#so this was my first time seeing this today too

[bessa-ta]

Bubbles and You

bf!Viktor (arcane) x reader

Summary - You decide to help Viktor relax from his stressful work at the lab with a warm bath, which leads to you two becoming intimate :)

Genre - smut, fluff, intimate, shower sex

Warnings - mdni!, unprotected sex, cockwarming. I have no idea if i should add anything else. Let me know if so.

Attention: Bessa's first post! + I'm not really fluent in english, if there are typos and mistakes just close your eyes ❤️

Midnight. Another day in which you patiently wait for your Viktor to come back home from the lab. But tonight you had something in mind - a way to spend some relaxing time together when he arrives.

It's been like that for the past 2-ish weeks where Viktor comes home really late at night, and it would be a lie if you said that you weren't pissed off by now with this routine. Spending your nights alone until late in the shared bed of your shared little cozy house, missing the presence of your loved one, isn't something that you or anyone else would wish for but sadly it's what you are put to deal with.

For the short time Viktor returns back home to have a meal, take a quick shower, and finally get some sleep for a few hours, you can see the stress he is put into. You knew he had a hard time with the new device he is working on, so you could never be mad at him. You are not this type of person, you respect his hard work and ambitions even if the lack of attention to you hurt you.

Today you had something in mind though - helping him relax with a warm bath together.

Time - 12:41AM. Viktor is finally on the front door, removing his shoes. You go running to him, giving him a tight hug and a peck on the lips.

"You are finally here." you say with a smile. He smiles back at you as he closes and locks the door behind him.

The night passed as usual until Viktor made his way to the bathroom for a quick shower. You followed him there, starting to undress with him. He paused for a bit, processing your actions.

"Y/n what are you.. doing, my love?" he asked with confusion since you two have never showered nor bathed together. Why were you undressing together with him in the bathroom was a big mystery he couldn't solve right now, woah.

"Will take a bath, with you." a simple reply you striked him with, which made him look at you with wide open eyes. It's not like you haven't seen each other naked before. Oh, you did (even did the freaky, not once). But having such an intimate moment together as bathing? Haven't done it.

"Stop staring.. undress finally." you say as you were fully undressed now, but Viktor stayed as if he was frozen in time.

"Is there something wrong? You don't want to?"

"N-no, no, no, I'm undressing! Done!" and for a second he got completely naked too.

Man's heart beats fast like a rabit's. He got so excited but also shocked about the idea of bathing with you that at this point, he just waited for your commands of what to do.

You filled the bathtub with warm water, added the bubbles, and together stepped inside, you helping him. He hates bathtubs, and he never bathes because of his leg. He would difficultly step in and out of one, but with you beside him to help, it was alright.

You two sat comfortably there. Your back pressed against his chest, warm water with bubbles touching your bodies in the dark bathroom where you put a few candles to make the atmosphere more romantic. Your hand was drawing circles on Viktor's (good leg) thigh and he rested his head on your shoulder.

"I really enjoy this. Thank you..." he said quietly and leaned to leave a kiss on your shoulder. One, two, three more, and he went up kissing your neck, slowly and softly.

"You work really hard... I want to help you relax." you said and turned around to face him.

"You do it everyday already." His eyes sparkled from the light of the candles. He looked at you with a sotf smile on his face. "After all the hours in the lab, coming home to you always gives me peace. Sleeping in your arms makes me think about nothing but feel your warmth and care. I love this." he took your hand in his and raised it to his lips, giving it a kiss. "I love you." he looked into your eyes again and pulled you into his lap.

You rested your hands on his shoulders while his rested on your waist, holding you there and kissed you softly. You kissed back, leaning in more into the kiss that your chest pressed against his now. The kiss grew hungrier, leaving you and Viktor breathless. He pulled away just to move down to your neck, leaving wet kisses and bites, marking you as his. You moaned and grabbed his hair, pulling it not to harshly. This made him suck on your neck harder, forming red to purple marks everywhere around it, down to your collarbones.

One of his hands reached up to grab your breast. He squeezed and played with it as his other hand still held you by the waist. Since you were sitting in his lap, you could feel his bare hardness against you. You felt so hot and worked up already that all you wanted was to take him in.

You raised yourself slightly on your knees, which surrounded him, and grabbed his shaft so you could position it on your entrance.

"Wait babe, a condom?" he stopped kising your chest to mention the miss of protection you needed to continue.

"Not this time." you were needy and couldn't wait any longer, he waited in front of your entrance damn it.

"Are you sur-" he couldn't finish his question because you were already positioning yourself down on him slowly, taking his length just perfectly. He moaned and rolled his eyes back to the sensation, grabbing your waist with both his hands and hips slightly bucking up to feel more you. Oh, you felt so heavenly, all wet and warm, just for him. He got dizzy, and he could see stars.

You started to move up and down, your hands still on his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you felt him deep inside you. Viktor being a whimpering mess beneath you, moving his hips up because he wanted to cum so bad after not doing so for days.

You continued riding him but increasing your spreed by a little. The water in the bathtub moving restlessly with your rhythm.

Viktor could feel his climax approach, making him try to rut up into you desperately. You can feel your own approach too, so you didn't stop nor slow down your moves. Thankfully, the water surrounding you helped you not feel as tired as you would feel by now.

Viktor buried his face into your neck as his orgasm was about to hit. "Close.. so close, don't stop." he murmured breathlessly but a few seconds later now he was milking your insides. Hot seed filling you up, which triggers your orgasm too, and you two come together in sync.

You still feel him twitch inside you, and you lean to give him another sweet, tired kiss. "So good..." you whisper in between and pull away to rest your head on his shoulder.

Viktor hugged you tightly as you were still there with him buried inside you, kissing the top of your head. "That was so good, love, I agree." he smiled and closed his eyes. The water in the tub calming its movement too. You two could really relax now in each others embrace.

Hello guysss hope you liked some of my brainrot writings. It's the first one i ever post so please support me for more. If this one gets some positive attention i might post another one very soon. Feel free to request too! I'm open to write about your ideas too :)

Like and Follow me yeah 😎

[rmview]

they want you back, ENHYPEN.

featuring — enhypen members x gn!reader ( masterlist )

summary — a reaction of what happens when the enhypen boys realize they still have feelings for you after they broke up with you! ( can be read as part 2 of this )

contents — mentions of past relationships, hurt and comfort.

hee ⊹ seung

heeseung never took relationships lightly. when he ended things with you, it wasn’t because he didn’t care. it was because he thought he owed it to himself — and to you — to confront lingering feelings for his ex. he hated hurting you, but he convinced himself it was the right decision.

months passed, and the closure he sought didn’t come. instead, it became painfully clear that his feelings for his ex had long since faded. what lingered was his guilt for breaking your heart and the empty ache of missing you.

one evening, heeseung found himself scrolling through old photos on his phone. there you were, smiling at him in that way that made everything feel lighter. his heart clenched as he realized he hadn’t smiled like that in months. without thinking, he typed a message hoping you hadn’t blocked him: “can we talk? i know i don’t deserve it, but i need to apologize.”

surprisingly, your text came a day later in agreement and heeseung spent the entire week rehearsing what he’d say when he’d see you. sitting across from you at a quiet café, he felt uncharacteristically nervous. “i’ve been a coward,” he admitted, his voice low. “i thought ending things was the right choice, but all i’ve done is regret it.”

he paused, his hands clasped tightly. “i know i hurt you, and i can’t undo that. but i need you to know… it wasn’t because i didn’t care. it’s because i was scared. scared of how much i feel for you. i’m not sure if it’s love yet, but i realize you’re someone i can be happy with. and i want that with you.”

he didn’t ask you to forgive him right away. instead, he let his actions speak. over the weeks that followed, heeseung found small ways to show you his sincerity: sending you messages that reminded him of you, leaving handwritten notes on your doorstep, and being there when you needed support.

“i’ll do whatever it takes,” he told you one evening, his gaze steady. “even if it takes years, i’ll prove to you that you’re the only one i want.”

jay ⊹

jay was confident in many things, but when it came to his feelings, he was often harder on himself than necessary. breaking up with you had been his attempt at doing the “right thing.” he thought unresolved feelings for his ex were unfair to you, and he didn’t want to risk holding you back. but what he hadn’t anticipated was how much your absence would affect him.

the realization came slowly at first — a quiet longing when he saw something that reminded him of you. then, one night, it hit him like a wave. he was sitting alone, scrolling through a playlist you’d made together. as the songs played, memories of your time together flooded back, each one sharper than the last. he felt so stupid realizing he wasted moments with someone like you over brooding feelings.

“i was an idiot,” jay muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair. picking up his phone, he typed out a message: “i know i don’t deserve your time, but please, can we talk?”

your reply back was late, but a godsend, and meeting you again felt like a second chance he didn’t deserve. “i’ve spent months trying to figure out what went wrong,” he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “and the answer was staring me in the face the whole time. it wasn’t my ex. it wasn’t anyone else. it was me… being too blind to see what i had right in front of me.”

jay wasn’t one for empty promises. over the following weeks, he showed you his sincerity through thoughtful gestures — sending flowers with notes that said, “thinking of you today,” or surprising you with small things he remembered you loved. “i don’t want to rush you,” he told you one day. “but i’ll wait as long as it takes for you to trust me again.”

jake ⊹

jake believed in following his heart, but breaking up with you had been the hardest decision he’d ever made. he thought he needed to confront lingering feelings for his ex before moving forward, but as time passed, it became glaringly obvious: it wasn’t his ex he missed. it was you.

one evening, jake found himself at a bookstore you’d both loved. his fingers brushed over the spine of a book you’d recommended, and the memory of your excited voice came rushing back. his chest tightened as he realized how much he’d taken you for granted. he found himself staring at the book for a few moments in silent contemplation. what was wrong with him?

without overthinking, jake dialed your number, his gaze never leaving the book. “hey,” he said, when you answered after a few rings, his voice shaky. “can we meet? there’s something i need to tell you.”

when you agreed, jake felt equal parts relief and anxiety. seeing you again, his usual bright demeanor dimmed. “i was wrong,” he admitted, his voice raw with emotion. “i thought i needed closure, but the truth is… i really needed you.”

jake poured his heart out, apologizing for the hurt he’d caused and promising to make things right. over the weeks that followed, he was relentless in his efforts to show you he’d changed. he left little notes on your doorstep, sent you your favorite snacks, and even wrote you a heartfelt letter.

“i know i don’t deserve another chance,” he told you one day. “but i’m asking for one anyway. because i truly can’t imagine my life without you. i know i hurt you once, but i promise to never make you feel that way again.”

sung ⊹ hoon

sunghoon always carried himself with an air of calm and composure, but breaking up with you had shattered that facade. he’d convinced himself that lingering feelings for his ex meant he wasn’t being fair to you. however, as days turned into weeks, he realized he had made a terrible mistake.

the memory of your shared moments haunted him — your laughter, your quirks, the way you made him feel understood in ways no one else could. he found himself going through old photos and videos that you’d take on dates and send him, his heart aching with each one he swiped through.

one day, as he passed the skating rink where you’d gone on one of your first dates, and the sight of all the sweet couples skating around only deepened the void in his chest. he couldn’t hold back anymore. sunghoon sent you a message, simple but heartfelt: “can we meet? there’s something i need to say.”

meeting you at a quiet café the next day, sunghoon struggled to find the words. he sat across from you, his fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of his jacket. “i thought i was doing the right thing,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “i thought i needed to sort out my feelings… but all i’ve done is realize how much i missed you.”

he looked into your eyes, the vulnerability in his gaze striking. “i was scared. scared that i wasn’t enough for you. but losing you made me see that you’re the one i can’t live without.”

over the next few weeks, sunghoon showed his sincerity in quiet but meaningful ways. he’d leave handwritten letters in your mailbox, recounting the things he loved about you. he even invited you to one of his skating practices, a place he rarely shared with anyone, just to let you see a deeper part of him.

“i know i messed up,” he said one evening, his voice steady but emotional. “but if there’s even a small part of you that can forgive me, i’ll spend every day proving myself to you.”

su ⊹ noo

sunoo had always been emotionally intelligent, but even he wasn’t immune to making mistakes. breaking up with you had been an impulsive decision, driven by his insecurities. he thought he needed closure with his ex, but the moment he walked away from you, regret began to creep in.

the realization hit him fully one day as he scrolled through his phone, stumbling across a picture of the two of you. in it, you were laughing at one of his jokes, your face lit up with pure joy. his heart sank. it wasn’t just the memories he missed — it was the warmth you brought into his life.

unable to hold back after days of contemplation, sunoo sent you a text: “i know i hurt you, but can we talk? i need to explain.”

when you agreed, sunoo met you at a park you both used to visit. his usual bright energy was subdued, replaced by a nervous vulnerability. “i don’t even know where to start,” he admitted, his voice soft. “i thought i was doing the right thing by letting you go, but all i did was hurt the person i care about most.”

he paused, his eyes welling with tears. “i thought i needed to figure out my past, but i realized my future… it’s you.”

sunoo made it his mission to win back your trust. he’d send you thoughtful messages, reminding you of the little things you loved. he’d surprise you with your favorite snacks or leave flowers at your door with notes that read, “you deserve the world, and i want to be the one to give it to you.”

“i know it’ll take time,” he told you one evening, his voice earnest. “but i’m not going anywhere. i’ll wait for as long as it takes.”

jung ⊹ won

jungwon had always been the steady, thoughtful type. but even the most composed individuals could falter under pressure. breaking up with you was a decision he thought through meticulously, convinced it was the right thing to do. he believed he needed clarity about his lingering feelings for his ex before moving forward with you.

at first, he tried to rationalize his decision, telling himself it was for the best. but the emptiness that settled in his heart told a different story. every day without you felt heavier, and the clarity he sought didn’t come. instead, it was replaced by the aching realization that you were the one he truly loved.

one quiet evening, jungwon sat in his room, staring at a picture of you both on his desk. the memory of your laughter, the way your presence brought him comfort, and the love he’d seen in your eyes haunted him. he couldn’t keep pretending.

gathering his courage, jungwon called you. his voice was steady but tinged with vulnerability. “hey… i know i’m the last person you want to hear from, but could we meet? i need to talk to you.”

when you agreed, jungwon met you at a park you used to frequent. he was quiet at first, gathering his thoughts as he looked at you, guilt and longing etched into his expression. “i don’t know how to start,” he admitted softly. “i thought i was doing the right thing by letting you go. i thought i needed to figure things out… but i was wrong.”

his gaze met yours, steady despite the turmoil in his heart. “i hurt you, and i’ll regret that for the rest of my life. but i need you to know… my heart was never confused. it’s always been you.”

jungwon didn’t rush you for forgiveness. instead, he let his actions show how much he cared. over the weeks, he’d leave thoughtful messages, remembering little details about your day or sending you your favorite snacks.

he’d show up when you least expected it — not to push but simply to remind you he was there. “you deserve someone who shows you how much they care. and i want to be that person again… if you’ll let me.”

ni ⊹ ki

ni-ki had always been the youngest, but he prided himself on being mature for his age. however, when it came to relationships, he still had room to grow. breaking up with you had been his attempt at handling his feelings responsibly, but instead, it left him feeling empty and directionless.

at first, ni-ki tried to convince himself that he’d made the right choice. but the more time passed, the more he realized how much he missed you. little things — your laughter, the way you supported his dreams, the comfort of your presence — kept replaying in his mind.

one evening, ni-ki sat in his practice room, staring at his phone. his fingers hovered over the screen before he finally typed out a message: “can we meet? i need to tell you something important.”

when you agreed, ni-ki met you at a quiet spot near the dance studio. he looked nervous but determined. “i messed up,” he began, his voice low. “i thought breaking up was the right thing to do… but it wasn’t. it was the worst mistake i’ve ever made.”

he looked at you, his eyes earnest. “i thought i needed to figure out my feelings, but the truth is, i was scared. scared of how much i care about you. but now i know… you’re the one i want.”

ni-ki’s efforts to win you back were both heartfelt and creative. he’d dedicate his dance routines to you, recording them and sending you clips with messages like, “this is for you. always for you.” he’d leave small gifts with notes that said, “i’m sorry. let me make it right.”

“i’m young, and i’ve made mistakes,” he admitted one evening, his voice steady. “but i’m learning, and one thing i know for sure is that i don’t want to lose you again.”

notes: thank you for requesting! i guess i’ve been traumatizing yall with too much angst xp fluff coming soon!

[rhenysz]

Your Dead Eyes - Chapter 3

Summary: Lifeless eyes were what haunted your all life, manu people say that death was lurking around your eyes, Maybe it's true. Maybe you just see things that other people don't.

Pairing: Azriel x Archeron! reader fem.

A/n: I... Well, hello. So, Merry Christmas? I didn't fix this properly...

*English is NOT my native language, this fanfic was translated with a little help from a A.i. So, let me know if there are any grammatical errors*

Word count: 3k

Warnings: None that I can remember, some humor, tension , Azriel being a dumb mother hen

previous x next

Cassian, Azriel, and Rhysand had already left when you came downstairs for breakfast. Nesta grumbled that they hadn't even eaten before spreading their wings to the sky, making everything around them flutter – including the newly planted rose saplings of Elain, to her great displeasure.

Feyre often returned home in hopes that the queens had already responded. The delay was noticeable given how long ago the letter had been sent, and it was a shot in the dark trying to guess what might have happened, though you doubted the letter had gotten lost in transit, and, mind you, you weren't foolish enough to think it was their indecision.

They were making the High Lord wait for pure amusement, and maybe a little bit of sadism. The human queens were in control of the situation, and that made everything even more delicious. A power struggle where, for the first time, the weaker ones were in charge. It must have been painful to even consider discarding this succulent opportunity that had been handed to them on a golden platter—one in a million, truly.

Bringing the steaming cup of tea to your lips, you sipped cautiously to avoid burning yourself; there was no pain worse than burning your tongue – well, maybe stubbing your toe, you mused with a hum. A gust of wind passed through your hair, signaling that someone was passing by in a hurry.

“Don’t run around the house, Elain,” Nesta grumbled from her spot at the table, clearly not a morning person. Your second eldest sister slipped on the floor and turned back to stop by your side, placing one of her delicate hands on your shoulder to alert you of her presence.

Taking a deep breath, Elain spoke breathlessly, “A new batch of letters is arriving today!”

Now, this was interesting. You placed your hand on hers, squeezing her hand on your shoulder, turning your head slightly to show your interest in the topic. Not because of the letters, obviously.

“Why don’t you come with me, sister? We can stop by that little craft shop too,” Elain suggested. She certainly knew how to brighten your day, and even though you were avoiding crowds, especially those zealots who called themselves the enlightened ones – and that made your skin crawl – it was hard to resist the opportunity to get out of the house. God knows this place could be suffocating.

Nesta was irritated with anyone who breathed in her direction, Elain would shudder at the mere mention of meetings and queens, and you missed Merina and her pies. No matter how hard you tried, it was difficult to connect with your sisters as well as with Feyre, who no longer lived a human life filled with nuances like yours.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed yourself off the chair and blindly grabbed your beautiful cane, intending to head for the door alone, but Elain was quicker and grabbed your wrist, guiding you somewhat hurriedly toward the exit without saying goodbye to a very grumpy Nesta.

The morning wind hit your face as you crossed the threshold, and the birds’ song pierced your ears like a sweet melody. However, as beautiful as it was, your brow furrowed at the hurry in your sister's movements. Surely, the letters couldn’t be that interesting, not to Elain, at least. She could barely stand still when the topic was on the table. Ah, the gossip you'd have today, sweet sister.

“Is there anything else you want from the city besides the letters?” Your tone was dismissive, but even the dullest of men would see the curiosity behind the question.

Elain tripped over something on the ground and almost pulled you down with her, making you question who the blind sister really was here.

She cleared her throat and finally slowed her pace. The hesitation was palpable, and the arm linked to yours grew tense as she nervously began fiddling with the sleeve of her dress.

“I... I was thinking about looking at some prettier engagement rings, maybe gold...” It came out like a croak, and that left you a little more confused. There was no doubt that Elain had good taste and could spot something beautiful from afar, so it was strange that she wanted to see new rings when she loved hers so much.

“I thought you were crazy about that one,” the sounds of people talking grew louder, and your nose wrinkled from the variety of smells; sweets, savory foods, pig dung, and, beneath it all, the fresh scent of pine and whiskey filled your lungs with a warm, inviting sensation.

“Steel” and “Feyre” and “shame” were the only words you managed to catch through the intoxicating fog of the delicious perfume you inhaled. But that was enough for no question to leave your lips.

Turning your focus back to the surroundings as your sister and cane guided you through the streets, bodies occasionally brushed past you, nearly knocking you down; shouts proclaiming devotion to the divine; more frantic cries from merchants trying to sell their goods to eat at the end of the day, and other sounds that were impossible to decipher.

As you walked, Elain stopped abruptly in her tracks. Confused, you turned your head to look at her but got no answer. Without saying a word, your sister started walking again, leaving the noise of the city behind. You quickened your steps to keep up with her, the wind certainly making your hair a tangled mess. At least you wouldn’t have to see it.

Elain slid a bit in the mud, and with a squeak, you stopped by her side. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and her lungs struggled to keep up with her breathing. Gods, your sister was trying to kill you just so she wouldn’t have to share the inheritance.

“What in the hell-” you began but didn’t finish. The breeze had risen up your legs, making the hem of your dress flutter and leaving a coolness on your skin, only to disappear faster than it came.

“Azriel?” Azriel? He was the cause of your little sprint? Damn him, what was he doing in such an obvious place?

“Elain,” he greeted your sister, and as he turned to you, he spoke your name in a deep purr, sending a chill down your spine with the tone. You nodded in acknowledgment; your voice no longer belonged to you. “The letter. It’s here.”

Ah, he knew. He already knew the queens' letter had arrived today. How? You didn’t know.

“We were going to see it now,” Elain’s voice was syrupy, soft and sweet, almost like she didn’t know how to speak anymore.

A hum left Azriel’s throat. His trained eyes watched your shy form beside Elain, the corners of his lips tugged upwards but quickly disappeared as he turned his attention back to the eldest Archeron sister.

“Could you fetch it for me, Elain?” Azriel asked gently, and your sister nodded quickly, like a soldier. Not letting go of your hand, she motioned for you to go with her to fetch the letter. “Only you, please.”

Your feet stayed firmly planted, and now the air felt thin. Whatever the Shadowsinger had to say to you was making your nerves bubble.

Elain muttered in discomfort, clearly not wanting to leave you alone with someone she barely knew. Her hand squeezed yours lightly, and you pulled your hand free from her grip, distancing yourself from your sister. With your body facing the man, you encouraged Elain to go. He certainly wouldn’t kill you.

Still, your treacherous mind whispered.

With lips set in a line, Elain quickly made her way to her destination, disappearing into the crowd. The faster she went, the faster she’d be back.

Without your sister nearby, the silence was deafening and uncomfortable, and despite your brief interaction with Azriel, you still found the way his presence surrounded you intimidating.

“Do you have something to say? Or did you just make me stay here for your company?” The words came out sharper than you intended, and perhaps challenging such a powerful fae like him in broad daylight wasn’t the best idea. Shifting your weight, you crossed your arms like a shield. Not that you expected it to stop him.

Your ears perked up when you heard a rough chuckle leave Azriel. His lips pressed together; it wasn’t the response you were expecting.

“I didn’t,” he paused and licked his lips, thinking carefully about his next words. “But I feel like I do now.”

Ah, so much for being mysterious. If this non-human man wanted to make you squirm with anxiety, he was succeeding beautifully.

“And…” your voice carried impatience.

“And I don’t think you should be part of the meeting with the queens.”

Your mind stopped. It felt completely empty, focused only on trying to process Azriel’s words. Letting your arms fall to your sides, you lifted your chin, hoping you were looking at his face as you spoke. “Why? Is there a reason for this?

Simple and shyer than you intended.

Azriel was no longer amused. His face darkened into a scowl as he studied you from your structure to your features – sculpted nose, mouth pulled down, and then, eyes. His eyes were windows to his soul, so sweet that, even if not fully functional, could bring legions to their knees.

And that was the problem.

“The queens aren’t trustworthy, and I don’t want you to be a target. They’re bitter and vile with people…” His words rushed out, his wings tightening behind him, letting the weight of what he had to say burn his tongue. “...weaker ones.”

You bit your cheek until you tasted the faint copper of your blood. Indignation wasn’t the right word to describe what you were feeling, but the disbelief on your flushed face certainly expressed it.

Fragile. The Illyrian who barely knew you for more than a week was insulting you so openly, without a shred of shame. You might not see things like other people, but this made you grow a pair of balls like nothing else, and it wasn’t this male who was going to put you down now.

With clenched fists, you took a step toward him, closing the distance to a breath’s length. The smell of whiskey that had been so enticing returned, but now that you knew who it belonged to, it didn’t seem so intoxicating. Or maybe it was, a little, your mind whispered.

“I don’t think I gave you any right to make assumptions about me, fairy.” You spat the words, especially the scornful nickname you secretly used for him and his brothers.

Azriel growled low, and ah, it wasn’t because of your words.

The rustling of leaves made you step back from the winged male, and quickly, his features softened. Elain stopped next to you, breathless, handing the letter to Azriel, as if it were burning her.

“Here, it arrived last night,” she said before taking your arm and walking away as quickly as possible.

“Thank you,” Azriel acknowledged with a nod. Elain smiled tightly, already guiding you away. His voice came again, but this time as a warning, making your shoulders tense. “Don’t forget what I said.” And then he was gone, swallowed by his shadows as if he had never been there.

Elain furrowed her brow and turned to you, questioning what Azriel had meant.

“Nothing, he didn’t say anything.” Nothing you cared about, at least.

“Hold your breath,” Nesta reprimanded you, her fingers pulling tighter on your corset strings, her delicate fingers and the crushing leather threatening to break your ribs.

“Tighten it any more, and watch me turn purple on this floor, sister.” You gasped out the words with difficulty. Nesta clearly wanted to kill you. You knew she was against you exposing yourself at the meeting, but you never thought she'd deliberately try to kill you.

“Stop whining, it's ready.” Nesta grumbled, and then her presence pulled away from you, her footsteps echoing as she walked to the vanity in front of you. Your head tilted to the side at the sound of objects clinking. She was making a mess, no doubt.

Nesta's heat returned as she stopped in front of you. Her warm hand held your chin firmly but gently, and the bristles of a brush tickled your lips. It was soft, sticky, with a faint scent of roses. Lipstick.

Nesta was dressing you up like a doll. Your chest warmed at the feeling. Having your sister care for and pamper you like this was a delight. It was fleeting, but so appreciated when it happened.

Pulling the brush from your lips, Nesta glanced at you. Long, trembling lashes, cheeks rosy with powder, angelic features. You were beautiful. A slight tug appeared on her lips, satisfied with her work.

“If you keep staring at me, I’m going to start thinking you like me.” Your playful voice earned an eye roll from Nesta, who, with a huff, stepped away from you, already missing the warmth of her presence.

"Don't be fooled," Nesta retorted playfully, you expected it to be a joke as she took your arm in hers and began guiding you out of your room and into the living room. The shrill creak of the door alerted you that you were passing through the main hall, just a few steps away from the comfortable armchairs that Elain had arranged for you. "Sit down, they should be arriving soon."

Groping for the armchair, you slowly lowered yourself until you were seated. Your sister settled beside you, and barely half a second later, a knock echoed on the door. Nesta took a deep breath beside you, and abruptly stood up, walking toward the door. As much for a brief break, a laugh escaped you. Hopefully, she wouldn't hear it.

The sound of what seemed like a crowd of footsteps approached where you were, low, nervous murmurs could be heard, and a melodic voice, different from those you already knew, made your eyebrow raise in curiosity.

"Sister, you look beautiful," Feyre greeted you warmly, her hands on your shoulder for a hug. A little awkwardly, you stood to hug her better. Nestling your face into her neck, you squeezed her tighter. It felt like you hadn't seen her in a decade. The sound of someone clearing their throat made your sister pull away from the hug, to your disappointment. "Sorry. Mor, this is my younger sister."

Mor? Another fae? You turned to where you thought she was. Mor smiled and approached, taking your hand in hers. Her sudden action made you jump slightly.

"It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Feyre has told me so much about you." Her voice was gentle, her shoulders relaxed, and you let yourself return her smile. She seemed like a woman with a strong spirit. Perhaps Nesta could find a friend in her.

"I'm happy to meet another one of my sister’s friends." You greeted her properly with a nod.

"That's enough, Mor. You're suffocating her." A cold shiver ran down your spine when Azriel's rough voice reached you. The memory of your last encounter still vivid in your mind. Your face twisted into a grimace. Mor huffed and pulled away, muttering about how Azriel was a joy-killer. You could agree with that.

Feyre, beside you, looked at the two of you with suspicion. Since you entered, Azriel hadn't taken his eyes off you, following every movement like a hawk. Your reaction to him only seemed to intrigue her more. With a kiss on your forehead, she guided you to sit again.

It seemed everyone was settling into their places, Elain arriving elegantly late and sitting to your right, Nesta a little farther to your left. You couldn’t tell exactly where everyone else was, but someone was behind you. You could feel the warmth of their presence.

"Stubborn artisan." Damn fae.

Azriel teased you with the nickname. If you could give him nicknames, why not? He took a step closer, leaning against your chair, ignoring the sharp look you shot at him. He bent down slightly, just enough for you to hear, his velvety tone making your hairs stand on end.

"You seemed more inclined to listen that night." Your face heated with the memory. With a small grin, Azriel stood up and turned his gaze away, completely satisfied with himself.

Before you could think of a witty retort, a loud bang echoed through the house, making everyone tense. They’ve arrived. The human queens were finally here. It was time to begin the meeting that would put everything at stake.

TAGLIST: @dearestdaffodils @going-through-shit

@valeridarkness @wallacewillow0773638

@harrystylesfan2686 @carnationworld

@applerubyy @saltedcoffeescotch

@esposadomd @justdreamstars

@microwaveallthedemons @cherryinsalemverse

@stqrgirlies-blog @brujitafantomatico

@bionic-donut @kemillyfreitas

@judig92 @sassybluebird

@frietiemeloen @success78 @mariahoedt @macimads @prongslena @hnyclover @bravo-delta-eccho @cherryinsalemverse @weasleyreidstyles

*Please, if I tagged you wrong or you want to be removed from the taglist let me know!*

[aspenmissing]

ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢꜱ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀʟɪꜱ ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇʜᴏʟᴅ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ || ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ/ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ || 1097 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ɴᴏɴᴇ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀʟʟɪꜱ ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇʜᴏʟᴅ, ᴛʜᴇ Qᴜɪᴇᴛ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ꜰɪʟʟᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʟᴏᴠᴇ, ʟᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ, ᴀɴᴅ ʟɪɢʜᴛʜᴇᴀʀᴛᴇᴅ ʙᴀɴᴛᴇʀ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ, ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ. ᴀᴍɪᴅ ꜱʜᴀʀᴇᴅ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋꜰᴀꜱᴛ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴏꜱ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀʙ, ʏᴏᴜ ꜰɪɴᴅ ᴊᴏʏ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀʟᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛɪᴇꜱ.

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ

The gentle light of dawn filtered through the lace curtains of the Tallis household, casting a soft glow over the quiet rooms. Outside, the city of Piltover was just beginning to stir. Airships hummed faintly in the distance, and the occasional bark of a merchant announcing their wares carried through the streets. But inside the warm, comfortable home shared by Jayce, Viktor, and you, the world felt still and serene.

You were the first to wake—as always. The bed was a tangle of limbs and warmth, with Viktor tucked neatly at your side and Jayce sprawled across the rest of the mattress like a human starfish. It was a miracle Viktor managed to get any rest with Jayce’s restless movements, but he never complained. In fact, he often joked that the chaos kept him young.

Carefully, you wriggled out from under Viktor’s arm, doing your best not to disturb him. He made a soft noise of protest, his brow furrowing slightly before settling back into peaceful sleep. Jayce, on the other hand, remained oblivious, his snore rumbling low and steady. You smiled fondly at the sight of them, their contrasting personalities so evident even in sleep.

Padding into the kitchen, you set about your morning routine. The kettle was soon on the stove, its comforting whistle blending with the rhythmic ticking of the clock. The scent of fresh coffee beans filled the air as you ground them by hand, relishing the quiet moments before the house fully woke.

By the time you heard the familiar shuffle of Viktor’s cane in the hallway, the table was set with steaming mugs of coffee and a plate of buttered toast. You turned just in time to see him enter, his golden eyes still heavy with sleep and his unruly hair sticking up in every direction. He looked utterly endearing.

“Good morning, my love,” you greeted, pulling out a chair for him. “Did you sleep well?”

He gave a small nod, gently placing a kiss on my lips before lowering himself into the chair with a sigh. “Well enough,” he said, his voice still husky from sleep. “Though I suspect Jayce attempted to wrestle me in his dreams again.”

You laughed softly, pouring him a cup of coffee. “He’s lucky you’re too patient to retaliate.”

Viktor rolls his eyes playfully, wrapping his hands around the warm mug. “Patience is a virtue when you live with a man who sleeps like a flailing octopus.”

The two of you shared a quiet laugh before a loud thud from the bedroom signaled Jayce’s less-than-graceful awakening. Moments later, he stumbled into the kitchen, his hair a wild mess and his shirt half-tucked into his pajama pants.

“Morning,” he mumbled, making a beeline for the coffee pot.

“Good morning, sunshine,” you teased, sliding a mug toward him. “Rough night?”

Jayce grunted, taking a long sip of coffee before replying. “I had the weirdest dream. Viktor was… building a robotic octopus, and it kept chasing me around the lab.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching with amusement. “Perhaps your subconscious is trying to tell you something.”

“Yeah, maybe to stop eating so many snacks before bed,” you added, earning a mock-offended look from Jayce.

Breakfast was a relaxed affair, filled with the usual banter and laughter that defined your mornings together. Jayce devoured his toast with the enthusiasm of a man who’d been starved for days, while Viktor nibbled his more methodically, his focus already drifting toward the day’s projects. You alternated between sipping your coffee and reminding Jayce to slow down.

“So,” you began, leaning back in your chair. “What’s on the agenda today?”

Jayce brightened immediately. “I’ve been working on some new hextech prototypes. They’re not quite ready for testing, but I’m hoping to make some progress today.”

“And by ‘progress,’ he means blowing something up,” Viktor quipped, earning a laugh from you and a playful glare from Jayce.

“It’s called experimentation,” Jayce defended, pointing his coffee spoon at Viktor. “Besides, you’re the one who nearly set the lab on fire last week.”

“That was an isolated incident,” Viktor replied smoothly. “And if I recall correctly, you were the one who suggested increasing the power output.”

“I—” Jayce began, but you interrupted with a laugh.

“Alright, boys, let’s not turn breakfast into a blame game. Save the explosions and whose to blame for the lab.”

After breakfast, the three of you fell into your usual rhythm. Jayce and Viktor headed to the lab, their minds already buzzing with ideas, while you took some time to tidy up the house. Despite their brilliance, neither of them was particularly organized, and you often joked that it was your full-time job to keep their chaos in check.

As you moved through the house, you found little traces of their lives woven into every corner—a stack of blueprints on the dining table, a half-finished sketch of a new invention on the couch, and Viktor’s favourite book resting on the armchair where he often sat to read. You couldn’t help but smile at the evidence of their shared passions and their shared space with you.

Later in the day, you prepared some snacks and made your way to the lab. The soft hum of machinery greeted you as you pushed open the door, revealing Jayce and Viktor bent over a glowing piece of hextech. Their heads were so close together it was a wonder they hadn’t bumped into each other.

“Our savior,” Jayce declared dramatically when he noticed you, grabbing a cookie from the tray before you’d even set it down. He grinned, crumbs already on the corners of his mouth.

Viktor glanced up, his golden eyes warm with affection. “Don’t encourage him,” he said with a fond smile, though he accepted a cup of tea gratefully.

You shook your head, amused as always by their antics. “How’s it going?” you asked, leaning against the workbench.

“It’s going great,” Jayce said through a mouthful of cookie. “I think we’re close to something big.”

“Or another explosion,” Viktor murmured, though his tone was light.

As they launched into an animated explanation of their progress, complete with wild gestures from Jayce and more measured input from Viktor, you couldn’t help but feel a swell of affection. This was your life with them—full of creativity, warmth, and the perfect balance of chaos and calm. Watching them together, their passion for their work and their clear admiration for each other shining through, you were reminded once again just how lucky you were to be a part of it all.

[kawoala]

I saw you wanted requests, went "I have so many!!", opened ask box.... brain goes blank. Basic ass rq incoming. College au perhaps? Tsukishima Kei who is nicer to you than most people but that still seems like he barely tolerates you. One day you overhear him (how? Girl idk <3) telling his friend(s) that he does wanna ask you out but he doesn't really know you or wtv and he thinks it's just friendly talk between you. Then you have to figure out what to do with this because omggggggg. I just love accidental confessions, I believe in you

𝐊𝐄𝐈 𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐀 cinnamon roll word count ; (919) content warning ; (accidental confessions, study buddies, flustered tsukishima, best friend! yamaguchi)

Tsukishima Kei is an enigma of a man. He walks around the campus, wearing those stupid, muted blue headphones, eyes dead set on his destination. He doesn’t talk to anybody, doesn’t stop for the dozens of people searching for signatures for baby seals, doesn’t even acknowledge that other people also attend this university.

And then he gets to his Art History class and all of that nonchalant aura is washed away by the carefree smile on your face. He even smiles back at you.

“Hi, Tsukki!” You greet through a mouthful of food, moving your things from the seat designated for him. He sits down and you push a pink box towards him, wiggling your brows. “How’s your morning been? I brought an extra cinnamon roll just in case it was bad. But I also brought it ‘cause you’re my favorite person in the world.”

He looks at the box suspiciously, eyes narrowed, then looks up at you. You almost start to sweat under his gaze. Finally, he shakes his head and takes the box. “You forgot to do the homework, huh?”

You jut your bottom lip out, putting your chin in your hand, elbow on the desk. “You didn’t have to say it like that,” you pout. You pause, then let your head drop down to the desk with a groan. “I had a really busy night, I swear. I had work and then my roommate wanted to— okay, that’s not the point.” You look back up at him and give him your best attempt at puppy dog eyes. “Please give me the homework, Tsukki. I’m dangerously close to failing this class.”

You know and Tsukishima knows that ‘dangerously close to failing’ means that you’ve gotten one grade below a ninety percent and you definitely freaked out over it.

“Mhm, I’m sure.” He rolls his eyes, but pulls his laptop out to pull up the necessary items that you need for the homework. “You know, you could just ask me for help, rather than copying off of me all the time.” He turns the laptop towards you, answers pulled up on the screen.

You perk up at this, homework already long forgotten. Leaning towards him, you smile widely. “Are you serious, Tsukki? You’d be saving my life, probably.”

“Not your life, but your education, for sure.” 

Later that night, as you’re getting ready to meet Tsukishima at the library, you can’t help the buzz of excitement that runs along your skin. You don’t know why, but you’ve always felt a pull towards him. As soon as he sat down next to you on that first day of class, you knew he wasn’t just going to be that blonde kid from your Art History class.

Thankfully, the library isn’t too far from your dorm. It takes less than five minutes to get there. When you walk in, you’re as quiet as possible. You realized a long time ago that college kids and libraries don’t mix, so you try to go easy on the probably overworked librarians.

Today, Sheila is working. She gives you a smile and points to a corner of the library, where you see a blonde head of hair. He’s not facing towards you, so when the bright idea of scaring him pops into your head, you smile wickedly.

As you tiptoe towards him, you can hear him talking. His phone is up to his ear. Who makes a phone call in a dead silent library?

“No shit, Tadashi. Have you seen her ex-boyfriends? They’re, like, pure muscle. And they’re all tall.” He pauses, then scoffs. “Yeah, I know I’m tall. No, that’s not the point. I just—” he cuts himself off with a sigh. “I’m an asshole, right? Don’t answer that. I just mean that I’m not her type.”

You tilt your head curiously. You wonder who he’s talking about— you hope he’s talking about you. A knot of jealousy festers in your stomach.  Your smile falls and you take a step back. Maybe this was a bad idea.

“Yeah, she’s on her way right now. No, Tadashi, I’m not going to ask her out. Why? Because I don’t have a humiliation kink, that’s why.”

You blink a couple times. You can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up, spilling out of your mouth involuntarily. You smack a hand over your mouth just as Tsukishima whips his head around to look at you.

For a long, drawn out moment, you’re quiet.

“How long have you been standing there?”

“Um, long enough?” You provide, shrugging with a smile. “I didn’t know the Tsukishima Kei could have a crush on someone.”

You can see his face get red. “That’s— I just— You’re—”

“Oh my goodness, relax,” you giggle out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I like you too. And, if you were to ask me out, I might just say yes.”

“I hate you.” He turns around and puts his head in his hands, groaning.

You skip around the table and sit across from him. “You like me. You like me so much it makes you dumb. You like me so much that you told your best friend.” You laugh again and lean forward, trying to catch his eyes. “Do you wanna go out with me, Tsukishima?”

His eyes dart to yours, brows furrowing. “You can’t ask me that. I’m supposed to ask you that.”

[luckykiwiii101]

😭😭😭 I ENTERED THE VOID STATE AND IT'S LITERALLY CHANGED MY WHOLE VOCAL CORDS!!! Like, WHOA. 😱 You guys don't even understand. Before all of this, I was a mess. Lemme tell you the full tea.

So like, I used to cry at night, scrolling through Tumblr, seeing everyone else manifesting their dream lives while I was stuck in the same old cycle. 😩 You KNOW the feeling! I even DELETED my Tumblr at one point because I was SO sick of seeing everyone else actually living their dreams, but then I would redownload it like the next day because I couldn't resist!! And then...the whole studying-for-exams thing? LOL don't even get me started. Like, I'd be like "I'll just enter the void state before my exams and manifest straight A's or whatever" (spoiler alert: I didn't.) I'm never really failed any subjects. At least not badly😬

I was starting to get frustrated, right? So then, one day, I was like OKAY, FINE. TIME TO ACTUALLY DO SOMETHING. And that's when I started SATS (State Akin To Sleep). It sounded crazy at first, but honestly, I was down to try anything! (Even while coping with my MADD. Yes I'm one of them. No I'm never getting rid of it.) So I started visualizing my dream life, and LET ME TELL YOU, I GOT SO DETAILED. I was in Velaris with Rhysand (I'm an ACOTAR fan), feeling his WINGS!!! I was literally touching them and just imagining how amazing it would feel to be surrounded by magic and beauty. And I wasn't even thinking about entering the void or anything. I was just feeling the vibezzz. Like, I know that it felt real, and that's what mattered.

Fast forward to a month and 3 weeks of doing SATS (Yes, I skipped some days, but WHO CARES? 😤). And guess what happened? I woke up today, and BOOM! I was in the void! Like, I didn’t even need to know how it happened, it just DID. I just said "Anything i say comes true exactly the way I want it." I said it over and over and over. Until I decided it was enough. Then I thought of leaving, and I was back in my room. Thank goodness I didn't think of leaving when I first entered, because this was literally like a lifetime opportunity I couldn't screw it up.

I actually had to safeguard myself, by saying "I am not impulsive". And the urge to say nonsense just disappeared ✨ That was the first thing I said when I woke up. So I wouldn't say any crazy shit. And so I was sitting there, ready to just start manifesting everything I ever wanted. I even started writing my script. maybe that was just an adrenaline rush.

But here’s the thing...GUYS, NOW THAT I’M HERE....in my room with this "ability"...I’m actually kinda missing my old self. Not the sad, desperate me, but the me who was SUPER EXCITED about just wandering around Velaris at night and dreaming of all this happening. Like, I actually miss that excitement. Looking through Pinterest and seeing the interior of a mansion, and be like "I'll be there soon", seeing pics of tasty food on instagram and saying "I'll eat that soon" I know it sounds crazy, but when you finally get everything you thought you wanted, it’s like...IDK...a little too perfect? 😬

Like, I know this sounds wild— and weird, but it’s TRUE. It's true for me right now. I'm gonna be blunt. The success story is not as exciting when you’re like actually living it, you know? Or maybe it's just me. Like, I’m just over here typing this at 4 AM, feeling kinda melancholic. And kinda (scared). Yes, I wanna enjoy my desires, but... I don't know. I don't want to get too curious and stray from Velaris trying to find out the secret behind ALL of this. For goodness sake, this is crazy!!! My voice is a genie!. It's already bugging me now. I know, I KNOW, this is probably not what you expected from a success story, but I’m being REAL.

I’ve written like 3 pages of my script so far, and I’m just gonna finish it tomorrow. No rush. Because honestly? Rhysand’s not going anywhere. 😉

And YOU can do this too. I know some of you might feel like “Oh, it’s impossible, I keep failing!” but like, just take a second and realize YOU'RE ALREADY GETTING CLOSER THAN YOU THINK. I was stuck too, and look where I am now. Don't look at the part where— I'm kinda ungrateful. But the part where I'm finally gonna meet Rhysand. YOU’RE SO CLOSE. It’s all coming together, trust me! 💖✨

But yeah, it’s 4 AM, I’m gonna go back to bed now, lol. Don’t let the void stress you out, okay? Take it easy. You’ve got this. ✨✌🏼

Also, love you kiwiii💖💖💖💖

SUCCESS STORY

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

First of all, I’m so happy for you and proud of you. You really put your foot down and gave yourself what you wanted.

I can understand what you mean when you say the success story isn’t exciting when you’re actually living it. But when it’s right in-front of you, it doesn’t feel like this out of reach thing you’ve put on a pedestal anymore. It’s just yours. And it feels normal.

But for some people, I think a big part of that came from the dopamine rush people would feel when they’d tell themselves that they’ll have it one day. And when they have it in the 3D, they just feel peaceful with it because there’s nothing to “chase” anymore.

I agree with most of what you said apart from “you’re so close”. With the law of assumption there is no process. You ARE the void. Anyway enjoy having your desires. I’m really happy for you!!😭 Love you too beautiful ♥️

[luvyeni]

🦢… ( drabble ) love blindness ̨ ! ୨୧ 一 양정원 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ ヾ

yandere!jungwon・ fem!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut. yandere.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ manipulation. ‎unprotected sex. mentions of murder. wc ・ ‎0.7k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

reaction. can you please do jungwon yandere smut? any concept !!!

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 my first wonie smut , it might be a little awkward I’m sorry 😔

love blindness; that’s what you have, at least that’s what your friends say. you don’t even see the signs. “he’s controlling.” your friends would warn. “he’s constantly there , why does he need to be next to you at all times?”

and to which you just flagged them off. “he’s just being a protective boyfriend.” you stated. “he knows this is my first relationship, so he’s just extra careful.” and maybe that’s why it was so easy; so easy for you to fall into his dangerous and torturous web. “he’s a good problem, i swear.”

no , no he wasn’t a good person; jungwon knew that. he was sick and twisted; and in love with you. “wonie!” he smiled waiting for you outside of the coffee place, he’d been there for the past hour, watching you — of course you didn’t know, you didn’t need to know. “hey baby.” he leaning over kissing your coffee tainted lips. “you have fun.”

you sat in the seat; frowning. “yeah i guess.” he caught on to your behavior. “did something happened?” you didn’t say anything, he grabbed your cheeks forcing you to look at him. “what’s wrong?” he said. “it’s just that my friends were saying something’s today.” you said , he let you go sitting back in his seat. “like what?” you shrugged. “just that you’re controlling and you’re just always there.”

he was seething; how fucking dare they taint your perfect image of him with their words. “they said that about me?” he was planning their brutal demise in his head , but he turned on his best smile just for you. “im sorry they made you sad , but it’s okay.” he said. “we aren’t gonna listen to them.” he placed his hand on your bare thigh. “okay?” you nodded, smiling innocently at him. “they’re just jealous they don’t have a boyfriend that loves you as much as i do.” he squeezed your thigh. “you look so pretty in this dress.”

“th-thank you.” you stuttered out, flustered. “my favorite color too.” his hands inching up your dress. “did you wear it for me?” you tried to suppress a moan as his finger swiped your clothes clit. “wo-wonie , fuck.” you sighed , he pinched in between your thighs. “watch your mouth , you aren’t a nasty slut like those friends of yours , you’re a good girl.” you nodded. “so-sorry.” he nodded , pulling his fingers away. “let’s get home.” his eyes full of lust.

“oh my god!” you moaned out, legs pinned up as he pounded into your sensitive cunt for the past few hours. “wo-wonie i can’t take it anymore.” you sobbed , tears streaming down your face due to his brutal thrust. “se-sensitive.” he loved getting you like this , making you cum over and over ; to the point you were shaking just from his cock touching your cunt. “yo-you can - fuck - you can take it.” his hands wrapping around your throat. “take it like a good girl.”

only he could get you like this; he was the only one who ever got you like this. “my perfect little fuck toy aren’t you?” he squeezed your neck. “letting me use your precious body like this.” losing himself inside you, making his obsessive nature towards you more come out. “minds , all mines.” he growled. “you’re all mines , no one else can have you.” he restricted your breathing even more. “i’ll kill anyone if they ever think about taking you away from me.”

you gasped out as he finally let your neck go , holding your waist pounding into your sopping cunt. “you gonna cum?” you nodded. “ye-yes!” you shouted in pure ecstasy, he smirked holding off on letting you cum , just to see you beg. “please please let me cum.” you sobbed out , eyes crossing. “look at you going dumb on my cock , just how i like it.” he moaned , feeling himself about to cum as well. “cum for me , be a good girl.”

that’s all you needed before your eyes rolled to back of your head , jaw slack as you came. “of fuck you’re clenching so much , gonna fucking cum.” he groaned. “gonna cum inside you -fuck- fuck fuck!” he thrusted one two three times before stilling his hips , his cum shooting from his twitching cock. “take my cum.” he whispered softly in your ear. “good girl.”

that’s how you saw jungwon; as a safe space for you, a protector of some sort. someone who would never do anything to you to harm you; but people who talk bad about him to you and make you think anything less — well that’s a different story.

like he told you … he’d kill anyone who thought they could take you away from him ….

©️LUVYENI

[ihatethecrowdsyouknowthat]

pillow talk - spencer reid x fem!reader

a night well spent fizzles out into soft words exchanged in pink sheets.

genre: fluff wc: 1019 warnings: mentioned sex, their first time together, casual nudity, inexperienced reader, insecurities, reassurance

It was soft, comforting even. Of course intense because how else could your first time together be? It was him, after all. As you lay, heavy pants finally returning to normal, steady breaths, a hand comes up to smooth down your hair and a kiss is gently pressed to your head.

"How do you feel?" Spencer asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

It proves to be a difficult question. A response seems counterintuitive, like it would demean the moment into something that has to be assessed. An answer has to come, nonetheless.

"I don't know." And it's the truth.

He hums thoughtfully and nods, running a hand down your shoulder. "Good or bad?"

"Good... like my brain's empty. If that makes sense," you answer.

Your head, on Spencer's bare chest, does, in fact, feel foggy. Before today, you were both too scared of the intimacy. Something changed the moment you felt him move his grip from your hip to your waist, like he was worried that he might make you uncomfortable. You didn't want that. It happened only after convincing him that you wanted to go further than the usual groping and hand stuff. Now you're unsure how you feel. Having someone you've been seeing for a while suddenly inside you is bizarre and always will be. You also can't seem to shake that voice that sounds a lot like your friends, telling you that he'll leave after he gets what he wants. Your mind is simply a flurry of everything that anyone has ever told you about intimacy. With Spencer, it was different, though.

Your hand finds his and you mindlessly toy with his fingers as you murmur, "you've done this more than me, correct?"

"Correct."

"How do people usually feel?" you ask softly.

"Everybody's different. You don't need to feel good." He takes a breath and explains in a matter-of-fact tone, his hand lifting above your shoulder to gesture while he talks, "the rush of serotonin and dopamine into our system can leave some people feeling sad or tired once those neurotransmitters decrease."

You nod, finding yourself understanding. It has been a while since you've engaged in any form of intimacy.

"That makes sense."

He nods as his fingers drop to continue the irregular patterns on your arm. His chin rests on your head. "So? How do you feel?"

Again, there's no correct answer to his question. It's a complicated experience with complicated feelings attached. But one thing is for sure, "I'm happy."

"I'm glad. I am, too," he hums.

A smile floats over your lips before a thought occurs and you have an inkling as to how he'll choose to reply to it. Your head lifts and you turn so you're now partly on your side, giving you a perfect view of his face in the soft glow of the afternoon. With the curtains closed, his skin was basked in pale yellow light, the pink of your sheets contrasting the pink of his cheeks.

"Did I do good?" you grin.

He finds you gorgeous, your sickeningly sweet smile making him gaze down at you in pure awe. It's the complete and utter truth when he responds with, "very."

You can't help but tease, "best you've ever had?"

"Yes. I don't think you could've fumbled that badge of honour if you tried," he smiles, his hand gently cupping your cheek, a rough thumb wiping away invisible tears.

Something about the sentiment gets to you. After all, you're nothing but a hopeful romantic. But you're also just a girl.

"So, even if I was bad, you'd still lie and say I wasn't?" you raise your eyebrows and bat your eyelashes.

His eyes narrow but the smile on his face shows you that he's not really upset. "No... I meant that I think I like you too much to not enjoy everything you do."

"Oh," you flush. Why does he have to be so perfect?

The hand on your cheek moves up to brush some of your hair back. "Yeah, oh."

Spencer's different than the guys you've interacted with. He's everything that little girls everywhere dream of. He's Prince Charming. That's why when your lips meet his and the sheet falls back, his eyes never once glance down. Perhaps he's an agent and an individual with three PhDs but he's a gentleman above all else. He never once wants to make you feel like he's not here for you.

When your lips break apart with happy smiles on both of your faces, you take in just how silly he looks. His hair is messy from your fingers, his cheeks are flushed and—your favourite of all—he's covered up to his stomach in pink sheets. The giggle that leaves you is unnecessary and unasked for.

He can't help the smile that comes from hearing your laugh. "What?" he mutters, brows furrowed.

"You just look... so very silly in my bed," you explain, a lovesick grin on your face.

"Oh. Well, I can't help what you choose as interior design."

You sigh dramatically, shaking your head like a disappointed teacher, "I suppose you can't."

The smile on his lips only grows as you act your ass off to seem sad by his comment.

"Perhaps I should also purchase pink sheets?" he suggests jokingly, tucking yet another stray strand behind your ear.

"I really think you should. It would complement your room and it would make you think of me so that's a bonus," you nod. You're unable to stay serious, though, the corners of your mouth lifting despite your efforts.

Spencer nods back, his bottom lip pushing up as he hums decisively. "I'm sold, let's go to the store," he says with an impressively straight face.

You laugh hard, beaming up at him with nothing but pure joy. You find his commitment to the bit amusing and, honestly, endearing. He points his thumb towards the bedroom door with his eyebrows raised in a silent question. Playfully, your eyes roll and rest your face in the crook of his neck.

"I'll get pink sheets if you want me to," Spencer softly mutters.

[rukkiya]

didn’t mean a thing

˚✧ ﾟneuvillette x reader, wriothesley x reader (separate) ˚✧ ﾟ

(they say something mean to reader when reader tries to surprise them)

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

neuvillette

The chief of justice often feels the pressure of his role. Lately the cases have been weighing heavy on him, more so than usual.

The amount of unattended cases and trials to come up only makes the judge more anxious, more stressed, and worst of all more irritable.

He hasn’t been taking care of himself, often prioritizing his job over his health and it breaks your heart. You’ve caught him taking naps in his office when you’d stop by to visit so you thought of making him something to help him during his times when he sleeps.

You're a local seamstress, but you have a good hand for crocheting as well. You often make small crochet plushies for the orphans and melusines so you thought a small pillow would work wonders for nevi when he takes naps in his office.

The iudex is sat at his desk reading over one of the many cases piled up next to him. His migraine forms as he sighs, taking a sip of cool water in hopes to somewhat ease it.

He hears a soft knock at his door and ignores it at first. The people he works with know not to bother the chief when he has this much work to do. but the knock is heard again making him sigh, putting the documents down.

“Come in.” He calls out, seeing your head peek in, a soft smile already playing on your lips.

“Hello love!” you beam, you love visiting your husband at work. You don’t get to see him home too often, you take any chance you get to drop by.

“Hello,” he greets back, mouth forming a straight line. “Is something the matter?” He asks, wasting no time.

“No, I just wanted to drop off something for you.” You smile, feeling how off he was right away. He must be so drained you think, trying to dismiss the uninterested tone in his voice.

You pull a small bag from behind your back and walk up to him, holding it out for him to grab.

His face remains neutral and you feel small under his gaze, regretting interrupting his work.

It’s strange though, he usually always welcomes you with a warm smile, ushering you in to spend time with him. Today was different.

He begrudgingly moves his chair back and eyes the bag.

What’s so important that you have to interrupt his work?

He grabs the bad from you and you pull your hand back as he peeks in, moving the wrapping paper aside.

His hand comes up to the bridge of his nose when he sees a small pillow with blue and white lace trimming at the edges in the bag.

He doesn't know what he expected and he doesn’t understand why he feels so bothered but he can’t help it.

“Is this all?” He asks, putting the wrapping paper back on top, handing you the bag back like it was something that made him upset.

“I made it for you. You often take breaks and sleep in your office so I thought-“

“That’s the problem you know.” He cuts you off before you can finish, making you step back a bit.

“You think, what you do will make things better for people or you know what people need.” He brushes off the small gift like nothing.

“I just wanted you to get proper rest, you look tired. I know you haven’t been getting much sleep because of all the cases and-“

“And you’re the one stopping me from finishing them right now, right? I don’t need you always checking up or stopping by when you feel like it. Some of us take our jobs seriously. It’s suffocating having you stop by everyday. I need space and time to do my own job alone. Thank you very much.” He’s almost out of breath by the end of it, his eyes narrow at you, you feel what the verdicts of the cases feel when he judges them.

You don’t know what to say. You feel small under his gaze and he doesn’t even flinch, after all he’s said he stands his ground.

“Forgive me for worrying in the slightest, it won’t happen again.” Your voice falls flat, you dig your nails in your palm to stop the sting in your eyes as you turn to leave.

Reaching the door you half expect him to stop you, apologize or something but it never happens. You step outside and feel your tears drop, lowering your head from gazes around you.

You head to your home with a heavy heart. You feel utterly stupid. You should’ve seen the signs, you knew he was on edge because of work and you walked right into it like a spider's web.

You reach your house feeling drained. You slowly make your way to your room to continue working on small plushies for the orphans to take your mind off the harsh words you hear earlier. Throwing the small pillow you made into the trash before you get to work. He doesn’t want it and neither do you.

Neuvillette lets out a content sigh. He’s done his work, more than half of the cases he’s reviewed and he feels better. Enough to call it a day and head home somewhat earlier than normal. Maybe he can catch a meal with you, something he hasn’t done in ages.

He opens the door to your shared home and takes note of how quiet it is. Is it usually this quiet when you’re alone?

The living room was dim, the only source of light was flooding the from the cracks of your shared bedroom.

He hangs his coat and makes his way to your shared bedroom. He wants nothing more than to spend time with you.

You hear your bedroom door creak but don’t bother to turn around, already knowing who it was. You made a promise to yourself to stop being overbearing with him, he told you it’s suffocating, you never want him to feel that way with you.

He feels his lips tug upwards a bit at the sight of you. You were stitching some plushies, your work always so beautiful and delicate.

“Hello my love.” He speaks softly, he knows he acted out of place earlier but he wants to make it up to you. He knows you only care, that just the kind of sweet genuine person you are.

“Hello.” You welcome him barely above whisper, not looking up at him. You lay in bed crocheting a small plushie.

“Are you going to drop those off at the orphanage tomorrow?” He asks, heart filling with utter adoration at the sight of you making your beautiful plushies.

“Yes.” You answer, nodding your head as you cut the end of the yarn off.

“Would you like me to assist you?” He asks, you feel like it’s a trick question. After all he has told you today he asks this?

“No need. You have work, I can go with Navia.” You decline, he stands there for a second before clearing his throat.

“Why of course, please send my regards when you stop by.” He asks and you nod.

What’s wrong? You’ve never declined his offers of helping you. Were you not feeling well?

“I’m going to wash up dear, afterwards I’ll make us something to eat.” His voice is much softer than earlier. You don’t understand what he wants anymore. It’s confusing.

While Neuvillette was showering you warmed up his portion of the dinner you made, setting it up on his bedside table. You were hurt by his words but you still want him to eat.

After preparing his meal on his bedside table, you grab your pillow and an extra blanket heading to the living room couch. As much as his words hurt you, you still want to hold him, talk to him and have him close but he doesn’t want that. He made it more than clear in his office.

After Neuvillette’s shower, he’s greeted with a meal on his nightstand. He looks around the room and notices you're not in bed anymore. He catches sight of your plushie on your nightstand and thinks you went to use the other restroom.

He gets changed and smiles at the meal you made for him. Always helping him when he knows you work just as hard as he does, if not even harder than he does. You’re passionate about your work and he adores that side of you.

He buttons up his shirt and sits in bed, looking at the clock. It's been over 15 minutes since he’s gotten out. Why weren't you back in bed?

He stands and walks over to your side of the bed where the plushie lays on the nightstand. From the corner of his eye a blue and white lace trimming catches his attention and he looks down at the small bin next to your side of the bed.

He reaches in and pulls out the small pillow you had brought to his office earlier that day, he feels his heart sink. Remembering his harsh words and how he gave it back to you without a second thought. He feels guilty.

You threw this beautiful pillow away because of his foolish outburst. He feels like a fool for talking to you in such a way. Your guarded attitude made more sense now that he realizes it.

He clutches the small pillow in his hold and looks to your side of the bed, noticing your pillow missing.

His legs move on their own, opening your room door greeted with the dark living room only a candle being your source of light.

He can see you laying on the couch and he feels his eyes burn.

As he nears you he hears you crying and his heart tugs at the sound.

He wouldn’t dare let you sleep alone, ever.

He says nothing as he turns to you and you quickly turn away to hide your tears.

He kneels down a bit. Arms circling under your legs and head, picking you up with ease as he grabs your pillow before making his way back to your room.

You feel more tears spill. What was all this? What does he want?

He stops in the room after closing the door behind him. The only sound to be hard was your sniffling before you heard rain, rain droplets hitting your window.

He holds you closer, tighter in his hold.

“My love, I’m terribly sorry for my words that have caused you to feel the need to distance yourself. I’m sorry I disregarded your gift for me. I will cherish it forever.” He whispers, his legs moving once again making his way to your side of the bed.

He softly lays you down before standing again, you see the pillow you thee away on your nightstand and feel more tears spill.

He turns, he knows he should give you space, give you time alone and as much as he wants to hold you he has to respect your boundaries.

Before he can get too far he feels a hug in his wrist, he feels his own tears spill.

Your heart, which is too kind and forgiving, knows him too well. He truly doesn’t deserve you.

“Please don’t leave.” You whisper, he only nods, who’s he to say no? After all he’s done today he’d be a fool.

He climbs into bed, arms immediately grabbing you, laying you on top of him as the rain outside gets louder.

“My love, I apologize for my actions. Please find it in your heart to forgive a fool like me, not right now but when you can.” He can only whisper, if he speaks any louder he’s scared he’ll cry more.

You nod your head as it lays on his chest “yes my love, I do.” you hug him, if he didn’t care, he wouldn’t be here right now you tell yourself. The fact that he’s here right now shows so much.

You hear his heartbeat steady and the rain outside subside. Knowing he’s calmed down, feeling your eyes grow heavy. Neuvillette holds you closer, making a promise to himself and you to never act out of place like that again. Not with you, who’s so caring and giving he’ll cherish you forever along with the pillow you made for him today.

wriothesley

The duke is in charge of many things, running the fortress of meropide is one. Dealing with troublesome inmates to make sure they know their place and meetings that consist of various things for him to arrange.

Wriothesley was making his way back from a meeting with Neuvillette. He has asked him about an inmate, asking him to bring him up for further questioning, giving him the inmates name and number before he left.

Neuvillette had given him a small paper with the number and name. Wriothesly had memorized it just after a few glances at the small paper. But during his busy day out he has misplaced it. And as the day went on he was worried he’d forget.

He didn’t want to trouble Neuvillette with another meeting to give him the number again so he’s been repeating it while making his way to his office.

You decided to bring Wrio some food and tea. Upon arriving at his office you found it empty and decided to surprise him for when he comes back. Sitting on the small couch by his desk, setting up his meal for when he comes.

You often have one or two days out of the month where you catch up and eat lunch together in his office. It's one of the ways that you get to see him more besides when he comes home to sleep.

No one dared to stop the duke as he made his way to his office, the look on his face alone was screaming don’t approach me right now.

You hear his office door open and hear his footsteps echoing up the staircase, you stand up and wait by the edge of the stairs happy to see him.

He doesn’t even look your way when he reaches the top, instead he brushes past you. Mumbling some numbers under his breath.

“Wrio.” You call out softly, making him whip his head back. He didn’t even notice you were here, let alone see you standing right by him.

“What’re you doing here?” He asks, it comes out harsher than he intends.

“I brought you food! We haven’t had lunch in a while, I made your favorite too. It’s been sometime since we’ve sat down and had a home cooked meal.” You beam, smiling at him and pointing to his desk behind him where you set up the food.

“That’s great, but right now isn’t the time.” He brushes you off. Walking to the cabinet where all the inmates' files are repeating the number in his head still.

“I'm not trying to tell you what to do, but you tend to look over your health because of work. This can help you focus on your work more! I even brought your favorite tea to go with it.” You walk to his desk and pour the hot tea into his favorite cup.

“Just take a second and eat, take care of yourself and-“

“Do you ever stop?” He feels his grip on the cabinet tighten as he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath.

You stop talking and look over at him.

“I’m sorr-“

“I have an office to do my work, for peace and quiet as I do so. No one has the right to waltz in here and think they can have a tea party and talk their heads off while I work.” He slowly turns to you.

You only swallow, not knowing how to respond.

“You know I have more important things to do than have a meal with you. You talk so much, too much sometimes and you don’t know when to stop and it’s bothersome. Learn how to stop at times and not bother people when they’re working, yeah?” He scolds, roughly shoving the cabinet closed.

You look down at the desk, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes.

You feel like you’re glued to the floor. You can’t move.

“I’d like to get back to work, I don’t have time for all this. I’d be best if you went back to work as well.” He sits at his desk with a file and you feel your eyes sting.

Leaving the food on his desk and grabbing your bag. Walking downstairs and away from his office that felt suffocating, you should’ve just minded your business.

You walk out of his office, closing the door softly as his words ring in your head.

Seigwinne sees you, walking up but stopping In his tracks when she sees your solemn expression. She’s studied humans enough to know that the emotion you were feeling was sadness.

You make your way home, stepping inside and locking the door as you feel the first tear run down your face.

You know how much you talk, you know many people don’t like it but Wriothesley never said anything about it. He’s always listened to you, saying it helps him relax. During work he’s often doing the talking so hearing you talk, it brings him peace. He also loves your voice.

When did he start getting annoyed? Has it been a while? What if he’s been tired of hearing me this whole time? You question yourself. Coming to the conclusion that you need to stop. Stop talking so much and taking up his time. It’s for the better.

When Wriothesley ends the meeting with the inmate he finally feels some tension release from his shoulders. He’s been running around all day and he hasn’t had time to sit in peace.

From the time on the clock he sees it reaching seven pm and decides to call it a day. He’s done the most important task already. He can attend other matters tomorrow.

As he cleans up his desk he notices the food and tea, remembering you stopped by earlier to chat with him. Remembering what a jerk he was and how he told you to leave.

He sighs when he notices what you made. You have a habit of putting others' priorities before yours and he feels bad for how he responded. He packs up the food to take it back home, to reheat and eat with you like you wanted.

When he arrives home, he notices how quiet it was inside. He pushes the door open and is met with a small lamp in the kitchen and spots you sitting on the couch, book in hand.

“I’m home darling.” He calls out, seeing you turn to him, giving him a small smile then turning back to your book.

His eyebrows draw together, he loves coming home and seeing you. Always so excited and giddy asking him about his day and telling him about yours but you didn’t even respond to him.

“I brought the food you made back home, I wanted to reheat it and eat with you. We haven’t spent time with each other in a while.” He speaks up, pulling his tie down a-bit as he still sees you reading your book.

Why weren’t you responding? He thinks, you’re never this quiet.

“Have you eaten?” He pushes, trying to get something out of you, anything.

“Not hungry.” You answer, simple and quick. Not even looking away from your book this time.

He feels nervous. He feels something off.

“I’ll heat it up, if you want some please eat.” He sighs, the tension is heavy but nothing happens. He knows something’s off with you.

In silence the duke eats alone on the table, sending you glances as you continue to turn the pages of your book. Not indulging him in your ranting he’s come to grow ‘annoyed of’. He made it clear earlier.

“The food is delicious, thank you for making this.” He tires again, this time you look up. He smiles a bit but you do something that makes him believe something is off, you only send him a thumbs up in return.

He finishes his half and saves you yours for when you get hungry, putting it away and making his way to you.

“Y/n darling. Is something the matter?” He asks, making his way closer to you. Seeing you shift uncomfortably from where you sit.

“Nope.” You shake your head, not daring to look at him. You can feel him coming closer.

He kneels down, inspecting you. The corners of your eyes were a bit red, but nothing else seemed off. Were you feeling sick?

His hand reaches up to feel your forehead but you move away.

“I’m not sick.” You speak up as you dodge his touch. He feels his hand freeze.

“Use your words, what’s wrong? Why aren’t you talking to me?” He asks, placing hands next to both sides of your legs caging you in.

“I’m not one of your inmates, don’t order me to do things.” You speak up, still not daring to look up at him, you can feel his piercing eyes on you.

He’s taken aback at your response.

“I’m not ordering you y/n, I’m just worried.” He sighs, pulling your book down to get you to look at him.

“I said I’m fine, can I get back to reading?” You glance up at him. Trying your best to not let anything slip though. You don’t want him to see how much his words hurt you.

He decides to stop, for now. He knows something’s wrong. You’re too stubborn to tell him though.

He walks into your shared bedroom and into the bathroom to shower, racking his brain to think of what possibly could have made you so upset. The whole time he spends in there he can’t think of why you’re refusing to respond properly.

It’s already later when he gets out, the steam from the bathroom becoming visible when he opens the door.

He sees you in bed and he can help but feel at ease. You came to bed at least. He walks over to the closet eyes you as he does, a small smile making its way onto his lips at the sight of how you look.

He starts changing and notices you’re faced away from him. He quietly steps around and sees you hugging a pillow and he feels this heavy feeling in his chest again.

Did he do something?

He lays down next to you, you feel the bed dip and try your hardest to not turn around. You’d probably hug him and start talking and annoy him again. He probably doesn't want that.

You feel like such a fool. All day his words have been affecting you. You’re too scared to speak again.

You hug the pillow closer to you and feel your eyes burn once again. Hearing those words from him hurt more than anything. You don’t want to show him how much it hurts you though. He doesn’t need to know. He said what he said and what’s done is done.

He lays there for a bit, the tension still surrounding you. He’s unsure of what to do. He wants to hold you, pull you in but what if you move again.

That’s when he hears it, the small sound of sniffing. He freezes. His heart drops making him stand.

You feel the bed move and hear him stand, you think the worst. Maybe he’s leaving because he’s annoyed. He doesn’t want to deal with this. You don’t know why you’re crying but it won’t stop. He just told you something that bothered him and you took it too personally. You’re both hurt and upset and you don’t understand why.

It’s quiet for a few seconds but then you feel a firm hand gently grab your arm, lifting you off the bed effortlessly.

You try to hide your face but Wriothesley has had enough of this.

“Hey hey, look at me.” He softly calls out.

You try to hold it in but you feel more tears run down. Placing your hands on his chest and pushing him away but his sturdy frame doesn’t budge.

“I’m fine, j-just tired.” You try to sound convincing despite your voice cracking. Struggling against his hold, pushing him a bit harder to move.

You resist in his hold and he feels his heart break even more.

“Y/n what’s wrong?” He grabs your hands, stopping your struggle and you look down, not wanting to look at him.

“Nothing, I’ve talked enough today. I don’t want to anymore.” You try to sound convincing, trying to pull your arms out of his grasp.

He’s taken aback, talked too much? You haven’t even talked at all. Where is this even coming from- oh.

oh

He stills, eyes boring into your head as you avoid his gaze.

“I didn’t mean it earlier y/n. I didn’t mean anything I said earlier. It doesn’t excuse if I was mad or busy telling you that wasn't something I ever meant. I love hearing you talk. I love your voice. Don’t ever think that I want you to stop.” He explains, knowing he was the reason for it all now. What a jerk he’s been.

He drops his head, resting it on yours. He waits a bit seeing if you’d pull away but you don’t. “Darling, I’m sorry. From the bottom of my heart I am. I miss hearing you talk. The house is eerily quieter without your beautiful voice and laughter echoing through these halls.” He speaks softly, hearing a small sob escape your lips.

You move back a bit, looking up at him and taking a breath. “But you told me- I don’t want to annoy you.” You hiccup, finally letting more tears fall. It’s been eating you alive. It hurts. It hurts so bad because someone you love told you.

“No no, you’d never, and you never ever had. Do you understand?” He makes it clear, seeing your pretty eyes filled with tears he grabs your face.

Your behavior makes sense now, how could he have been so mean to you? He truly is such a fool.

His hands slowly lift to your face, testing the waters to see if you’d pull away, but you don’t pull back. “Please talk to me. Don’t hold back or hide your voice dear. Scold me, tell me what I did wrong.” He pleads, the look in his eyes desperate.

You nod, wiping your tears when he brings your head to his chest hugging you close. “Please forgive me.” He repeats, squeezing you tighter when you let out a small ‘yes’.

He holds you close, and though you said you forgive him. He can’t take you for granted, not when you’re the best thing to ever come into his dull life. So he repeats it over and over, until you both fall asleep.

_________________

authors note: hello my lovelies HIIIIII!!! (/^▽^)/ it’s been a while but I come with a gift ANGST!! hehe neuvi and Wrio are such sweet men this was kind of a rough one but them with them seems so AMAZING! I hope you all had a lovely holiday and you’re all taking care! Hope I enjoy yet another angst with comfort! take care loves, bagel miss u all mwahhh <33 ^~^! (DISCLAIMER!! this was not edited or looked over, apologies for any misspelled words or incorrect grammar!!)

[lostintransist]

Fallen Angel | Sit Down

AO3

Johnny followed you from task to task today. Every time you turn around you step on him. He would catch you as you stumbled over his feet, pull you into a hug, and drop a kiss on your lips.

“Ah bonnie, falling for me already?”

The first two times you smiled and rolled your eyes. By the fifth time, you were getting annoyed. You did love Johnny, loved spending time with him and chatting about the random topics you could bounce from. Today though? You needed a tiny bit of space and there was no way to ask for it without causing distress.

The open dishwasher door caught you in the leg as you avoided Johnny, again.

“That’s it,” you snap at him, “Go and sit on the couch. I will be right there.”

Johnny blinked down at you, shocked.

He did as you demanded though. You found him, face pinched in concern as you reappeared with a bag of markers in hand.

“’m sorry lass. I should have given you more space since today is your day off,” his fingers twist together as he stares down at them.

Settling down on the floor next to his feet you let out a sigh.

“You’re okay Johnny. You are needing some love and affection. I can do that but if you keep following me, I am going to start yelling.” Unzipping your bag, you set it next on the couch, markers spilling out of it.

Grabbing his left hand, you stretch it out to rest, palm down on the couch cushion.

His brows go up as he stares at you.

“What’s the plan here?”

“My dude, if you’re following me like a puppy, you need more stimulation, so I get to color your tattoos in. Now tell me about the scariest time you’ve had disarming a bomb,” you grab a dark green and start to outline the tattoo on his arm.

Johnny stares at you, face a mass of confusion. His eyes flick from the hand holding him steady to the lines of green already tracing his tattoo.

“What? Tell me already, you love to tell me about being a demolitions expert so tell me the scariest and then you can tell me the one you had the most fun with.” You lift your brows in expectation and then focus back on Johnny’s arm.

His words started slowly, painting a scene of terror without sharing any state secrets. His third tale takes you through finishing his arm tattoo.

“Feel better?” You cap the pink you had used last as you glance up at him.

Pulling his arm closer to his face for a better look Johnny smiles softly.

“A little. I have a thigh tattoo, wanna color that too?”

Glancing to his jean-clad legs and up you give him a smirk.

“How slutty of you Sargent MacTavish. Does Simon like it?”

Johnny pinked in the face as he pushed you over by your forehead.

“Brat. Do you want to color it or no?”

You laugh as you reply, “Of course I do. Now drop trou.”

His face got pinker as he stood and settled his pants around his knees before sitting again.

Tracing a finger over the Celtic scrawl that bands around his thigh you waffle on how to color this one in. Finally deciding to do a color gradient you set about your work.

It is nearly an hour later when John and Simon come in through the front door and see you and Johnny. Johnny is now asleep face down on the couch pants around his ankles. You are still seated on the floor, elbow in his ass as you stretch his skin slightly as you color.

“What happened here?” John gestures to the sleeping Scotsman.

You shrug one shoulder, the marker never leaving contact.

“He pissed me off.”

Simon and John share a speaking glance before leaving you to your artistry.

Fallen Angel Masterlist | Masterlist

@lilynotdilly

[misayani]

fluff with se-mi? :3

CHERRY-SH MY LOVE ! — SE-MI (PLAYER 380)

◜ pairing ... se-mi / player 380 x  fem reader

◜eversince you started working at Ice Creampies, the famous ice cream parlor downtown, you've seen the same woman everyday. you started to get concerned about her health, won't eating ice cream everyday give you diabetes? 

𔗨 author's note — this is my best attempt in writing something sweet, enjoy ! <3 [lowercase intended]

— fluff 

the first time you saw her was on the second day of your work, july 4th. your lips form into a polite smile as you greeted the woman. you observed her, seeing her wonderful taste in fashion. she wore a black leather jacket with a black tee underneath and some slightly large pants. you also noticed the amount of rings she had on each hand, the black choker around her neck, and of course, the piercings on her pretty face.

she looks similar to that one anime chick. you thought. nana something- osaku? osaki? osaka?

"hi. i would like to get cherry ice cream on a medium sized co—" she cut herself off as she finally locked eyes with you. she probably didn't even hear you greet her earlier since she was too busy patting her pockets.

"hi."

you blinked at her, "hi." you smiled before she opens her mouth and then closes it again. you saw her glance at your name tag then letting out a small cough.

"new here?" 

you pause before answering, "yeah." you thought that maybe she was a regular customer, considering how she caught on to the fact you were a new worker.

"right. um, cherry ice cream on a medium sized cone please." she nods to you as she hands the exact amount for the ice cream before you could even serve it to her— okay maybe i'm right, regular customer. you took the payment from her before you excused yourself to serve her the ice cream.

who in their right minds would be willing to swallow cherry ice cream. eugh. 

you scrunch your face up as you scoop out the cold cream, not being a big fan of cherries. holding the finished scooped ice cream, you walk back to the counter and see the rather attractive woman waiting patiently— elbows rested slightly on the counter with the both of her palms supporting her face.

she notices you come back and you handed her ice cream with a side note of 'enjoy. have a nice day.' she simply nods to acknowldge you before glancing at you one last time, and then walking out the ice cream parlor.

second time she walked in was july 5th. this time, actually greeting you back with a small smile. she ordered the same thing, cherry ice cream, and handed you the payment. minutes later, you came back with her ice cream, keeping it away from you as possible. you couldn't stand the smell of cherry.

your heart flutters as the woman chuckles— "hell, why do you look so disgusted with it" 

you pressed your lips together as you handed her the ice cream, "just not a big fan of cherries."

"why not?"

"they make me dizzy. i mean- the smell at least."

"cherries make you dizzy?" she raises her eyebrows at you while she licks her ice cream. you check her out, today she's wearing a simple long sleeved white polo, with the sleeves cuffed up to her elbows and two buttons undone and some casual denim pants.

"done checking me out?" you snap your gaze back to hers. her lips formed into a smug smile as she licks her lips. 

"wasn't checking you out." you retort. she just chuckles as if she doesn't believe you and started to head to the exit.

she pauses, before turning to the counter, "i didn't mind. thank you for this." she says as she waves the slightly melting ice cream in her hand and then she walks out the parlor, leaving you behind the counter face palming out of embarrassment.

following days passed with her walking in the store and buying the same thing everytime, not noticing the glances and the flirty smiles she was giving you. sometimes she'd tell you some flirty remarks and then always quick to leave the store after.

"you have a boyfriend?" it was your 6th time serving her ice cream. your face heats up at the sudden question as she stares at you waiting for an answer.

soon enough, you'd come up with something a bit bolder than usual. 

"why? wanted to ask me out?" the words slipped from your mouth confidently. her eyes twinkle in amusement as she grins,

"maybe." 

butterflies swarm in your stomach as you feel blood rush to your cheeks. your lips part, hesitating for a moment, before telling her: "i'm not interested in men. so, no." 

she bites her lower lip, a grin threatening to form on her face. you notice her cheeks turn into a light shade of pink before she grabs something from her back pocket then handing it to you. she bites down on her melting ice cream in anticipation, observing your face for any reactions.

it's a folded paper. confused, you accepted it and unfolded the small piece of paper. a smile spreads across your face as you see what's inside: her number and a 'call me sometime;)' written messily under. 

you look up to her, who was staring at you with hopeful eyes. you shoot her a warm smile, nodding before tucking away the note in your jean's pocket. 

"i will." the both of you were staring at each other before her lips finally form into a smile and you couldn't help but giggle like a high-schooler who just got asked out. 

"okay, sometime." she nods while smiling, "sometime." you agree as she makes her way to the exit. "oh your ice cream is melting!" you exclaim, seeing the cherry liquid drip down her fingers. she looks at her hand, surprising herself as if she didn't even noticed— "oh shit, yeah. it's fine, i'll handle it." 

she glances at you one last time before saying, "thank you for this." and then walks out the store leaving you with a more-than-happy feeling inside you.

a few days passed and every single one of them was her visiting the store. she finally told you her name, se-mi—which was funny, her number came first before she even introduced herself to you. but nonetheless, you both started texting each other days ago, either continuing the unfinished conversation from the store earlier or just her being talkative and you rolling your eyes at her antics and smiling dumbly at your phone screen.

july 19th, 18:00. it was the end of your shift, finally, you thought. you greet your co workers goodbye as you walk out the store with an excited expression. 

se-mi had asked to take you out on a date once your shift ended. here you are: wearing a casual dress that ended just above your knees, which you wore throughout your shift, walking down the steps before you were met with se-mi patiently waiting and leaning back on her motorcycle.

good god, how can this woman be more attractive? 

she notices you walking closer towards her as her lips immediately form into a smile. 

"hi." she softly greets

you smile, "hi." you shyly say as you finally reach her. she carefully hands you a helmet as you laugh, taking it from her. she shots you a confused look, "how many girls you asked out before have worn this helmet?" you say while chuckling.

she looks at you as if she was offended before she rolls her eyes playfully, "i just bought that yesterday. and no else will use it but you and only you." she remarks.

you smile, "i'm kidding babe, where are we off to anyways?" you say, wearing the helmet which by the way, smelled amazing. 

she suddenly coughs, you notice the tips of her ears turning pink. she distracts herself, grabbing something from the tote bag she brought. "it- it won't be a secret anymore if i tell you." she cleared her throat before handing a blanket to you.

"wrap that around your waist." 

aw. she cared enough to bring a cover for your dress. 

she hops on her motorcycle before slightly tilting it sidewards so you'd get on easier. she waits as you finish wrapping the blanket around your waist before you hopped on.

"hold on tight, i'm gonna go fast." she warns before the two of you ride off to the night, the wind rushing past and the city lights blurring into streaks of color.

that night, she took you stargazing. the comfortable blanket on the grass, the both of you seated, and two tubs of ice cream for the both of you— cherry flavored for her, and strawberry for you. still, you didn't let her pass, you told se-mi about how you absolutely despised cherries as her laugh surrounds the both of you and into the peaceful surrounding.

<3

@misayani

[fornooneinparticular]

nanami x reader

Summary: a surprise encounter with your husband, who you thought died during the shibuya incident

tags: (angst?), he’s alive, I’m just coping

It’s almost been two years after the Shibuya incident. Nanami was dead. Or so you thought. But now in this very moment, in japans country side far away from Tokyo, he was standing in front of you.

You just moved to the country side to leave the past behind. Leaving Tokyo and your once shared home with Nanami was hard. But you couldn’t stay. Not with all those memories. Memories of the love that you once shared. Which have now turned Bittersweet.

You tried to not think about it to often since it’ll just make you cry again. Which has proven to be difficult since everything in and outside of the apartment would remind you of him. And then the realization would set in that he’s gone. And every time it feels like you’re reliving that fateful day again.

That is why you had to leave.

It was less noisier here than in Tokyo. Of course moving to somewhere you don’t know anyone brought with its fair share of difficulties. You barely even spoke a word these last few months that the first time you greeted one of your neighbors even the sound of your own voice sounded foreign. Friends are difficult to make. And the ones you do have live almost three hours drive away. But for what’s it’s worth, you could live with the loneliness. At least here, nobody would look at you with pity. Nobody would ask about your deceased husband.

Today was your first day on your new job at the nearby hospital. It wasn’t your first choice but I’ll pay the bills. The other nurses working there were nice and were too busy to tell you the latest gossip to ask you personal questions. On your way home, you caught a glimpse of short blond hair. It was fleeting since the person was quite far away and there were many bushes and threes on the property so you couldn’t see clearly. But it still made you halt in your step. They look just like…

Of course it could be him. He’s dead for gods sake. Why are you still searching for him in the crowd. But what if. There wasn’t a body to be buried. So maybe.

No. You shake that thought away. He’s dead. And you know this. It’s just your stupid heart. It still couldn’t move on. It’s still isn’t yours. You’ve come to that realization after trying to date someone again. It wasn’t your idea of course. It was a blind date that your friends set up in order to help you. It was nice of them but you felt guilty. Guilty of breaking the promises that you made. Guilty that you’d never love anyone again like you loved Kento. It wouldn’t be fair to them, so you paid for your own food on the date.

You’re okay with been alone. You don’t need to find someone again. You’re fine on your own. Your independent. At least you could play the role of a cat lady. You just need the cats.

But still. For what ever reason you couldn’t be okay with not checking if the blond haired person was Kento or not. It’s stupid. It’s just hair. Many people have blond hair. You never cared to check if someone looked like your deceased husband before. Why do you care now?

This was different this time. It was a gut feeling. You felt stupid but you couldn’t go back to your apartment without knowing. So you quickly and quietly made your way over. You decide to follow him a little at least for as long as long as you’ll need to gather up the courage to ask.

There’s nothing to gain from this. You’ll just quickly check and then continue being sad and move on. There’s no harm in checking. But what would you even say. Hello, sorry you look like my husband who’s been dead for two years but I’m in denial. What if it’s not him and you just followed a random stranger around. Before you could turn around and flee the possibility of an awkward situation the person abruptly turned around.

It couldn’t be. No it can’t be. But he does look…

Have you maybe finally lost your mind.

In front on you, less than three meters away stands Nanami Kento. Or at least someone who looks like Kento. Maybe it’s not your Nanami. Maybe he just looks like your Nanami. But he does look eerily similar. The hair, his face, the way he carried himself, the way he just stood there and looked at you. He looks exactly like Kento. Aside from the burn that covered one whole side of his body.

It wasn’t until he speaks up that you realize that you stared at him for a while without saying anything.

“Do I know you?”

[citrustan]

slipping through my fingers [5] (myg)

title: the storm-ish 1.0

pairing: min yoongi x reader

genre: dilf!yoongi, exes and co-parents au, angst!, fluff, smut

summary: you meet yoongi's fiancée for the first time and... don't care to get a good read on her. yoongi keeps upsetting surprising you.

warnings: [other parts should be read before this one] this one's frustrating, there's not much improvement regarding oc and yoongi, it gets worse actually. aand it's a teensy tinsy bit unedited bec j don't have access to my laptop rn.

"Here's the dining area!" Taehyung fakes excitement as he leads the party further into your home, "I set the table."

You crouch down, catching your daughter in a tight hug, “Hi, baby,” you whisper into Nao’s hair.

For a second, you could pretend everything was normal. Just you and your kid. No pink hair highlights.

But then you stood up and saw Yoongi standing awkwardly behind Naomi.

“Hey...” Yoongi greeted you softly. His eyes briefly met yours before flicking back to Nao, “Hyejin wanted to meet you, and, uh… she brought dinner.”

You forced a small, tight-lipped smile.

Dinner. She brought dinner. As if that made any of this easier. Still, you nodded once, knowing you had no choice but to go through with this.

Hyejin had walked into your kitchen by now, snooping around with curious eyes. She wants to know you so bad. Picking up a random iron skillet from the drying rack, she observes the room intensely.

She eyes the colour scheme you picked out for your whole house. It's plain but not bland, she notes. White. A little... woody. Vintage. Yet very colourful and so full of personality.

A lot of well-executed DIY projects, most likely done with your daughter--- a windchime, stained glass paintings, miniature clay figurines, jars of seashells, hanging jellyfish lamps, personalized ceramic plates and mugs with designs painted and characters sculpted onto them.

Hyejin finds you fascinating.

She noticed a bunch of crocheted tapestries. Similar to the ones in Yoongi's room. She had always found it an odd design choice in his home. But, it makes perfect sense in yours. And obviously, she finally understood where he got it from.

And she can't wait to finally get to know the woman who had her soon to be husband wrapped around her finger for years.

Yoongi never told her why you broke up but she intends to get that information out of the two of you today.

Suddenly snapping out of it, you speak stiffly, “Oh, um, thank you,” gesturing at the bags of food place on the coffee table.

Your eyes dart towards Hyejin, who was already gliding back to you sporting a bright, effortless smile.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, _____,” Hyejin smiled warmly, "Your home is lovely. You really are a true creative."

Whatever that means.

“I hope it’s okay I tagged along. I’ve been wanting to meet you for a while now. Yoongi never talks about you."

Oh!

That definitely didn't hurt.

You smile, not knowing what to say. Simply nodding, “Thank you. And sure, it’s fine.”

But it wasn’t fine.

You still felt disrespected.

Taehyung’s brows raised slightly, but he didn’t comment either. Instead, he offered you a supportive smile from behind Hyejin and mouthed, 'You’ll be okay.'

You can only hope you would.

Yoongi knew how fragile you were, and how hard it was for you to see them together, but he had let this happen anyway.

Yet, you understood Hyejin too.

It isn't really her fault. You'd have felt better about it had this been your decision.

"Mimi, go wash up for dinner." Yoongi instructs his daughter.

Then Hyejin chimes in, "But remember not to get your hair wet! _____, do you have a shower cap she can borrow?"

Your mouth drops open a little and your ears start to heat up.

Who does this woman think she is? She's talking to you as if you're not Nao's MOTHER.

What the hell does she mean 'Do you have a shower cap she can borrow?'

That's your kid, not hers.

Not realising you were glaring at Hyejin, you forced out yet another smile. This time it was glaringly obvious.

"She has one. She knows where to find it. Don't you, Nao?" You smiled down at her fakely.

Your daughter grabbed at your dress, "Yeah. But it's okay if I don't use it. My school doesn't allow colourful hair. We'd get into trouble." She directed the last half to Yoongi's fiancée.

Oh, thank goodness it wasn't permanent dye. You breathe a sigh of relief.

Hyejin's smile drops a little but she recovers almost instantly. "Oh, wouldn't you want to twin with me though?"

Is this lady emotionally manipulating your kid?

You don't give Nao a chance to respond because you knew she'd never want to hurt anyone's feelings and you hate that she's pushed in a corner now. "Wash your hair, honey," you smile down at her sweetly, "Use mommy's shampoo if you need to."

Yoongi finally decides to intervene. "Or we could let Mimi make her own choice. She knows the consequences, and is smart enough to decide what's better for her."

And unsurprisingly, ever the diplomat (which is odd because he's literally a lawyer by trade), he won't take sides.

Sadly, he's wrong this time.

Your squint your eyes at him as if you can't understand him, "What consequences? There's a consequence. Just the one. And she already stated it. We'll get in trouble with her school."

Your anger is a bit misdirected when you demand your daughter to clean up, "Go wash your hair, Naomi. I don't want to see even hint of colour that's not natural."

Nao's eyes widen before she runs off pouting. She knew you hadn't meant to scold her but it still upset her.

This is exactly what you were worried about.

You look at Taehyung pleadingly, prompting him to check on Nao. He immediately complies and chases after her.

You weren't ready to deal with Yoongi's new life now because you knew you wouldn't be able to digest it. You did not want Nao taking the heat for something that isn't her fault. But you suppose that's inevitable because you still haven't learnt to process your feelings and emotions about Yoongi.

Also, in all honesty, you could've dealt with the school. It wasn't that serious of an issue. They aren't too strict on the appearance discipline, especially hair.

You're on a roll now though.

"And what the hell are you doing altering my daughter's appearance without consulting me anyway?" You don't know who you squeaked it at but it was definitely warranted for.

"She's my daughter too, _____." Yoongi speaks cooly yet firmly.

"Exactly. She's yours and mine. And I need to be part of every decision making process," you scoff frustrated, "I mean, how would you feel if Taehyung and I decided to chop her hair off? What if the three of us get... I don't know, bowl cuts?" You're on the verge of yelling.

Yoongi looks bewildered, "You wouldn't do that."

You record the time. This is the moment you think Yoongi finally understands you.

"That's the point, Yoongi!" You exclaim. "Of course I wouldn't because I'm not fucking stupid!" You place emphasis on 'stupid', "-and I respect you!"

The jab wasn't subtle.

"What are you implying? That Hyejin is? That I am? That we don't respect you?"

"Oh, am I wrong?" You raise a brow.

"It's just some hair dye."

"That's not the issue here," you suddenly point at his fiancée, "And why are you calling my kid Nao?"

Hyejin's eyes widen at the sudden attention. She looks to Yoongi for help.

Taehyung reemerges from Nao's room when he hears arguing.

He observes Yoongi's stance and his explosion radar goes off, "O-okay, why don't we just-" but before he could even try to diffuse the situation, Yoongi loses it on you.

"God, _____, what the hell is wrong with you?!"

A sharp pang hit your chest, it felt as if the air had been sucked out of the room.

He's never yelled at you before. He's yelled with you, around you, maybe even about you but never at you.

Moreover, he did not deserve to scream at you.

You wish you could just pout and run away into your room like your daughter had.

Instead you stand your ground and stare at Yoongi's face, challengingly.

Hyejin just stood back, a little bewildered. She's surprised Yoongi had it in him to scream this loudly. And he's the least angry, most stable person she knows. Though, she doesn't know how to feel about him treating you like this.

On one hand, she's elated that he's speaking in her defence. And on the other, she's worried she'd be on your bad side after this. And that you'd keep Nao from her. If she didn't have a relationship with Nao, she can't possibly continue being with Yoongi.

For a while, nobody said anything. Taehyung was too afraid to even breathe let alone say anything.

The two of you were like a pressure cooker.

And let's not get into what Yoongi said--- 'What's wrong with you?'

You'd like to know. Clearly, something must be wrong because you don't know why he'd marry a woman after months of dating but not you even after years of being together and even having a child with.

You watch as Yoongi's fiancée grasps his hand to calm him down.

There have been very few moments when you've wished you had one of your classic cream pies to smash in someone's face.

Now is one such instance.

And then it happens.

Your vision begins to blur.

Not wasting any time, you wrap your arms around yourself in a soothing manner and storm off into your room, refusing to break down in front of a stranger.

You wanted to make a good impression so badly but it was just too soon.

Yoongi swiftly shook Hyejin off of him to follow you but was pulled back by a strong arm. Taehyung.

He glares at the taller man before yanking his arm back, continuing after you.

Before you could slam and lock your door like a petulant child, Yoongi blocks it with his foot, "Stop."

"I don't want to talk to you." You assert.

"Then don't. Just listen to me." He suggests. More like demands. His face was stoic as ever with maybe a hint of discomfort and remorse now.

"Please?"

Outside, in the living room, Heyjin and Taehyung awkwardly lingered.

Taehyung breaks the silence, "You just had to do this now, didn't you?"

Hyejin doesn't reply but gives him a pointed look.

As much as she trusts Yoongi, she doesn't trust you and Yoongi locked in a room together. She noticed way too much passion for two people who've broken up.

Unfortunately having crossed way too many boundaries already, she can't help but just wait.

₊˚.🎧 ✩｡ rose blood by mazzy star ₊˚.🎧 ✩｡

note: fuck tumblr for posting my half-baked chapter im literally so fucking annoyed i had to redo all the changes but it's whatever!

exhales

and i am still sorry for the delay! please let me know what you think; love it, hate it, can't stand it, can't live without it? tell me! bec i wanna hear all about it

(anf did you catch a subtle Gilmore girls reference 😋)

[captain039]

PART 3 Unconventional Alpha

Alpha!Viktor x omega!reader

Warnings: Heats, suppressants, AOB, light swearing, Viktor’s not dying but still disabled, reader has chronic pain, plus size reader, nesting, Older Viktor, Professor Viktor, artistic reader, age gap reader is in their 20s +, virgin reader, first times, smut? Haven’t decided yet

Previous part <-

After that little scene with Viktor, you don’t know how to act anymore. Your heart stupidly races when he’s nearby, your stupid inner omega wants to preen and send out pheromones to him. You’ve opted to take two suppressants rather than one because you swear your hormones are acting more stupid than normal. Viktor’s easy to talk to, despite the cold exterior he puts on you realise he’s actually a brilliant and nice man, well you already knew he was brilliant. You notice how his facial expressions are more noticeable now, he uses his hands to talk more too. It’s sweet you think, in your mind and from your past experience alphas are mostly asserting dominance or trying to be better than everyone. Not Viktor, not even once even when you get into heated discussion about his work he doesn’t let on with his alpha nature, no alpha pheromones flooding your senses or that certain tone alphas get when ‘passionate’ about things. Despite your pain and no matter how crappy you feel you always make it to the cafeteria. It’s been a month now, 30 days of seeing him here, well 29 considering he showed up to your room one time instead. You admire his maturity and brilliant brain, you can’t deny he’s incredibly handsome with his lean frame, high cheekbones and slender fingers. You hate yourself for it, but you’ve grown to like him, a stupid little crush like you’re in high school again.

“Evening” You look up from your tray of food and give Viktor a small smile. You’re exhausted today, you could barely stay awake during lesson times and didn’t have any energy to paint. You’ve taken a nap today and you still feel like you could fall asleep on this table.

“Hey Professor” you reply as he sits. Your hips are throbbing, these plastic chairs are a nightmare for someone like you.

“I have something for you,” he says digging through his bag before pulling out a strange device.

“What is that?” You laugh a bit.

“I know it looks strange but it’s a heating pad” You chuckle a bit and you eye for a moment.

“You tie this around your hips, so it sits on your lower back, there’s a rune carved here for precision so when you turn it on it goes directly into the muscle” he shows you each part as he speaks and you smile a bit.

“I’ve tested it, perfectly safe” he says pushing it over the table to you.

“Seriously?” You quiz and he nods.

“I feel special to have one of a kind” you grin tracing the rune with your fingers and ignoring the warmth in your chest.

“This should help with your muscles” he says and you notice the light redness that coats his cheeks.

“Think of it as an apology for my… behaviour the other day,” he says his voice lower.

“I told you it was fine” you say ignoring your rising heartbeat.

“I imagine with your condition though you’re sensitive to touch and I shouldn’t have touched you considering the amount of pain you must be in already” he explains and you swear you fall in love.

“I- thank you, this is very nice,” you say putting the heating pad in your bag.

“Do I just microwave it?” You ask.

“Yes it’s like a normal heat pad” he nods as your mind races with thoughts already adding to your exhaustion and you struggle to finish your food.

“Is something the matter?” He asks tilting his head ever so slightly.

“No, I’m alright just a long day” You force a smile and he nods.

“Well I won’t keep you too long considering the lateness” he says glancing at his watch and you feel guilty.

“That’s ok,” you say.

“I’m afraid I have papers to go through tonight” he chuckles lightening the mood.

“Oh? That sounds fun” you snort out softly.

“If your definition of fun is looking through equations regarding the hexcore then yes, but as we’ve discovered you find that boring” he says with a teasing tone in his voice.

“Touché” you reply.

You head back to your room after you’re done. You chuck your bag on your bed and sit down carefully before kicking off your shoes and crawling awkwardly to lie on your stomach. You sigh hugging your pillow under your head before you glance at your bag. You dig out the heat pad Viktor made and eye it a bit. You put it in the microwave before taking it out you feel a strange sensation go through your hand before you tie it around your hips. You lie down again and let out a small groan leaving your lips as you feel the strange pulse of heat go to the tense muscles in your lower back.

“Oh that’s good” you mutter to yourself sighing in relief. You wear it out the next day, under a baggy shirt, you put it in the microwave a little longer this time and it feels like a toasty marshmallow melting into your muscles. You either want to marry the professor or praise him, you haven’t decided. You still feel tired today though, as the warmth spreading on your lower back is making the desk look extra comfortable. You’re in the art room alone so nobody should see you if you took a small nap. You rest your head on your arms on the table and close your eyes.

Viktor paces his lab a bit, the blackboard filled with equations, but his mind isn’t focusing. He keeps flicking back to you, your smile, your eyes. He tells himself off for even thinking about a student in such a way even if you’re not his student. He knew he shouldn’t have touched you but his alpha instincts went into overdrive the moment you didn’t fully straighten up and cursed. He needed to find the problem and fix it quickly, that’s all he thought, seeing his omega- see you, in pain, made him want to help. Making you that heating pad special was bordering all the boundaries he set up for himself. He tested that heating pad about fifty times before he got it right, the deep bruises on his hips were a show for it. He walks down the hall needing some fresh air, he passes the art room on the way to the courtyard his eyes briefly flickering in the room before he stops. He walks back seeing you hunched over asleep on your desk. He knows that can’t be comfortable and he knows damn well you’re going to pay for it. He opens the door softly making sure no one is around before he approaches, he moves quietly as best he can with his cane before reaching out to gently shake you. He frowns though your shirt is lifted up slightly his heart misses a beat as he sees the heating pad he made on your lower back secured by the hem of your pants. It fills with warmth and pride that you’re using it, making his alpha nature almost purr if possible. His fingers shake a bit as he lifts his hand and gently moves a few strands of hair from your face. He frowns noticing the way you’re tense even in sleep, your brows slightly pinched together, your jaw set. He looks away a moment before gently taps the desk loudly with his cane. You jolt and he curses himself silently.

“Easy” he says voice low and your eyes flick to his a look of relief going over your features when you realise it’s just him.

You’ve been jolted awake before but damn does it suck. You clear your throat and rub your eyes.

“Not a good student am I?” You chuckle seeing his lips twitch.

“Sleeping in class? No, I'd say not” he teases.

“Given the circumstances, I can overlook it” he lets his smile widen.

“Thank you kind sir” you chuckle sighing.

“You should go back to your room and rest, I can give Mr Klint a note” he offers and you shake your head.

“No it’s alright, I gotta do stuff today,” you say sighing.

“Pushing yourself too hard leads to worse burnouts” he says and you feel defensiveness rising within you.

“I said I was fine” You don’t mean to snap, but you do, even if he said it without a condescending tone.

“Of course, I apologise for overstepping Miss Y/n” he nods a small frown on his face and you sigh feeling guilty.

“Professor Viktor?” You hear your teacher Professor Klint walk with a smile on his face.

“Professor Klint” Viktor replies giving you one last look and a nod goodbye before talking briefly with your professor and leaving. You sigh running a hand through your hair before you continue with your day. Viktor was right you probably should’ve gone home, you end up leaving because you feel horrible, your stomach tumbles and you feel nausea building. You manage to get to your room before you throw up. You cough and gag, panting heavily before you sit on the floor shaking. You figured you ate something really bad during lunch or you’re officially dying, which may be over dramatic but still.

You think you might be dying. You haven’t stopped puking and even plain bread seems like the worst thing to put in your stomach. You have constant shakes and hot and cold flushes, it’s either the flu or a stomach bug or some sort of virus. You don’t know anyone in your class who is sick though, you rarely go out and hang out with other people too. You need to see one of the doctors they have on sight, you send Dr Marion an email before getting a reply back with a time. You feel like shit when you get ready, you shower, well try to and getting dressed got ten times worse. You put on a mask and stumble down the halls in your overly big hoodie and sweatpants, you don’t give a damn, you feel too sick to care. You’ve got a puke bag in your pocket too just in case you don’t find a trash can, or run to the toilets quick enough. You think the walk got longer to the doctor's wing, you hear your name being called out and glance seeing Professor Viktor. He looks concerned and you tell him to stay where he is making him frown more.

“I’ve got something and I don’t wanna get you sick,” you say a tremble going through your body as a small breeze comes through.

“I’m going to the doctor now” you explain.

“Do you need an escort? You look like you’re about to fall over” he says taking a few steps closer.

“No, no I don’t wanna be the one who gets the great inventor and man of progress sick,” you say taking a few shaky steps back.

“I can assure you it won’t be the end of the world if I get sick, please,” he says and you sigh not wanting to argue.

“Fine,” you say and he walks closer to you.

“Did the doctor's wing get further away?” You ask as you listen to the rhythmic sound of his cane and walking.

“No they didn’t, but in your condition, I imagine they feel like it” Viktor chuckled softly. You let out a small sigh and walk slowly and shakily. You catch a whiff of his scent and sigh in relief at the calming alpha pheromones he lets out. You wonder if he realises he’s doing it, you’re not going to say anything though. You make it to the doctor’s wing finally and thank Viktor collapsing into one of the chairs.

“I’ll tell the receptionist you’re here” he says and you go to protest but he’s already gone. The receptionist gives you a glance before nodding and Viktor comes back and sits by you.

“You can go if you want I’ll be ok” you say behind your mask.

“I’ll sleep easier knowing you made it back to your room without collapsing,” he says and you nod. You sag into the chair wanting to hide in your large hoodie, despite the mask you can still smell him, it makes you want to lean into his neck and breathe him in. You hear your name and groan softly more to yourself and stand heading inside.

“You don’t look well at all love,” Dr Marion says. She’s a sweet elderly lady who you’ve been seeing since you came to the academy a few years ago.

“I don’t feel it” you answer as she sits on you on the bed.

“Oh, you’re hotter than lava, goodness” she feels your forehead. She runs the usual tests, checks your temperature, your ears, and your mouth, and takes a blood test after you tell her your symptoms.

“Your A 24 count is higher, how many suppressants are you taking?” She asks with a small frown.

“Two?” You want to grimace knowing it isn’t recommended.

“Right well, there’s your problem dear” She chuckles softly and you sigh.

“What made you feel the need to take two?” She asks.

“My hormones were going a little haywire” you shrug.

“Out of the blue?” She asks and your cheeks warm, yeah totally out of the blue.

“You tell me sugar” she smiles.

“I’ve been talking to an alpha, not in that sense just, at dinner time we sit and chat about stuff and my stupid hormones are acting up, I was getting urges, my pheromones were out of whack and I didn’t want to ruin anything” you sigh a bit sagging.

“Oh you sweet girl” she laughs softly.

“I remember meeting my alpha and the same thing happening,” she says fondly.

“Wait, what?” You say frowning.

“Yeah, when I met John my now mate and husband, my body started acting strange too, I went through the same things you did, guess our bodies know before we do” She has this look of love on her face and you think it’s sweet, but not in your case.

“No, it’s nothing like that we’re just chatting” you explain. Sometimes you swear she’s your grandmother version therapist too.

“Well whatever the case, you’ll need to stop taking the suppressants till your body runs through this virus otherwise it’s only going to get worse, I’ll give you some antibiotics that should help, but until you’re 100% no more suppressants or it could be fatal, you’re also not contagious,” she says scribbling on paper before standing.

“Wait right here, I’ll be back with those antibiotics,” she says and leaves the room. You nod your mind reeling a bit, you haven’t been of your suppressants in well years. You feel your anxiety building before Dr Marion comes back in with a small container of pills. She sends you on her way and you stagger a bit out of her room.

“Are you alright?” Viktor stands and walks to you.

“I um-“ you gulp a bit your heart pounding in your chest. His eyes go worried as he waits.

“I’m not dying- no it’s just a virus,” you say realising how bad it looks and he sighs in relief.

“You know how to scare a man” he chuckles softly and you force a smile.

“What’s bothering you then? If it isn’t too personal” he says softly.

“It’s-“It is personal, so why the hell do you want to tell him everything?

[bullet-prooflove]

"I've been losing so much time" for Hangman please!! 🥺

Tagging: @kmc1989 @dizzybee03 @shanimallina87 @calirindo @consisedictionaryofmistakes

Companion piece to:

Set Up To Fail - Jake reflects on how his past affects his future.

The Other Family - Jake didn't realise his father was still alive...

Jake loses track of how long he spends sitting in front of his father’s house, his gaze fixed on him and his family. He watches as the man who sold him, sits at the dining table, helping the twins with their homework while a woman whose not his mom, tidies up around them.

It would be fascinating he thinks, if it didn’t feel so fucking surreal.

It’s the sound of the passenger door opening that jerks him out of his trance, that and the bark of greeting that erupts from Cujo as he jumps into the car ahead of you, jamming his cold nose against Jake’s cheek.

“Cujo, away!” You command, clicking your fingers and gesturing to the back seat. The German Shepard obeys, slipping through the gap, whining as he stands on the cushioning.

“You didn’t need to come here.” Jake says, his attention diverting back to the house, to his father ruffling one of the twin’s hair.

“Jake, you didn’t come home.” You say softly. “The Find My Friend’s app tells me you’ve been sitting outside this house for three hours. I came to make sure you hadn’t been murdered and buried in the basement.”

It’s a weak joke that would have made him laugh in any other circumstance but it falls flat because Jake, he doesn’t feel anything at the moment. There’s just this crushing numbness in his chest, eating up his insides.

“That man in there, he’s my father.” He tells you, his hands coming to rest on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white as he grips it. “And he has another family, one with a wife and two sons who he helps with their homework.”

That weight of that statement, it’s not lost on you. You know his history, the horrible fucking shit he’s had to overcome to get where he is today. Those scars, he lives with them on a daily basis and the man who caused them, he’s completely unaffected.

“I can’t seem to leave.” He tells you, his voice breaking. “I keep telling myself I’m going to but I just can’t make myself turn on the engine. It’s like my brain won’t cooperate with my body…”

You understand in that moment that he’s dissociated completely. That the trauma of seeing his father again has trapped him in this strange sense of depersonalisation. It’s something that happens with PTSD, something you’d experienced yourself after a bullet almost claimed your life.

“Alright.” You say gently. “The first thing you’re going to do is let go of the wheel. Can you do that for me?”

It takes him a couple of seconds but he relinquishes his grasp on the steering wheel before you help him unbuckle his seatbelt.

“What now?” He asks, tilting his head towards you.

There’s such exhaustion in his features, such devastation. Seeing his father again has ravaged every single inch of Jake’s soul and he’s looking to you for guidance because this nightmare, it’s just too big to process right now.

“You get into the back seat with Cujo and I’ll drive the three of us home.” You say kindly and Jake nods his head despondently before he opens the car door and does as requested. You climb into the driver’s seat, adjusting the rearview mirror just in time to see Cujo place his head in Jake’s lap, his soulful dark eyes staring up at his favourite  person.

“It's alright.” He whispers to the dog, his palm lightly stroking over the German Shepard’s fur. “Everything’s going to be alright.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[nmakii]

once upon a dream

— yukimiya’s been dreaming about a mysterious girl for a week and a half now. and, you haven’t been able to sleep. what happens when you finally talk? love at first sight.

stp i wrote this insane in like 7 hours icb this is 3.4k words!!! wtf i dont even like yukki that much 😭 this is j word vomit bro AHHAA

you were familiar with the mortal god known as kenyu yukimiya. he was everything your friends wanted in a boyfriend. he was kind, charismatic, gentlemanly, not to mention extremely handsome.

his status as a teenage model and athlete didn’t help his popularity either. girls were always asking him to hang out (hint: ‘hang out’ means ‘date’), to which he always agreed, even offering to pay for them.

that’s just how he was.

and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t fallen under his siren spell too. not when his charming smile kept luring you closer to your death.

but, you could never pull him! not in a million years. with the status quo as it is, you two are in two different worlds.

at least, that’s what you think.

to yukimiya, you were familiar, perhaps even special. he saw you once in passing while you were leaving your classroom, and he suddenly had a sense of deja vu; it was as if he’s already lived this before. it could always just be nothing. it could just be stress since nationals is coming up soon.

but even so, you still catch his eye. he’s always wanted to talk to you, but he’s had the secret anxiety that you wouldn’t be too interested in talking to him. so, he enjoys the short times he see you pass him in the hallway, or coincidentally pick the lunch table beside his in the cafeteria.

but, he still feels as if there’s more to it than just a friend crush. the way you carry yourself, and the tone of your voice— it all makes him feel a familiar way.

his dreams as of late have revolved around a faceless girl. he can never recall her face after he wakes, but he always awakens with a sense that a part of him is missing.

it’s late in the day, 20 minutes before 6 PM. and, training has just finished. yukimiya catches his breath as he takes off his goggles, switching them out for his everyday glasses.

“…see you, guys!” he bids to the rest of his team, taking his leave with his school bag and training gear in hand.

the walk home is silent. before black spots begin to appear in his vision. ‘damn it…’ he thinks, ‘right now of all times..?’. he internally groans before hurrying his pace, quickly making it home.

he takes off his shoes and calls, “mom! i’m home!”.

his mother hums in acknowledgment and responds, “kenyu, we’re having katsu curry for dinner!” ah, that sounds delicious…

“alright..! i’m gonna go lie down for a bit though. my vision is a bit blurry again…” he comes into the kitchen, greeted with the salivating smell of his mother’s homemade curry.

“dear, if that’s the case, go rest for a while. i’ll save you a portion, alright?” his mother smiles. yukimiya frowns a bit but he nonetheless, obeys. “alright, mom. i’ll just take a nap.”

he sighs as he climbs the stairs up to his bedroom, and flops onto his bed. today was exhausting, he almost immediately falls asleep.

he looks around— he’s back at school. the sun outside looks as if it’s about to set, so classes must be over. but, he’s still in a classroom.

he leans on a desk, while the familiar faceless girl sits on one of the chairs. “…hm… so, blueberries improve your eyesight, huh..?” she hums. he’s not quite sure what got him in this moment, but he nods. “that’s right. they strengthen the blood vessels behind the eyes.”

something about her was ethereal, have it be the delicate way she presents herself, or the way her hair gracefully frames her blurred face. whatever it was, the only thing that could come to mind when he saw her painted orange and pink by the setting sun was, ‘divine’.

“hah, maybe you’d benefit better from chocolate-covered blueberries rather than chocolate-covered strawberries then.” she snickers.

“ahah, i wouldn’t hate that too much… why not?” he shrugs, laughing as well. there’s a scary tension in his shoulders, he feels pretty stiff. he feels pretty nervous— it feels like dread, but at the same time as if he has swallowed a kaleidoscope of butterflies, fluttering their way into his heart.

“really? maybe i’ll get you a box of chocolate-covered blueberries for valentines’ day then!” she innocuously proclaims this, unknown to the fact that yukimiya’s heart gets caught in his throat.

“i..is that so? i guess that just means i’ll have to return the favor on white day.” he hums, retrieving his school bag and training gear which had been thrown carelessly on a random desk.

his body was moving, but not to his mind’s command. why was he leaving?

he turned his back to face the mysterious girl again. a lithe hand moves to cover her mouth as she yawns, small pearlescent tears forming atop her lower eyelid.

her speech gets slurred. and his dream fades to black.

when yukimiya awakens, it’s 1:14 AM. talk about an after-school nap…

he scowls. his dream ended so suddenly, he has the desire for closure to give rest to the many ‘what if’ scenarios for what she could have said. ‘what was she going to say? was she asking why i was leaving?’ he wonders.

putting his disappointment aside, yukimiya decides to go and shower first. he leaves his room and goes into the bathroom beside the stairs to shower. all before changing into some clean clothes.

putting on a clean t-shirt, yukimiya sighs. clean clothes felt good. his stomach gurgles, and he groans at the sound. he did sleep for 7 hours. he shouldn’t be too shocked that he’s starved.

making his way down the stairway, he goes into the kitchen and finds a plate of katsu curry and rice being covered by one of his mother’s large baking bowls. there’s condensation of steam dripping from the metallic bowl from when the dish had been warm. the katsu by now has lost its’ crunch after absorbing the curry, and the rice isn’t quite as sticky anymore.

it’s not ideal, but yukimiya doesn’t have it in himself to complain. he can’t do anything about it anyways.

he throws the plate into the microwave to heat for two minutes. and as the dish spins on the microwave’s glass plate, his mind wanders back to his dream. now, he could only vaguely recall details, but he knew that it felt real. the sensation of his school bag’s rough fabric, and the sound of her melodic voice pouring into his ears— it all felt real.

the microwave beeps, and his train of thought is quickly stopped as he takes his food out of the microwave, and sits lonely at the dining table.

‘geez, this is depressing…’ he internally sighs. he might as well stay up until he has to get ready for school.

in another home however, you’ve only fallen asleep. you’d been closing your eyes, as well as tossing and turning in your bed for about 3 hours now, unable to fall asleep. you’ve tried everything— sleep ASMRs, melatonin candies… but, none of them have been able to help you sleep earlier.

it’s been like this for a week and a half now. you’ve noticed the dark circles under your eyes are much more pronounced now, making you resemble an undead creature, rather than a high school student.

your friends have been teasing you with a corny, deluded saying— “if you can’t sleep, then it’s probably because there’s someone dreaming about you.”, they say. what nonsense! it was more likely that it’s the stress of your projects, than someone dreaming about you.

nonetheless, you simply relish in the fact that you’re now asleep. not dreaming about anything in particular, just having a sort of good night’s sleep.

you groan when your alarm on your phone goes off. it sounds like an emergency alert system alarm. your father suggested after the first two times you were late last week due to oversleeping. your hand mindlessly moves, looking to turn off the irritating noise.

when it’s finally off, you lie in your bed for an extra minute or two. your body feels so stiff, everything hurts…

your heavy eyes open once again, and you turn your head far enough to see your phone and check the time. 6:18, did you oversleep for 20 minutes? you should get ready soon…

you reluctantly get out from your comfortable bed and stretch, cracking all the stiff bones in your body. you go about your daily routine and go on your way to school. you walk hurriedly, in hopes of taking a quick cat nap before classes start.

that hope is sadly not reached, as you only arrive just about a minute or two before the bell rings.

you manage to soldier through the day, staying up and diligently taking notes, as well as taking a very well-deserved nap during lunch. it really is a feat— for you, at least.

the day goes by horrifyingly slow, and having to stay late for club these days is a nightmare. as much as you want to say you’ve been putting all your effort into club activities, you really have been idling through until the time runs out.

sitting in one of the desks, you’re chatting with one of your club mates as your club president approaches you, “ah, sorry to bother you, but there’s a box on my desk in classroom 3-6, could you get it for me please..? i’m a bit busy to do it myself..” she explains.

“hm..? ah, sure. don’t worry.” you nod in response. she sighs, relieved that you aren’t too annoyed. “yay! thank you!” she hums, and you set on your way to classroom 3-6.

you climb your way up to the third floor, and let yourself inside the classroom. you quickly identify your president’s desk by the large box filled with goodies. “oh?” an airy yet warm voice hums. “what are you doing here?”

you turn your back and see yukimiya; bags in hand and everything..! “ah, hey..!” you awkwardly greet him. you’re not quite sure what you should say. “just… doing a favor. what about you?”

“i just forgot my lunchbox before i went down for training.” he hums, quickly grabbing his aforementioned lunchbox. at the mention of a lunchbox, you perk up. you hadn’t eaten at lunch, so you were awfully hungry. “ah..! you looked at me the second i mentioned my lunchbox!” he chuckled. “are you hungry? all i have is some packaged snacks.” he warns. he carelessly drops his school bag and training gear on another desk, and starts to move in your direction. all whilst opening the lunchbox, looking for something that you could to snack on.

you awkwardly laugh, embarrassed that he caught you. “honestly, i’ll take anything… thanks, yukimiya.” you graciously take the packaged rice cracker snack from his hands. yukimiya hums, “call me yukki; my friends call me that, and it’s much less formal too.”

your eyes go down, downcast to avoid eye contact.

a popular boy just told you to call him a nickname his friends call him..! is this what it’s like to have a love life..?!

as your eyes remain low, you catch a glimpse of a stained container, it looks as if barney the dinosaur had died in it. “what did you have for your recess? it looks messy…” you bluntly ask, not even thinking that it was probably a bit weird to ask.

“oh? i just had some blueberries. they were pretty lukewarm by the time break time came, though..! some of them got crushed. hence, the mess…” he laughs.

“blueberries? …i’ve never really liked the taste. or… it’s more like the lack of taste…” you place the box on a random desk and sit on a chair. you could kill some time, club was technically over anyways. he raises an eyebrow at your words, “really? i think they’re pretty good. plus, they help with my eyesight.”

“your eyesight? is it that bad? i feel like i only started seeing you wear glasses about two months ago.” yukimiya looks hesitant to answer, you probably crossed some sensitive territory…

“ah… not exactly… i guess, i just want to maintain my vision as it is. so it won’t get worse, is all.” he explains, and you nod. “ah, that makes sense.”

there’s an awkward moment of silence. where do you go from this..?

“…hm… so, blueberries improve your eyesight, huh..?” you clarify, hoping that he’d go into further detail. he pauses for a second. his muscles grow tense, as if he has realized something. but, he nods. “that’s right. they strengthen the blood vessels behind the eyes.”

he’s lived this before. his nails claw on the desk, itching to ground himself to reality.

this isn’t a dream.

this is real life.

and, he’s finally talking to the faceless girl.

like in his dream, he turns his head, and sees you painted orange and pink by the fading sunset. you look even more exquisite now that he can see and recognize your face. your eyes shine in contrast to the setting sun, and your lips quiver, as you try to think of something to say.

your hair is a bit more messier than in his dream. and your posture is quite stiff— no, awkward is a better word. your frame is awkward and anxious, he thinks. but, you still look just as divine as he dreamed you to be.

“hah, maybe you’d benefit better from chocolate-covered blueberries rather than chocolate-covered strawberries then.” you laugh.

“ahah, i wouldn’t hate that too much… so, why not?” he shrugs. again, that pesky nervousness in his shoulders is back. seeing the girl he has, quite literally, dreamed of for a week and a half now is something he’s wanted for a while now. his rose-tinted view of the mysterious girl is makes him feel nervous now that he’s met you.

“ah..!” you audibly gasp, “really? maybe i’ll get you a box of chocolate-covered blueberries for valentines’ day then!” you joke.

he’s heard those exact words before already, but it still flustered him.

i..is that so? heh, i guess that just means i’ll have to return the favor on white day.” he laughs. it’s getting late. the teachers are gonna lock the classroom doors soon, so the two of you should probably leave. he grabs his school bag and training gear, as well as his lunchbox.

you seem to get the hint, and stand up as well. you yawn, covering your mouth to save yourself some dignity, and small tears form in your eyes. “ahh… anyway, i have to take this down to my club room… i’ll see you, yukki.” you bid goodbye, trying on the new nickname for size.

but, yukimiya’s not ready to say goodbye just yet.

“ahh.. do you want me to carry that for you..? you seem pretty tired, so…” he wanders off, “are you okay?”

you reluctantly let him carry the box, and the two of you begin to walk down the stairs to your clubroom. “yeah, i’m alright… i just haven’t been sleeping well.” you hum, “i’ve tried basically everything… but, i can’t seem to sleep.”, you sigh.

“ah, seems annoying… but, i can’t do much to fix that. sorry…” he responds. his response seems a bit absent-minded though, as if he wasn’t focusing on what he said.

that was because his attention was directed to the lack of distance between the two of you. he’s been this close to other girls before… but, being close to you seems to make his heart pound right outside of his chest.

“eh, it’s not your fault. don’t worry to much about it.” you wave it off, as if it was a minor inconvenience.

the rest of the walk was uncomfortably silent but soon enough, you’re at your club room. you graciously open the door for yukimiya, which lets him get inside easily and place the box on a nearby table.

“heh… thanks, superman.” you smile. and yukimiya’s eyes move to avoid contact, embarrassed by the nickname. “oh, uhh… it really wasn’t a problem, so don’t worry about it.” he awkwardly laughs.

“i didn’t keep you too long, did i?” you ask. he’s not too sure what else he could’ve been busy with, but he’s touched by your concern. “nope, don’t worry too much.” he chides.

“just a habit, hehe…” you explain yourself as you move to grab your own school bag. “a—anyways, i’ll see you, yukki..!” you bid him goodbye for the second time today, waving your hand goodbye.

but again, yukimiya still isn’t quite ready to say goodbye.

“oh— do you want me to walk you home..?” he offers, quite forwardly, at that.

your face scrunches at his offer, anxious to be taking up so much of his time today, “n..no, that’s asking too much now… it’s fine, don’t worry too, okay?” you laugh, throwing back his own advice.

yukimiya scoffs, recognizing his own hypocrisy. he’s a bit saddened by the fact that you rejected his offer, but he has to respect your decision. “alright… then, maybe you wanna… hang out sometime..?” he sounds nervous. he’s never had to be the one asking someone out, so he doesn’t know how to ask someone to ‘hang out’.

“i..i can pay too if money’s a concern. i’m the one who’s asking you out after all, it’s only fair.” he rationalized. you mull it over for a quick minute, and you finally respond, “sure, but you really don’t have to do all that..! it’s not like this would be a date…” you reassure him.

for some reason, that last part hurt. he wishes that it was a date. his shoulders visually slum down in disappointment, but there’s still a sense of hope to his expression.

he’s willing to put time into this. he wants to know more about you; know why you’re appearing in his dreams. he nods, “yeah, that’s fair enough… are you free this saturday? we can just go around the city.”

“mhm. sounds like a plan.” you nod.

he grins, “great. i’ll see you—,” he pauses. he never asked about your name..! here he was disappointed about dates, and wanting to know more about you, but he doesn’t even know what your name is..! he should probably just disappear, this is too embarrassing. there’s no recovering from this—

“s/o.”

what?

“my name is s/o.” you inform him.

yukimiya snaps out of his humiliated state long enough to respond, “ah, i see..! my mistake for not ever asking for your name. heh, i guess i just got a bit too comfortable.” you laugh at his scatterbrainedness, and wave it off. “it’s fine, i got a bit comfortable too, so i forgot to tell you my name.”

he’s glad that you also felt comfortable with him, but he has a feeling that you have a different meaning for comfortable…

he felt as if he’s already known you. but, you simply thought of him as a schoolmate that you’re familiar with. it was his mistake for thinking of you as the faceless girl from his dreams, rather than the much more lifelike girl that stood before him.

“right… well, i’ll see you, s/o.” he smiles as he waves goodbye, his smile much wider than it had been before he met you in that classroom. you nod, waving goodbye as well. “yeah! bye, yukki!”

the two of you walk toward the school exit together before finally parting ways, leaving yukimiya feeling as if he’s separated with a part of him.

it was odd that he’s already this attached to you. but, maybe that was just because of the fact that the two of you just naturally clicked. or, the fact that he’s seen and talked with your faceless self in ephemeral periods when time stood still— all of it in romantic, rose-tinted glasses.

the moment he came home, he has just been a ticking time bomb, waiting for the moment he can see you again. he’s never felt quite as nervous as he does right now.

his heart feels like a heavy weight in his chest, making it difficult to breathe. he can’t have a crush on you already… can he?

it’s a question that haunts yukimiya as he lies in bed, anxious and unable to sleep.

and for the first time in a while, you have a good night’s rest.