robes we’ll be paying for in the very near future. They can’t be home alone with the youngest being only one. He’s walking now! Have I told you yet? Well, standing and wobbling. He’s getting there. Gonna be the next Slytherin Quidditch Captain in no time.

All this is to say, I need some help here with Anne. Helping her and taking care of her newborn is a two-person job. My kids make it a three-person job. I’m drowning a bit in diapers and screams and tears. Think everyone here has had a tantrum today alone, including me.

Needing your help desperately, my dear sister-in-law of mine. Don’t let Ominis roll his eyes when you read him that bit. He is my brother, blood be damned.

Sincerely,

Your Most Handsome Brother-in-law

S.S.

P!S! Please for the love of Merlin, bring washcloths. Between everything I’m trying to keep up with laundry and it’s simply impossible.

You glanced over the top of the letter once you were done reading it aloud. Contrary to Sebastian’s predictions, Ominis was not rolling his eyes. In fact, he looked forlorn and pale. Not only was he worried about Anne’s safety considering her poor condition after having the child, but he was no doubt worrying about Anne’s husband who was actually quite a lovely bloke. He fit in just right with Anne and Sebastian, and he very quickly grew on Ominis despite his attempts to keep the jokester at bay. In his eyes, Ominis had enough of that energy with Sebastian and Anne, who had been handling her curse greatly in the last few years and was back to her wild self, until the pregnancy complications that is.

What Ominis refused to acknowledge was that Anne’s husband didn’t have the mischief or malice of Sebastian and Anne. He was just a golden, loveable, arguably dopey guy. His love for Anne was so pure. He bawled multiple times on their wedding day. Being gone for so long during the latter days of Anne’s pregnancy was unlike him. And to miss the birth of his firstborn child, and likely their only considering the complications, was beyond excusable. Not that he would even try to excuse it because he was truly that honest of a man!

And then there was Anne, the most heartbreaking part of the letter. The doctors had her on bed rest seemingly indefinitely. She spent the last two months of her pregnancy in that dreary bedroom. When her husband was forced onto his work trip a week and a half ago, you closed up your magical plant shop and stayed by her side until the baby was born. A girl. She was born healthy with the cutest button nose. You held her for hours after she was born while the healers and Sebastian all huddled around Anne in worry.

Once Anne was safe and resting, Sebastian had tiredly collapsed on the couch next to you. You hadn’t seen him that exhausted since you were teens still in school, causing mayhem that affected yourselves more than others. His wife had been watching over all four of their kids all day so that Sebastian could spend that moment with his twin. You put the baby girl in her uncle’s arms and the two fell right asleep just like that.

It had only been a few days, but you were wanting so desperately to get back to the little girl. And while Sebastian’s kids were a handful, to say the very least, you wanted to see them as well. You had done your fair share of babysitting those mongrels, so they were quite attached to you. Their obsession with you and inclination to always come visit and run up and down the hall of your home was actually welcomed, as crazy as that sounded.

By the time you realized you loved children and wanted some of your own, you were already deeply devoted to Ominis. Because of his past, he wasn’t too enthusiastic about having children of his own. That was fine. Sebastian seemed set on having plenty for everyone.

Ominis stood from his velvet armchair and announced, “I’ll grab the washcloths.”

“Ominis, you do not have to go.”

He had stopped in the middle of the hall to ponder it. His head shook in disapproval. “I’m going to look after Anne. You’ll look after the baby. Sebastian will pack up the Quidditch team and head home so that Anne can rest in a peaceful house. Does that sound like a plan?”

You met him in the hallway and took his hands in yours. Butterfly-soft kisses were left on his knuckles. You spoke firmly and slowly to make your point. “You do not have to go with me to Anne’s. I can take care of both. It’s okay.”

“Don’t insult me,” Ominis insisted with a harsh whisper. “I won’t faint at the sight of a child, and if Anne needs me, I will be by her side. She is my sister.”

You chuckle, lightening the room for a moment, “Oh, so Anne is your sister, but you can’t admit Sebastian is your brother.”

“That’s because Anne is my sister through and through, but Sebastian can’t just claim such a title just because his kids call you Auntie. Such a thing has to be earned! Bestowed upon!”

“Okay, okay,” you giggled and smoothed his shirt across his shoulders to calm him. “You know he only says it at this point because it gets a rise out of you. And perhaps that’s why I bring it up too. You’re cute when you go red.”

“Oh, well thank you for adding to the stress,” Ominis shortly huffed in annoyance then turned to the bathroom to grab your house’s supply of washcloths.

Usually, he went along with your playful tones unless he was really out of sorts. You frown and follow right at his heels into the bathroom. “Sweetheart, we are all stressed. I’m sorry to make light of things in such dark times, but you always say you enjoy my light. I’m only trying to help you feel better.”

“I know. But right now-“ Ominis pinched the bridge of his nose. “Can I just be alone for a moment? Why don’t you go pack up those strawberries for Sebastian’s kids? You know we won’t finish them before they go bad if they stay in our kitchen.”

With your head hung low, you trudged to the kitchen and began to ransack your cupboards for potential meals. If things were really as bad as Sebastian made them seem, he likely didn’t have time to cook properly for the kids, Anne, and even himself. A few sandwiches and the berries would make a healthy enough lunch. If Ominis was truly planning to go with you, Sebastian really could head home for a break like Ominis suggested. Sebastian could no doubt figure out dinner for his kids at his own home with the stress of Anne and the newborn off his shoulders.

“I’m sorry for snapping,” that was Ominis leaning against the doorframe to your tiny kitchen. He looked exhausted as though he fought some great battle during his moments of solitude in the bathroom. He hated this side of himself, the one that could be so cruel. With his history and his trauma from his childhood, you didn’t ever fault him for being triggered.

The entire friend group was blissful until Sebastian started having kids with his wife, which was only a year or two into having your adult jobs after graduating from Hogwarts. Ominis had gotten used to them, slightly, but now with Anne having a child, he felt like he couldn’t turn in any direction without feeling an immense guilt.

“That was hardly snapping,” you kept up your light tone. It wasn’t an act. You really weren’t fazed by his behavior. These were stressful times for everyone. “You’ve bitten me before, so I think I got off a bit lucky this time.”

His cheeks turned a light shade of pink. After all these years, you could still fluster him. It was actually one of your favorite pastimes. How much teasing could Ominis handle? You were always itching to find out.

“That- that was one time. And you- you said you liked it,” Ominis straightened from his lean against the doorframe as he stammered on, “And that was different.”

“I did like it,” you reassured him. Memories of that night fluttered back. The sting in your shoulder. The cold from the blood dripping down. Tasting metallic on his lips afterward… “Maybe if you would bite me more, I wouldn’t have to keep pressing your buttons to see which one ignites that side of you.”

Ominis rubbed his face as though he was tired of your antics, but his cheeks turning a deeper shade, nearly all red now, told you all you needed to know. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

“Didn’t I just admit to doing it on purpose?”

Ominis could hear the knife come out into the cutting board. He tilted his head. “What have you been up to in here? Thought you were going to grab the strawberries.”

“Sandwiches for everyone. Doubt Sebastian has had time to make lunch yet. I’d rather make them here than amid whatever chaos is happening there.”

Then Ominis was behind you, gently placing a hand on your shoulder to map out where you were. It glided down to the small of your back and then snakes around the front, his other joining as his body pressed into yours from behind. His chin rested on your shoulder. His chest rumbled against your back as he spoke, “Forgive me for taking my stress out on you?”

“You hardly said anything, Ominis. There is nothing to forgive.”

His lips pressed right at the back of your jaw where it met your ear. “Maybe I’m asking in advance for tonight.” Then his mouth opened. His teeth grazed your skin so lightly you thought you imagined it. And then, rather evilly in your opinion, Ominis stepped back and released his hold on you. “Hurry up with those sandwiches. I’m going to handle a few things before the trip, but I’ll be waiting by the fireplace to floo by the time you are done in here.”

Sure enough, your husband was waiting for you patiently at your fireplace after you finished packaging up the lunches. He held out a hand to steady you as you stepped up on the brick, hardly a necessary gesture, but he was being extra sweet with you while he still could.

“I put a closed sign out on the shop,” he sounded almost formal about it.

“Thank you,” you breathed out in gratitude, “I completely forgot.”

“That Alihotsy is getting a bit big for the nursery. It’s extending across the walkway. Startled me for a second.”

“Sorry. Yes. That fellow from Honeydukes is meant to come by sometime this week for it. I’ll have to write him to explain that we are looking after Anne. Maybe he wouldn’t mind if we dropped it by late at night on his doorstep?”

“Maybe tomorrow night. We’ll be too tired after this.”

You chuckled and shook your head. “You always talk me into being lazy with you. Promise you won’t talk me out of it tomorrow too?”

“I would like its leaves out of the walking path, so I promise, tomorrow night we can take it to him. I won’t drag you to bed too early.”

“But I do look forward to ending up in bed with you after.” And with that, you threw down the floo power and were transported to Anne’s bungalow in Feldcroft. Upon entering, the first thing you noticed was the noise. There was a baby crying, kids screaming, and footsteps pounding around on the hardwood floor.

“I said to get that thing out of here!” That was Sebastian, sounding exasperated.

“I can’t catch it!” His oldest child, who was seven going into eight now, whined back.

“Then chase it out the door! It can’t be in here. It- oh! Y/N. Thank Merlin you’re here. Popped in at an awful time. Sorry for the mess.” Sebastian, while cradling his youngest in his arms, a baby who was about a year old now, kicked a few toys out of the way so you could step off the edge of the fireplace.

“Auntie Y/N!” Three children trapped you with hugs from all around. Then behind you, Ominis popped up in the fireplace and the three were rushing to embrace him as well.

You chuckled and put a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder to ask, “Seb, why is there a chicken on the couch.”

“It’s on the-?” Sebastian turned and started to wave the brown chicken off of his sister’s couch. “Shoo! Shoo! You are lucky I haven’t cooked you yet!”

You rolled your eyes and pulled out your wand. “Levioso. Accio.” The brown chicken squirmed in your arm, but you held it at your hip and then turned to the three kids with an eyebrow raised. “Who brought a chicken in the house while Auntie Anne isn’t feeling well?”

None of the kids said a word, but the two oldest shoved each other while they all stared at the floor in shame. You sighed and said, “If you go and collect all the toys in the house and put them in the diaper bag, I will give you the surprise I brought.”

The kids lit up. Their guilt long forgotten.

“A surprise?!”

“What is it?”

“Ah, ah, ah. Pick up your toys first.” Then the three of them were off collecting the messing they made and putting it in their youngest sibling’s enchanted diaper bag.

You put the chicken in the backyard and came back to see Sebastian and Ominis having a chat on the couch while the baby while trying to pull itself up on the side to join in. Ominis flinched when the baby grabbed his pant leg. You were quick to dive down and pick the little one up, grunting as you did so.

“My oh my, you have gotten big! What are they feeding you? Rocks?”

“That one’s gonna win the World Cup. I just know it. Gonna be the best Beater there is.” Sebastian played with the baby’s chunky ankles while you held it. It cooed back at him as if it understood and agreed.

You laughed and moved the baby to your hip to then use your free hand to touch Ominis’s shoulder. “You wanna go check on Anne while we set up the picnic for the kids outside?”

Ominis nodded and stood up to leave. He seemed thankful to have an excuse not to join the chaotic lunch plans.

Sebastian smiled wide. “Am I hearing this right? You brought lunch?”

“Just some sandwiches and strawberries. Figured you hadn’t had the time.”

With an exasperated sigh, Sebastian leaned his head against the back of the couch and closed his eyes. “You thought right. It’s been… a lot. The baby is sleeping now, I mean, the other baby, the newborn, Anne’s baby.” Sebastian paused for a second then whispered, “That’s still so crazy for me to say. I’m so happy for her.”

“You and your cousin are going to be the best of friends!” You told the one-year-old on your hip. So close in age. How fun! They’ll only be a year apart at Hogwarts. Bet they’ll get into even more trouble than we did.”

Sebastian covered his face and groaned. “Merlin, don’t say that. They already make me crazy as it is. Can’t imagine how I’d handle them being as wild as us.”

“Sebastian, there was a chicken on the couch when I got here. You may want to mentally prepare yourself for all sorts of Hogwarts shenanigans.”

Meanwhile, Ominis was knocking on Anne’s bedroom door and waiting to hear her voice before letting himself in. Sebastian’s kids were still being rather loud, but the decibel levels had greatly depleted. Ominis shut the door gently, but firmly, hoping to trap out any further noise. Their little feet could still be heard scampering about the echoey wooden floors as they searched for their abundance of toys to put away.

“Thought you two must have arrived,” Anne sounded exhausted. Ominis’s heart immediately ripped in two. He hadn’t heard her voice so raspy since they were teens. Anne had mostly healed from her curse. At around the ten-year mark, she decided she wanted to try for a child. She and her husband were happy and head over heels in love. They just wanted one child to share the love with. The risk was great with Anne’s past, but she didn’t want some retched curse to stop her from living her life the way she dreamed.

“And it was a good thing we did. Sebastian’s kids were terrorizing your home.”

Anne laughed at that, though it was quiet and airy. “They are just playing, Ominis. That’s why kids do. Not a dull day around here lately, that’s for sure.”

“Still, I’m sure you could rest better if it was quiet.” Ominis took a step to the right, meaning to meet her at her bedside.

“Wait-,” Anne croaked out, causing Ominis to freeze. “The bassinet is on this side. Come around to the other.”

Oh, right. Ominis swallowed thickly. He had forgotten about Anne’s baby for a moment. The room was so peaceful. It was hard to believe a child was in here with them. “Right, sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, Min,” Anne reassured as Ominis walked around to the other side of the bed. “Just didn’t want to bump into it and wake her. She’ll be hungry when she wakes up.” Which was Anne’s way of gently warning him that the baby was probably going to cry for food soon that way he didn’t panic when he heard it.

Ominis cautiously sat on the side of Anne’s bed and asked, “Anything I can get for you? I’m here to look out for you, and Y/N is going to look out for the baby once she feeds Sebastian and the kids and sends them home.”

“Honestly, I was dying of boredom before you came in. Just you being here is enough.” Anne placed her hand over Ominis’s and squeezed. “And how is my Y/N doing? How’s the shop coming along?”

There was a thankful sigh of relief from Ominis’s lips at the subject change. He could talk about you and the shop for hours. “We’re loving it. She put me to work though with all the upkeep. I’m regretting cutting back my hours at the Ministry. At least they didn’t make me sweep.”

Anne’s soft chuckle sounded much closer to her normal self this time. Ominis let some of the tension in his shoulders release from knowing Anne wasn’t feeling too much pain at the moment.

“You know, they would take you back full-time in a heartbeat if you offered.”

“No, no,” Ominis quickly backtracked with a smile, “No, trust me, being at the shop is a walk in the park in comparison to the Ministry’s paperwork. The half of my week there is like a vacation. Besides, it’s right next door to the house. No travel sickness. And the greenhouse smells lovely. Much better to work in than those dingy offices.”

“Hey now, don’t talk bad on those dingy offices. I can’t wait to get back to them in a few weeks. I’ve already planned on how to reorganize mine. Bit of spring cleaning.”

Whatever was going on with Anne, Ominis had assumed it was to do with the curse. Hearing her so confidently say she would be back to work soon made Ominis tilt his head in confusion. Was she being her stubborn self, or were things not as bad as Sebastian’s letter made it seem. It was always hard to tell with the twins. Anne played everything off as fine, but Sebastian acted like Anne’s paper cuts were life-threatening.

“Planning to get back there so soon? Well, don’t strain yourself. The office will still be just as meek and dusty no matter how long you wait.”

“Suppose so. Might be nice to spend some extra time just with her.” Ominis couldn’t see it, of course, but he knew Anne was referring to the baby in the bassinet on the other side of the bed.

There was a soft knock on the door, and with Anne’s approval, you cracked the door open just enough to peek your head in. “Up for a few visitors? The kids want to say goodbye one by one. I’m including Sebastian in that category too, of course.”

“Hey!” Could slightly be heard from the hallway.

Then, one at a time, you allowed the kids to give their Auntie Anne a kiss goodbye. Lastly, Sebastian went in with his youngest in his arms. Anne chuckled at the red stains on the baby’s hands and shirt from the strawberries. She could picture how it probably mashed the berry in its hand before shoving it in its mouth and likely missing its mouth entirely so that the strawberry ended up mostly on the ground. Her heart tinged a bit. She wished she could have joined them for lunch and not been forced to stay in her tiny bedroom.

“Get some rest,” Sebastian mumbled as he kissed her forehead.

“You too,” Anne replied. “Thank you for looking out for me these past couple of days, but go home and relax. Ominis and Y/N will take good care of us here.”

Then Ominis felt a hand on his shoulder. By the way it lightly massaged him, he instantly knew it was his wife. She leaned in close to whisper to him, “I’m going to walk Seb and the kids home to make sure none of them wander off. They’re a bit ornery today. Will you be okay without me?”

A pang of guilt stabbed him in the stomach. Ominis hated that he was the one you were worried about leaving while Anne was quite literally bedridden. It was embarrassing that you felt as though you needed to check in with him before taking a quick walk just a few houses down to Sebastian’s place. His…affinity to kids was bad, he knew that, he knew that you knew that and that’s why you were being overly protective. Still, it hurt his ego just a bit.

“Take your time. We’ll be okay here,” Ominis whispered back, trying his best not to sound short. If there was any uneasiness in his tone, he knew you would drop everything to comfort him. That couldn’t happen now. Sebastian might have needed your help walking the kids back, but Ominis knew that it was partially an excuse on your part to spend more time with them. He didn’t want to take that from you.

The baby, well, Anne’s baby was sleeping anyway. Sebastian’s was blowing raspberries while Anne was cooing a goodbye to it.

He waited until he heard the front door close to admit to Anne, “You asked how she’s doing… I don’t think she’s happy.”

“With the store?” There was a hint of terror in her voice as if Anne feared it was something worse.

After a moment of silence, Ominis shook his head no. “I can tell she wants more. She grew up in a big family and then Hogwarts was always just as loud and chaotic. At first, I think she appreciated the peace and quiet after we got our house, but lately… Lately, I wake up in the middle of the night and she’s gone. She goes and falls asleep by the gramophone in the living room as if she needs the noise for comfort.”

A gentle hand touched his shoulder as Anne said, “Oh, Ominis…”

“I think she would be happier if she were with someone that could provide what she wanted, but she’d never admit that.”

“No, she wouldn’t. I know you can’t see the way she looks at you, but you’re her world. Don’t ever even suggest such a thing to her. It would shatter her. She is happy with you, just you. We’ve talked about it before, she and I. She is content with being an aunt to Sebastian’s kids, and now my girl. Please don’t worry over this in the slightest.”

Anne’s comfort eased his pain, but the guilt of it all still weighed him down. They chatted for a while about Sebastian’s wife and her exciting job until you made it back to the house. You leaned against the doorframe of the bedroom and listened to the two old friends talk for a while before interrupting, “Do you want to have a bath while I change your sheets for you, Anne?”

“Is that your way of saying I smell?”

“Your hair is a bit of a mess,” you joked as you walked up to her side of the bed and gently moved the bassinet so that you could help Anne up.

At the sound of shuffling and Anne wincing, Ominis offered, “Do you want me to-“

“It’s alright,” you said, suspiciously quick. “Us girls have got this. I’ll just set Anne up in the bath. Do you want to start removing the blankets?”

Ominis stood from the bed and started to remove the covers at your request, albeit a bit reluctantly due to his confusion and frustration. Why didn’t you let him carry Anne to the bathroom? It wasn’t like the intimacy mattered. He couldn’t see.

Wordlessly, he carried the laundry to the back porch and then felt through the linen closet for another set. The two of you met back in Anne’s room at the same time. You kissed his cheek and took the fitted sheet from him to start unfolding it. That was the only covering you managed to get on before the baby stirred in the bassinet. It started to cry out, loud and demanding. Ominis flinched and clutched the blanket he was holding while you scooped the baby up in your arms.

“Oh, that sounds like a hungry cry,” Your voice was soft and unfazed by the cries. “Come on. To the kitchen, we go. I’m going to show your Uncle Omi how to make a bottle for you.”

Ominis tensed at that. “Why? I thought we agreed that I take care of Anne and you take care of…her.”

“If we really are going to be here the next few days helping out, you might as well learn.” You didn’t say anything more as you headed to the kitchen. It was up to Ominis whether or not he followed.

And follow he did with a heavy sigh. Anne’s kitchen was far more spacious than your own. He still hadn’t mapped out where everything was since it all seemed to spread apart. There was even room under the south-facing window for a breakfast nook area that had the perfect view of Feldcroft. You stared out at it wistfully. Down the way a bit, you could make out Sebastian’s two oldest digging away in their front yard. They had told you on the walk back that they had been trying to dig to the center of the earth. You had laughed and told them they would need a pretty long ladder, but you didn’t discourage their determination.

“Do you want to hold her while I grab the-“

“Just tell me where it is,” Ominis insisted, sounding a bit exasperated. His heated tone made you giggle. When you first met him, he used to always be on edge like this. There was a cold exterior about him that was snappy and sarcastic. In his defense, Sebastian was putting him through a lot at the time with his unforgiving plight to find a cure for Anne. But you didn’t mind it then just like you didn’t mind it now. Ominis was complicated, and that’s what drew you in.

“A step forward and to your left. Should be a cylinder tin on the second shelf of the cupboard.” Your direction was easy to understand and deeply appreciated.

Sometimes at work with the Ministry, Ominis would ask something like, “Which one?” Only for his coworker to inevitably reply something stupid like, “The green one.” He never had to prod you for more information. If only he could bring you everywhere to direct him like this. Though, maybe not while you held a crying baby in your arms.

“I’m putting an empty bottle right beside the tin here. But first, we need to set up the kettle.”

“Are we making tea for Anne?” This he was familiar with even in Anne’s kitchen. Ominis made quick work of taking the kettle from the stove and filling it in the sink.

“Just heating up the water a bit. Not too hot. I’ll show you how to check the temperature after we’re done. While that’s heating, you can measure the power. There should already be a scooper in the tin. Two scoops should be plenty. She’s still so tiny.” You took a moment to admire the baby girl in your arms. She really was the spitting image of Anne.

While you rocked her to soothe her cries, Ominis poured two scoops of the formula into the bottle and tried not to grimace at the sour smell of it. Now he understood why babies smelled the way they did. It was a mix of this awful powdered milk and the starchiness of baby powder. Very off-putting and unpleasant.

“Water should be warm enough now. I’ll tell you when to stop pouring. Go slow,” you directed. You stopped him just at just a quarter full and reached to touch the bottle to feel how hot the water was. “Just a splash of cold water and that should be perfect.” Ominis brought the bottle to the sink and literally just let the smallest splash into it. You giggled and prompted, “Okay, maybe two splashes.”

Next, you handed him a clean top for the bottle which he took a moment to stir on straight then asked, “Are we done here?” in a very bored tone.

You smiled as you shook your head and clicked your tongue. “Always so impatient, my love. The powder needs to be mixed in. You’ll have to shake the bottle and-“ Ominis started shaking the bottle immediately, wanting to get this over with. Formula sprayed out of the nipple and got on the kitchen floor, Ominis’s hair, and your face. He froze, realizing his mistake.

Your laughter was so intense that you doubled over, clutching the baby to your chest so that you wouldn’t drop her during your fit. Ominis was blushing, but the sound of your laughter made him smile sheepishly.

“I am an idiot,” he proclaimed.

“Yes, yes your are. You have to cover the tip of the nipple.”

“Excuse me?” Ominis sounded almost offended. You laughed harder, not being able to take much more of this.

“That’s what the rubber part of the top of the bottle is called! It’s not like I came up with it!” After taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you reached over and placed Ominis’s finger over the tip of the bottle. “Okay, now you can shake it without making it rain indoors.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled shyly.

“I love you,” you answered.

Once the formula was mixed up, it was time to test the temperature. “This part is simple. Hold out your wrist,” you told him. When he did, you guided his hand that was holding the bottle to dab the slightest bit of formula on his inner wrist. “Do you feel that?”

A flash of uncertainty washed over his features. “Yes, but how do I know if it’s right?”

You held out your wrist, lighting bumping it to his so he knew where you were. “Let me feel and I’ll tell you.”

The fingers of his free hand drifted across the palm of your open one, acting as if he wasn’t sure where your wrist was. You had a smug smile knowing it was all for show. You had made your movements very clear. He only wanted to touch your hand, but you weren’t about to call him out on that. The bottle dipped to let a drip fall on your wrist. It was like warm. Not too cold that the powder didn’t mix in properly, and not too hot that it would hurt the baby.

“This is perfect. You want to test it on your wrist again so you can remember this temperature for next time?”

He snorted and insisted there wouldn’t be a next time, but he tested the formula on his wrist once more and looked rather deep in thought as if trying to memorize the feeling. You kissed his cheek and thanked him while taking the bottle. A weight lifted off Ominis’s shoulders when the baby stopped crying in your arms. He let out a heavy sigh.

“Glad that’s over.”

“Well, get used to it because it’ll probably happen every four hours or so.”

That statement did not spark joy for Ominis, but you hadn’t been trying to. It was the truth. This was the reality of helping out Anne right now: a crying newborn.

“Let’s go check on Anne in the bath.” Now that was a statement Ominis didn’t mind. You followed him down the hallway and stood at his side while he knocked on the bathroom door.

“How are you doing, Annie?” He asked in a soft tone.

“Just fine, Min! I’ll be getting out soon. How’s the baby?”

“Ominis made her a bottle!” You cut in proudly.

Anne paused a moment then asked, “‘S it poisoned?”

Ominis rolled his eyes while you responded, “No! I watched him like a hawk. I promise! He did great!”

Anne’s laughter echoed in the bathroom. “Well, then thank you, Ominis!”

In the living room, you nestled in on the couch, using the armrest to support your elbow. Holding the baby in the kitchen that whole time had made you ache. She wasn’t heavy either, maybe six pounds at the most. You couldn’t fathom how Sebastian held his youngest all day. That baby was huge!

“Anything I can get you?” Ominis was hovering over you from behind the couch. His hand was resting on the back of it and his fingers were reaching up to brush your shoulder. It was clear he wanted to touch you, but you were holding a baby and that terrified him.

“Maybe turn on a bit of music? There’s a very fancy-looking phonograph sitting in the far corner on your left. It’s begging to be played.”

Your wish seemed to be his command. Ominis brought out his wand and used his sensing charm before pointing it precisely at the phonograph. The needle reset itself on the record and began to play a beautiful sonata. It started out with a feathery light piano that was quickly joined by a set of strings. You weren’t well versed enough in muggle music to know if it was a violin or cello, but its tender tones took the lead of the song while the piano supported the beat and background. There was just a hint of a wind instrument harmonizing with the main melody of the strings. It wasn’t prominent enough to tell if it was a flute, or perhaps a panpipe…

“Come sit by me,” you requested dreamily.

With the music and the airy sound of your voice, Ominis was lost in the moment. He kissed the top of your head then walked around the front of the couch to be next to you. The string instrument started to swell. His hand rested on your knee as he sat down and immediately inched higher and higher until his forearm bumped your elbow and he briefly wondered why your elbow was sticking out like that.

Reality came hurtling back like a bludger. His hand jolted off you as if your skin burned him. He had forgotten about the baby being fed in your arms.

Ominis hoped you hadn’t even noticed his slip up, that you were too lost in feeding the child. With the way you were talking to it, Ominis felt as though he was in the clear. You were commenting on how the baby’s hand was curling around your ring finger. It seemed to like the smooth texture of your wedding band.

“You trying to steal my ring, little one? Four days old and your mommy has already trained you to be her little niffler? Well, I’m very sorry. You can’t have my wedding ring. I love it too much. You can have your own if you choose to get married one day.”

“Anna and Sebastian are probably competing to see who can have the most mischievous child,” Ominis said mostly to himself since he assumed you were lost in your own little world.

“I wouldn’t put it past them,” you joked in return. “And you can put your hand on my thigh if you would like. It is not going to offend the baby.”

Sometimes he hated how in tune you were with him. Ominis put a hand back just below your knee and squeezed to show his annoyance with you, a move he often did to fluster you and keep your teasing mouth quiet.

The move was not working out in his favor while you were holding the baby, however. You gossiped to her, “Oh, Uncle Ominis is mad at me for some reason. I’m in such big trouble. He’s got the grumpy pout. I think he’s feeling a bit bashful that I called him out, what do you think?”

A loud thud sounded from the bathroom. Ominis was standing in a flash. You dropped the bottle beside you on the couch to grab him by the shirt, insisting, “You take the baby! I’ll go get her!”

A look of annoyance washed over Ominis's face and he defied your request, “Are you insane? Just let me-“

“She’s going to want it to be me, not you.”

For the first time since your school days, he bitterly reminded you, “I’m blind! It’s not like I’ll see anything!”

You were standing now, matching his volume. “She’ll just want a woman there that understands-“

“I’ve known her a lot longer than you have! She’s a sister to me, I understand her perfectly! She-“

“She’s still bleeding,” you whispered through your teeth, “You know, down there. That’s why she’s been on bed rest. They had to give her muggle stitches.”

Ominis paled and swallowed quickly. He had assumed Anne was hurting from the curse. The last thing on his mind was average birthing complications. “Oh.”

“Sit down on the couch and put your elbow on the armrest,” you insisted in a very angry tone that you only ever used on Sebastian when he was stepping out of line, which was very, very rare these days. Hearing you so angry sent a shiver down Ominis’s spine. He sat, but panic was bubbling to his surface when he realized why you told him to put his elbow on the armrest.

“My love, please, I’m sorry, I can’t- Don’t make me-“

“It’s a newborn, Ominis! She isn’t going to remember this moment! You can’t possibly do anything wrong. Just feed her the rest of the bottle!” Your screaming made Ominis snap his mouth shut.

You leaned down and put the baby, who was now crying from her bottle being ripped from her and all the commotion, into his arms with a gentleness that shocked Ominis. How you went from screaming at him to carefully making sure the baby’s head was supported on his arm just right, he would never know. The bottle was picked up from where it had rolled to the other side of the couch and put firmly in Ominis’s hand with a bit more fire to your placement this time around.

“Feed her. She can’t cry if there is a bottle in her mouth. Relax your shoulders. I’ll only be gone a minute.”

Then your footsteps were fading. Ominis couldn’t stop his entire body from shaking. The baby was still crying, and although the only other sound in the house was the soft piano and strings coming from the phonograph, Ominis was overwhelmed to the point of shock. The baby weighed in his arms, but not nearly as much as he expected it to. He had held Sebastian’s firstborn twice: once when it was a month old and then one other time when it had just started crawling. Sebastian’s baby was never as feather-light as the dainty little thing crying in his arms now. It didn’t even stretch across Ominis’s chest. Tiny little feet were kicking his right arm that had been white-knuckling the bottle. They were covered in fuzzy knit socks that felt soft and plush against his arm with each weak kick.

The baby seemed to kick some sense into Ominis because he realized it would stop crying if he would just hurry up and give it the bottle. At first, he tried placing it in the baby’s flailing hands, but it wouldn’t take it from him. Was holding a bottle not something babies could do for themselves? He was pretty sure Sebastian was able to hand his youngest a bottle and walk away. Why didn’t this one know what to do?!

Ominis was ready to give up, but he didn’t know how to move the baby properly or where to put it even if he had the nerve. The couch? Would it roll off? The floor? Surely that wasn’t appropriate.

“Fine! Fine,” Ominis grumbled. He set the bottle between his legs and then hesitantly touched the baby's chest and glided up to feel where its mouth was. The thing was so tiny, and even though Ominis was holding it, he still expected it to take longer to find its mouth. But before he could pull away, the baby sucked his pointer finger in and bit down. It might have not had any teeth, but its gums were still brutal!

“Ow!” Ominis hissed and yanked his finger away from the little gremlin. He shook his hand with a dramatic flair to lessen the hurt. The baby went right back to crying. “That was uncalled for.”

Finally, Ominis was able to get the bottle in the baby’s mouth. There was an annoying squeak from it sucking on the rubber, but other than that the living room had turned back to its peaceful state. The record on the phonograph was playing a more upbeat tune. All was well.

Meanwhile, you had sprinted into the bathroom panicked and breathing heavily. Anne was lying on her back near the sink, about a meter from the tub.

“Anne!” You gasped and hurried over to her.

“Oh, hey,” Anne laughed lightly, not acting injured in the slightest. “How was your domestic disagreement? I have never heard you two argue like that. It was quite entertaining.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Mostly just embarrassed. I slipped while I was brushing my teeth. Wasn’t even walking or anything, just tumbled over for no reason. Held onto the sink though, so it wasn’t too bad.”

“You need help up?”

“Yeah. My hip is pretty sore, as if it wasn’t bad enough down there already,” Anne always kept a light tone to not worry others. You understood the sentiment. She didn’t want to be treated like a child or hovered over. Sebastian used to do that to her constantly, he had gotten a lot calmer over the years, but Anne hadn’t learned to get rid of her coping mechanisms yet.

“Let me dry the floor then I’ll help you up. Looks like a hurricane happened in here. Were you playing with the bath bubbles?” You joked to put her at ease.

She sighed gratefully for your calm nature. “Maybe. It had been a while since I’ve had a bubble bath. Might have got a bit carried away.”

You dramatically dragged a towel along the floor at the edge of the tub and asked, “A bit?”

It took some patience, but you managed to get Anne to her bed. There was still only the fitted sheet in place, so you added the bedding around her and made a point to tuck her in so tight that she couldn’t even wiggle. She shoved your hands away, laughing at your antics. The two of you chatted for a bit about your new plant shop and whether or not you missed working at the Ministry.

In the living room, the light squeaking of the bottle stopped. Ominis frowned in confusion. He could feel that there was still a bit of liquid sloshing around in the glass. Would the baby start crying again? Why had it stopped eating? Fearing the worst, he set the bottle down on the couch beside him and then leaned his ear in close to make sure the baby was still breathing. He placed his hand over its chest to feel the rise and fall. The tip of his middle finger touched its chin and the bottom of his hand was over its stomach. How could something be so small?

The baby’s hands latched onto his, one grabbing his thumb and the other his pinky, holding Ominis against its chest. Ominis blushed at the contact. The hands were soft and oh, so tiny. It could hardly clasp his thumb properly. Its breathing started to slow. The record on the phonograph came to an end, leaving a soft scratching sound to fill the room.

“Alright then,” his voice was but a whisper so that he wouldn’t disrupt the tranquil atmosphere of the room. Having his hand cradled like that made his heart clench tightly and painfully. The baby’s little cotton clothes were slightly wet around its neck from the formula, but other than that, Ominis didn’t mind that his hand was trapped.

His own breathing started to slow for the first time since arriving at Anne’s place.

A few moments later, you had been sent by Anne to collect her child. She wanted to snuggle with the baby while they both had a nap. The fiasco in the bathroom had worn her out.

The last thing you expected to see was a soft smile on Ominis’s lips while he seemed to be resting. The baby was pulled in close to his chest and was clutching into Ominis’s hand. They both looked fast asleep. The sight filled you with warmth. Your eyes softened, and you nearly wanted to shed a tear. Instead of disrupting them right away, you turned off the phonograph that had been playing nothing and washed the unfinished bottle in the kitchen sink.

When it came time to finally collect the baby from Ominis, you felt slightly guilty for dragging it out for so long. He just looked so precious holding a child. It was doing things to you, making you yearn for things you had sworn off thinking about.

With the utmost care, you reached to scoop the baby out of Ominis’s arms. His left arm tightened around the child, drawing her closer to his chest.

“Don’t,” he whispered.

That was…odd. Was he talking in his sleep? You couldn’t recall Ominis ever doing such a thing.

“It’s just me, love. I’ve come to relieve you from your babysitting duties. Sorry it took me so long.”

You tried going in for the exchange again, but Ominis insisted, “Just another moment, please. Just one moment.” His voice was breaking. It was clear now he hadn’t been sleeping at all to begin with because a tear escaped from the corner of his eye. It had been quite some time since you had seen Ominis in such a fragile state. When he would open up about his family and his childhood, sometimes he would get quiet like this. In those times, he had held onto you like you were driftwood in an ocean of terror he was drowning in. The way he was cradling the baby so close to his chest now meant he was anchoring to her at this moment. You couldn’t bring yourself to take her from him, even if the baby’s young mother was wanting to see her.

The only thing you could do was sit beside him on the couch. Your head rested on his shoulder and your hand rubbed in soft patterns across his arm. A few moments later, you had to tell him, “Anne sent me to collect the baby.”

Ominis nodded and softly said, “We shouldn’t keep her waiting any longer then. You can- you can take her now.”

There was a tense static in the room. The last thing you wanted to do was end this moment. Even with Sebastian’s for at born, Ominis had never asked to hold them, let alone hold them longer the few times he had been forced to.

“Why don’t you just carry her to the bedroom for me, hm?”

That was not what Ominis wanted to hear. His eyes widened with fear. “I can’t I- I don’t know how to.”

“It’ll be alright,” you were already adjusting his left arm so that he was providing better support underneath her as you spoke, “Just support her bum here. You can use your other arm too if you’re unsure. Just bring that one to cover here and- There. Now you’ve got a very good hold on her. After you get up from the couch just put it right back there where I showed you. I’ll lead you to the bedroom. Come along, now.”

Before he had time to come up with an excuse, you were dragging him up from the couch and guiding him to Anne’s room. Usually, he hated being guided places unless the situation was dire or he was in a big crowd. Sometimes people at work would try and guide from around the building. He took a bit of offense to it. If he ever needed a guide, he could just use his wand!

But now he was holding this tiny little thing in his arms, and it was alive and depending on him not to trip or bump into something. Without fighting it, Ominis let you hold his elbow and guide him across Anne’s house to the master bedroom. You had him sit in an armchair in the corner of the room as you joked with Anne, “You said, ‘Bring the baby’, and I wasn’t sure which one so naturally… I brought both.”

“You two look good like that. With her,” Anne commented as you put your hand on Ominis’s shoulder.

You were thankful Ominis couldn’t see your flush or the warning look you gave Anne. Around Ominis, you tried your hardest to avoid the topic of starting a family of your own. Your mother mentioned it every time the two of you visited her. She wanted grandkids. Usually, Anne and Sebastian were safe to converse with because they knew Ominis as well as you did. A comment like that almost felt out of character for Anne, especially since she was so protective of Ominis.

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” Ominis replied smoothly.

“Have you burped her yet?”

“Have I what?”

You laughed and patted Ominis on the shoulder. “That can get messy. Why don’t we let Anne do that, hm?”

“I can do it,” he offered quickly. “Just tell me how, and I can do it.”

You draped a towel over his shoulder and directed him to lay the baby against it. It didn’t take long to burp her. Ominis winced at the wet gurgling by his ear and the pungent, sour smell of the formula coming back tenfold. You giggled at his reaction and seemed to be cleaning up the baby’s face so that Ominis could go back to snuggling her.

“I’m glad you two are getting along. I’d hoped you would. After all, she’s named after you.”

A beat of silence dragged by before Ominis was able to ask, “What?”

“My little Minnie. Cute, don’t you think?” Anne smiled softly. “You were always there for me when Sebastian and I had our falling out. I appreciate you and I’m thankful for everything you’ve done for me.”

“Minnie is such a sweet name,” you commented once you realized Ominis was too stunned to respond. “Perfect for this sweet little girl.”

A couple of hours went by while you and Anne chatted. Ominis didn’t move from the armchair with Minnie and never once complained about his arm going numb from holding her.

Went you stood up so go start something for dinner, an Apparation crack sounded from outside. All three of you were alert and tense, wondering who it could be. You brought out your wand and headed to the front door, but it burst open before you had the chance to get there.

“Anne?!” The desperate cry of her husband called through the house. His heavy footsteps sprinted for the bedroom. Blood and scrapes littered his face and his hair and clothes were in disarray and even looked a bit singed. “Are you alright?” He raced to embrace her.

“You’ll have to give her up now, my love,” you whispered in Ominis’s ear while Anne and her husband reunited.

With a heavy sigh, Ominis stood from the armchair and approached the side of the bed Anne’s husband was standing on. He tearfully took Minnie from Ominis then looked at Anne in disbelief.

“She looks just like you.”

Sebastian’s wife was standing in the entryway, looking just as disheveled as Anne’s husband. While you and Ominis left the bedroom to give the new family some privacy, Sebastian’s wife explained, “There was a dragon attack that led to a cave-in. He was trapped for nearly a week.”

“Lucky you were able to find him. You’re amazing, honestly. Are you okay? Do you need anything? The both of you look like you got in a fistfight with the dragon!” You told her.

“Nearly did! Its tail swung at me at one point. It’s been an eventful day. All that’s on my mind is getting home to the kids and Sebastian.”

“We’ll be heading home as well, I think. Stay safe.”

With her gone, you cleaned up a few things around Anne’s house. Ominis tagged along on your cleaning spree, but he was nearly silent while doing so. You worried today might have been too much for him, but you would decide you would wait to check on him until after getting him to the comfort of your own home.

“You can floo first, Ominis! I’ll be right behind you. I’m just going to throw this blanket in the laundry bin.”

He was gone in a smokey, green flash. As promised, you traveled just a moment later. You hardly had a second to focus on the blur of your living room before a pair of hands were haphazardly dragging you forward until a rather demanding set of lips landed over yours. In his defense, Ominis had warned you earlier that day that he would be taking his stress out on you.

“What a lovely welcome home,” you comment when he pulls away, thinking it would end there.

His voice was a bit raspy in your ear, “Tell me what you’ve been wanting, and I’ll give it to you.” And although the sound of his voice was arousing, you could tell he wasn’t talking about anything sexual. There was a pointed annoyance in his tone. The unspoken dream you’ve been trying to keep to yourself secret all these years seemed to be weighing down on the both of you.

“Ominis, I don’t expect that of you. Is this because of what Anne said about us looking good with a baby? She was only teasing, Ominis. You know I would never ask that if you.”

Lips started to trail down your neck, tasting you. Between kisses, Ominis was whispering, “So good to me. Trying to hide her desires. It’s okay. I want it too.”

“What do you mean?” You managed out between gasps. His hands were exploring every inch of your body as if he didn’t already have you memorized. It took all of your willpower to restrain yourself and pull away from him because he seemed as though he was going to continue on without clarifying if you weren’t going to make him.

He groaned as if he was the one losing out on pleasure by you pulling away. “Want it too. Wanna give you a baby,” he whined softly. The words shocked you enough that your hold weakened. Ominis took the opportunity to lean back in, but you put your hands on his shoulders to hold him at bay.

“I think you caught an illness while at Anne’s,” you say in a worried tone. The back of your fingers pressed to his forehead. “Yup, just as I suspected. You have a bad case of baby fever. I think a good night's rest will be just the cure.”

Rolling his eyes at your antics, Ominis insisted, “I’ve thought about this before, and I know you want one. I don’t need sight to know how you feel about Sebastian’s kids. You are always coming up with excuses to be with them longer. It’s okay. I’m not going to be angry if you admit it. I just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy. I’m happy with you. I don’t need anything more. I would never ask for anything more.”

Ominis rested his forehead against yours. “I know you would never dare to ask. That’s why I’m offering.”

“And you’ll regret offering such things in the morning,” you reminded him.

“No, I won’t.”

“I know holding Minnie was overwhelming for you, but don’t let those new emotions cloud your judgment. You’ve never wanted kids before this. Just think for a moment and-“

“I have thought about it, many times. Maybe I’ve been apprehensive to the idea, but that was before. I thought it wasn’t possible for me to connect with children, that I wouldn’t be able to care for them the way a parent should. I thought I’d be cold and distant like my parents, so I didn’t want to bring a child into this world for them to feel alone and unwanted. But now, with her, I was able to care, to- to…”

“To love?” you offered

“Please say you believe me,” he sounded so lost and broken.

Your hands cupped his cheeks as you wiped away his tears of frustration. “I believe you. I never doubted that you wouldn’t be able to love our child if we had one. I just assumed you didn’t dare to let yourself try because of your parents. I love you, Ominis. Of course I want to have your children. I want them to be just as stubborn, but just as caring as you. I want them to have your sarcastic wit but also your devoted loyalty. It’s something I’ve thought about endlessly, so don’t think I’m turning you down when I ask for you to think on it just a while longer. Let the emotions from today come back down. I’ll make us dinner, we’ll go to bed. Then, whenever you are ready to talk about this, we will.”

Ominis managed to look disappointed but grateful at the same time. “I’ll think on it.”

And think on it he did, or simmer was a closer description. While you were in the kitchen, he pretended to read with his wand. There was a moment of uncertainty when he thought about how holding Minnie had made him feel. Would he be able to connect like that with his own child? But then again, how could he not? His own child would be half you, and he loved every part of you, even the side of you that thought you knew what was best for him by making him sit with his thoughts.

After a while, you brought him a cup of tea and kissed his temple. Ominis mumbled a thank you and continued to pretend to read. He could tell by the way you lingered in the doorway as you left the living room that you had used the tea as an excuse to check in on him. Instead of clueing you into his thoughts, he remained aloof and sipped his tea without showing any emotion positive or negative. The last thing he wanted was to hear you ramble about how he wasn’t in the right headspace to know what he truly wanted.

What he wanted was to be buried deep in you as he came. He wanted to, for once, not ruin his adrenaline rush by pulling out at the last second. He wanted you to have his child. He wanted a family with you, and he didn’t want to waste another second before starting it. This was something he should have done years ago.

“Dinner is ready,” you announced. There was a tremor in your voice as though you were nervous to speak to him. You spent the last thirty minutes hiding in the kitchen and wondering if he was cross with you since he hardly spoke at all when you brought him tea.

“It smells lovely in here.” Ominis played along with you, pretending not to notice your slip-up.

“Thank you. What were you reading?”

“A book that Sebastian’s wife recommended about keeping dragons.”

“That sounds intriguing.”

“It is.”

And that was all you got out of him. Ominis finished his food before you then disappeared to the kitchen to do the dishes while you sat in silence at the dining table. The wine wasn’t strong enough to keep your mind from worrying. How long would things be like this? Usually, Ominis was easy to get through to, so your arguments never lasted long. Would this remain an unspoken thing in your marriage for years to come? Forever?

You tiptoed into the kitchen with your empty plate. Ominis had done most of the dishes except for a single pan and the plate and fork in your hands. Even though you were trying to be as quiet as a mouse, Ominis held his open hand out in your direction and said, “Your plate.”

Reluctantly, you handed him the dirty dish. “Thank you for cleaning.”

“You cooked, so I cleaned. No reason to thank me. It’s only fair.”

“You’re right,” you whispered quietly.

Ominis raised his brow. “What? No comeback? No telling me how wrong I am for not accepting your gratitude? No making me think about it before I decide I want to do the dishes?”

“So you are mad at me!” You said it like it was an accusation. “I knew it. You’re being ridiculous! I’m only asking you to think on this before you decide!”

“You think I haven’t thought about it? Nearly ten years of marriage and you don’t think I fantasize about what it would feel like to hold you while my child is growing inside you?” He dried his hands on a dishrag and then leaned against the counter, looking exasperated. His volume hadn’t matched yours yet. He was holding back.

“You don’t have to do this just because it’s something I want!”

“Just because I’m scared doesn’t mean I don’t want it too!” His yell seemed to echo in the tiny kitchen.

After a second of trying to remind yourself how to breathe, you felt horrible for letting it escalate so far. Hearing Ominis was scared just made you want to comfort him. You spoke softly, “Ominis-“

“No, don’t do that. Don’t pity me and try to comfort me. Don’t use that as an excuse for us not to do this. Either you want us to have a child, or you don’t. I need you to be fully in on this as well. I’ll need you to show me how to make a bottle a few more times, how to change a diaper, and how to hold them properly. I need you to be patient with me, but I don’t want you to pity me. Is that understood?”

“I understand.” His words started to sink in. He seemed satisfied with your agreeability and turned back to the sink to finish the last two dishes. When the water cut off, you were still frozen in the center of your kitchen and trying to figure out if this was all real or a fever dream.

Ominis was humming a melody that had been playing earlier on Anne’s phonograph as he put away the pan he cleaned last. When he passed you by, a hand reached out to touch you. It dragged across your stomach to your hip and squeezed.

“If you are feeling against the idea any sort of way, now might be your last chance to speak up,” he warned, “I won’t be able to hold back tonight with this on my mind.”

“Don’t hold back-“ Was all he needed to hear before you were backed up against the kitchen counter with his lips how and heavy on yours. His approach was usually far more gentle. The two of you could kiss for hours before he’d even cop a feel. Now his hands were unbuttoning your clothes at your waistline and tugging the fabric down with haste.

This is what you’ve been dreaming of. Only a handful of times had Ominis ever devoured you in such a way. Things were more heated when the two of you were younger, exploring each other, and having uncontrollable urges. Since marriage, Ominis had calmed in that sense. You lived together, so he had the ability to take his time and appreciate every inch of you. It was always about bringing you pleasure as many times as the night would allow. Tonight was a stark contrast to those gentle touches.

Before you knew it, he had your panties around your ankles and was telling you to sit on the counter that he had just cleaned. You hopped up as told, but your position still didn’t have his approval. His fingers hooked under your knees and yanked so that your ass slid across the counter until it was nearly hanging off the edge. He smirked at the feeling of your heated core bumping into his dress pants.

“Right there. Stay right there on the edge for me.” And then he was sinking to his knees. His hands held your inner thighs to keep you from trying to close them, not that you would have.

His mouth was everywhere except the one place you wanted it so desperately. Your clit ached for attention. It seemed like Ominis would be taking his sweet time with you after all. This was usually welcomed attention, but tonight, you wanted him inside you more than anything. You didn’t even need to finish yourself as long as he spilled inside of you.

But even though your mind didn’t need an orgasm, that didn’t mean your body wasn’t craving it. Your hips bucked slightly when his nose nearly brushed against your clit. His hands held you down on the counter as he chuckled. The vibration of his laugh made you quiver.

“Don’t fall off the counter, now. Twisting your ankle won’t get you out of taking my cock. I’d just lay you on the bed and elevate your foot with pillows before filling you up.”

“Ominis,” your voice came out like you were scolding him. He’s spoken dirty before, but never quite like that.

“Just today you admitted in this very kitchen that you push my buttons on purpose to get me to snap and bite you, yet I’m the one being told off. And for what? Making sure my wife’s hypothetical, hurt ankle would be taken care of before I give her the child she so desperately wants?”

“I- oh-,” You lost your train of thought as his lips brushed against your clit before taking it in his mouth and sucking. The feeling was too much after waiting for so long. You squirmed again, this time to get away. The feeling in the pit of your stomach always felt better releasing when things had been slow and steady. Now, you could feel the tension building alarmingly fast.

Ominis took your hips trying to move as a sign of your eagerness. His tongue lapped up your wetness that had started to seep out. Then, it dipped inside of you and his nose rubbed against your clit. Your hands were gripping the edge of the counter to keep yourself from flying off.

Now you were saying his name like a prayer. Your breathy pleas were quite the opposite from how you had just scolded him a few moments ago. Hearing you pant and mumble his name made him smirk. You could feel the corner of his mouth rise slightly against you. That action was enough to send you over the edge, almost literally if Ominis hadn’t been holding you in place on the counter. He kept his tongue in place to feel you pulse around it, though he was careful not to overstimulate you and ruin your high. Only when the pulsations slowed to nearly an end did he pull back and stand up.

“Such a good girl for me. Coming on my tongue and sounding so sweet.” He kissed you with the taste of your juices still on his tongue. You hadn’t even dared to let go of the counter while Ominis got to work unbuttoning his own pants. “Was gonna wait to have you in the bedroom, but I don’t think I can.” And then, he was lined up at your entrance and pushing in.

His movements were slow as he took you in an all consuming kiss to distract you from the stretch. Normally, you could handle whatever Ominis threw at you. This time, you were sitting nearly upright because of how close Ominis held your for the kiss. The position made it hard to take him fully, at least in an enjoyable way. You tried leaning back, and while that did help things start to feel pleasurable, your hand had landed in a stick of butter. The plate clanked against the counter. You immediately cursed under your breath.

Ominis, having heard the plate, had the audacity to laugh at your demise. He pulled out and scolded you, “You aren’t making a mess of my clean kitchen, are you?”

“It seems like you’ll have to wait until we get to the bedroom after all, and now I’ve got to wash my hand as well!”

His hands didn’t leave you the entire time you stood at the sink to try and scrub away the slimy mess on your hand. Even while walking down the hallway his hands were at work taking off your shirt and throwing it who knows where. Needless to say, you were both naked by the time you made it to the bedroom.

Vibrations ran down your neck from his voice mumbling while his lips were against your skin. “Lay on the bed.”

You had expected his hands to be all over you again the moment your back landed on the mattress. Instead, Ominis felt around for the pillows at the head of the bed. He tapped your hip. “Lift up.”

It was hard to deny his odd request because of how deeply you loved when he got a bit bossy like this. You lifted your bum so that he could slide a few pillows under you. The gesture seemed sweet, but entirely unnecessary. You’d been married for nearly nine years now, it wasn’t like you were delicate in the bedroom.

“You’re very sweet, my love, but I don’t need this to be comfortable. You won’t break me.”

Ominis stilled. His hand rested on your thigh. It looked as though he was debating something. “It’s not… for your comfort.”

“Then why are you- oh.” You swallowed your words when it set in. Your hips were high in the air like this. Gravity would make the mess Ominis was about to make stay inside you instead of seeping out.

“But are you comfortable like this?” Ominis ran his hand from your hip to your breast. His hand squeezing around you was faint and soft, more akin to a tender caress instead of anything overtly sexual.

“Yes,” you earnestly answered.

“You might have to stay like this for quite some time,” Ominis leaned closer to your ear to whisper, “Can you handle that?”

You nodded, then felt stupid before replying verbally, “I’m comfortable like this. I can stay as long as you think it’s necessary for it to… set in.”

His hand moved from your breast to lay over your heartbeat for a moment. A satisfied smirk spread across his lips. “Your heart is racing.”

“I might be a bit excited.”

“Oh yeah?” Both his hands smoothed down your body until they rested on your hips. He got on his knees between your legs. “Is that what people are calling it these days?” His thumb messily rubbed over your clit then dipped down between your folds to feel the sticky arousal that had been leaking out of you since the kitchen. There wasn’t much of a rhythm to his movements because he was just wetting his hand so that he could lubricate himself, but still, his hand touching you there in any capacity made your breathing pick up.

You were mumbling his name all desperate and breathy. Ominis chuckled at how needy you sounded. Giving you what you were begging for, he lined himself up, which caused you to whimper even more because his tip dragged across your clit a few times before he found your entrance. As he started to sink in, you sighed in relief. This angle was much better than sitting on the counter. With surprising ease, he nearly bottomed out. There was just a pinch of tightness that made him still for a moment.

His lips were leaving tender kisses across your chest and neck while he let you adjust to the feeling. You were mumbling into his neck for him to move, to take you. Your neediness made him want to give in to those desires, but Ominis wanted to memorize everything about this moment. The smell of sweat and sex in the air was absolutely vile, but incredibly mouthwatering all the same. He could go deeper than he ever had before at this angle, but that area felt tight around his tip. Ominis pulled out slightly and thrust back in slowly, being careful not to go too far and hurt you.

“More,” you were begging, nearly crying in the crook of his shoulder.

Not being able to deny you a second longer, Ominis started to thrust his hips. It wasn’t shallow, but he still wouldn’t let himself go further than the two of you were used to. Your arms wrapped around him and your nails lightly skimmed across his shoulders. He shivered and his hips stuttered unevenly, accidentally driving deeper into you. Immediately, Ominis pulled back and whispered an apology in your ear, but you held tighter onto him.

“Again, do it again.”

A tentative hand brushed the hair off your forehead so Ominis could kiss it. He pushed in deeper, but deliberately slow so he could listen for any signs of discomfort. His thumb found your clit again, hoping to give you a bit of pleasure to combat the fullness. The second his thumb grazed over you, your walls convulsed around his cock and your body shook erratically.

Ominis felt his own waves of pleasure building. On instinct, he tried to pull out to finish on your stomach. Your thighs wrapped around his waist to hold him in place.

“Please, come inside me. I want to make you a daddy.”

Your words made the tips of his ears go red. But now that he wasn’t so lost in the moment, he remembered the whole point of the evening, why he had made you rest your hips on a pile of pillows, and why he was able to reach this deep inside you in the first place.

“Stop me if it hurts,” was all the warning Ominis could give before his hips started to rut against you, hitting as deep as his length would allow with every feverish thrust. His pelvis was hitting your clit each time, Turning you right back into a moaning mess beneath him.

“There, right there.”

His breath was hot and heavy on your neck, “Gonna fill you up with my seed, sweetheart. I’m gonna fuck you just like this twice a day with your hips all high and willing to take me until we find out it worked. And then, I’m going to keep coming in you every night after to celebrate. I’ll fill you up so good, that we won’t know if it’s my come or my child growing in you that’s making you bigger.”

Talking dirty wasn’t new for Ominis, but it was rarely obscene and never, ever like this. That with how deep and fast he was fucking you made you speechless, breathless, thoughtless. You couldn’t even see straight, so you just held onto him for dear life and panted, but no breath was deep enough to fill your lungs or call you down. The tension in your entire body builds to the point that your leg was cramping. You wrapped it around Omni’s leg just to ease the pressure, but Ominis saw that as you wanting him to go harder.

So he did. His hips snapped into you hysterically. You cried out in ecstasy as another orgasm hit you like a train.

His hips faltered and he groaned as he came while your walls relentlessly milked his cock. You couldn’t stop writhing beneath him. Feeling his warm spurts of come paint your walls and add pressure made your intense waves of pleasure drag out. Ominis was on his elbows and panting, his lips right above yours. You already couldn’t breathe, but you pulled him down for a kiss regardless.

“I love you,” he gasped as he pulled away from the kiss. “Was that okay? Are you hurting? Should I get you a-“

Ominis had started to move, but your arms wrapped tighter around him and your walls clenched around his length. “Don’t move yet. Stay. Just stay.”

Seeming to understand and reciprocate your need to be close, Ominis rested on an elbow and then used his other hand to caress your body as if you were made of glass. “I’m not going anywhere, love.”

The two of you laid like that for a while just playing with each other’s hair and whispering sweet nothings. Soon, Ominis started to get hard again inside of you. He slyly shifted his hips, but his excuse of getting more comfortable didn’t work on you.

“Ominis,” you whined in an exhausted tone. How was he ready to go again!?

His kisses on your neck paused while he laughed against your skin. “Well, I did say twice a day until we’re certain, didn’t I?”

[aardvaark]

parker being the one to voice concerns that nate is getting more sadistic is so funny to me. twenty minutes ago you poisoned someone & started giggling and kicking your feet when they passed out

[soft-serve-soymilk]

Bitches be fighting (it’s the head children 😘☺️)

[sail-not-drift]

(Via @wildehacked )

eddie diaz from the abc tv series 911

Please reblog for a larger sample size.

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[screampied]

❛ NEVER WANNA LOSE ME. ❜ t. fushiguro

☆ sum. for the hell of it, you let your roommate toji hit just once and he’s never been the same. what starts as a usual lazy smoke sesh turns into him wanting more than just to get high—he wants you.

wc. 6.4k

warnings. fem! reader, college au, toji & reader are in early twenties, vırgin toji, pússy drunk toji, mentions of pre-substance consumption, impact play, fıngering, squırting, praise, he finishes quick, dry humping, ōral (f! receiving), size kink, talking him through it, spıt.

he’s never had a girl like you in his life.

with toji—he doesn’t do women. well he does, but not in that literal sense. he puts up a front whenever around his boys. little do they know he doesn’t know the first thing about a woman. he has little to no game, he’s a fake. a loser. but all of that changes until he meets you. you’re his roommate and the only person he can really stand. to toji, you were someone he could ramble to, someone to get high with and make fun of cheesy romcoms together. . like now.

“you always insist we watch this shit,” he huffs, leaned back against the couch. he’s got his legs raised over the sofa as he bores his stoic eyes into the screen. squinting at the cheesy subtitles on display, he takes another puff. “dunno why y’er so scared of watchin’ alien. now that’s a movie.”

“toji that’s boring,” you murmur, snuggling up close to him. he never really minded, it was always like this. he’s got a broad arm thrown over the back edge of the sofa as you’re leaned up against him. the both of you were blitzed, feeling a wave of euphoria surge through the both of you. the closer you got to him, the more you smelled him. god, that cologne—he practically pours it all over his body and it’s always so strong. toji could feel your head rubbing up against his wrinkled tank top before he glances down at you. “. . . your taste in movies suck.”

as you trail off your words, it’s a deadly awkward pause between the two of you as he just stares deep into your eyes. you wonder why he’s so quiet all of a sudden, why he’s just got that blank expression. but toji cups your chin, using a bare thumb to swipe against the inner crevice of your mouth. “tch. messy girl.”

oh.

you blink thrice once his thumb swiftly moves against the corner of your lip. it’s a subtle moment that’s seems way more intimate than it should of.

the dorm room grows substantially quiet and the only sounds that could be heard were the main characters of the movies talking in the background.

you never leave your locked gaze on toji and he gently rubs a finger near your lip. “you had leftover ice cream on your lip,” he utters, and you see his eyes flicker toward your mouth. so pretty, he thinks to himself. the way they curve and twist as you switch facial expressions. he’s sitting up now, taking in your face and could almost feel you lean into his touch. almost. a lump gets caught in the throat before he clears his throat, glancing away. “i— uh, sorry. that was stupid.”

you look at toji and his body language is different from how it usually was. he’s got a downcast pout, slouching back against the leather made sofa. cute, he’s blushing. you notice the way both temples of his cheeks burn and heat up and you raise a brow, scooting up close toward him. “it wasn’t stupid,” you utter, grabbing the remote and turning it on mute. with his burly arms crossed, he slowly stares back at you with a perplexed look. “toji. do you wanna kiss me?”

“what?” he blurts out a bit louder than he intended. could you read his mind?

he felt himself get hotter and not just his cheeks.

toji looks into your eyes, biting his tongue once he realizes you probably caught him staring at your glossy plump lips. he did want to kiss you. he wanted to kiss you so bad—he just didn’t know how to initiate, he didn’t want to just flat out kiss you or anything. darkened brows of his tweak into a relaxed furrow before he sighs. “y- yeah,” he gruffly murmurs, the steady pulses of his heartbeat growing faster.

“you could have said so,” you tease, leaning up close and wrapping your arms around him. he’s glancing at you, both of you had half-lidded eyes, pupils dilating full of sparkles and lust. toji awkwardly sets his hands aside once you straddle yourself on his lap. the thin fabric of his basketball shorts tickle against the undersides of your thighs before you plop down.

it’s so quiet, you scrape a thumb behind his soft undercut before leaning up close.

toji’s mind was going crazy. he was about to kiss you. he was about to finally kiss you. but there was just one problem.

he didn’t know how.

just as your lips were on the brink of planting themselves onto his, he whispers against you.

“w- wait.”

you pause, glancing at him. “hm?”

“i— um,” he looks away, that same reddened tint painting over his face once more. it’s so cute, out of the few years on campus you’ve grown to know this guy, you don’t think you’ve seen him in such a state. an embarrassed state. jade green eyes flicker everywhere around the room but towards you and he sighs. “i’ve never . . kissed before.”

a smile marinates against your features as you stroke a thumb near the scar that runs down the right side of his lips. “oh,” you hum, and he almost glares at you but remembers you’re literally sitting on his lap. toji holds back a groan, the addicting friction of your body hovering over him makes him start to imagine lewd things. he couldn’t help it, and the taunting stare you gave him only made things worse. “that’s okay, just follow my lead,” and the two of you lock eyes again. toji gives you a subtle nod before feeling you drag his hands toward your hips. “just hold my hips ‘n close your eyes, it’s okay.”

he doesn’t know if it’s because of the fact that he’s stoned out of his mind but you’re just so pretty.

you were feeling the mild after effects too, your eyelids felt heavy the further you leaned into him. toji’s big open palms cling onto your waist as you finally close the distance, pressing your lips onto his.

from first contact, he tastes sweet.

his lashes flutter close as he lets you control, gently moving your tongue against his. it was cute how awkward he was, toji didn’t know what to do. you heard him groan the moment you playfully suck against his tongue. every few seconds, he’d hear the sounds wet smacking coming from each mouth—how a bit of saliva would start to dribble down the side of his lips.

fuck, he tilts his head back, parting his uneven lips a bit further for you.

toji tastes minty, his hands find themselves roaming lower down your body as you teasingly grind more against him. he grunts, feeling you continuously meet against his bricked up friend.

he was hard—you knew that. it was poking at you underneath your shorts. a smile stretches on your lips as you deepen the hot steamy kiss, hearing the faint sounds of teeth clashing. he’s so hot, literally and physically. toji feels like he was sweating bullets when he really wasn’t.

he’s had countless dreams of this, of you.

the two of you would always get high together and chill, binging countless movies until the two of you knocked out. but now, it was different. you were making out with each other. it took you by surprise that he’s never kissed anyone—you sort of thought otherwise, especially with how he acts around other girls. of course, that’s all you really see. but behind closed doors, perhaps your roommate’s more different than you thought.

the passionate kiss accelerates further the moment you feel toji’s big hands creep near your ass. his fingers tug near the protected fabric of your shorts, desperate for them to come off. your repetitive swaying against his lap was damn near torture. he groans, finally pulling away from your lips to watch those glossy strings depart from each mouth.

“fuck,” he grunts hoarsely, his eyes darting back toward your sheeny lips. he’s already had a taste of you and he wanted more.

toji holds you firmly in place before leaning into the crook of your neck, pressing a soft kiss near your collarbone. “i- i want more,” he grouses, the tint in his shorts only growing larger. you felt it, all of it. with the way your hips playfully rubbed against the loose clothing — you were only fueling the fire. toji’s voice got a bit lower with its pitch and it was attractive with how needy was.

like he was desperately craving for this moment to happen.

he really was though.

you could see the look in his eyes - he’s hungry.

call it a little crush or whatever but he’s had his eyes on you for a while. toji was horrible whenever it came to feelings, terrible.

he didn’t think much of it, the two of you were just roommates who’d occasionally get blitzed together every blue moon. unless it was something else.

“it’s okay,” your breath hitch as you feel his soft lips assault near your neck.

he was gentle, coating invisible markings that stick against your skin like glue. your head slowly leans back as he starts to softly suck against your skin, keen edges of teeth tenderly tickling against your exposed flesh.

you were so sweet, it just wasn’t fair.

toji’s hands remain attached to your hips before he makes you lie back. you land backward with a little cute oof, glancing up at him as your back lightly hits against the cushioned furniture. “someone’s getting eager.”

“s- shut up,” he kisses his teeth, taking a good view at your body. so pretty, two words that he’s gonna forever keep repeating to describe you. toji couldn’t believe its taken him this long to get to this point.

truth be told, he was pretty shy. but now that you’re all sprawled and laid back, something ignited in him. he slowly spreads your legs with one hand, using a thumb to tug against the flimsy string of your shorts. you watch him intently, growing quiet — the room only fills up with noises of his soft feral pants. he peeps the little anklet that wraps around your ankle before he starts to pull off your shorts. “m- may i?”

“go ‘head.” you murmur, smiling at how he stops untying your shorts just to hear your permission.

your sweet words telling him to go forward, it’s all he needed to continue. callused fingertips pull down your shorts all the way until he’s met with your laced panties. god, he’s feeling a lump get caught in his throat. the way your panties stick against your thighs, how gorgeous the lace looked decorating against your skin, he couldn’t stop staring. .

toji inches his head down, going between your thighs. his hair - it was unkempt, he outgrew his hair within these past few weeks. it was cute, a few black strands of his reach near his shoulders.

he was really slow,

he’s pacing himself because he wants to savor this moment and your beauty. but to be honest, he didn’t know what the fuck he was doing. toji brings a awkward kiss toward the center part of your panties, watching you shudder. “mhm,” a low gruff comes out of him before he looks up at you. “was that good?”

“y- yeah, toji,” you swallow thickly, a hand of your own finding its way into his tangled sable tresses. he looks at you, finding your combing fingers digging through his scalp somewhat relaxing. he’s ogling at you like he’s waiting for you to say something else and you giggle. “right, you probably haven’t eaten a girl out either.”

“shut up,” he grimaces, bathing in his own cringe.

it’s almost adorable. it was adorable. he leans into your touch, staring at your slick dribbling pussy. he’s so close, you could almost peep his mouth watering. “just . . tell me what else ‘ta do, please.”

your face softens at his desperation. toji’s bottom lip pokes out a bit and you inhale, ruffling his hair a bit.

“okay, just start slow. ‘s no rush. start near my thighs ‘n give it a few kisses” and right at your words, he begins to give your thighs sweet individual kisses. he’s fast, you almost let off a moan before sitting up. “good, good, like that,” and his eyelashes close, making sure to give everywhere—even the secret secluded crevices of your thighs all types of attention. your skin was lukewarm, and each time it goes against his skin he only wants more. he hears your body fall back, the sofa screeching a wail from the sudden weight. “n- now um, kiss around here.”

toji pauses, watching as you spread yourself open for him with two fingers. with enticed driven eyes, he watches as you play with yourself to show him what to do next. your finger points near a soft pulsing area—your vulva, you wanted him to kiss right there. it’s shiny, drooling down with your own slick and he only imagined what it tasted like.

what you tasted like.

he doesn’t say anything—instead, he lets his mouth do the talking.

toji’s watched more than enough vulgar videos on pussy eating to know which exact methods to do.

but still, this was real life and nothing was exaggerated. your sweet whimpers and moans were very much real. he starts by kissing around and near your vulva - slow sloppy kisses that make your thighs twitch and your toes curl. he then begins to stimulate your clit with his tongue, swirling it around gently and you moan.

“fuuuck. . jus like that toji,” you breathe, digging your teeth into your lip.

he was already a quick learner, despite having no experience with practically anything.

with one trembling finger, you lift up his chin and he leans into your touch once more. “eyes up here baby,”

‘. . baby,’

his dick immediately twitches from that simple pet name. viridescent eyes of pure emerald stare into yours before you push him just a bit closer into your soddened cunt. “flatten out your tongue a bit. ‘s okay to spit on it a little.”

his ears perk up a bit at your words. “spit on it?”

“yeah,” you run a few more fingers in his hair, delving them into his soft scalp. “make it wet.”

“fine,” toji mumbles, and as his tongue’s moving upwards against your slobbering entrance. he gathers a decent wad of saliva before he spits right on your pussy. a slick ‘ptui’ sound slithers from his lips once he does so—you’re already wet but doing so, it gets you even wetter. a bit of cobwebby lustrous strands cling onto his lips as he watches his mess trickle down onto your folds. he groans, watching the cute pulse happen right between your legs.

so sloppy,

he adores the sloshing squelches your pussy makes at the simple gesture. toji’s never tasted anything so sweet before. “ugh, good. like that,” you moan. as you’re praising him, you then start to feel the quiver in your legs quicken. toji stretches his long tongue even further inside of you—pointing his tongue in a certain direction as his head leisurely sways itself side to side. as you’re telling him exactly how to eat you out, he starts to suck. you whine, feeling his pursing lips clamp around your twitching muscle. it’s so good,

his slurps were so nasty and he groans from your noises alone. as he’s eating you out—he can’t help but jerk his hips into the sofa, getting off to your pleasure. panting, you drag his head up by the hair so he could look at you again. “ ‘s okay, toji. y- you can use a finger or two also.”

“ ‘kay,” he grumps, and he feels your eyes boring into him. specially, you were mainly fixating on his hands. his veiny rough looking hands. you found yourself staring at toji’s hands a lot. they were so big, so wide, thick fat fingers. .

maybe you thought about having them wrapped around your neck, shoved down your throat, buried deep inside your-

your short fantasm and lewd thoughts get cut off the second he sinks a single digit inside—his middle finger. you whimper, slumping back against the sofa as his tongue still flicks against your cunt.

“fuuuck,” you chew on your words, your candied whines only grow more elongated as he seeps deeper inside of you. you take his finger in freely, it’s a perfect fit. with a brief ‘pop’ he’s inside and he feels you trying to clamp ‘n squeeze around his finger. toji’s kissing against your cunt again, shaping his crooked lips into ‘o’ before nibbling near your clit. “oh my goddd.” you gasp, feeling the pressure amongst you increase. his tongue was warm—but with the mixture of his finger, you started to feel your thigh haphazardly bounce. he was still lacking in some areas but you didn’t mind teaching him how to improve.

slowly, he brings another finger inside and now your cunt’s trying to squeeze down two of him. your brows curl up in rapture whilst his tongue happily roams all around you. he’s lapping up his saliva, slurping yours, and spitting right back on it all over again.

“so fuckin’ good,” he groans against your damp folds, causing vibrations just from his mouth. hot pants of breath aerate against your skin. you were getting close, your body started to get more and more unsteady. as your back arches, you yank on his hair a bit. “ow,” he looks up at you with a snarl, but he has a sheepish grin. with toji’s thick twin fingers plummeting in and out of you, he bites down near the edge of your pulled to the side panties. “am i doin’ good, princess?”

“y- yeah, ‘m gonna cum,” you whimper in a shaky tone, swiftly dragging his head back and forth.

toji’s plump glossed lips smear all around your cunt and you moan. he’s so messy and his chin being smothered with your slick. it’s running down, and he’s quite literally drowning in pussy.

your pussy.

the points of his ears twitch at your words though once he comes to the sheer realization—you were about to finish. as you’re getting closer, your grip against his hair tightens. “suck harder toji, ‘s okay. use your tongue, baby.”

with open ears and a open mouth, he listens, closing his eyes once more as his swollen lips latch around your entrance. you bite your lip, feeling his scar brush up against your cunt and it tickles.

so soaked, his fingers continue to insert in and out of you and you’re a nothing but a whiny mess.

your moans bounce through the thin walls of the spacey dorm before he kisses your clit. “make a mess on my mouth,” he almost pleads, a slight tremor in his voice. toji’s so into it that he doesn’t he notice he’s still humping the sofa. he’s humping the pillow propped directly underneath him to be exact. sloppy feral thrusts—his boner was almost painful and he needed more. he felt embarrassed, getting off to your pleasure. your sounds only made him grind harder though, and he groans once you’re literally tugging his head back and forth against you. “c’mon, give it pretty.”

his hoarse voice had you drenched even more, you feel the sharp pang of nirvana jolt through every artery and vessel stored inside your legs before it happens. you came, you’re teetering against his face as your hips buck into his mouth. he’s met with a sweet taste in his mouth.

a taste from you.

it lingers on his tongue as he merrily laps it up, drinking you until you’re all clean according to his mouth. your eyes were murky and doe eyed—you were holding in a breath you didn’t even know you were keeping in. as your chest deflates, you let off a loud ear shrilling climax and toji snickers. so cute, you were a mess. he was an ever bigger mess since his jaw was rightfully locked and sore, precious slick smoothly cascading down his smooth chin like it was a stream.

“fuck,” you huff out, wisping a few crumped fingers through his hair. your hold on his thin strands lessen as you lean back completely dumbfounded.

“did i do good?” toji utters in a raspy tone, lapping a few remnants of your honeyed juices near your outer folds. he slides his fingers out of you only to lick them clean, right before your very eyes.

panting, you nod. “yeah, y- yeah, you did good,” and you watch as shifts, closing the gap between you both. toji sits up from between your legs, and he starts the kiss this time.

your hooded eyes collapse for a moment, closing before you return the sloppy kiss. you moan, relishing at the obscene taste of yourself that now lives on his tongue. it’s sweet, your tongue curls its way around his before he sneaks a hand down between your thighs. you whimper in his mouth, feeling his broad hand give your cunt a big squeeze. you twitched right in his palm and he groans. your noises only made him want you ten times more.

with loud smacks of lips smacking against each other, you make your way on top of toji again. he’s looking at you—panting just like you were. his arched brows compress together as he grabs your hips in place. “you’re so hot,” he exhales, immediately regretting saying that out loud. he sees the slight bashful expression form on your face before you pull on his grey shorts. “y- y’er gonna ride me?”

“yeah,” you mutter, playing with the hem of his boxers. your thumb glissades against it, so soft. it sticks out above his shorts that were merely halfway on. “can i?”

toji nods. “uh huh,” and the fucking boner he had.

you felt it earlier but you knew he was suffering. each second you spent on his lap, the worse it became. it was up until you successfully removed his shorts and you started to grind your hips against his hardened bulge. “s- shit,” he curses, his head immediately throwing itself back. you’re playing with him—swaying up and down his procreated shaft. toji clenched his jaw, a hand of his squeezing the right cheek of your ass. “fuck, ‘s not fair. y’ said you were gonna ride me.”

“i am riding you, toji,” you hum, still a bit shaken up from your most recent orgasmic release. toji narrows his eyes at you and you toss your arms over his shoulders. “see?”

“tch. y’er bein’ unfair, princess.” he scowls at you.

toji’s got your hips in his hands as he’s lazily sat back. his hair was even more ruffled and messed up from your hands yanking and pulling on it. a few black strands run down his almond shaped eyes, shielding his vision a bit. as you proceed to move and jitter your hips around him, you then feel a sudden damp spot.

toji freezes - you freeze.

right near the poking center part of his boxers, it’s a spot where his boner lies that’s dampening up the piece of clothing rather quickly.

with furrowed brow, you glance down—pausing your jerking movements before eyeing toji. “toji. did you just . . . cum?”

suddenly, he grows mute, fuck.

he did—you figured he was sensitive but you didn’t think it was this much. his lips twitch and he’s trying to suppress a moan, it’s adorable. toji wasn’t so used to such contact, he thought he’d last a maybe one round or two, but he wasn’t even inside yet.

his jaw tightens and you spot his veins pulsing out through his skin. you stare at the now grey wet patch that sticks onto his half on boxers.

“oh, toji,” you softly smile, feeling him abruptly bury his face into your neck. he’s still groaning. you hold him, feeling him shiver a bit at your touch—you weren’t used to seeing this side to him, ever. “it’s okay,” you coo, and he’s practically whimpering into your neck. his gruff voice made you pulse and it only got louder. “it happens,” and you feel the stickiness start to bedaub against your fully exposed clit. with a timid expression, you tug in the hem of his boxers. “do you still wanna-”

“please,” he finally speaks again, his voice cracking.

toji’s eyes meets yours again and he’s just longing to feel you from the inside. despite his pussy drunken state, he was so desperate. your teasing only made him ten times more feral. cringing at his own self, his eye twitches. clearing his throat, he helps you pull down his boxers. “eh, i mean yeah. ride me.”

you block your tongue down your throat to refrain from giggling before his cock finally springs out.

it’s thick with a bunch of girth to support it. you can’t help but openly gawk a bit. you figured he’d be a packer but damn. you could literally equate his shaft to the size of a beer can. multiple veins ran down the sides and his base was even fatter than his actual size entirely—not to mention, it’s so pretty.

toji’s angry mushroom tip was glistening with sweltering fresh cum. he’s made quite the mess from that you could see already. he’s got a pink tip with an even more pink cockhead.

his heavy base, it’s swollen and had a tannish pigment color his entire dick. you lick your lips, preparing to align yourself and he grunts.

“s- slow baby,” he murmurs, gently burying his fingertips into both sides of your hips. you give him a nod, leaning up close to his face. you could hear the crack in his voice again before a husky groan rip out his throat. you’re so close to his face that you can’t help but pepper a few kisses near his crooked uneven lips. “fuck, fuck me.

as you’re lowering yourself down on his cock, you let off a moan - and so does he.

toji’s eyelids grow more heavy as he feels himself disappearing into your welcoming sloppy cunt. as toji’s barreling his fat dick inside, he squeezes your ass, feeling your walls swallow and suck him in entirely.

you were so soaked—so soaked, clamping down on him effortlessly and you were barely even moving. toji groans, finding his teeth tucking their ways into the left part of your neck as he holds you close.

“my god,” he hisses, continuing to bury his weighty cock into your slippery cunt.

you were so loud, especially right between your legs. every few seconds you’d be filling the room with wet squelches, pops and pops of pleasurable whines coming straight from your sweet cunt. it’s a feeling he’s never felt.

this felt a lot better than pathetically stroking himself off with the help of some off brand lotion as a substitute. he cringes at the thought because he was finally feeling the real thing. “fuck, ‘s fuckin’ warm, princess. you feel so good inside.”

“yeah?” you pant, and you’re almost all the way in before you grind your hips just a bit forward.

toji’s so thickly built that it takes your body a few seconds to acclimatize. you could feel the bulky tip of his cock extend straight through your spongey walls and it felt so good.

too good.

you could almost drool, that’s how good it felt—

he had staggering jaw-dropping inches that easily stretched you out like your cunt was simply elastic. it had you yearning for more. you lick near his chin where a few dripping droplets of slick run down before you kiss the curvature of his perfectly chiseled jaw. “ ‘m gonna start movin’ okay, toji?”

“okay.” he intakes a single breath, tracing the heart shaped parts of your ass with his fingers.

raspy pants bellow out from his vocal cords in such a rough raw way before he hears the squish.

your ass plops down on his lap and your hips start to create haste. toji grinds his teeth together the minute you start to rut further into him—his head slowly falling back. his eyes were barely open and yet he’s still finding the strength to look at you, look at your pretty face as you’re fucking him stupid.

his mouth slowly opens but no words come out. instead, sweet moans of your name leave his lips and it makes your ears twitch.

toji’s fully in and you feel every inch of him.

you’re bouncing on his dick until your ass was hitting near the hilt, the swollen base of his shaft felt so full and he’s chewing back sharp breaths that try to leave his packed full lungs. his high shortly leaves him with a slight pussy drunken grin and it’s so attractive—

the way his crimson glossed lips appeared all lopsided and droopy, twisting nto a sheepish smile. you spot two visible dimples on both sides of cheeks poking out from his lazy feral half-grin. you even found it hot how every so often he’d flick his tongue near the scar that slopes down the right side of his mouth.

“fuck me,” he repeats, using both hands to make you bounce harder.

skin against skin, both bodies press and squish against each other, and rocking in rhythm and lustful harmony. both of you felt so hot.

scorchingly hot, his heat radiates off of you and you lean into his warm.

it was so hot that you felt like you were gonna melt right on his lap—being turned into nothing but a puddled mess.

you whine, feeling his reddened tip start to thrash against your most sweetest spots.

thwack after abrupt thwack, it was tender at first but now it started to become more sloppy, more sloppy and rude. his mushroom tip swirls around your gripping, coating your insides while leaving blissful french kisses so good that your toes curl up again. “f- fuck, ‘s good, makin’ me feel—”

and his words get interrupted once you stop his sentence for another kiss. “mmph,” he jolts back, speedily returning the sultry embrace.

he could never get enough of your taste, that was for certain. your honed hips continue to buck forward into him as he’s fighting dominance for your tongue—you reel into him continuously as your thighs start to feel a twinge of convulsions.

toji’s balmy breath collides against yours as you slowly pry open your mouth, swapping strings of saliva and lapping up the few remnants of spit that dribble down past the cracks of his lips. “ngh, baby,” he whines between kisses, and his voice softens a bit. it’s not its usual cocky tone. it’s more affectionate,

more tender.

toji can’t keep his hands off of you. as he’s breathlessly speaking between kisses—a whisper of murmurs, he starts to spank your ass. smack after smack, you moan once his palm swats against you, encouraging your hips to go faster.

he quickly gets addicted to the reacting recoil. it was just the way your facial expressions twist from each smack and your little gasps at the brief stings that live near the centers of your rear.

“harder toji,” you whimper, digging your knees more into his thighs. with how fast you were bouncing on his cock, you were already in a trance. a trance you never wanted to get out of.

“tch,” he scoffs, giving your ass another spank. then one turns into two, then three.

he likes the way the fat of your ass collides against his palm. it’s enticing—he stares at you before biting near your chin. it’s more of a playful nibble. dark pools of eyes meet yours and you spot them through your peripherals. you moan at his touch before he feels you push him further back against the sofa. toji looks at you, falling back before you take the wheel. “fuck, gonna make me cum?”

and you don’t give him a reply. he prefers it that way. your hips end up speaking for you and as you rock against him quicker, the sofa cries out a plethora of squeals at the pressures of weight pounding onto it. “yeah you fuckin’ are,” he groans, pulling at the right cheek of your ass.

toji’s still very sensitive from before, but with the way you’re moving and how good your ass throws itself around him, he knew he was about to get ten times more sensitive. he just knew you were gonna milk him, ring him draw. fuck, the thought of being drained by your sweet cunt left a bittersweet taste in his mouth. not only that, but toji felt himself salivating the more he imagined himself finishing because of you.

he lowly grunts, munching down on his lip as the core muscles in his washboard abs tighten and flex underneath his tank top. your cunt constricts around his shaft every single time—ravaging your swollen needy walls became something he never wanted to stop doing.

you were so warm, his cock reached very specific areas that made you whimper out his name over and over on repeat as if it was some sort of exaggerated mantra.

“tojiiiii,” you whine, feelings of lust foiling at your brain. with the constant tingling sensations of his dick stretching through you—you gasp everytime, hearing the lewd shakiness linger underneath your voice. “fuck, ‘m gonna cum too.”

“c- cum with me, pretty girl,” he pants, clammy hands of his pawing at your waist.

your body and the way it moved against him in such maddened rhythm had him entirely dumbfounded. his brows arch as he leans back, adam’s apple still bobbing all in his throat. toji’s cock continues to jut his dick way into your drooling pussy before you let off a looooong three second mewl full of concluding elation.

it lasts a long time, the feeling you felt as you’re losing yourself on your roommate’s lap—yet this time, your eyes widen once your thighs clench together before collapsing.

you’re dexterously sucking him in well before your climax comes again—but as you’re trying to focus on your breathing, you feel yourself spraying all over his weighty cock. sappy sweet juices pour down his base as your mouth cutely forms into a circular shape of surprise.

“ffuckk,” you curse, your voice pitching as you pulse all around him. your chaste clit swerves against him as you’re finally coming undone. it’s so much, you left a pool of a mess right on his lap and he was just luxuriating in your sweet filth.

but before toji cums, his bottom lip quivers—beads of perspiration sliding down the sides of his face. “can i- can i finish inside?”

with a numb cock-drunken expression, you give him a nod. “y- yeah, go ahead,” and you look into his eyes, whispering into his ear. “c’mon toji, ‘s okay. give it to me. you can make a mess in me too.”

toji hoarsely groans at your words, holding onto you tight. “fuck, keep talkin’ to me,” he makes you bounce harder on his cock, his muscles clenching at such sensations. “think ‘m gonna cum jus from your words, princess.”

“good boy. f- fuck, toji cum in me,” you teasingly lick near his earlobe.

he grunts at your playfulness—his cock reaching its very limit. he’s so full, his jaw feels heavy before you kiss his cheek. “wan’ you to cum in me. don’t miss, baby. that’s it, h- hold my hips like that, mhm.”

toji holds back a whine as you’re preparing to milk him for all he’s got—he hiccups briefly before it spurts out all at once. it’s much more intense from before. as if on que, toji finished a few seconds later. but once he finishes again, this time it’s not as quick as last time.

he shoots into you raw and it’s literally as if his life changed right before his eyes.

toji’s feeling your hips momentarily swerve and stutter in swift arcs before he’s dumping such a sloppy goopy load into your pussy. slimy stringy ropes trickle into you all at once, shooting right into your empty womb. it’s so much of a load that some of it spills past your saturated folds and down his base.

“s- shit,” he looks down, glancing down at his bushy happy trail through his low hazed peripherals. you’re running a finger down the thin stretchy fabric of his tank top as you ride him, toying at his curly minuscule hairs with your fingertips.

toji came a lot. saying he came a lot was a understatement, he came a ton. such ropes oozed out of you and it was such a pretty sight. for sure—it a lot more than last time, it spills so much that it creates a creamy milky ring around his base. with the both of you now cumming in torrent, you can feel him shaking violently underneath you. the warmth of your walls was something he never knew he needed more.

toji’s mouth grows dry as he reclines back against the sofa. the movie was well over, black credits of dozens of random names blurred on the screen and all.

you both grow quiet. your head presses against his chest— feeling a few strands of chest hair tickle against your cheek. his heart was racing, and it was all because of you.

you didn’t want to move, he didn’t want to move, because then his cum would leak out of you. toji liked the feeling of having you plugged full, your thighs—specially near the crevices and insides were all sticky and wholly coated with his velvety hot spurts of cum.

“f- fuck,” you murmur in an almost whisper, feeling one of his hands slide back toward your ass. toji’s matching your irregular heaving pants before he feels you trying to get up. “toji, let’s—”

“stay,” he cuts you off, and he’s got the most neediest expression. his voice was whiny, he swallows—more breathy pants leaving from him before he buries his face in your chest. verdant droopy eyes give you a long stare before he hugs you, strong broad arms wrapping around you. “i- i want more,” he shivers in your embrace.

you sit up and you thought he was leaning in for a kiss—but instead, he licks your bottom lip. “i don’t wanna jus get high with you anymore, i just want you. i fuckin’ need you, girl,” and you can almost see hearts in his eyes. yeah, he was whipped.

toji cups your face, his voice shaky and he brings your hand up to his lips, kissing the back of your palm.

“please. one more round, baby. i love-” and he cuts himself off, his eyes widening before he backtracks, his pout growing. “i need you.”

[princessbellecerise]

Unlikely Places

Summary ✩ The unusual place your hotd lover likes to fuck you

Warnings ✩ Smut, straight up blasphemy (Aegon), semi-public sex

Jacaerys Velaryon

As the King, it’s not exactly wrong for the two of you to do it, but it does feel taboo every time you ride him on the Iron Throne

Every time you climbed on his lap, mindful of all the sharp points and swords, you couldn’t help but think that you’re breaking some kind of rule that doesn’t exist. After all, Jacaerys is the King and technically it is his seat. As the most powerful man in the realm, there’s no one for you to answer to after doing such an act but it certainly feels like you should

The first time that he asked you to do it, you thought that he was crazy. It was so unlike Jacaerys to do something so…risky, that you genuinely thought it was a prank at first

Only when realized you that your husband was completely serious did you really start to consider it

And you had to admit, the rush of power that you got as you bounced on your husband’s cock, riding the most powerful man in the most powerful seat in the realm was nothing like you’d ever experienced before

It quickly became your guilty pleasure to do so, never minding when Jacaerys summoned you to the throne room at such late hours

For you knew what awaited you when you climbed those steps, and each time you were filled with delicious anticipation to do it all over again

Aemond Targaryen

Ever since he was a child, Aemond had been absolutely fascinated by dragons

His obsession with those beasts was almost unnatural as his mother used to say, and you were quite inclined to agree as one day, Aemond tried to convince you to let him fuck you on top of Vhagar

Of course, the request had been so ridiculous that you genuinely thought your husband to be ill at first, maybe having contracted some disease during his many travels

Only when you saw Aemond’s confident smirk did you realize that it was indeed not a jest, and your husband really did want you to ride him on top of a fucking dragon

So there you were, thousands of feet in the air and praying that you didn’t fall as you straddled Aemond’s lap

You held onto him tight as your cunt sank down, your hips moving with his in the large saddle

Every kiss, every touch was concealed within the clouds, Vhagar flying steady while you rode your husband. The sound of her wings masked the pathetic way you cried for Aemond, filthy praises and words of encouragement being whispered in your ears as you soared across the skies

Aegon Targaryen

Aegon figures that if he’s going to hell anyways, he may as well have a little fun in his mortal life

What’s life without a little risk anyways, he figures. This is why he has no problem fucking you in the Sept of Seven, having you on your knees, naked in front of the statue of the Mother

Instead of praying to her though, you worship him. You praise his cock and the way it makes you feel so good—better than praying, really

The absolute trill of someone coming in and getting caught is like no other. Sometimes, Aegon even hopes that you’ll be discovered—preferably by his mother or that cunt of Septa that’s always preaching about sin and virtue

He imagines their faces as he fucks you from behind, taunting you and making you look directly at the statue when you cum around him

Aegon’s never really believed in the Gods much, but the way your cunt feels wrapped around him is heavenly

And to him, there’s truly no greater tasting sin

Daemon Targaryen

Otto Hightower had once called Daemon brazen, irresponsible, violent, arrogant, reckless and a second Maegor

He supposed that it was true, but still, Otto Hightower was a cunt in Daemon’s mind, and the Prince would do anything to get back at him

…Including fucking in his bed

In Daemon’s very weak defense, he hasn’t meant to, really

When he pulled you in a for a kiss, intending to take you quickly before he had to attend a meeting later in the day, he hadn’t been paying attention to where he pulled you

He just wanted to feel you, to touch you before he had to leave for the day

And what do you know—the place that he ends up brining you to fufill your hurried tryst was the fucking Tower of the Hand

Neither of you realize it at first, too caught up in each other to notice the amount of green, grey and white around you

It isn’t until you stumble onto the actual bed, Daemon fumbling to get your clothing off do you finally look up and you’re greeted by a portrait of Otto fucking Hightower on the walls

Alarmed, you immediately tell Daemon and it takes only a second to realize where you’ve accidentally stumbled

Of course, Daemon thinks it’s hilarious and even if you want to leave, a little creeped out at the thought of being fucked on the same sheets the Hand of the King sleeps on, Daemon is entirely too thrilled to leave

Once the idea is in his brain, it won’t be going any time soon

A mischievous grin grows on your lover’s face, and somehow, Dameon convinces you to let him take on Otto’s clean, perfectly folded sheets, loving the way you mess them up with your messy fucking

Of course, he’ll just blame the servants for all the mess, but now every time he faces Otto there’s always a knowing smirk on Daemon’s face, smug that the Hand will never know the dirty things said and done on the very mattress he sleeps on

Cregan Stark

Cregan was the Lord of Winterfell, and because of that he was allowed to eat where he pleased, train where he pleased…and fuck where he pleased

It was this that he reminded you of as he took you in one of the hot springs the castle had to offer, water splashing as your husband’s hips thrust into yours

He had you on his lap, your tits pressed against his warm wet chest as you bounced on his cock

The both of you were well aware that this was a public place and that anyone could stumble upon you, but that only spurred you on more

Honestly, seeing your honorable and kind husband act so reckless was a turn on in itself, loving the way Cregan grunted and didn’t care who heard him

He was lost in the feel of your cunt and the warm water which only added to the sensations

Add that to the trill of getting caught, and neither of you really lasted long when you fucked in the springs

Still panting and filled with your husband’s seed, you grinned as you ran a hand through his tangled hair

“Another day without being caught,” You said, slightly disappointed

Cregan shrugged. “Well, maybe we’ll succeed next time.”

Benjicot Blackwood

“Ben, not here! Someone could see us!”

“Then let them see. Let those Bracken cunts see how a real man pleases his Lady wife,” Benji whispered, and you couldn’t even deny that fucking right on the Blackwood-Bracken boundary line didn’t bring a kind of fire to your veins that you craved

Your lover had always been more shy and sweet than anything else, but you knew just how deep his hatred for the Brackens ran when he threw all of that away and fucked you so close to their territory

Deep, satisfactory moans left his lips as he rutted into you, the thrill of getting caught edging you both on like no other

You pressed against Benji, panting as his cock drove in out of you and hit your sweet spots over and over

All you could think about, all you craved was cumming around your husband’s cock while his enemies watched; and you did

Benji was beyond proud of himself as you moaned and let the entirety of House Bracken know what was happening. Let them know how good he was making you feel

He felt bad for the wives of those smug cunts as surely they’d never know such pleasure, but at least Benji knew that you couldn’t relate

The Brackens could say whatever they wanted about his family, but at least the Blackwoods knew how to fuck

And who knows, if they were watching, then maybe they’d even learn a thing or two from Benji

tags 🏷️

@alyssa-dayne