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nmakii · 3 months ago

Text

must be love

— you find sae’s phone opened, and you decide to snoop.

or; sae gets exposed for being a fake idgafer. this is too sappy. 2.7k words, this is my longest fic in my whole life… what life feels like as a girl who loves too much core

tags: @narcjsistx

— for @itoshiluvbot. love ya, partner.

‘she seems really eager to please,

but she has quite the backbone.’

you huff out in frustration. “ah!! ugh…” you scowl. sae raises his eyebrow. “my groupmate never started on her share of the work… ugh, now i have to cram it..!” you explain your sudden outburst. sae scoffs. “then tell your teacher or something. it’s not like i can do anything about it, im not your teacher.” he, quite obviously, points out. “wh… ugh, i’m gonna… i just— needed to let out my anger.” you groan, face planting and screaming into your textbook. and he hums in response. although he didn’t show it on his face, your outburst was quite out of character for the person he had grown to know. it was… weird, to say the least. and it had caused him to make a mental note not to anger you.

‘her generosity knows no bounds.’

“sae, this is for you. merry christmas!” you hand him a wrapped box. “hm..? i don’t take christmas gifts.” he bluntly states. “i haven’t gotten any gifts since i was 10 years old.” you scoff to yourself. “maybe that’s why you’ve always got that stick in your ass.” you tease. “excuse me?” he glares daggers at you. “aaaanyway! open it!” you shove the box into his hands. he looks at the box, and then at you, and he decides to open it. “new cleats.” he acknowledges. yes, mhm. these were indeed cleats..! “i didn’t need these, i was going to buy them myself.” he states.

“i know, you could probably buy them yourself. but, i thought i’d save you the hassle, y’know?” how thoughtful of you. he eyes the cleats up and down; it’s an expensive brand, but it’s worth the price for the quality. “…thanks.” he says, at last. he didn’t expect a gift from you, he doesn’t have one prepared for you. he’ll make sure to buy you something you’ll love later. “oh! hold on, i wanted to give you some other things ♪~” you fish a keychain and envelope out of your bag and hand it to him.

“…cinnamoroll..?” he questions. “it’s cute right? i thought you’d like it.” what an odd way of thinking… never once has he mentioned anything about cinnamoroll. but then again, it is pretty cute. “…well, i won’t say i hate it. thank you.” he thanks you as he eyes the envelope. “ah, don’t read it in front of me..! i got a bit sappy, it’s pretty. embarrassing…” you awkwardly laugh. “ah, got it.”

later that day, he opened the envelope. there was a letter; it had cute doodles all over. and, he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t feel your affection radiating off the letter. it was… really sweet.

‘what a beautiful human being she is.’

itoshi sae is what you like to call a shy lover, if you were to put it kindly.

you know for a fact that he loves you, he just isn’t good at verbally expressing it. words of affection are too sappy for him. he prefers to show it through the thoughtfulness of his gifts, and the longing touches of his hands, which seem to never leave your’s.

you know he loves you. but, you can’t help but wish for him to say it more often.

it wasn’t many nights lately that the two of you would have a date night. with sae’s rigorous training schedule and endless interviews, the only thing he wants to do at night is to fall asleep beside you.

however, today was the end of the season. meaning, sae would have much more free-time for you.

with sae’s last game for the year completed in 0-4, the first thing he had to do was call you. even though you weren’t far away at all, sitting in the VIP lounge with the relatives and girlfriends of sae’s teammates.

“s/o?” he calls your attention. “mhm? congratulations on your win, babe! i knew you’d win.” you congratulate him. “they could barely keep the ball when they had it. is it really an achievement for me to have won this match?” he says, almost sassily. “pssh— alright. i get it, mr. ‘tepid.’.” you tease.

“don’t call me that.” he huffs. “stay where you are. i’ll go to you.” he commands. you hum in acknowledgment, and he hangs up.

he doesn’t keep you waiting too long before showing up. “there you are…” he sighs in relief, kissing you as his hands automatically find themselves on your body— one tangled in your hair, and the other resting on the curve of your spine.

once he finds the will in himself to finally pull away, he’s breathless.

he looks like he wants to say something, but he holds himself back, his fingers flowing through your hair. “…get ready for our date later tonight, yeah? formal wear.”

you nod, and his lips curl upward. “i’ll see you later.”

you decided to go all out, pull all the brakes. and when sae picks you up in his car, he can’t help thinking that you look like a dream. ‘are you sure you aren’t a model?’ he muses to himself. his heart twists, and the fat of his cheeks redden with affection. your hair flows like silk, and that glimmer in your eyes was once a star, handpicked from the skies, he’s sure of it.

everything about you encourages him to keep staring, but he manages to get ahold of himself. “…you…look beautiful.” is the only thing he can get himself to say. but, beautiful doesn’t seem to encapsulate it, not at all. it’s not even close. beautiful is only a fraction of what he thinks. “heh, you think so?” you ask. “yeah; beautiful.” he assures. “let’s go.” he says, barely turning his attention away from you as he turns to the road.

the drive to the restaurant is quiet, but sae’s mind is screaming at him. his eyes can’t stop moving back to take sneaky glances of you. he drinks up your beauty like a serpent, and he still hasn’t had his fill.

“…we’re here.” he pulls the shift into its’ brake. he gets out, and hands his keys to the valet boy— his words are inaudible through the car door, but he quickly finishes his conversation and moves to open your car door.

you take your first step out, and his hand immediately moves to help you out. god, you might be even prettier under the gleam of moonlight, shining like the pearl of the planet.

his arm moves and snakes around your waist, guiding you into the restaurant under the flash of paparazzi cameras. he grimaces at the loud, pitchy voices of news interviewers, begging for a comment; anything for a headline quote.

the gentle touch of his fingers tighten, as he silently encourages you to walk faster, and lose the crowd. the two of you hurry up, and dash into the restaurant, where you’re greeted with a dim candlelight, mahogany walls, and the rhythmic trumpet of jazz.

“welcome, mr. itoshi.” the receptionist greets. “your table for two is right this way.” she quickly guides the two of you into a secluded part of the restaurant, just like he’s always done as to make sure neither of you are spotted and harassed in public.

lamps hang on the walls, creating a romantic atmosphere. and the curved dark-brown leather booth couch perfectly complements the dark oak roundtable.

the date isn’t too different from the others. the two of you chat about anything that comes to mind. but, it’s actually more like it’s just you chattering on, and sae listening as he admires that excited grin on your face.

on the outside looking in, it’s obvious how he has heart eyes when he stares at you. he’s in a trance as he listens to the rich honeying sweetness of your voice; his finger traces the lines on the roundtable, wishing that it’d be the crinkles of your smile he’s tracing when he blinks and opens his eyes again.

his trance is broken though, when his phone rings. damn it, he forgot to put his phone on do not disturb… “something wrong?” you ask sae, and he takes his phone out of his pocket. “not sure. there shouldn’t be a problem, i cancelled everything for tonight. ugh… just a second, amor…” he remorsefully takes your hand in his as a silent gesture of apology. he took too long to pick up the phone, it already went out…

he opened his call app, and saw that it was from his publicist, dabadie. he groaned before picking up.

“sae! you didn’t mention that you’d be going out on a date today, your paparazzi shot is already all over social medias..!” he worriedly stammers. “i didn’t? well, whatever… it’s just a date photo anyway.” sae shrugs, speaking quietly to ensure that you don’t hear. “right— but… you know the internet… they might criticize you, and say that she’s distracting you from soccer…”

sae is about to correct him— he’s about to say that you aren’t distracting him from his career, but he holds back once he remembers that you’re right beside him, eagerly waiting for his attention to be back on you.

“i… have to speak to you for a second, im already outside the restaurant… the paparazzi didn’t censor out the location well enough either… so, the agency’s security car will follow you two home…” he adds on. sae sighs. “i have to speak to you too. i’ll meet you outside.” he hangs up. he huffs in exasperation and shallowly drops his phone, making it clatter on the table; the screen is left open on his call record. “im sorry, amor… i have to quickly take care of something, i’ll be back soon, i promise.” he kisses your hand.

“hmph, don’t worry. it’s dabadie, right? he’s always worried about something…” you laugh. of course you’d be understanding about it. you always understood. “heh, that he is.” he sasses before leaving the table.

…and you can’t help but notice that his phone is still open.

his phone is practically yelling at you, “check out what’s on me, s/o! check it out right now!”, and you simply can’t resist the temptation to!

first, you simply scroll around at his call record; nothing too interesting, it’s filled with calls from dabadie, and you. as well as occasional calls from his mom. how tepid, as sae would put it. you exit the app, and find his home screen wallpaper to be a picture he took of you; you’re looking out into the distance, the large castle of sleeping beauty in the background.

you smile to yourself at that cute photo, and move to his photos; it’s filled with photos of you, and almost none of him— not unless you were beside him. you scroll down to check out his older photos; they’re childhood pictures, only a few of them are with rin included.

…

…anyways, ‘what is in sae itoshi’s notes app?’, you ponder. you open his notes app.

‘things i want to eat: 1. omelette, 2. paella, 3. pesto pasta’

‘onitsuka tiger mexico - kill bill/grey, new balance 2002r - grey, asics gel NYC - oyster grey’

‘laundry’

‘i love you’

you laugh at the randomness of his notes, quickly scrolling through them. it’s true when they say that a boy’s notes is truly random.

but that last note catches your eye. it’s a pretty odd note that just says ‘i love you’ with no additional text. and, it makes you wonder.

sae’s an organized person, more or less. so, his notes must be filed too. and, you’re correct. there are three files; ‘lists’, ‘important documents’, and a file with your initial as its’ name.

the other two don’t seem as interesting, nor seem as mysterious. so, you click on the mysterious file.

and, the file is filled with everything about you; he’s written down your birthday (including the time…), your family members’ names, foods you like to eat when you aren’t feeling well, shows that you like to watch… everything.

and, there’s a note that catches your eye. it’s a cut-off sentence, since it was too long. you decide to feed your curiosity and click on the note.

‘she talks to everyone, even the people she doesn’t like.

it takes a lot to piss her off.

she’s always kind to me, after all.

she seems really eager to please, but she has quite the backbone.

she works really hard, but i don’t think many see it.

her generosity knows no bounds, and she always knows what kind of joke to make.

i didn’t think it was possible for a soul to be so beautiful.

nor, that someone like i would meet a soul like her’s.

but, im grateful to the stars above that i met her.

someone as kind as her deserves to receive all the love she gives.

i don’t think she knows how loved she really is though.

what a beautiful human being she is.

there simply isn’t enough words to describe the way her dimples crinkle when she’s happy.

the day she was conceived, the gods must’ve tenderly sculpted her heart out of ivory and gold.

the way she enamors everyone in the room simply by walking inside, and the way her personality shines in her rushed, yet sweet handwriting.

one day, i hope she’ll finally be perpetually happy.

so, that she can always shine that enchanting smile of her’s.

she deserves all of it.’

was this a poem..? it didn’t seem like it, it didn’t rhyme, and the stanzas didn’t have equal amounts of lines… but, the way he worded it out almost made it seem like he was a poet.

you don’t… even know what to think at such a romantic confession. it’s certainly much more than sae has ever verbally said to you. but, the fact that he had written this with you in mind makes your heart pound like crazy.

you’ve always known that sae loves you, but seeing his private thoughts all written out for you to read was… overwhelming.

“going through my texts, amor? i’m not texting any other woman besides you.” sae nonchalantly jokes. shit— time went quicker than you’d thought. “ah, nn… just got a bit curious, babe…” you hum. “what were you looking at..?” he asks, and his eyes widen the moment he sees what you were reading. out of all the things on his phone, that was the last thing he wanted you reading.

he embarrassedly closes his phone. “so… what was all that writing about..? were you trying to be a poet?” you jokingly ask; you knew that sae wasn’t mad, per say… he was probably just embarrassed. “n..no… it was, ah…” he clears his throat. “it was just… something i typed out when i realized i had many observations about you that i needed to write down. i just got sidetracked while i was typing.” he explains.

you smile, your entire body feeling like you’re on fire. the love you feel for sae itoshi feels like too much to contain in your heart. “it was really sweet, sae…” you assure him. for some reason, you have the odd incentive to just… cry right now. you love him so much.

“i know. but, it’s also too sappy.” he huffs. “aw, don’t be so shy… i know you’re just a huge softie under that tough surface…” you tease, moving closer to cuddle up to his side. “im not soft. i just love you, okay?” he groans. “don’t make me say embarrassing things.”

your smile widens, making him look at you with that lovesick look in his eyes. “aww… well, i guess i know how much you love me now anyway, so that’s good enough..!” you mentally fist pump at this small victory.

the atmosphere suddenly feels light again as you start to chatter again, teasing him slightly before going back to what you were speaking about before he had left. and still, sae’s looking at you like you’re the world cup trophy, like you’re all he’s dreamed of.

and sae thinks…

‘…you’ll know how sappy i can get when it’s our wedding day.’

but he should save that for another 5 years, or so.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk #bllk fluff #blue lock sae #bllk x you #bllk x reader #bllk sae #sae itoshi x y/n #sae itoshi x you #sae itoshi #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae #blue lock sae itoshi #sae itoshi imagines #itoshi sae imagines

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melanchoire · 2 months ago

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PRICE OF CONCENTRATION ──── yu jimin

── ( 📓 ) your focus is laser-sharp on the lecture, but your classmate karina, ever the mischievous one, decides boredom is a personal invitation to drive you wild; first with innocent attempts to catch your eye, then escalating to a secret game of teasing touches that slowly melt your resistance, until a shared, unspoken look seals the deal – textbooks forgotten, and the dorm room beckons for a different kind of study.

pairing. switch!student!karina x switch!student!fem reader

warning(s). cunnilingus, fingering, making out, pet names, scissoring.

word count. 4,5k

request. for some reason this request disappeared from my inbox 💔

the bright lights of the lecture hall hummed, a monotonous drone that mirrored the professor’s voice, droning on about something you were sure was important, but karina couldn’t for the life of her care. you, however, were a model of academic focus, a bastion of attentiveness in a sea of glazed—over eyes and restless fidgeting. she watched you, her gaze tracing the neat, precise strokes of your pen as you filled your notebook with information. you were a machine, a perfect student, and it was honestly a little vexing.

you were a study in contrast to her current state. your posture was impeccable, your focus unwavering, your pen moving with a rhythmic precision across the page, capturing every nuance of the lecture. karina’s eyes seemed to trace the smooth lines of your handwriting, the neatness a stark contrast to her own messy scrawl.

she straightened a little, trying to emulate your focus. she leaned forward, eyes darting to the screen where the professor was projecting dense formulas and colorful graphs. you could almost see the struggle in her face, her brow furrowing in concentration as she attempted to follow along. but it was like watching a car try to start on a cold morning, sputtering a few times before succumbing to silence. her concentration faltered, her gaze drifting to the window behind the professor, where a few brave sparrows were flitting about.

karina leaned back in her own chair, stretching her legs out beneath the desk, a silent protest against the suffocating boredom of the class. she crossed her arms over her chest, a gesture that screamed, “i’d rather be anywhere else.” she turned to you again, a small frown creasing her brow as she watched you. how could you be so engaged in this? it was like you were a different species entirely. she tried. oh god, did she try. she tried to mimic you, focusing her attention on the professor, willing herself to absorb the words, the concepts. but it was like trying to grasp water — the harder she tried, the more it slipped through her mental fingers. it was as if her ears were working, registering the sounds of the lecture, but her brain was refusing to process them, like a stubborn computer refusing to run a program. her mind was a tangled mess of “why was she even here?” and “does this really matter?”

giving up, a defeated sigh escaping her lips, she decided to go for a different approach. she scanned your pencil case, a kaleidoscope of brightly coloured pens and highlighters, and plucked out a vibrant purple one. she made a pathetic attempt at taking notes, the pencil scratching against the paper, but her handwriting was a chaotic mess of angles and loops, completely devoid of the neatness you possessed. vague, disconnected words filled the page, interspersed with doodles of abstract shapes and grumpy—looking faces.

boredom gnawed at her, a restless beast demanding attention. she turned towards you, poking your arm with the end of the pen. she wanted to talk, she wanted your attention, she wanted anything but this agonizing lecture. you didn't even look up. you knew what it meant. she was like a bored child, seeking attention, eager to find someone to share her misery with. you continued to transcribe the professor’s words, unfazed.

you didn’t miss a beat of the professor’s monotone, your hand still moving across the page. karina felt an inexplicable urge of annoyance bubbling up within her. then came the poke again, this time a little harder. she was persistent, you had to give her that. still, you refused to acknowledge her. so, she poked you again, a third time this time, it was quick as if giving you the pencil. that’s when you reached out, taking the pencil from her fingers. you didn’t even break eye contact with the professor. you didn’t see the small scoff that escaped her lips, the way her eyes narrowed in playful frustration.

she wasn’t going to be brushed off that easily. karina reached for the cord of your headphones, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. she yanked it from your ears, the soft humming of the song you were listening to floating into the air, a low, rhythmic pulse. you finally turned to look at her, one eyebrow arched in a silent question. karina knew that look. she was going to get a lecture about class soon if she didn’t diffuse this now. she’ll take the risk. she loved when she got you going.

you gave her a light punch on the arm, just a playful tap, but it still stung a little. “pay attention.” you mouthed, your voice low, a clear line drawn in the sand, but she couldn’t help but notice the slightest hint of a smile at the corner of your lips.

“class is boring.” she retorted, hitting you back in the arm, a little harder this time. “i’m bored.”

“well, if you paid attention, you might not be.” you whispered back, a hint of exasperation in your eyes, but it was clear you weren’t actually mad.

“you’re weird for actually liking this.” she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief. you chuckled lightly.

“you know i like learning.” you said. “It’s not my fault you can't focus for five seconds.”

“hey!” she exclaimed, her voice a little louder this time, drawing a quick glare from the professor. you exchanged a quick look, a silent agreement that she had pushed it, before you returned to your notes, effectively shutting her out.

for a good five minutes, she was silent. you figured she had finally run out of energy. then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw her pick up a pen and begin to write in her notebook. “okay.” you thought, that’s unexpected. you didn’t let it distract you, though, because you were focused on the next set of formulas.

that is, until you felt it. a touch, feather—light, on the side of your knee. you glanced down, your heart doing an unexpected leap in your chest. karina’s hand, warm and soft, was resting there, seemingly innocent. she was still writing in her notebook, her attention appearing to be fixed on the professor, but that hand, though, was doing more than just resting.

you tried to dismiss it. maybe she was just being absent—minded, maybe she didn’t realize she was touching you. but then the hand started to move, inching upwards slowly, tracing the curve of your leg as it went, the subtle graze of her fingers sending shivers up your spine. it reached your thigh, the warmth of her palm making your skin tingle.

you shifted slightly. surely she would stop now. it was a blatant invasion of your space, and you were certain she was doing it on purpose. but no, the hand kept moving, its fingers now pressing gently into your flesh. it was heading higher, angling to slip under the hem of your skirt.

your breath caught in your throat. the lecture faded into background noise, the formulas on the screen becoming a blur. your heart was pounding in your chest. you could feel the blood rushing to your face, your cheeks getting warmer, and you were sure you were turning as red as a tomato. you glanced sideways to meet her eyes, not before letting out a small cough, trying to sound as subtle as possible.

“karina.” you hissed in a low, barely audible whisper, a warning laced in your breath. you tried to sound stern, but there was a tremor in your voice that was quite embarrassing. her gaze flickered from her notebook to meet yours, the corner of her lips twitching upwards in a knowing smirk. she raised an eyebrow, as if to say “what?”, her eyes wide and innocent.

“stop.” you mouthed, your voice barely a breath.

she simply shook her head, her fingers now almost touching the edge of your skirt, and whispered back, “pay attention.” her voice an innocent whisper that barely reached your ears. the smirk never left her face, the mischievous glint in her eyes telling you everything. she was playing with you, teasing you, testing your patience. and you had a feeling she was enjoying every second of it.

karina’s hand, a warm, persistent weight on your knee, was the culprit. it had started subtly, a gentle brush, and had gradually escalated, inching higher with each passing minute.

it was a battle against your own body, a struggle to focus on the quadratic equations scribbled on the chalkboard when karina’s hand rested, bold and possessive, on your thigh. it wasn’t just on your thigh, not really. her fingers were creeping higher, inching towards the hem of your skirt, the whisper of fabric against skin sending shivers that had nothing to do with the overly air—conditioned room.

now, her fingers were perilously closer to the edge of your skirt, threatening to slip beneath and find the delicate lace of your panties. your breath hitched. you couldn’t focus on the teacher’s droning lecture; every nerve ending was screaming under the tantalizing pressure of her touch.

a simple glance, a fleeting lock of your eyes with hers, was all it took. you saw the same anticipation mirrored in their depths, a shared understanding of the unspoken desires crackling in the air between you. a silent promise of something more, something that couldn’t happen within the confines of the brightly lit classroom.

you knew the dance by now; the way her eyes, dark and mischievous, met yours, a coded language spoken only between the two of you. it was a simple exchange, a silent understanding of the desire that simmered beneath the surface.

you were barely registering the teacher’s droning voice, your attention consumed by the escalating heat radiating from karina’s touch. your breath hitched, a small, involuntary gasp that you hoped went unnoticed. you glanced at her, a question in your eyes, and her answering smirk sent a thrill through you. it was time.

karina’s voice, smooth as honey and laced with a playful urgency, cut through the monotonous lecture. “excuse me, mr. kim?” she called, her hand still firmly planted on your thigh. your skin prickled with anticipation. “i think that… well, maybe we should go to the bathroom. she’s not feeling too well.”

all eyes turned to you. you felt your face flush even more, a blush that wasn’t entirely faked. the combination of karina’s touch and the sudden attention had your heart hammering against your ribs. you felt the familiar clamminess of your palms, and the slight sheen of sweat on your forehead was real enough, lending truth to karina’s claim. the teacher, a middle—aged man who barely registered his students beyond the first row, glanced at you with a perfunctory frown. “you alright, miss…?” he squinted, searching his register your face.

you could feel the heat rising more in your cheeks, mirroring the flush you already felt from karina’s touch. you pressed your lips together, trying to look convincingly ill. a slight sweat dampened your forehead, the nervousness and anticipation adding to the charade. you gave a weak little cough, hoping it added to the effect.

mr. kim, ever the gullible academic, peered at you with concern. “oh my, you do look a bit pale. are you alright?”

you managed a feeble nod, grateful for the dramatic flare that karina had instigated. “yes, just a bit lightheaded.”

he seemed convinced enough. “alright, go along then. but don’t take too long.” he dismissed you with a wave of his hand, turning back to the whiteboard, utterly unaware of the charade playing out before him.

you practically bolted from your seat, grateful for the reprieve. you expected karina to lead you toward the bathrooms or the infirmary down the corridor, but instead, she took your hand again, her grip firm, and guided you in the opposite direction, toward the dormitories. a thrill shot through you. you glanced at her, raising an eyebrow in question.

“the infirmary is that way.” you murmured, a hesitant question hovering in your tone.

“we’re not going to the stupid infirmary right now. of course, we’ll get there, don’t worry.” karina replied, her hand now resting on your lower back, guiding you forward. “but first things first.” she said, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “my room is closer. we can… recharge there."

“but what about class?” you asked, trying not to let your voice betray your excitement.

karina winked. “after the fun, we'll go to the infirmary, get a note. problem solved. you’re still 'sick', after all.” she said, emphasizing the last word with a mischievous lift of her brow. “we’ll get a medical certificate, and we can give it to your professor.”

“he’ll probably notice that there’s a big time difference between when we left the classroom and when we went to the infirmary. and he’ll wonder why it took us so long to get to the infirmary after we left class.” you pointed out, trying to sound like you were trying to be responsible, even though your heart was already racing at the prospect of what was about to happen.

“we’ll say that we were in the bathroom because you were nauseous or you went to wet your face and cool off. or maybe even that you felt dizzy and almost fainted? i don’t know, but we’ll figure something out.” she says, her grin growing at the look of disbelief on your face. karina bit her lip, her eyes sparkling. “too extreme, isn’t it? well… how about we just say we went out onto the terrace or something because you needed some fresh air? maybe we can even blame it on the awful school lunch, if he still asks.” she added, her voice laced with amusement. “he never pays attention anyway.”

you couldn’t help but laugh, any lingering doubts swiftly melting away under her infectious energy. as you approached her dorm door, you noticed a name tag next to it. “wait, what about your roommate?” you asked, remembering the other girl whose name you vaguely recalled being “giselle”.

karina chuckled, pushing the door open and waves a dismissive hand. “don’t worry about her. she hasn't been in the dorm since the party last weekend. she always crashes at someone’s place after parties… she’s probably sleeping off a hangover at her boyfriend’s place. i haven’t seen her around since then, at least.” you had to admit, you had expected her to be there. you found yourself thanking her party habits internally. “don’t worry about her. let’s just focus on what matters, okay?”

she pulled you into the room, the door clicking shut behind you, and suddenly, you were alone. the room was neat, a stark contrast to the controlled chaos of karina’s personality. it smelled faintly of vanilla and something uniquely hers, a scent that made your senses swim.

but the air in the small space crackled with a palpable tension. karina turned, her eyes locking with yours, and all the words, the worries, the questions, evaporated.

she reached for you, her hands cupping your face, her thumbs tracing the line of your jaw, and you were lost. her lips met yours, a soft, gentle pressure that quickly deepened into a hungry kiss. you tasted her, the sweet tang of her lip gloss, the warmth of her mouth, and you melted into the sensation.

your hands moved, finding their way to her shoulders, pulling her closer, desperate for any skin-to-skin contact. her fingers tangled in your hair, gently tugging as she deepened the kiss, and you moaned into her mouth, the sound raw and unfiltered.

the world narrowed to the feel of her lips on yours, the soft gasp of her breath mingling with your own. you could feel her body pressed against yours, the soft curves of her hips and the firm press of her chest, sending shivers of desire through you. you could practically feel her grin against your lips, as if she was just as giddy as you were.

but of course, you two couldn’t stay as two lovey—dovey people for long.

now the kiss was hot, demanding, a release of all the pent—up tension that had been simmering between you since earlier in class. her hands, now free from the confines of your skirt, tangled in your hair, deepening the kiss. you leaned into her, your body pressing against hers, the soft texture of her shirt against your skin igniting a fire within you.

karina broke the kiss, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. she was a sight to behold, dark eyes shining, cheeks flushed, lips swollen and red: an absolute goddess. “wow.” she whispered, her voice husky. “that’s... more than i was expecting.”

you, a little flustered still, managed a breathy laugh. “better than boring classes, right?”

she grinned, a flash of white teeth against her flushed face. “absolutely. come here.” she murmured.

she grabbed your wrist and practically dragged you towards her bed, her nails digging into your skin. as soon as you two reached it, she pushed you down onto the mattress, crawling over you with a predatory grace.

she straddled your hips, her knees on either side of your thighs as she loomed over you. her hands gripped the hem of your shirt and in one swift motion, she yanked it up and over your head, tossing it carelessly to the side. she took a moment to admire your bared skin, her eyes roaming over your curves hungrily.

leaning down, she pressed her lips to your collarbone, her tongue tracing the delicate bone before she nipped at your skin. her teeth grazed your neck, leaving a trail of red marks in her wake as she made her way up to your jawline.

she captured your bottom lip between her teeth, tugging on it gently before soothing the sting with her tongue. she kissed you deeply, passionately, pouring all her lust and desire into the kiss. her hands slid down your sides, her fingers splaying across your ribcage.

karina’s hands slid further down, her fingers hooking into the waistband of your skirt. with a wicked grin, she tugged them down your legs, taking your panties with them. she tossed the pleated fabric and lace aside, leaving you bare and exposed beneath her.

she took a moment to admire your naked form, her eyes darkening with unbridled lust. she licked her lips, her gaze lingering on the juncture between your thighs. slowly, teasingly, she ran a finger along your slit, feeling the slick heat gathering there.

“fuck, baby, you’re so wet already.” she purred, her voice low and dripping with desire. “i’ve barely touched you and you're already dripping for me. such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

she circled your clit with the pad of her thumb, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp. her other hand slid up your stomach to your breast, kneading the soft flesh roughly. she pinched your nipple between her fingers, rolling the hardened nub between them.

karina leaned down, her hot breath ghosting over your aching core. she inhaled deeply, the scent of your arousal filling her nostrils. a low, approving moan rumbled in her throat before she dragged her tongue along your slit, tasting your essence.

”mmmh, you taste even better than i imagined.” she murmured, her voice vibrating against your sensitive flesh. she circled your clit with the tip of her tongue before suckling on the hardened bud, sending jolts of electricity through your body.

she dipped a finger into your entrance, pumping it in and out of your tight channel. she curled it upwards, stroking that special spot inside you that made your toes curl. her thumb continued its relentless assault on your clit, rubbing quick, tight circles around it.

karina could feel your walls fluttering around her finger, your body tensing as she brought you closer to the edge. she added a second finger, stretching you further, filling you completely. she pumped them in and out of you, her palm slapping against your clit with each thrust.

karina could feel your body trembling beneath her touch, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. she knew you were close, teetering on the brink of ecstasy. she doubled her efforts, her fingers pumping into you harder, faster, determined to push you over the edge.

“that’s it, baby, come for me.” she growled, her voice rough with lust. “i want to feel you come undone on my fingers, i want to taste your pleasure on my tongue.”

she sealed her mouth over your clit, sucking hard as she thrust a third finger deep inside you. she curled them, stroking that sensitive bundle of nerves, pushing you ruthlessly towards your peak.

your back arched off the bed, your hands fisting in the sheets as the coil of tension in your belly snapped. you cried out, your voice echoing off the walls of your dorm room as your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave.

karina didn’t let up, continuing to work you through your climax with her fingers and tongue. she drank down your release, moaning in satisfaction as your essence flooded her mouth. finally, as the aftershocks began to subside, she slowed her movements, gentling her touch.

she crawled up your body, her fingers trailing over your sweat—slicked skin. she captured your lips in a searing kiss, forcing you to taste yourself on her tongue. she smiled against your mouth, a wicked, triumphant smile.

“not bad for a warm-up, gorgeous.” she purred, nipping at your bottom lip. “but we’re far from done.”

her fingers find the waistband of her jeans, unbuttoning the button and lowering the zipper, pulling down her pants along with underwear from her long legs in the blink of an eye. a wicked grin spread across her face as she rolled onto her back, pulling you on top of her. she gripped your hips, her fingers digging into your soft flesh as she guided you to straddle her waist.

“c’mon baby.” she purred, her voice low and dripping with lust. “let’s see how well you handle being on top. impress me.”

she reached up to cup your breasts, kneading the supple mounds in her hands. she rolled your nipples between her fingers, pinching and tugging on the hardened peaks until you gasped.

karina’s other hand slid down your back, her nails raking over your skin until she reached your ass. she gripped your cheeks, squeezing the firm globes in her hands before pulling you forward, grinding your slick heat against her own.

karina’s eyes darkened with lust as she felt your wetness coating her skin, your arousal evident in the slick slide of your folds against her own. she rocked her hips up against yours, the hard ridge of her clit rubbing against your sensitive nub in a delicious friction.

“fuck… you’re so fucking wet.” she groaned, her voice strained with desire. “i can feel how much you want this, how much you need to fuck me.”

she guided your hips in a slow, sensual grind against hers, the movement allowing you both to feel the heat and pressure building between your thighs. her hands slid up your sides to your breasts, kneading the soft flesh roughly as she watched your face intently.

karina could see the pleasure playing out across your features, the way your lips parted in soft gasps and moans as you moved against her. she leaned up to capture your mouth in a searing kiss, her tongue delving deep to dance with yours.

she nipped at your bottom lip before trailing her mouth down to your neck, her teeth grazing the delicate skin. she sucked hard, intent on marking you as hers, on leaving her claim for all to see.

“ride me, baby.” she commanded, her voice low and rough with lust. “take what you need, what you want. ise me for your pleasure.”

karina’s hands gripped your hips tighter, guiding you as you began to move. you rolled your hips in a slow, sensual grind against hers, your slick folds sliding against hers. the sensation of your wetness mingling with hers was intoxicating, the friction sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your core.

as you found a rhythm, you started to bounce on her lap, your breasts jiggling with each downward motion. karina’s eyes were glued to your chest, watching the mesmerizing dance of your curves. she leaned up to catch a nipple in her mouth, suckling hard as her hand kneaded your other breast roughly.

her hips jerked up to meet yours, the head of her clit catching on your own with each thrust. the pressure built inside both of you, the heat coiling tighter and tighter in your bellies. you could feel karina’s muscles tensing beneath you, her body drawing closer to the edge.

karina’s fingers dug into the flesh of your ass, spreading your cheeks wide as she pulled you down harder, urging you to give her more. she could feel your walls fluttering around her, your body tightening like a coiled spring.

“that’s it, baby, fuck me just like that.” she panted, her voice ragged with desire. “i’m so fucking close. come with me, come on my pussy. i want to feel you fucking soak me.”

karina could feel your movements becoming more urgent, more desperate. your hips were moving frantically, grinding and rolling against hers in a wild dance. the obscene sound of your wetness filled the room, the slick slap of skin against skin echoing off the walls.

she could feel her own release building, the tension in her core winding tighter and tighter. she was so close, teetering on the brink of ecstasy. she needed you to come with her, needed to feel your pleasure as you rode her hard and fast.

“fuck, don’t stop.” she growled, her voice strained and rough. “i’m gonna come, baby. come with me, fucking soak me with your cum. i want to feel you fucking drench me as i come undone.”

she slammed sharply her hips up against yours, her clit rubbing hard against your own. the sensation was electric, sending a jolt of pure pleasure shooting through your core. your body stiffened, your back arching as your climax crashed over you like a tidal wave.

karina let out a guttural moan, her voice echoing off the walls as her own orgasm consumed her. her hips jerked and twitched beneath you, her body shaking with the force of her release. she could feel your walls clenching around her, your essence gushing out to coat her skin.

she gripped your hips hard, holding you in place as she ground against you, riding out the aftershocks of her climax. she panted harshly, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. finally, she collapsed back onto the bed, pulling you down with her.

karina wrapped her arms around you, holding you close as she peppered your face with soft kisses. she smiled up at you, her eyes shining with satisfaction and contentment. “... that was incredible.” she murmured, her voice soft and sated. “we’re definitely doing that again, baby. and again, and again…”

just as she was about to continue, a knock on the front bedroom door brings you two out of the intimate moment you were having.

“karina? are you in there? it's me, giselle. can you open the door? i lost my keys during the party last friday! actually, i think i lost my entire handbag…”

#yu jimin #yu jimin x fem reader #yu jimin x reader #yu jimin smut #yoo jimin #yoo jimin x fem reader #yoo jimin x reader #yoo jimin smut #karina #karina x fem reader #karina x reader #karina smut #aespa #aespa x fem reader #aespa x reader #aespa smut

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shepscapades · 10 months ago

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7. Lincolnshire Posy: II. — Composed by Percy Grainger, Performed by the Dallas Wind Symphony

It’s been on my mind lately that I had a lot of these Spotify song requests that I finished and never got around to posting, so I’m gonna try to chip away at posting these over the next few weeks! BUT Hi Ghost :] It’s so funny this was the song you ended up getting the number for; I had actually listened to it on loop during the deepest trenches of ranchers brainrot however many months ago, so I’m really happy I ended up being able to draw something for them!! <3 This is also the part where I expose myself for being an unashamed band kid =w= Grainger’s one of my favorite composers, so I listen to his works a lot and couldn’t help associating the really soft hopeful horns with this kind of healing period for the ranchers ;w;

I probably won’t ever really go into the details of the m-1 server’s overall plot, but I think the general vibe for m-1 ranchers is that these little moments of soft sunlight and healing bones were some of the most needed for them, so that’s why scenes like this always stand out in my mind <3 Context aside though, I think m-1 ranchers are just super sweet so!! figured I’d Full-Send share this soft doodle of them :]

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fishtrouts · 1 year ago

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Avoryx the Wicked, resting on her hoard of charred bones 🦴✨

I love love LOVE very traditional dragon designs!! Yknow the super evil treasure-hoarding beasts who just radiate malice :D Just being evil for the sake of it. It’s cliche but I enjoy it so much

It also feels great to switch it up and make something other than my comics. I really ought to do it more often to reignite that passion for drawing evil wyrms. It’s gotten a bit stale and I’d like to make and share some art that I like doing for ME, even if it might not speak to many as my comics do.

Specifically I really want to doodle my BG3 Dragonborn.. as soon as I get back my computer I can take some reference screenshots…

#ohh this turned into a ramble #avoryx the wicked #dragon

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coffinshaped · 19 days ago

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I was gonna wait until I had more to post but I wanted to share some more human Cobigail doodles!

The first one is her reading goodbye/congratulation letters from the people of Milldread before her ascension. I think Milldread adored her, especially her students. I’d like to think she kept these letters somewhere so she can look at them from time to time and reminisce QvQ

And then there’s her being silly LMAO

Extra doodle of my GGG oc Sailor sleeping on her boat and dreaming of his wifey lol SOMEONE GET THIS MFER A BED PLEASE

#great god grove #ggg fanart #ggg cobigail #ggg great god grove oc #I love drawing human Cobigail #I love all versions of Cobigail #I LOVE COBIGAIL #WIIIIIIIFE MY WIFE #and then there’s Sailors dumbass…#she/he for Sailor :3 #art mausoleum

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ozzgin · 1 year ago

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There needs to be some sorta part 2 to player reader! Imagine her life is just getting kidnapped by another suitor every other day or somethin. Or gettin forcibly married to one with a legion of other monsters interrupting the weddin. Girl is livin my dream of bein desired by monsters! 😩😢

See, that’s the trouble, I feel like everything else from now on should be up to imagination. Will Reader be serially kidnapped? Serially married? Will the mayor of Monstertown have to intervene and turn Reader into some sort of publicly owned existence that can be borrowed within a strict interval like a library book, in order to avoid the monsters killing each other?

“I’m here to return Reader”, the Eldritch creature says, pushing the little card onto the counter with its tentacle appendage.

“Uh huh. That’s one week past deadline, so I’m afraid you’ll have to pay a fine.” The worker responds, checking the files.

“Of course.”

“Is Reader alright?” The employee questions upon noticing the feverish state of the human. “It looks a little worn out.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. Might’ve gotten too enthusiastic.”

“Happens, happens. I’ll let you know when it’s available again.”

Also, as a little side note, this was the initial idea I had for a header picture but I can’t be bothered to do anything beyond this doodle. Found it funny so I thought I’d share. :)

#yandere monsters #reader insert #does that make reader a hoe in accordance to government regulations?#monster boyfriend #monster x reader #doodle

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kei-kinda-writes · 8 months ago

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S/O from the support course!!

TYPE: Headcannons, includes: How you meet, How you end up together, and general/extra

CHARACTERS (separate): Shoto Todoroki, Katsuki Bakugo, Izuku Midoriya, Ochako Uraraka

WARNING: Mentions and references to some of the final battles and events from the series but nothing too big

SHOTO TODOROKI

How you meet:

100% you two met after the sports festival most likely getting help for redesigning his hero costume!!

Assuming it took awhile to choose the designs probably met and had lunch together several times and grew closer

Although lunches were mostly focused on his costume once in awhile would turn into small talk and getting to know one another leading to exchanging numbers

Once finished his costume out of habit started sitting with you

Definitely ended in an interrogation from Midoriya, Ochako, and Iida after he kept on going missing during lunch to sit with you

Grew closer always sitting with one another during lunch and after over text

How you end up together:

Probably went to his friends for help about his feelings

either one of them or he let it slip one lunch and did not realize

Two ways this ends up playing out

Either one: You ask him about it and the two of you talking about it over text that night and putting a label on it (not entirely sure)

Or two: You completely ignore it and he ends confessing like wayyyy later

Either way most likely required pushing from Ochako, Iida, and Midoriya

General:

Will find the smallest errors about his costume just to visit you

If you were to have a sketchbook or journal of some sorts for coming up with designs would put little doodles on the pages ex. smiley faces, cats, maybe even to stick men and heart with ‘us’ in it

If anyone asked about his costume he would (even if not related whatsoever) proudly talk about how you helped him make it

Asked you about whether or not the five wieners kid was right

Always hanging out in the weekend and during lunch due to not sharing any classes

Share bits of each others lunches

Getting close with Midoriya, Ochako, and Iida since you all end up sitting together during lunch ^^

Also with everything that went down in terms of his family situation and other stuff in the first year it’s likely you don’t get together till your second or third year

KATSUKI BAKUGO

How you meet:

Came along with kaminari or kirishima when they were getting costume improvements and met you

You guys were sorta friends for awhile but you weren’t entirely close

Maybe you were the one to propose the idea of his support item in the Shigaraki fight (I forgot what it’s called)

Or he came to you asking about it since you were always doing Kaminari and Kirishimas stuff and you were likely the only support course student he knew and could request it from

Building off that idea it’s probably the only way you guys became friends, I’d imagine you’d end up closer much later in the school year rather then the beginning

You’d end up getting closer as you two worked together on the piece likely meeting after school most times

Potentially gave you a compliment for your work

How you end up together:

It wouldn’t be until you guys are in your second or third year because of your late start

That’s cause I think Bakugo would be someone who very much likes to take his time with relationships

The whole confession was likely a letter on a special holiday probably because he was nervous he’d mess it up and letters are easier

That likely resulted in talking it out over lunch he had set up for you two

Took you to a secluded area not too far from campus with some food he made and you guys put a label on your relationship :))

General:

checks up on you whenever your working outside of school hours and brings you food

Doesn’t yell at you as much as he does at others

NO. MATTER. WHAT. He will always get his costume repaired by you, absolutely refuses to let someone else do it <- this has ended up in several incidents

Recommends you to his friends, 100%

Probably takes you out to lunch to catch up with eachother every once in awhile

Would reluctantly listen if you ramble about costume and support item ideas

building off that he’d probably listen and give his own ideas maybe if you were working with another student would give you feedback on what to add

IZUKU MIDORIYA

How you meet:

You meet around halfway through the school year

Could only be when Hatsume was out sick and he needed repairs on his costume

Either that or Hatsume recommends him to you when she’s busy during school festival

Past then whenever he ended up needed adjustments with his costume and went to visit Hatsume he’d talk to you and check in on you

After some small talk you’d end up exchanging numbers and getting to know eachother better over text

Probably hang out once or twice and invites to join him at lunch! :D

Eventually he starts turning to you and Hatsume for costume adjustments and repairs and you guys slowly grow closer

How you end up together:

Midoriya probably has talked to Uraraka for help

However he’s probably too shy and flustered to confess in person so there’s one of two scenarios

1: he goes to ask Uraraka for help and ends up texting you instead

It ends up a complete incident but you guys talk it out and end up together

2: similarly to bakugo he gives a letter of some sorts and you guys talk about it in a secluded area

You guys likely don’t end up together until your second year though if I’m thinking realistically especially with his dedication towards one for all and being a hero

General:

quirk rambling and analysis together

Study dates :D

Daily good morning texts and stuff since you don’t see eachother super often

Movie dates in each others dorms where you watch documentaries about quirks or all might

Sitting next to eachother during lunch

Maybe he joins you in the support course lab and does his homework or something while you tinker and such :))

Probably lots of time just spent quietly doing work together

Bringing eachother food when either is working for awhile is a 100%

OCHAKO URARAKA

How you meet:

Costume improvements!!!

Specifically working together on her wrist bands, likely took awhile to figure out but you guys ended up close in the end and exchanging numbers!

For the first ‘trial period’ of using them I bet they got tangled often and she’d use that as an excuse to come visit you

Probably got closer over text and it became a very nice friendship

And she would always turn to you about her costume

How you end up together:

Confesses in person, I think she’d prefer to do it face to face even if she’s all anxious and flustered

I think you wouldn’t end up together until your third year due to the events of the final battle

At your grad party she probably took you aside for a a breather and you had a talk

Boom boom and boom you both come back to the party grinning and holding hands and you’re together :))

Very quick and easy but I’m sure her confession was well though out and heartfelt

General:

Eating Mochi together :D

Matching bracelets and stuff if that’s your jam

Building on that you would make them together and everything it would be sweet

Craft and art dates

Walks around the campus together on weekends to catch up with one another

Same as Todoroki if you had a notebook she would doodle in it

Gives you notes with silly drawings since you can’t hang out often!!

Asks for ideas on support items for her costume

I think she’d be fascinated by your work and would end up watching you lots of the time after school

When she changed her hair 100% came to you and you guys figured it out together (probably ended calling in someone else to help though)

Thanks for reading!

Side note: lmk if there’s any other characters you’d like done, I had lots of fun. Additionally apologies if there’s any typos, things don’t make sense, or the characters feel as though they aren’t properly done!

#mha x reader #my hero academia #bnha x reader #my hero academia x reader #uraraka x reader #todoroki x reader #bakugou x reader #midoriya x reader #ochako uraraka x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #izuku midoria x reader #x reader

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magical-reid · 2 months ago

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Chemistry in Chaos

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 9.4K

Warning: Not Proofread

Summary: Even in the darkest moments, when the Nogitsune’s whispers clawed at the edges of their minds, Stiles and Y/N found light in each other, a quiet reminder that love was stronger than fear. Together, they rebuilt what was broken, proving that even in the chaos, hope could bloom.

Stiles’ Perspective

The air in the chemistry lab always smelled faintly of sulfur and old textbooks, a mixture that clung to the back of my throat. I wasn’t really paying attention to Mr. Harris droning on about covalent bonds; my pencil was stuck between my teeth, bouncing slightly as I tapped my knee against the underside of the desk.

It wasn’t like I didn’t care about chemistry—I mean, science is kind of cool in a “fun-fact-you’ll-never-use” way. But lately, focusing on anything for more than thirty seconds felt impossible. Especially when I was… me. Or whatever I was becoming.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her. My chemistry partner. You. You sat two seats to my left, your elbow propped on the desk, chin resting on your hand. The sunlight streaming through the windows caught in your hair, creating a halo-like glow that made my chest tighten uncomfortably.

Not that you noticed. Not that we ever talked, except for the bare minimum required to get through Mr. Harris’ impossible lab instructions. You’d lean in with quiet questions, like, “How many milliliters does he want for this?” or “Did I add too much sodium hydroxide?” And I’d stammer out a reply, feeling like a total idiot because my heart started doing backflips every time you spoke.

But that was it. Outside of class, we were practically strangers.

I wanted to change that. I’d spent too much time convincing myself I didn’t care. But now? With everything that was happening to me? With the blackouts, the creeping sense that I wasn’t entirely in control anymore, I couldn’t help but wonder: if I was running out of time, would it be so bad to just… say something to you?

“Stilinski,” Harris snapped, jolting me out of my thoughts. “Maybe if you spent less time daydreaming and more time working, you’d actually pass this class.”

The laughter that rippled through the classroom was sharp and humiliating. My cheeks burned as I ducked my head, muttering an apology.

When I glanced back at you, your lips twitched—not a laugh, but a faint, amused smile. And for some reason, that felt worse than the humiliation. Like you were untouchable. Like I’d always just be the awkward guy in your peripheral vision.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Reader’s Perspective

You didn’t mean to smile, really. It wasn’t fair that Harris always singled Stiles out. But there was something so… endearingly ridiculous about the way his head jerked up like he’d been caught sleeping in class when you knew for a fact he’d been wide awake the whole time.

He was a puzzle, Stiles Stilinski. All flailing limbs and sarcastic quips, but with this odd, quiet intensity beneath the surface. You noticed it in the way his brows furrowed when he worked through problems, his eyes darting between the formulas like he was connecting dots no one else could see.

You noticed a lot about him, actually. Too much, maybe.

Like how he’d scribble notes in the margins of his textbook, things that weren’t even about chemistry—doodles of stick figures or rambling ideas about whatever supernatural chaos was consuming Beacon Hills that week. Or how he never seemed to sit still, even when he was trying to.

You noticed, and yet… you never said anything. What could you say? It wasn’t like you and Stiles were friends. You were just two people who shared a lab station.

So why, lately, did you catch yourself watching him more than you should?

Mr. Harris called for the class to pair up for the day’s experiment, and you felt a flicker of nerves. Not because the experiment was hard, but because working with Stiles always threw you off balance in a way you couldn’t explain.

“Hey,” he said softly as he slid into the seat beside you, the word accompanied by an awkward little wave.

“Hey,” you replied, trying to sound casual as you adjusted your notebook.

For a while, you worked in relative silence, exchanging the occasional question or observation. But when Stiles’ hand brushed yours as you both reached for the same beaker, you flinched.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, pulling back quickly. His voice was strained, like he was embarrassed.

“It’s fine,” you said, forcing a small smile. But your heart was racing for reasons you didn’t want to unpack.

What you didn’t notice was the shadow flickering in his eyes—the way his hands trembled slightly as he gripped the edge of the desk.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Void!Stiles Perspective

It was almost too easy.

Watching the way he looked at you, so full of longing and hesitation, was pathetic. Stiles was so busy tying himself in knots over his stupid crush that he didn’t even notice me slipping into the cracks of his mind.

Her.

The word thrummed through him like a heartbeat. Quiet, persistent, and utterly vulnerable.

You were his weak spot, whether he realized it or not. And oh, I was going to have so much fun with that.

When he reached for the beaker and your hands brushed, I felt the sharp jolt of adrenaline that shot through him. The way he recoiled, stumbling over his words.

It would be funny if it weren’t so sad.

And then there was you. Sweet, oblivious you. You didn’t even realize how easily I could destroy you—how I could twist this fragile connection into something far darker.

I grinned. Not that anyone could see it, but I grinned.

“Time’s up,” Harris announced, snapping everyone’s attention back to the front of the room.

For now, I stayed quiet. But I’d already made my decision.

The game was about to begin.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Reader’s Perspective

The rest of chemistry class passed in a blur. You tried to focus on balancing equations, jotting down formulas, and double-checking measurements, but you couldn’t shake the unease that prickled at the edges of your thoughts.

It wasn’t Stiles, exactly—well, not just him. There was something off about him today, a weight in the air around him that hadn’t been there before. It made your stomach twist, though you couldn’t quite explain why.

When the bell rang, you packed your bag quickly and muttered a quiet, “See you tomorrow,” to Stiles, who nodded distractedly. His hand twitched at his side, like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how.

You didn’t wait.

Walking down the hallway, you replayed the last hour in your head. It was the little things that stuck out: the way his eyes had lingered on you longer than usual, dark and searching. The way his fingers had trembled slightly when he handed you a graduated cylinder. The way he seemed… fractured.

It wasn’t your problem, though. You told yourself that as you wove through the crowded hallways, heading toward your next class. You barely even knew Stiles Stilinski outside of chemistry. Whatever was going on with him, it wasn’t your responsibility to figure it out.

Still, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was coming. Something bad.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Void!Stiles Perspective

She was nervous. I could feel it, the way her pulse quickened as she glanced at him during class. The way she practically bolted out of the room when the bell rang.

Good. Fear was the foundation of control. And control… control was everything.

I followed her as she moved through the hallways, slipping into the shadows just beyond her line of sight. Stiles would’ve hesitated, would’ve worried about what people might think if they caught him trailing her like some lovesick puppy. But I didn’t have those limitations.

I wasn’t Stiles.

She wasn’t paying attention as she opened her locker, pulling out books with mechanical efficiency. Her cheer uniform peeked out from beneath her sweatshirt, a bright contrast against the dull gray of the hallway.

“Y/N,” I said, my voice low and sharp, letting the syllables cut through the air like a blade.

She jumped, spinning around to face me.

“Stiles,” she breathed, clutching her notebook to her chest. “You scared me.”

I smiled—or rather, he smiled. It was the kind of smile that didn’t quite reach the eyes. The kind that made people squirm.

“Sorry about that,” I said smoothly. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Her brow furrowed. There was a flicker of hesitation in her eyes, like she wasn’t sure if she should believe me.

“Uh, it’s fine,” she said after a moment, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other. “Did you need something?”

I tilted my head, studying her. She was so… vulnerable. So unguarded.

“Actually, yeah,” I said, stepping closer. “I was wondering if you had a minute to talk.”

She blinked, clearly caught off guard. “About what?”

“Chemistry,” I said, letting the word hang in the air just long enough to make her uncomfortable.

It was a lie, of course. But she didn’t need to know that.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Reader’s Perspective

Something wasn’t right.

Stiles was standing too close, his gaze too sharp, his smile too cold. It was like looking at a stranger wearing his face.

“Uh… sure?” you said hesitantly, clutching your notebook tighter. “What about chemistry?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he leaned against the locker beside yours, his arms crossed casually over his chest. But there was nothing casual about the way his eyes bore into you, like he was dissecting you piece by piece.

“You know,” he said slowly, “you’re a lot smarter than people give you credit for.”

The compliment caught you off guard, and you felt your cheeks flush. “I—thanks, I guess?”

“Don’t mention it,” he said, his smile widening. But there was no warmth in it.

The unease in your stomach grew, twisting tighter with every passing second. You glanced around the hallway, hoping to spot someone—anyone—who might interrupt. But the crowd had thinned, leaving you alone with him.

“Look, if this is about the lab,” you said quickly, trying to fill the silence, “I can double-check the notes for you tomorrow. I’m kind of late for—”

“Do you ever get tired of pretending?” he interrupted, his voice dropping an octave.

Your heart skipped a beat. “Pretending?”

“You know,” he said, leaning in closer. His breath was cold against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. “Pretending you don’t notice the way he looks at you. Pretending you don’t like it.”

Your mouth went dry. “What are you talking about?”

“Come on, Y/N,” he said, his tone almost mocking. “Don’t play dumb. It doesn’t suit you.”

He reached out then, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a gentleness that felt entirely out of place. You flinched, stumbling back against the lockers.

“Stiles,” you said, your voice trembling. “You’re freaking me out.”

For a split second, something flickered in his eyes—something dark and hollow and wrong.

And then he stepped back, his expression shifting so quickly it was like the moment had never happened.

“Sorry,” he said lightly, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

But the damage was already done.

You didn’t say anything as he turned and walked away, whistling softly to himself.

And you didn’t notice the way he glanced back over his shoulder, his grin sharp enough to draw blood.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Stiles’ Perspective

I was losing time again.

One second, I was in chemistry, sitting next to Y/N and trying to convince myself that the slight brush of her hand against mine wasn’t the best thing to happen to me all week. The next, I was sitting in my Jeep with the engine running, staring blankly at the steering wheel like I’d just come out of a fog.

My heart was racing, my hands gripping the wheel so tightly that my knuckles ached. I didn’t know how I’d gotten here. I didn’t know where I’d gone.

But I knew who had been driving.

“Get out of my head,” I muttered, my voice cracking.

The Nogitsune didn’t answer. Not verbally, anyway. But I felt it, coiled deep inside me like a viper, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. It had been quiet for a while, letting me think—falsely—that maybe I could regain control. That maybe I could keep the people I cared about safe.

But I should’ve known better.

My phone buzzed on the passenger seat, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts. I grabbed it with trembling hands and saw a text from Y/N.

“Can we talk?”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I stared at the screen, my thumb hovering over the keyboard as panic surged through me.

What had he done?

I could barely remember the last hour. The flashes I did recall—the locker, her wide eyes, the sound of my own voice dripping with malice—made me feel sick.

I typed out a response with shaky fingers:

“What happened?”

I hit send before I could second-guess myself, the knot in my chest tightening as I watched the message go through. Seconds stretched into what felt like hours, and I had to remind myself to breathe.

When her reply finally came, my stomach dropped.

“You know exactly what happened. Meet me at the bleachers after practice.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, the phone slipping from my grip onto the passenger seat.

“You’re slipping,” a voice purred from somewhere deep inside my mind.

“Shut up,” I muttered under my breath, digging my nails into my palms until the pain cut through the chaos.

The Nogitsune laughed, a sound that was somehow both inhuman and eerily familiar. “You should’ve seen her face. The fear. The confusion. She looked at you like you were a monster. Because that’s what you are, Stiles.”

“No,” I said firmly, my voice barely above a whisper. “I can fix this.”

The laugh grew louder, echoing in my skull. “Fix it? Oh, Stiles. I don’t think you understand the rules of the game. There is no fixing this. You’re already too far gone.”

I gritted my teeth, gripping the steering wheel so hard I thought it might snap. But I didn’t argue. What was the point? Deep down, I was terrified the Nogitsune was right.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Reader’s Perspective

The bleachers were empty, the late afternoon sunlight casting long shadows across the field as you paced back and forth. Practice had ended twenty minutes ago, but you barely noticed the other cheerleaders filtering out one by one, their chatter fading into the distance.

Your thoughts were a storm, swirling with questions you didn’t have the answers to.

What the hell had happened in the hallway? That wasn’t Stiles. At least, it hadn’t felt like him. The boy you knew—awkward, sarcastic, endearingly clumsy—had been replaced by someone colder. Someone sharper.

And yet… it was him.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to shake the chill that lingered long after he’d walked away. You didn’t know what you expected to get out of this conversation, but you couldn’t let it go. Not until you knew the truth.

The sound of footsteps pulled you from your thoughts. You looked up to see Stiles walking toward you, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie. He looked… hesitant. Nervous.

Almost like himself.

But the memory of that cold smile was still fresh in your mind, and you took an instinctive step back as he approached.

He noticed, and something in his expression cracked.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice soft. “I—”

“What’s going on with you?” you interrupted, your voice sharper than you intended.

He flinched, like the words physically hurt.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, too quickly. “I mean, everything’s fine. Why wouldn’t it be?”

You stared at him, your jaw tightening. “Are you serious right now? You’re going to stand there and act like nothing happened?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but you didn’t give him the chance.

“You’re different, Stiles,” you said, your voice trembling. “The way you looked at me today—the way you spoke to me—it wasn’t you. So if this is some kind of joke, or if something’s wrong, you need to tell me. Now.”

For a moment, he just stood there, his mouth opening and closing like he didn’t know what to say. And then he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“You’re right,” he admitted, his voice barely audible.

Your heart skipped a beat. “What?”

“You’re right,” he repeated, finally meeting your eyes. “Something’s… wrong. I don’t know how to explain it, but I—”

He stopped abruptly, his body stiffening. His gaze flicked to something just over your shoulder, and the blood drained from his face.

“Stiles?” you said, glancing back. There was nothing there.

When you turned back to him, his expression had changed. His eyes were darker, colder. The slight tremble in his hands was gone, replaced by an unsettling stillness.

“Sorry about that,” he said smoothly, his lips curving into a smile that made your skin crawl. “Where were we?”

Your stomach dropped. “Stiles?”

He tilted his head, his smile widening. “That’s my name. Don’t wear it out.”

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head. “You’re not—”

“Not what?” he interrupted, stepping closer. His voice was soft, almost playful, but there was an edge to it that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Not Stiles?” he continued, his tone mocking. “Oh, sweetheart. You’re smarter than that. You know who I am.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “The Nogitsune,” you said quietly, the word tasting bitter on your tongue.

“Bingo,” he said with a grin, spreading his arms theatrically. “And here I thought you weren’t paying attention.”

You stumbled back, your heart pounding as the reality of the situation hit you like a freight train.

“I wouldn’t run if I were you,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement. “It’s so much more fun when you play along.”

“What do you want?” you demanded, your voice shaking.

He smirked, taking another step forward. “Oh, it’s not about what I want,” he said. “It’s about what he wants.”

Your chest tightened. “What are you talking about?”

“Stiles,” he said simply, his voice softening in a way that made it even more chilling. “He wants you. Always has. Didn’t you know that?”

You froze, your mind racing. “You’re lying.”

“Am I?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

For a moment, his expression flickered. His grin faltered, replaced by something raw and desperate. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his whole body trembling like he was fighting to stay in control.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice strained. “Run. Now.”

And then the grin was back, sharp and cruel as ever.

“Too late,” he said with a laugh, his dark eyes gleaming with triumph.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Reader’s Perspective

You didn’t run. You should’ve. Every instinct screamed at you to turn and bolt, to get as far away from him—or it, or whatever that was—as possible.

But you couldn’t move. Your legs felt like lead, your heart pounding so hard it drowned out everything else. You stayed frozen until the thing wearing Stiles’ face—Void, Nogitsune, whatever it was—turned and walked away, whistling a haunting, familiar tune.

It left you there, alone under the bleachers, the cold wind biting at your skin.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt truly terrified.

The next few days were a blur. You went to school, went to practice, and tried to act like everything was fine. But you avoided the chemistry lab at all costs, making excuses to Mr. Harris about needing to work in the library or staying late to make up assignments.

You didn’t want to see Stiles.

Or the thing inside him.

When you did catch glimpses of him in the hallways—his familiar, lanky frame, his wide brown eyes scanning the crowd—your stomach twisted painfully. You didn’t know if it was fear, anger, or some awful mixture of both.

You kept your distance, walking the long way around campus if you thought you might run into him. But that didn’t stop him from trying.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Stiles’ Perspective

It was unbearable.

Every time I saw her—Y/N—in the hallway, my chest felt like it was caving in. She wouldn’t look at me. She wouldn’t even glance in my direction.

Not that I could blame her.

The memories of that day were fuzzy, fractured into pieces I could barely fit together. But I remembered enough. I remembered the way her voice shook when she said my name. The way she stumbled back, her eyes wide with fear.

I remembered the smile. That awful, twisted grin that didn’t belong to me but somehow felt carved into my face.

I hated myself for it.

“Are you even listening, Stiles?” Scott’s voice snapped me back to reality.

We were standing by the lockers, Scott looking at me with that patented mix of concern and exasperation. He’d been hovering ever since I told him about the Nogitsune. I appreciated it, but it didn’t make the weight in my chest any easier to carry.

“Sorry,” I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck. “What were you saying?”

Scott sighed. “I was asking if you’ve talked to her yet.”

I tensed. “She doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“Stiles—”

“I can’t,” I said sharply, cutting him off. “I don’t even know what I’d say. ‘Hey, sorry about the whole creepy possession thing. Hope you’re not too traumatized.’ Yeah, that’ll go great.”

Scott frowned. “You can’t just avoid her forever. She’s already scared, and if you keep ignoring the problem, it’s only going to get worse.”

I knew he was right. Of course he was right. But the idea of facing her, of seeing the fear in her eyes again, made my stomach churn.

Still, I couldn’t let things stay like this.

“I’ll talk to her,” I said finally.

Scott gave me a small, encouraging smile. “Good. You’ve got this.”

I wasn’t so sure.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Reader’s Perspective

You’d just finished practice when you saw him standing by the bleachers, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie.

Stiles.

Your stomach twisted painfully, your grip tightening on the strap of your bag. You thought about walking the other way, but the look on his face stopped you. He seemed… lost. Nervous.

Not the boy you’d seen under the bleachers.

You hesitated, your pulse quickening as he caught sight of you and straightened.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice soft. “Hey.”

You stayed where you were, keeping a few feet of distance between you. “What do you want, Stiles?”

He winced at the sharpness in your tone, his shoulders hunching slightly. “I just… I wanted to talk. To explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain,” you said quickly, your voice trembling. “I know what’s going on with you. Or with… whatever that thing is inside you.”

He flinched, and for a moment, you felt a pang of guilt.

“I know you’re scared,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I don’t blame you. But it wasn’t me, Y/N. You have to know that. It wasn’t me.”

“Wasn’t it?” you shot back, your throat tightening. “It looked like you. It sounded like you.”

“I know,” he said, his voice cracking. “I know, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m trying to fight it, I swear, but it’s—it’s stronger than I thought.”

You looked away, your chest aching. You wanted to believe him. You really did. But every time you closed your eyes, all you could see was that cold, mocking smile.

“I don’t know if I can trust you,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely audible.

The words hit him like a physical blow. He staggered slightly, his face crumpling in a way that made your heart ache.

“I get it,” he said after a long moment, his voice hollow. “I do. I just… I wanted you to know that I would never hurt you. Not on purpose. Not if I could help it.”

You swallowed hard, blinking back the sting of tears. “I want to believe you, Stiles. But I don’t know if I can. Not yet.”

He nodded, his jaw tight. “Okay,” he said softly. “Okay. I’ll… I’ll give you space. As much as you need.”

He took a step back, his hands raised in surrender. But before he turned to leave, he looked at you one last time, his eyes filled with an unbearable mix of longing and regret.

“I’m not giving up on us,” he said quietly. “I don’t care how long it takes. I’ll prove to you that you can trust me again.”

And then he walked away, leaving you standing there with a lump in your throat and a storm raging in your chest.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Reader’s Perspective

You told yourself it wasn’t a big deal.

The way Stiles lingered outside the locker room after practice. How he waited at your usual bench in the library, even when you didn’t show up for study hall. How he kept sliding carefully folded notes into your locker, short and desperate things that you couldn’t bring yourself to throw away.

It wasn’t a big deal.

Except it was.

You didn’t open the first note right away. Or the second. But by the third, your curiosity—or maybe something deeper—got the better of you.

“I’m sorry. That’s probably not enough, but I don’t know what else to say. I’ll do anything to make this right. Please just give me a chance.”

You read it twice, then shoved it into the bottom of your bag.

You didn’t answer.

Over the next week, you couldn’t avoid him completely. Beacon Hills was too small for that. But you made sure to keep your distance whenever you could.

In chemistry, you avoided meeting his gaze, keeping your head down as you scribbled notes or pretended to focus on the day’s experiment. Stiles didn’t push. He kept his voice low and his words few, careful not to overstep.

And yet, you could feel his eyes on you, full of things he wasn’t saying.

It was exhausting.

Your emotions were a tangled mess—fear, anger, guilt, and something softer that you didn’t want to name. You couldn’t forget the way he’d looked at you under the bleachers, dark and dangerous. But you also couldn’t forget the way he’d looked at you since then, with quiet desperation and raw sincerity.

You were caught between the two, unsure which version of Stiles was real—or if either of them were.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Stiles’ Perspective

I was losing her.

Every time I saw Y/N—every time I caught her avoiding me in the hallways, her shoulders stiff and her head down—it felt like another piece of me was breaking.

The Nogitsune hadn’t even tried to hide its amusement. It whispered to me in the quiet moments, taunting me with images of her flinching away, her eyes wide with fear.

“Why do you even bother?” it hissed. “She’ll never trust you again. She shouldn’t trust you.”

“Shut up,” I muttered under my breath, slamming my locker shut.

But no matter how hard I tried to tune it out, the voice was always there. Twisting. Digging.

And the worst part? It was right.

The tipping point came on a rainy Thursday afternoon.

You were sitting in the library, headphones on and a textbook open in front of you, though you weren’t really reading it. The rain drummed softly against the windows, filling the silence with a soothing rhythm.

When you felt a presence beside you, you looked up instinctively—and froze.

Stiles was standing there, holding two steaming cups of hot chocolate. He hesitated when he saw your expression, his grip tightening on the cups.

“Hey,” he said softly.

You didn’t respond, your heart pounding as you weighed your options. Part of you wanted to tell him to leave, to walk away and stop making this harder than it already was. But another part of you—the part that still remembered the old Stiles, the one who always knew how to make you laugh during labs—couldn’t bring yourself to say it.

So you stayed silent.

He took that as permission, sliding into the seat across from you. He set one of the cups in front of you, then wrapped his hands around the other, like he needed something to anchor himself.

“I figured you could use this,” he said, his voice low. “It’s from the place by the field. You know, the one that always burns their coffee but somehow makes the best hot chocolate?”

You stared at the cup, your chest tightening. You used to stop there after practice sometimes.

“How did you—” You stopped yourself, shaking your head.

“I remember stuff,” he said quietly. “About you.”

That admission hit you harder than you wanted to admit.

“Why are you doing this, Stiles?” you asked finally, meeting his gaze.

He didn’t look away. “Because I’m trying to prove to you that I’m still me,” he said simply. “That I’m not… I’m not just what you saw under the bleachers. I’m not the Nogitsune. I’m me. And I care about you.”

Your breath hitched, your fingers tightening around the edge of the table.

“Don’t,” you said softly, your voice cracking. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” he asked, his voice full of quiet desperation. “It’s true. You can pretend all you want, Y/N, but you know it is. I’ve cared about you for months. And I know I screwed up. I know I scared you. But I can’t let you go without at least trying to fix this.”

You didn’t know what to say. The words hung between you, heavy and impossible to ignore.

“I don’t know if I can trust you,” you whispered after a long moment.

“I know,” he said. “And I don’t expect you to just… forgive me overnight. But I’m not going anywhere, okay? I’ll do whatever it takes, for however long it takes, to prove to you that you can trust me again.”

His voice was steady, but his eyes were pleading.

You looked down at the cup of hot chocolate, your vision blurring slightly.

“Stiles,” you began, but your voice wavered. You didn’t know what you wanted to say.

“Just think about it,” he said softly, standing up before you could respond.

He didn’t wait for you to say anything else, leaving the hot chocolate on the table as he walked away.

For a long time, you just sat there, staring at the cup as the rain continued to fall outside.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Reader’s Perspective

You didn’t drink the hot chocolate.

At least, not right away. You sat in the library until the rain stopped, staring at the cup like it held the answer to a question you were too afraid to ask. Eventually, you picked it up, the faint warmth reminding you that Stiles had been there, that he’d gone out of his way to bring it to you.

That night, you tossed and turned, the words he’d said echoing in your head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You weren’t sure what scared you more—his determination, or the possibility that he might actually mean it.

The next day at school, you felt like a live wire, jittery and on edge. You’d barely slept, and the thought of seeing Stiles again made your stomach twist uncomfortably. You didn’t know what you were supposed to say to him.

But fate—or Beacon Hills—had other plans.

The attack happened just after third period.

You were walking through the empty hallway outside the gym when you heard it—a sharp crack, like something heavy slamming against the wall.

You froze, your heart pounding. “Hello?” you called out hesitantly, your voice echoing in the stillness.

No answer.

Another noise—this one louder, closer. It sounded like someone was fighting, the scuffle of shoes against tile followed by a low, guttural growl that sent a chill down your spine.

You took a step back, but before you could move any farther, something slammed into the lockers just ahead of you.

It wasn’t human.

You didn’t even get a good look at it before it lunged, a blur of claws and teeth heading straight for you.

You screamed, stumbling backward and throwing your arms up in a desperate attempt to shield yourself. But before it could reach you, another figure slammed into it, knocking it away with a force that rattled the lockers.

“Get out of here!”

The voice was familiar. Too familiar.

You lowered your arms just in time to see Stiles standing between you and the creature, his chest heaving as he braced himself for its next attack.

“Stiles?” you whispered, your voice shaking.

He glanced back at you, his expression tight with fear—and something else. “Y/N, run. Now!”

But you couldn’t move. Your legs felt like they were made of lead, your body rooted to the spot as the creature lunged at him again.

“Stiles!” you screamed.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Stiles’ Perspective

She wasn’t running.

Why isn’t she running?

The thing—a chimera, maybe, or some other supernatural experiment gone horribly wrong—was fast, but I was faster. Adrenaline coursed through me as I dodged its claws, my focus split between the fight and the girl behind me.

“Y/N, go!” I shouted again, barely ducking in time to avoid a swipe aimed at my head.

But she didn’t move.

I didn’t have time to think about it. The creature charged again, and I threw myself at it, slamming my shoulder into its chest. We hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the wind out of me.

For a second, I thought I had it under control. But then it twisted, its claws slicing across my arm, and I cried out in pain.

“Stiles!”

Her voice was sharp, panicked, and too close.

I turned my head just in time to see her rushing toward me, a fire extinguisher in her hands.

“Y/N, don’t—”

But she was already swinging it, the metal canister connecting with the creature’s head with a sickening crack. It stumbled, letting out a snarl as it turned its attention to her.

“No!” I scrambled to my feet, ignoring the pain in my arm as I threw myself between them again.

The creature hesitated, its dark eyes flicking between the two of us. And then, with a low growl, it turned and bolted down the hallway, disappearing into the shadows.

The silence that followed was deafening.

“Are you okay?” I asked, turning to her. My voice came out rough, strained.

She was staring at me, her chest heaving, the fire extinguisher still clutched in her trembling hands.

“Stiles,” she said, her voice cracking. “Your arm.”

I glanced down, barely registering the blood soaking through my sleeve. “It’s fine,” I said quickly. “What about you? Did it—”

“I’m fine,” she said, cutting me off. “But you’re not. You’re bleeding, and—and you could’ve—”

Her voice broke, and before I could stop myself, I reached for her.

“Hey,” I said softly, my good hand brushing her shoulder. “It’s okay. I’m okay. You’re okay.”

Her eyes filled with tears, and she shook her head. “No, it’s not okay, Stiles. None of this is okay. You could’ve died, and I—”

She stopped abruptly, her gaze dropping to the floor.

“And you what?” I asked, my heart pounding.

She didn’t answer at first. But then she looked up, and the raw emotion in her eyes made my breath catch.

“And I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Reader’s Perspective

The words hung between you, heavy and impossible to take back.

You hadn’t meant to say it—not like this, not with blood on his shirt and adrenaline still coursing through your veins. But it was the truth, and you couldn’t pretend otherwise anymore.

Stiles stared at you, his expression unreadable. “Y/N,” he said softly, his voice tinged with disbelief. “Do you mean that?”

You nodded, your throat tight. “I’m still mad at you,” you admitted, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “And I’m still scared. But… I care about you, Stiles. More than I want to admit.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. And then he stepped closer, his hand still resting gently on your shoulder.

“I care about you too,” he said, his voice steady despite the chaos around you. “So much it hurts. And I swear, Y/N, I’m going to do everything I can to keep you safe. From the Nogitsune, from everything. I promise.”

You believed him.

For the first time in weeks, you let yourself believe him.

And when he pulled you into a careful, hesitant embrace, you didn’t pull away.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Reader’s Perspective

The moment between you and Stiles in the hallway didn’t solve everything. It couldn’t—not with the Nogitsune still lurking inside him, waiting for a chance to strike.

But it was a start.

You walked with him to the parking lot that afternoon, his arm draped carefully over your shoulders as you supported his weight. He tried to shrug off the injury, brushing it off with his usual humor, but you weren’t having it.

“Stiles,” you said firmly as you helped him into the Jeep. “You need to get that stitched. No arguments.”

He grimaced but didn’t fight you.

By the time you reached Deaton’s clinic, your resolve had only hardened. If Stiles was going to keep throwing himself into danger, you’d make damn sure he didn’t do it alone.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Stiles’ Perspective

The clinic was quiet, the only sounds the soft hum of machinery and the occasional clink of Deaton’s tools as he worked. I sat on the exam table, biting the inside of my cheek as he cleaned and stitched the gash on my arm.

Y/N sat across the room, her arms crossed over her chest and a stubborn set to her jaw. She hadn’t said much since we arrived, but her presence was enough to keep me grounded.

“I’ll give you a moment,” Deaton said once he finished, his gaze lingering on me with quiet concern before he left the room.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Y/N stood and walked over to me.

“You’re reckless, you know that?” she said, her voice sharp but not unkind.

I winced, rubbing the back of my neck. “Yeah, I’ve heard that once or twice.”

“I’m serious, Stiles.” She stepped closer, her eyes searching mine. “You can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep putting yourself in danger like this. What if I hadn’t been there today? What if—”

“Hey.” I cut her off gently, reaching for her hand. “I’m okay. And you were there. That’s what matters.”

She shook her head, frustration flickering across her face. “It’s not enough. You can’t fight this thing alone.”

“I’m not alone,” I said quietly, squeezing her hand.

Her gaze softened, and she let out a shaky breath. “Then let me help you,” she said. “I don’t care what it takes. We’ll figure it out together.”

Something in my chest ached at her words, but I nodded. “Okay,” I said. “Together.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The first step was figuring out how to weaken the Nogitsune’s hold.

Scott and Lydia joined the effort the next day, meeting with you and Stiles at his house. The four of you huddled around the kitchen table, pouring over books and notes that Deaton had loaned you.

“Is there a way to keep it from taking control?” you asked, flipping through a weathered tome on Japanese mythology.

“It feeds on chaos, pain, and fear,” Lydia said, her voice calm and analytical. “If we can starve it, maybe we can weaken it.”

“Easier said than done,” Scott muttered, running a hand through his hair. “There’s no shortage of chaos in this town.”

“Then we keep it focused,” you said firmly. “If it wants chaos, we make it chase us. We keep it distracted while we figure out how to get rid of it.”

Stiles looked at you, his expression a mix of admiration and worry. “That’s risky,” he said.

“So is doing nothing,” you shot back.

He didn’t argue.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Reader’s Perspective

Over the next few days, you and Stiles fell into an uneasy routine. You stayed close to him whenever you could, your presence a steady anchor as he struggled to keep the Nogitsune at bay.

It wasn’t easy. The thing inside him didn’t like being ignored.

Late one night, you were sitting on his bed, helping him sort through Deaton’s notes, when he suddenly stiffened.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice tight.

You looked up, your stomach twisting at the sight of his clenched fists and the flicker of darkness in his eyes.

“It’s trying to take over,” he said through gritted teeth.

You moved without thinking, sliding off the bed and kneeling in front of him. “Stiles,” you said firmly, taking his hands in yours. “Look at me.”

He shook his head, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. “I can’t—I can’t stop it—”

“Yes, you can,” you said, your voice steady. “You’re stronger than it is, Stiles. You’ve proven that over and over again.”

His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the darkness receded. “What if I hurt you?” he whispered, his voice breaking.

“You won’t,” you said, squeezing his hands. “I trust you.”

The words seemed to ground him, and he let out a shaky breath, the tension in his body slowly easing.

“Thank you,” he said softly, his voice barely audible.

You gave him a small, reassuring smile. “We’ve got this,” you said. “Together.”

─── ⋆⋅��⋅⋆ ───

Stiles’ Perspective

Y/N was saving me.

Every time I felt the Nogitsune clawing at the edges of my mind, she was there, pulling me back. She didn’t have to say much—sometimes just hearing her voice was enough.

But I couldn’t shake the fear that it wouldn’t last.

The Nogitsune was patient. It was always waiting, watching, biding its time. And I knew that one day, it would strike.

But until then, I had her.

And for now, that was enough.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Reader’s Perspective

By the time the confrontation was inevitable, the exhaustion had already settled deep into your bones.

The days leading up to it blurred together, a constant haze of sleepless nights, endless research, and fleeting moments of fear and hope. Stiles’ strength amazed you, even as it terrified you. He fought the Nogitsune with everything he had, but you could see the cracks forming—each flicker of darkness in his eyes lasting a little longer, his voice slipping into that sharp, mocking tone more often than before.

You couldn’t help but wonder how much time he had left.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Stiles’ Perspective

The Nogitsune was growing restless.

It had stopped whispering and started screaming, clawing at the edges of my mind like a caged animal. It wanted out. It wanted chaos.

And I could feel it getting stronger.

Every time I blacked out, I woke up with blood under my fingernails, bruises I couldn’t explain, and memories that didn’t belong to me. The others didn’t say it, but I knew they were scared.

I was scared, too.

But I didn’t tell them that.

Especially not Y/N.

She was already carrying so much—watching me like a hawk, staying up late to help with research, putting herself in danger just by being near me. I hated that she’d gotten dragged into this mess, but at the same time, I couldn’t imagine going through it without her.

She made me feel like me again, even when the Nogitsune tried to tell me I wasn’t.

And I wasn’t going to let it hurt her.

No matter what.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

It happened on a cold, moonless night.

You were at the animal clinic with Scott, Lydia, and Stiles, poring over Deaton’s latest notes. The idea was to lure the Nogitsune into a trap—a series of wards and ash barriers designed to weaken it enough for Lydia to use her banshee powers to sever its connection to Stiles’ mind.

But the Nogitsune had other plans.

One minute, Stiles was flipping through a book, his brow furrowed in concentration. The next, he froze, his entire body going rigid.

“Stiles?” you said, your voice sharp with concern.

He didn’t respond.

“Stiles,” Scott said, stepping closer.

And then he turned.

His eyes were darker than you’d ever seen them, his expression cold and twisted. When he smiled, it sent a chill down your spine.

“Well,” he said, his voice dripping with malice. “Isn’t this cozy?”

“Stiles, fight it,” you said, stepping forward despite the warning look Scott shot you.

“Oh, he’s fighting,” the Nogitsune said, tilting its head. “But not very hard. It’s amazing what a little despair can do to a person, isn’t it?”

“Let him go,” Scott growled, his hands clenching into fists.

The Nogitsune laughed, the sound sharp and cruel. “Let him go? Oh, Scott. You don’t seem to understand. He’s not yours to save.”

Before anyone could react, the Nogitsune’s gaze snapped to you.

“Ah, and here she is,” it said, its tone mocking. “The little spark keeping him tethered to reality. I wonder, what would happen if we snuffed it out?”

Your blood ran cold.

“Don’t,” Stiles’ voice broke through suddenly, strained and desperate. His body jerked like he was fighting against invisible chains, his hands clenching at his sides. “Don’t touch her.”

“Oh, but it’s so tempting,” the Nogitsune purred, its gaze locked on you. “She’s such a pretty little weakness, isn’t she?”

You didn’t move. You couldn’t. Your legs felt like stone, but your heart was racing, pounding so loudly you could barely think.

“You’re not going to hurt her,” Scott said, stepping in front of you. His voice was steady, but his claws were out, his body coiled to spring.

The Nogitsune smirked. “Perhaps not yet,” it said. “But it’s such a fun thought, isn’t it? Watching her break? Watching all of you break?”

“Not today,” Lydia said suddenly, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

The Nogitsune turned to her, its smile faltering slightly.

“Scott,” Lydia said, her gaze steady. “Get the ash.”

Scott moved quickly, his claws scraping the floor as he grabbed the container of mountain ash from the counter. He started spreading it in a circle, his movements precise and methodical.

The Nogitsune laughed again, but there was an edge of something else in its tone now—something that sounded like uncertainty.

“Oh, I see,” it said, stepping back as Scott worked. “You think this will stop me? You think he wants to be saved?”

“Stiles does,” you said, your voice steady despite the fear clawing at your chest. “You’re wrong about him. He’s stronger than you think.”

The Nogitsune’s eyes narrowed, its expression twisting into something ugly. “We’ll see about that,” it hissed.

And then it lunged.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Reader’s Perspective

You didn’t think. You didn’t have time.

The Nogitsune moved faster than you thought possible, its hand outstretched toward you like a claw. But before it could reach you, Stiles’ body jerked violently, his entire frame trembling.

“No!” he shouted, his voice raw and anguished.

The Nogitsune froze, its grip on Stiles slipping as he forced himself back. His eyes flickered, the darkness in them receding as his hands shot out to grab yours.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice trembling. “I—I can’t hold it much longer. You have to finish this. You have to—”

“Stiles, I’m not leaving you,” you said firmly, gripping his hands tightly.

“You won’t have to,” Lydia said suddenly. She stepped forward, her eyes bright with determination as she let out a piercing scream that reverberated through the room.

The Nogitsune roared, its grip on Stiles breaking entirely as Lydia’s scream grew louder, sharper. Scott finished the circle of ash, and the Nogitsune stumbled, its movements erratic and uncoordinated.

“Now!” Lydia shouted.

Stiles collapsed to his knees, his hands clutching yours as the Nogitsune’s shadowy form was ripped from his body. It howled in rage, thrashing against the barrier of ash as Lydia’s voice carried it farther and farther away.

And then, suddenly, it was gone.

The silence that followed was deafening.

“Stiles,” you whispered, kneeling beside him. “Are you—”

“I’m okay,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I’m okay.”

You wrapped your arms around him, holding him tightly as he buried his face in your shoulder. For the first time in weeks, you felt like you could finally breathe.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The days following the Nogitsune’s defeat were eerily quiet.

The chaos it had left behind—the broken trust, the physical and emotional scars—was still present, hanging in the air like smoke after a fire. You didn’t think you’d ever forget the sound of Stiles screaming, or the cold, mocking tone the Nogitsune used when it spoke through him.

But you also couldn’t forget the way he fought. The way he clawed his way back to you, holding on with everything he had until the Nogitsune was ripped from his body.

Now, you found yourself sitting next to him on the steps of the Stilinski house, your shoulder brushing against his as the early evening sun dipped below the horizon.

Neither of you had said much since you arrived, and the silence between you was heavy but not uncomfortable.

“Y/N,” he said finally, breaking the stillness.

You turned to look at him, your heart squeezing at the vulnerability in his expression. His hands were clasped tightly in his lap, his thumbs nervously fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Stiles—”

“No, let me say this,” he interrupted, his eyes meeting yours. “I need to say it.”

You nodded, letting him continue.

“I hurt you,” he said, his voice trembling slightly. “Even if it wasn’t me doing it, it still happened. And you were right to be scared. I was scared, too. But you… you didn’t give up on me. You stayed, even when you didn’t have to. And I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you enough for that.”

You felt your throat tighten, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. “Stiles, I stayed because I knew it wasn’t you. I knew you were still in there, fighting. And I—”

You stopped, the words catching in your throat.

He tilted his head, his eyes softening. “You what?” he asked gently.

You hesitated for only a moment before taking a deep breath. “I care about you, Stiles. I think I always have, even before all of this. And seeing you like that, knowing what you were going through… it scared me because I couldn’t imagine losing you.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, his expression unreadable. Then, without warning, he reached out and took your hand in his, his grip warm and steady.

“You won’t lose me,” he said firmly. “I promise. No more Nogitsune, no more chaos. Just… me. If you’ll still have me.”

You let out a shaky laugh, a tear slipping down your cheek as you nodded. “Of course I will,” you said, your voice breaking slightly.

His lips curved into a small, hesitant smile. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Stiles’ Perspective

I couldn’t stop looking at her.

The way the setting sun painted her features in soft golden light, the way her eyes shimmered with unshed tears but still held so much strength. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, and for some reason I still couldn’t quite wrap my head around, she’d chosen to stay.

The Nogitsune was gone, but its shadow lingered. There were nights when I woke up gasping for air, the memory of its voice ringing in my ears. Nights when I thought about what could’ve happened if Y/N hadn’t been there—if she hadn’t held onto me when I needed it most.

She saved me.

And I was going to spend the rest of my life making sure she knew how much that meant to me.

“You’re staring,” she said, a teasing smile tugging at her lips.

“Sorry,” I said sheepishly, though I didn’t look away. “I’m just… I don’t know. Grateful, I guess.”

“Grateful?” she echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” I said, squeezing her hand. “Grateful that you’re here. That I’m here. That we’re… okay.”

Her expression softened, and she leaned her head against my shoulder. “We are okay,” she said quietly.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, I believed her.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Reader’s Perspective

The nightmares didn’t go away right away.

There were nights when you woke up in a cold sweat, the memory of the Nogitsune’s cruel smile etched into your mind. But those nights became fewer and farther between, especially with Stiles by your side.

He still had his own demons to fight, but you fought them together. On the bad days, you reminded him that he wasn’t alone. And on the good days, he reminded you why you stayed.

One afternoon, as you sat on the bleachers after practice, he handed you a familiar cup of hot chocolate.

“From the place by the field,” he said with a small smile.

You took it, your chest tightening as the memory of that day flashed through your mind. “Thanks,” you said softly.

He sat down beside you, his knee brushing against yours. For a moment, neither of you spoke, content to just sit in the quiet.

Then he glanced at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “So,” he said, “does this mean we’re officially chemistry partners for life?”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “I think we’ve earned that title,” you said.

“Good,” he said, his smile widening. “Because I don’t plan on letting you go anytime soon.”

You didn’t plan on letting him go, either.

No matter what came next, you knew you’d face it together.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Epilogue:

Reader’s Perspective

Months passed, and the scars the Nogitsune left behind—both visible and invisible—began to fade. Life didn’t return to normal, exactly. Beacon Hills had a way of making “normal” feel like a foreign concept. But you and Stiles built something new, something stronger than the chaos that had tried to break you.

Your relationship wasn’t perfect. There were moments of doubt, of fear, when you both struggled to fully trust that the darkness was gone for good. But every time, Stiles would reach for your hand, grounding you both in a way that words couldn’t.

“Together,” he’d remind you, and you’d nod, letting his warmth chase away the lingering shadows.

One Saturday afternoon, you sat with Stiles in his Jeep, parked at the overlook just outside of town. It had become your unofficial spot—a place to escape when things got overwhelming.

“Okay,” Stiles said, breaking the comfortable silence. “Picture this: aliens invade Beacon Hills, right? But instead of fighting, they challenge us to a trivia contest. What’s the one fact you’d bet your life on?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “That’s the dumbest scenario I’ve ever heard.”

“Come on,” he said, nudging you with his elbow. “What’s your go-to fun fact?”

You thought for a moment, tapping your chin dramatically. “Okay. Did you know octopuses have three hearts, and two of them stop beating when they swim?”

His jaw dropped in mock amazement. “What? No way. That’s so unfair. Humans only get one, and half the time it’s broken.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips. “What about you? What’s your big trivia fact?”

He grinned. “Easy. Did you know that my girlfriend is the smartest, most badass person in Beacon Hills?”

You groaned, shoving his shoulder playfully. “That’s not a real fact!”

“It’s real to me,” he said, his grin softening into something sweeter.

You looked at him, your heart swelling at the sight of his easy smile. He was lighter now, freer. The weight he’d carried for so long seemed to have lifted, and seeing him like this made everything you’d been through feel worth it.

“You’re impossible,” you said, shaking your head.

“And you love me anyway,” he shot back, leaning closer.

“Yeah,” you admitted, your voice soft. “I do.”

His expression shifted, his eyes searching yours like he was trying to memorize every detail. “Good,” he said quietly. “Because I love you, too.”

You didn’t need any more words.

Leaning in, you pressed your lips to his, your hand sliding to the back of his neck as his arms wrapped around you. The kiss was slow and steady, filled with all the things you didn’t know how to say.

When you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested together, both of you smiling like fools.

“Together?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Always,” you replied.

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting the town in shades of gold and orange. For the first time in a long time, the future didn’t feel so uncertain.

Whatever came next, you knew you’d face it side by side.

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