#sorry for not coming out with any new works lately yall

[coquitokisses]

Back Together | Bucky Barnes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader, (husband!Bucky Barnes x wife!reader, dad!Bucky Barnes x mom!reader)

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings/Tags: Bucky being dad and hubby material, fluff, angst maybe?

Summary: Bucky and reader are married and have two girls, but because of Bucky’s work, reader decides to “break up” and have been separated for a few months. (Let’s say that this “job” was when the whole thing with John Walker happened in TFATWS, idfk lol)

A/N: so I’m currently writing a fanfic (on wattpad) and I had this idea, but I’m not there on the fanfic just yet lol so I decided to just post it here (also, my first language isn’t english so if there are any errors or mistakes, I’m sorry lmao)

The girls are like 4 and 5 years old and those aren’t the names I have planned on using for the fanfic, but it’ll do for now.. and Steve is alive and well lol (he doesn’t make an appearance, but I do mention him, like I said, this idea came as I was writing a fanfic so what I did was try and edit it a little bit so yall don’t need context and shit lol just enjoy okay?)

A/N #2: this is my first time doing this so just bare with me please lmao

It’s almost 10 pm which means Bucky must be on his way to bring the girls back after having them for the weekend. You were away in Seattle the whole weekend for work, but anyways it was Bucky’s turn to stay with the kids. They were supposed to stay with Wanda tonight, but since you arrived earlier than anticipated, you told her that Bucky was gonna bring them over.

You’re not on the best terms. Actually, you’re broken up at the moment and have been like that for like three months now. It all started because of Bucky’s “job”. You always said that he wasn’t being careful with the things he did and you didn’t like the constant worrying about him every time he went out to do his things. He didn’t really see it that way which made you get into a really bad fight and you decided to break up because he wasn’t putting his safety, or his family, as a priority and you didn’t like that.

Which was kinda true. So you’re currently not living together. Bucky has been staying with Steve, or with Sam whenever he comes to New York. The girls usually stay with you and then Bucky takes them on the weekends, but whenever you can’t take them to school (or get them on time) or something on week days, then Bucky takes them without a problem.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to pick them up for you?” Wanda asked while on FaceTime with you

“It’s alright, red, don’t worry.” You replied “Besides, Bucky’s probably on his way anyway.”

“Still haven’t talked?”

“Well we talk, just not about us.” You said walking out of the kitchen

“And are you guys still, like, mad or..?”

“I don’t know.” You let out a sigh

“Steve told you he got out.”

“I know.”

“So?”

“I just.. I don’t know, I haven’t talked to him about it.”

“Well I think you need to.” She said “Just have a little chat and see where things are at.. you guys still love each other.”

And you did. Of course you did. And the girls want you to get back together too. But you just haven’t talked about it again.

“I don’t know, I’ll think about it.” You replied and just as you said that, you saw the car lights through the window “He’s here, I gotta go.”

“Call me if you need anything.”

“I will, love you.”

“Love you more.”

You hung up the call and left the phone on the couch before heading to the door. You opened it and saw Bucky walking over to the house holding Olivia, your youngest, in his arms and Eloise was walking right next to him. And the three of them just looked tired as hell.

“Hi mommy.” Eloise ran over to you

“Hi, pretty girl.” You immediately hugged her

“Say hi to mama, Liv.” Bucky said as he got closer

“Hi mama.” Olivia opened her arms wanting you to pick her up so you did

“Hi, my angel.” You kissed her cheek

“Sorry to bring them so late, we just got out of the cinema.” Bucky said

“Buck, it’s fine, they don’t even go to school yet.” You told him “Did you guys have fun?” You asked the girls

“So much fun!” Eloise replied excitedly “We also went to the trampoline park earlier.”

“Oh well that explains why someone’s a little more tired than others.” You looked at Olivia and she rested her head on your shoulder

“Mommy, can daddy tuck us in tonight, please?” Eloise asked

“Baby, I’m sure mommy had a really long and tired flight and she just wants to sleep.” Bucky told her

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” You said “Daddy will tuck you in, sweetheart.” You tucked a few strands of Eloise’s hair behind her ear

“Daddy, come on.” She grabbed Bucky’s hand

You all went inside and you gave the girls a quick shower before Bucky helped them get in their pjs.

“Mommy, are we staying with auntie Wanda tomorrow?” Eloise asked as she got on her bed

“Yes, baby, I need to go to work.” You replied

“Can’t we stay with daddy?”

“Daddy works too, honey.” You moved her hair out of her face “I thought you liked staying with auntie Wanda.”

“We do, but we wanted to stay with daddy again.” Olivia spoke

“Well I can pick you up at auntie Wanda’s house when I get out of work, how does that sound?” Bucky told them

“And we can get dippin dots too?” Olivia looked at him with puppy eyes

“We can get whatever you girls want.” He said squishing her cheeks making her giggle

You couldn’t help but smile a little. You loved watching Bucky with the girls, he really is an amazing father and they love him like crazy.

“Alright it’s getting super late, time to sleep.” You said to them

“But mom!” Eloise pouted

“No buts, listen to your mom.” Bucky said “Come on, get in bed both of you.”

Each of the girls got in their beds and Bucky went and tucked them both. They have their own separate rooms, but they’re pretty close and they’ve always wanted to sleep in the same room so when the time came and you bought Olivia her big girl bed, Bucky just placed it in Eloise’s room. Anyways, when the time comes when they get to the point where they don’t even want to look at each other, you’ll probably make Bucky move Olivia’s bed back to her room and problem solved. But for now, they absolutely love being in the same room.

“I love you.” Bucky kissed Olivia’s forehead “And I love you.” He then kissed Eloise’s “So so much.”

“We love you too, daddy.” They said

“Now get some sleep because auntie Wanda is coming early tomorrow to pick you up before I leave.” You leaned down to kiss each of them on their heads “I love you both so insanely much.”

“Love you too, mommy.”

“Now go to sleep or I’ll call the slender man.” Bucky said as he turned off the light

He quickly closed the door once you got out of the room and the girls let out a scream that made you both laugh.

“You’re evil.” You chuckled “Creating them traumas so young.”

“It gives them strength.”

You rolled your eyes laughing. “Of course.”

You both went downstairs and then Bucky went back to the car to bring back Olivia’s shoes and a few toys that the girls left in the car. While you put them on the dining table, Bucky was just telling you what they did and how the girls were on the weekend.

“Liv didn’t even asked for my help to wipe her after using the bathroom.”

“No?!” You looked at him kinda shocked

Potty training Eloise was way easier than training Olivia. First she was afraid of the toilet being flushed, then she was afraid that something would come out and bite her, then she didn’t want to stay alone while using the toilet. It’s been a rollercoaster for all of you.

“No, she did it all by herself.”

“Oh my god, really? I’m gonna cry.” You said with a hand on your chest

“She said she’s a big girl and big girls don’t need any help to go potty.”

“She is a big girl.” You said “Fuck, they’re both getting so big.”

“They are.” He nodded “How was Seattle?”

“Fucking amazing.” You said excited “It’s so pretty.”

“And how did it went? Are they planning on transferring you?”

“Hell no, I told Nick I’m not leaving New York.” You replied “If we were still living in the compound, then this would’ve been a whole different conversation, but we’re not and we have kids now so no, I’m not leaving even if they pay me more.”

“Well if they are paying you more then..” he raised his eyebrows

You laughed. “You know what I mean, idiot.” You rolled your eyes “But no, I’m not being transferred.”

“Then why did you go?”

“Nick said that they needed someone like me for some training.” You answered “It was great, I got to teach a few people about self defense, how exciting.”

“I’m glad.” He said with a small smile

He was genuinely happy for you. He knew how much you’ve missed working like that. Being an agent, a spy, you missed it. But at the same time, it wasn’t really in your plans anymore ever since you got pregnant with Eloise. It happened during the blip as well so you weren’t exactly working as an agent or spy anymore so you just decided to leave it behind for good. Until recently.

“You know, if it’s really what you want, then go for it.” He told you “The girls aren’t stopping you and neither am I.”

“I know, but it’s just that I feel like I’m on a different stage in life now.” You said “It felt fucking amazing, don’t get me wrong.”

“Then do it, talk with Nick and tell him to put you out there, that’s what you want.”

“I don’t know.” You let out a sigh

“We’re not going anywhere, you know that, right?” He said and you looked at him “And how cool would it be for the girls to say that their mommy is a spy?”

You laughed. “They will brag about it for sure.”

“And the best part is that you’re great at it and always have been.”

“I don’t know, I’ll think about it.” You shrugged looking at the time on the stove “It’s getting very late.” You looked at him

“Ouch okay, I’m leaving.”

“Oh my god.” You rolled your eyes

“Are we gonna keep this up?” He looked at you

“What?”

“This nonsense.” He motioned his hand between the two of you

“This nonsense?” You arched an eyebrow “Do I need to remind you whose fault is it that we’re on this position right now?”

“It could’ve gone so much better, but little miss I’m extremely petty over here, doesn’t like to listen to people and doesn’t care about anything other than her opinion.” He said

“Oh don’t make me mad, James.” You crossed your arms

“It’s the truth and you know it.”

“I think you can go now.” You said turning around and starting to walk away

“See what I mean?” You heard him say from behind “Can’t we just talk about it like normal people?” He asked following you

“I don’t think there’s anything to talk about.” You said turning around to look at him

“Well I think it is.”

“Bucky..”

“Y/N, come on.” He sighed “It’s been three months, are you gonna keep pushing me away?”

And he’s right, you’ve been kinda pushing him away. To be honest, the whole thing could’ve been avoided if Bucky and you came to an agreement, but you never did. You were upset that he was going away with Sam to do all these things that you weren’t okay with and you were thinking about the kids, which, at the moment, he wasn’t doing and that pissed you off. That was the whole thing. He didn’t want to empathize with the way you were viewing the whole situation and he was kinda making you look crazy. Saying things like “it’s not a big deal” or “everything will be alright, you don’t need to freak out”.

How does he expect you to not freak out when he doesn’t care about doing all this dangerous things? Was he insane?

In other circumstances, if you didn’t have kids for example, maybe you would’ve been a little bit more okay with it, maybe. But it’s a whole different scenario now.

And you were kinda pushing him away, sort of. But it wasn’t intentional, it’s just that you were kinda petty and there were times where he wanted to kinda fix things, but you wouldn’t let him because you would find a way to push him away unconsciously.

“You made me feel like I was exaggerating when I clearly wasn’t.” You said

“Because at the moment I did feel that way and I didn’t want to view the situation the way you were.” He explained “And I know I was wrong for that and I’m sorry.”

You let out a sigh. “You still went.”

“I know, I’m sorry, I should’ve stayed here with you, I regretted it the moment I left with Sam.” He said “And I came back as soon as I could.”

“And you stayed with Steve.” You rolled your eyes

“Baby, you wanted to kill me, do you really think I was just gonna come and ask you to take me back after that shit? Like you were just gonna accept me.”

“… Well, you’re kinda right.”

“I know, Steve told me you were pissed and that you wanted to punch me.”

“I did tell him that.” You nodded

“I’m sorry, I really am.”

“It’s fine, just forget it, I’m sick of the topic anyway.” You replied leaning on the back of the couch

“But are we fine?” He asked

“I don’t know, are we?”

“Well I’d say we are, kinda.” He got closer to you “You want me to do anything?”

“You could start by fixing the damn back door.”

“Again? But I just fixed it a few months ago.”

“Well I think you did it wrong because the doorknob is broken again.”

“I need to change that fucking door already.” He rolled his eyes “Anything else? Are you still mad at me?”

“A little.” You replied

“Just a little?” He moved his hands to your hips “I can help you change your mind.”

“Easy there, soldier.”

“Easy my ass, come here.”

Before you could even protest, his real hand grabbed your neck and he pulled you in for a kiss that screamed need. You really missed his kisses and just the way he would always give you a peck, whenever and wherever, whatever you were doing, he didn’t give a single care in the world. This man could see you sitting on the toilet and he still would go and give you a quick kiss.

“God, I’ve missed you.” He whispered on your lips “I’ve missed you so fucking much.”

“I did too.”

“Can we please never fight again?” He gently put his forehead against yours

“As long as you don’t piss me the fuck off doing some stupid shit like that again, we’re good.”

“Good.” He nodded before kissing you again

“And I swear to god..” you started saying between kisses “If I see you again that close to John Walker, I’m gonna kill you.”

“I know.” He said lowering his hands to the back of your thighs and picking you up

masterlist

a/n: should I post the fanfic here? What do we think? Lol (I’ve been thinking about it A LOT lately)

**UPDATE! I ended up uploading the fanfic and here is the masterlist for it lol

Anywaysss, hope you liked this! <3

(Likes and reblogs will be appreciated)

[bitchlessdino]

put it in writing (m)

In collaboration with @camandemstudios Pairing: college student!seungkwan x Fem!TA!reader Genre: humor, smut Word count: 7.8k tags: college au, TA x student dynamic, push-and-pull, mentions of TXT's soobin, mentions of Ryan Gosling, a lot of fucking lying, explicit content, unprotected sex, hair pulling, cream pies, oral, cum-consumption, pet names (baby, good boy), praise kink Summary: You keep things professional--as you should--even if one of your students is someone you hooked up with one night before the college semester started. Meanwhile, Boo Seungkwan is anything but honest--he's a writer after all--but if he is honest about one thing, it's about wanting to write a new story with you. a/n: thank you @highvern @sluttyminghao and @strxwberry-skiess for beta reading <3 (late note: I wanna thank @gyuswhore @highvern and @haologram for the brainstorming if I forgot to mention anyone I’m sorry. They’ve been a really big help and we’re super motivating and supportive the entire process I love yall 💕)

You don’t go out. Period. As simple as that.

Until tonight. 

Summer is almost over, and once it ends, you’ll be Professor Yoo’s newest TA. You've worked hard to get to this point and despite the inevitable late-night grading sessions, you expect the experience to be rewarding and maybe even inspirational. You’re sure this achievement would make your academic-forward parents proud. Their daughter, at the top of her class, brimming with excitement and potential, jobs coming in from left and right, all while on her way to...a Writing degree. 

The one downside: they didn’t believe a writing degree would lead to anything substantial. Not like Biomedical engineering or Accounting. The one degree worse than Art. You almost forgot that writing was useless in their eyes because who couldn’t just pick up a pen and paper to scribble some words down?

You down another cheap shot of tequila, muttering your grievances under your breath as your friends revel in the club's pulsating atmosphere. They are only mildly concerned with your drinking habits, accustomed to your tightly wound, studious nature. Typically, you are the one buried in textbooks, rarely venturing into the party scene. Yet tonight, you surprise them all with your ironclad liver, effortlessly downing shots without a hint of a stumble.

“You, okay?”

You scoff, taking yet another shot, “Really depends what that means. ‘Okay’ as in life or ‘okay’ as in financially, mentally, emotionally, sexually, and-slash-or physically fulfilled with proud parents that love me unconditionally?”

“Oh, boy.” Hyeri tries to tear you away from any more alcohol and lays you flat against the back of the leather booth, twisting the top of a water bottle before putting it on your lips. “Let's get you hydrated, hmm? Can’t have you hungover the next day. I’ll be the one you’re complaining to.”

“Suffer my consequences!”

“Of course, darling.”

Hyeri, your steadfast friend since high school and now a new TA from another university, is like a sister to you. She knows your every habit and inclination, no matter how shit-faced you decide to get. “Don’t look, but there’s supple skin, high cheekbones, and a pretty smile looking directly at you.”

You subtly fix your gaze and accidentally meet the young man’s eyes as he nurses a highball glass between his lips. His eyes narrow back at you with interest. You muse back at him, mimicking his action with the water bottle in your grasp. As you drink with your eyes glued on his expression, the water passes over your lips, with the excess trickling suggestively down your chin and neck, your skin glistening in its sheen.

His lips part, dropping in a smug smile–and my, was it prettier than anticipated–and tilt his head as if quietly beckoning you closer. 

“I’m going over there.” 

Before you could get up from your booth, Hyeri is there to immediately tug you back down, eyes full of concern. “Are you sure, hon? You had quite a bit to drink.”

Your eyes crease as you smile back at her reassuringly. “I’ll be fine.”

“He looks young, he probably doesn't even know what a 401k is.”

“Do any of us?” You leave off before striding in the direction of the pretty boy, who still can’t keep his eyes off you.

You weave through the sea of sweaty bodies, sidestepping spilled drinks and the pulsating lights of the dance floor, your eyes locked on him. His gaze trails you with every step, a flicker of anticipation in his eyes, speaking to you like an incantation. When you finally reach his feet, the distance closing with each heartbeat, his smile grows wider, more inviting. The moment your legs brush against the softness of his leather couch, he leans to maintain your locked gaze, a now more playful glint in his eyes. Your smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Is this seat taken?”

“Only by you if anyone else asks,” he smoothly responds.

You gently lower yourself beside him, lifting one leg to cross it over the other, feeling the cool leather beneath you. His eyes follow your every movement, lingering on the curve of your thigh as it presses against the other. You lean in slightly, your curiosity evident in the arch of your brow. “Why all alone? With a face as pretty as yours, I’d expect someone to be all over you by now.”

He shifts his body toward you, his eyes drinking in your appearance, savoring every detail from the whip of your hair and to glitter on your legs. Meanwhile, the subtle spicy sweet scent of his cologne mingles with the ambient aromas of the club, and you can’t even breathe the air without the desire to jump his bones. Especially one in particular.

He regains his smile, a slow, confident curve of his lips, and extends a hand toward you. “I could say the same for you. I’m Seungkwan.”

You take his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch and the gentle caress of his thumb against your knuckles. With a graceful nod, you gave him a firm handshake. You return the gesture by introducing yourself, your voice smooth and inviting, matching the rhythm of the music that pulses around you, and that seems to only grow his interest. “What a pretty name. You’ve been here long?”

“Just long enough,” you say, your voice carrying a playful challenge.

“What is it that someone like you does to want to let loose in a place like this?”

“Mmh, I don’t know. It really depends on how much you’re willing to share,” you reply, narrowing your eyes and taking in that body begging to be undressed.

“Well, if you must know, I work somewhere…uncommon,” he says, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

You lean in too, resting your elbow on the back of the couch and propping your chin on your hand, your fingers lightly brushing your lips. “Do tell, Seungkwan.”

“Don’t be surprised, but I’m a bit of a big deal, especially around here,” he brags.

You raise an eyebrow, ready to bite. “That’s very vague. Mind elaborating?”

He briefly shifts his eyes to glance around the room, the smile never leaving his lips. He leans in closer, his breath warm and tickling against your ear, making it burn. “Just know I know the ins and outs of this club,” he whispers, his voice a tantalizing murmur. “Some information you might find even surprising that no one else knows.”

You pull back slightly, your eyes locking onto his, a spark of intrigue dancing between you. “Sounds like you’ve got some secrets,” you murmur, your voice low and rich. You reach for his drink from the table in front of you, your fingers brushing against his thigh for balance as you lift the glass to your lips. You take a slow, deliberate sip, not minding that its rim has touched a stranger's lips. “How sketchy,” you dare insult with a playful glint in your eye as you set the glass back down.

“Care to find out?”

“What part of ‘ sketchy’ did you not understand?” You softly laugh.

“I promise it’s harmless,” his voice brimming with mischief, poking the inside of his cheek playfully. “Or at least, you’d have a little fun.”

You hum amused. “Define fun.”

He takes you by the hand, his touch firm yet gentle, leading you away from the pulsating dance floor to a secluded corner of the club. The music echoes softly in the background, its bass reverberating through the walls. You follow him through a maze of dimly lit corridors and alcoves, catching glimpses of other partygoers lost in their own worlds.

The air changes as you enter an empty private space, cooler and quieter than the crowded main room. Your eyes fall on a single secluded corner with windows going ceiling to floor, flooding the room with skylight. The faint scent of his cologne lingers in the air, mixing with the faint aroma of alcohol and the crisp air of a cracked open window too high to reach.

As you settle into a seat in front of the windows, you observe the city through the crystal clear glass, drinking in the scene of small tables adorned with flickering candles, and erotic artwork adorning the walls. The music from the main floor is muted here like the world behind closed doors fell silent for this moment, and only you two are left in the room to bask in it. If temptation was room, this had to be it.

There’s a subtle shift in his eyes, a flicker of something unreadable—resembling pride—before they revert back to his calm suavity. He assumes the seat next to you on the plush velvet couch tucked into a private nook that touches the light of the stars. The soft glow of ambient lights casts a warm, intimate ambiance around you, contrasting with the pulsating beats of the club music that drifts in from the main floor.

“It’s a V.V.I.P area,” Seungkwan explains in a low voice, “Some of the employees don’t even know it exists.”

“But someone like you does?” you inquire, your voice tinged with intrigue.

He shrugs nonchalantly, a hint of pride evident in his demeanor as his body dipped into the leather. “I have my way around here.”

“Really?” you tease, growing slowly more convinced.

Seungkwan meets your gaze with a playful grin. “I obviously can’t tell you everything,” he says, his tone brimming with mischief. “Just know that I’m involved in ways that keep this place running smoothly. The club would die without me.”

You chuckle softly, savoring his playful confidence, and leaning against the cushions, head turned to him. “What can you tell me?” you ask, your voice growing softer. Your finger traces a teasing path down the collar of his shirt, undoing a button with deliberate slowness. “Humor me,” you exhale, your breath brushing against his ear and your gaze locked with his.

You can hear his breath hitch, and finally, you have him right where you want him. He fixes on the way your legs cross, tracing the curve of your calf up to where they disappear under the hem of your skirt. He seems momentarily captivated by the subtle movement of your flesh as they collide against each other, giving hardly any brain capacity to cumulate words.

You notice the furrow of his brow, a slight tilt of his head—as if he were mentally dissecting his thoughts. The dim lighting cast shadows across his face, highlighting the intensity in his eyes tried to regain clarity. You can almost visualize the gears turning in his mind, each cog clicking into place as he forms a coherent story, if any.

Each word comes out in complete shambles and he is saying more nothing than anything. Whatever the truth is at this point, you don’t care. Seungkwan is just too cute to pass up.

The clearing of his throat tells you he’s finished, the tilt of his smile growing less confident and more anxious as your weight pushes against his chest. He tries to come back from his stumble, picking off strands of hair in front of your face and playing with their ends before changing the subject. “Now tell me your work. What is so amazing that you do?”

“I’m—“ a teacher’s aid in massive debt on their way to graduating with potentially a useless degree neither of their parents is proud of because, although you love it,  you’re too proud to say otherwise, “—a indie movie producer with one of the films up for a reward. Super lowkey right now, but…we got Gosling.” You shrug, impressed with your own lies. “So, things are looking up.”

“That’s quite impressive.” he hums, intrigued and interested in hearing about more. “Is he as nice in real life as he is in interviews?”

“Ryan’s got a screw or two loose, but pretty okay guy. At least not into Scientology or anything.”

“Interesting,” He gaze dips towards you, being drawn to you immensely, if not locking eyes with you, scanning over your features, particularly your lips that wished to be claimed. “You call all big-name celebrities by their first name?”

You shrug, the lying coming more and more naturally than anticipated. “Only the ones I’m close with.”

His palm hugs the curve of your cheek, thumb softly brushing against your bottom lip. “I wonder what getting close to you entails.”

“Are you planning on finding out?”

You give each other a long look, one that keeps waiting and ushering the other until your lips decidedly crash into his. His lips part, making way for your presence, the heat of the kiss flushing your skin and pleased shivers running throughout your entire body. Your breath hitches when you feel his teeth pulling your flesh and a soft sigh escapes his lips before his hand creeps behind your head and muffles a moan that neither were sure from who.

You lift your body from the couch, chasing his pace, and pull him closer, kissing him deeper with all your might. You crawl over his lap, straddling his hips, hands in his hair, breath on his skin. Your chest tightens as he presses you closer by the small of your back, to which you gasp as you part from his lips.

He finds your gaze, his round and glistening eyes meeting yours in soft urgency. “You okay? Something wrong?”

You shake your head, palm clasped against your burning face. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

He lets out an amused scoff. “Keep up, Miss producer.”

Your lips reconnect, and fireworks play in your like it’s the fourth of July. Popping and popping. Your lip lock only intensifies as your tongues brush against one another, entangling deeper and soon you realize Seungkwan wasn’t one just to kiss with his lips. 

You ball his clothes in fists when his hands use your hips, running them over his lap, the friction so tantalizing you could hear temptation like a devil on your shoulder. You let him take you, moving towards him replicating crashing waves against sand. Loud. Harsh. Seamless.

Clothes come off soon after, starting with the delicate unbuttoning of Seungkwan’s silk top–donning the torso of one fond of sports and sprayed in excitable perspiration–before then he levers you up and slides slacks down his thighs hurriedly. His bare legs crushed underneath yours, you readily pull up your dress, bunching at your waist as feel him unzip the back, the metal chill against your spine.

“Fuck,” he softly mutters, eagerly digging his fingers in your exposed flesh and whimpering against your kiss. “Don’t hold back with me.”

“Hold back?” you repeat with a chuckle, your fingers that threaded through his hair pulling his head back, angling his head so that he was forced to look up at you in what currently looks to be in awe. “You don’t have to worry about that with me.”

“Shit stirrer, huh? I guess that’s why you’re the one handling production.”

Your lips begin to trail down his jaw, front teeth nipping his skin. “Real question is, would you let me handle yours?”

“I’d let you do anything to me,” he mumbles, earnest in every word, every inch of his body vibrating off yours, including the hardening presence between his legs pressing against your stomach. “Just don’t stop.”

Your dress abandoned on the floor, Seungkwan claiming your tits in either hand, kneading them between his fingers as he’s rolling his hips against your plush flesh and feeling your radiating core slide against his shaft. He involuntarily moans through a bitten bottom lip, imagining you ride him just like this until the end of time, thinking he could cum from this alone until he feels you move the tip of his size towards your entrance. “Oh god,” he gives out, the head of his cock readily grazing over your slit, quickly pleased. “So fucking wet. Fuck…”

“I want you inside me,” you admit, not bothering to subdue your desires. “I want to put you inside me and make me feel every inch of you.”

“Fuck…me…” he presses into your skin flushed against one another, lips curled downward in impatience, gripping your full thighs to either of his sides. “I wanna fuck you so bad. Please give yourself to me.”

“You promise you’ll handle it like a good boy?” You tease, pushing his tip only a centimeter deeper.

“Please, please, anything. I just wanna feel that pussy choke me please.” He begs.

Your hand clamps against the couch enthusiastically, “Fuck you’re so needy. That’s so hot.” Gingerly, you reward his pleas, feeling his raw length make contact with your contracting walls, squeezing around his girth and making Seungkwan flip his eyes before he starts guiding your hips.

“Fuck that’s so good, baby.”

You lightly scoff. “Baby? A little soon don’t you think?”

“Thought we found some common ground when you decided for me to fuck you. My mistake,” he chides.

You catch a tendril of his hair between your fingers, “Maybe it’s how you fuck me that grants you such a term of endearment.”

“Better up my game then.” He lifts you up, tangling your legs around his waist before he pushes you on your back, swiftly slamming his hips against you.

Your head crashes deep into the leather, the musky scent of sex now invading your nose as you drown in heat. “Shit.”

“Making sure I get the advantage.” He folds forward to press against you, your breasts back in his hands before his lips wrap around a nipple, his tongue attacking your sensitivity before he inevitably sucks. He leaves you in an ache, your hips thrusting back into him conveniently in time for him to regain his rhythm.

“S-Seungkwan…”

His moan vibrates against your skin, teeth pulling your nipple as he thrusts deeper, grazing your deep end just perfectly not enough. Fucking tease.

You whine beneath him, squirming. Your legs tighten around him, attempting to make friction, and finding a growl in your throat as a hand of Seungkwan’s squeezes your behind. A whole ass cheek in the clutches of his well-groomed hands, squeezing and memorizing its swell, while he’s splitting you in half to deduce you to a bumbling horny mess.

“Where have you been all my life?” He mumbles with glee.

You clench your fists behind him as he heightens his pace, melting into the tender assault of his lips that burn your skin and silence your voice. He ruts into you deeper, pounding away his frustrations and when he makes it known he’s found your spot, you make it clear as day.

“Oh god,” you groan, gripping him tighter. Your jaw drops slack, silent screams coming out of you, and you cling to him like in desperation to maintain that high as you claw against his broad back.

“That’s so good. Is it right there, am I hitting your spot, baby?” he asks with an exhausted grin.

You nod, softly pleading for more, and he generously grants. In an attempt to intensify your core’s pleasure, his hand cups just above your slit, fingers finding your blossoming bud. Your breath is shot, feeling the caress of his thumb press down before rubbing your arousal around your clit. Your hips thrust into his touch, gripping him by the shoulders, feeling your combined sweat drip from your sides and squeaking against the couch fabric.

“Oh my god, oh my god…” You can’t control it anymore. Seungkwan isn’t just pushing you past the edge, he's shoving you off.

“Like that, baby. Yes, what good girl cumming all over my cock,” he sweetly praises.

You reach him by the back of his head and propel him forward, colliding lips in a fervent liplock. Your moans drowned between one another, your climax coming in tenfold as he didn’t for a second stop, even well after you came. 

Yet, it isn’t enough. Seungkwan shifts and tugs your legs to border his torso. He lifts himself from the ground, his feet flat, shutting your legs tight, having the sweat of your thighs chafe against another unsettlingly. It then becomes completely overlooked with his hips, his cock starts pushing in and out of you, and folding himself into you with your closed legs as your pussy choked around his cock. Your walls pulsating around him, hot and lush, he death grips your body and watches your flesh recoil back against him deliciously. 

“Fucking shit,” he groans, plunging deeper as your cries moisten your cheeks and he brings you to a foreign level of ecstasy. 

His release from what you can tell is thick, warm, and inviting. Your legs find a mind of their own when they decide to lock the stranger in place, feel every ounce of pure pleasure shooting down inside you, coating you in your collaborative efforts, and residing peacefully deep, deep in your sore heat. 

Your lover collapses against you, eyes barely managing to open as he guides your bodies in a more comfortable position, his cum and cock still inside you. 

He’s softly pant, red on every inch of his face, residual from his raging orgasm and…fluster? “I…I don’t usually—“

“I don’t mind,” you gently reassure, brushing away the sweat-soaked hair from his forehead. “I wanted that to happen.”

“But what if—“

“It’s nothing you have to worry about,” you hint and fortunately he gets the clue, cuddling up to you closer.

“Good.” He nods, sounding off in relief.

You play with his ear, thumbing over the flaming red tip. “That was really good.”

The boy can’t help but grin, “I make good on my promises…and if you want, we can do it again.”

Your movement stops. “Oh.” Now you’re panicking. “I don’t think we should.”

His cock slips out of you with ease at your confession, both flaccid and disappointed as cum drips down the leather. “Why not? I thought you liked it.”

You begin sitting up, taking Seungkwan with you. “Of course I do! It’s just…my schedule doesn’t allow me to date—let alone see people outside of work—so, this wouldn’t work.” You offer him an apologetic pat on the back, feeling the muscles pulse against you before you regretfully pull away. “This is actually my last night in town, I was gonna leave soon for another shoot…but this was wonderful.”

You cup his cheek, flushed red and soft as can be, and kiss its fullness, letting your lips linger. “I’m so sorry.” For absolutely lying about everything about me when you gave me the most incredible orgasm I’ve had in centuries and to myself for cutting lose the hottest fucking man fiction and nonfiction you’ve ever fucking met.

“No, I get it,” he answers, a hint of sorrow in his gaze. “You got things going for you. That’s ok. Just let me know when you’re in town, hmm? We can get together again, maybe?”

His sense of hope is admirable, something you saw in yourself a few years ago before the toppling towers of crippling debt fell on you. “I don’t think so, handsome.”

He sighs. “Alright. I get it.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head with a knowing smile. “Don’t be.”

“You ended my vacation the best way you could’ve,” you egg on, “Couldn’t have ended my last night in town any better.”

“Yeah?” He chuckles, finally a light flickering back in his eyes. “Then maybe I can give you a parting gift.”

You raise an eyebrow, following his figure leaving your body and find his knees back in the ground and between your legs, “Seungkwan?”

“Can’t have you leave a mess.” His hand glides over your thighs, gaze flickering from you and your cunt oozing in cum, and his full lips kissing your inner thigh, tingling legs and garnering goosebumps down your shins.

“Are you actually—“

His tongue scraps on the skin just next to your lips, a mixture of your climax settling on his tongue, and you mewl at the sight. He kneads your flesh, his moans tickling your skin and admiring it how he knew how: worship.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” His fingers play against your sensitive folds, tension pressed on your clit. “You’re everything I could want…tasting you and pleasing you is the least I could do.”

His mouth wrapped around your lips before sucking, tongue parting what’s between, and sighing at the harmonious flavor dancing inside his mouth. Your worn walls contract around him, it feeds his desire as he pushes his face deeper inside you, and melts at your hands finding hair in soft strokes. 

Your voice aches for another release. The sensation of his jaw locking and nodding in your heat as his tongue fucks his cum back inside you drives you to up a wall. You squirm the faster he flicks his tongue, legs pulling back and forward, overwhelmed by Seungkwan’s mouth until he holds either one at either side, locking it around his neck.

His eyes ooze with determination and his face falls from color. The compromising position he put himself in is not one free consequence, but for the last single of the most greatest fuck of his life, losing a bit of oxygen was worth it, and his efforts are soon proven.

When you cum this time on his tongue, Seungkwan has never tasted anything sweeter, or rather bittersweet knowing this would be the last he’d get the chance to. He’s tasting you, savoring you, worshiping you. From the scent of your body, to the face you make, from what you feed him. If he knew how impossibly decadent you just were–only for you to leave–maybe he wouldn’t have done this. Or maybe he would.

Reluctantly, Seungkwan breaks apart from your lips to reconnect with another. One last shared, heated breath of this spontaneous exchange. One that he’d remember for a long time, and think about over long nights. Tenderly, your foreheads are the ones to kiss in a silent farewell, sad smiles on both your faces.

“Thank you…for reminding me what it feels like to live my own life.”

The pretty boy softly scoffs, kissing you once more, the tingle his lips lingering on yours. “Make your stories magical as you’ve made my night. Take care, Miss Producer.”

You quickly get dressed before the sexy stranger pulls you right back in his trace and you drag your friend and club attendee all the way back home, giving you the pleasure of finally resting in bed, body still aching from the sweltering sex hours ago. Sadly, without the warm body you enjoyed so much tonight. He made a lasting impression on you and you hope maybe one day on better circumstances you’ll meet again and the lie may someday be true. If you’re so lucky.

Eventually, summer takes its final laps and you’re entering the college semester and start working closely with the professor you’re aiding. The matter that your life is slowly being sucked away becomes more real the longer you look at his lesson plan and although you love writing, you know you’re about to dread the long evenings of paperwork to come. 

The first day of being a TA: get in the building by the car you have barely hanging on, meet with the professor, get in lectures and “TA”, skim through your new work for graduate classes, and sadly eat your late lunch/dinner alone because you know the ziplock of trail mix marinating in your backpack would not be enough. That’s the plan. Easy to follow.

Students start trickling into the classroom about twenty minutes before actual lecture time, some with nervous faces and excited expressions. Then a few minutes before the lecture starts, hoards of students are coming through, the classroom getting louder and louder as there is not enough space for white noise. You feel your heart beating increasingly–admittedly more nervous than anticipated–finding yourself focused on papers to avoid eyes with the other students until you can’t anymore.

With over 100 students, you start to feel like an imposter, a kid playing dress-up in her mom’s closet. Normally, you're not one to get nervous on the first day, but being a teacher’s assistant makes this situation different. You’re terrified of screwing up, whether it’s a big mistake or a small one. You tell yourself you need to get out of your head.

When roll call becomes necessary, the professor hands you the clipboard, forcing you to introduce yourself and make your presence known. Your hands tremble from natural nerves as you call out the names on the list, doing your best to pronounce each one clearly and coherently. Then your gaze lands on a name all too familiar, one that’s been on the tip of your tongue before. You can’t help but look up, eager to hear the voice that responds.

He stares at you, a look of pleasant surprise on his face, his lips curling up at the corners as his eyes gleam with intrigue—just like that night before.

You clear your throat, quickly averting your gaze, and resume roll call. You decide right then to ignore him for the rest of the day, the semester, and possibly the rest of your college career, if you can help it.

When you finish, you don’t dare look up again, telling yourself it’s because it’s the first day. You’ve done everything you needed to do for now.

As the lecture wraps up, it’s time to leave. The professor dismisses the class and exits the room, leaving you to pick up the pieces and answer any lingering questions from students. You just hope this particular student isn’t one of them.

“I had a question, Miss LN.”

You’re reminded that hope is just another word for wishful thinking. You don’t need to look up to know who it is. His voice is already etched into your memory, feeding the part of you that wants to respond, and you clench your thighs at the memory.

“Sure, what… um, what is it?” you respond, still not looking up.

“It’s about the syllabus. I was hoping we could discuss it in private?” His tone carries a hint of something familiar, something that doesn’t belong between a student and a teacher’s assistant.

“The syllabus is pretty self-explanatory,” you reply, trying to keep your voice neutral, though your pulse quickens.

“But I wanted to ask, just in case I misinterpreted anything.”

You make a show of straightening the papers on your desk, the crisp shuffle loud enough to make it clear you’re not amused. “You're a writing major. I’m sure you understand everything just fine.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to check,” he says, a casual shrug masking the intent behind his words.

You sigh, knowing you won’t easily shake him off. Finally, you meet his gaze, catching the anticipation simmering in his eyes. With a resigned breath, you gather your belongings and stand. “Fine, follow me.”

As you lead him to a tucked-away corner, your footsteps echo in the quiet hallway. You glance around to ensure there are no prying eyes before stopping. He waits until you’re both out of sight before speaking, his voice lowering in that familiar way that sends a shiver down your spine. “So, how’s the indie film coming along, Miss Producer?”

Your arms cross instinctively, a barrier against the playful look on his face. His eyes sparkle with amusement, as if this is all a game to him. As if your college career and your career career didn’t hang on the very balance of this conversation and your history. “Very funny,” you reply, glaring at him. “Just two big liars caught in their own webs of lies. How serendipitous.”

He chuckles softly, the sound unnervingly familiar and instinctively arousing. “I know why I lied, but why did you?”

You plant a hand to your chest defensively. “Excuse me, I never anticipated seeing you ever again. It’s natural I’d lie—wait, why did you lie?”

“To get laid. Duh.” He answers as if it was the obvious thing in the world.

You roll your eyes, back knocking against the wall behind you. “Of course, fucking dumbass college boys.”

“You fell for it, so who’s the dumbass now?”

“Still you? Were you even drinking age?”

“Uh, yes that’s how I got in, otherwise they never would’ve let me in.”

Your palm runs over your face in embarrassment, cringing for long nights of thinking of your student of all fucking people. “I fucking knew you didn’t own the Gemstone.”

“Yet, you fucked me anyway.”

You rush towards him, your breath catching as you pin your fingers in front of your lips and hiss, “Will you shut your mouth?”

He crosses his arms, leaning back against the wall, a smug smile playing on his lips. “Why? You’re a TA, not a professor.It’s perfectly kosher.”

“It’s still highly frowned upon to fraternize in that manner, regardless of whether I’m a TA or a professor. I grade your fucking papers,” you shoot back, your eyes narrowing as the frustration rises in your chest.

He just shrugs, that infuriating grin never leaving his face. “Hey, if it gets me a good grade…”

“Or watch me fucking fail you,” you snap, stepping even closer, your voice low and dangerous. “Don’t you ever speak a word about that night again, got it?”

His smile falters slightly, but he quickly recovers, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, geez.”

“Good.”

But he can’t resist one last jab, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “My lips—and pants—are sealed.”

“Seungkwan!” You hiss his name, barely keeping your voice down, your cheeks flushing with a mix of anger and something else you refuse to acknowledge.

He chuckles, clearly enjoying himself. “Oh, it’s been a while since you screamed my name.”

You grit your teeth and speak through harsh whispers, your patience wearing thin. 

“I will drop-kick you if you don’t shut the fuck up.”

He grins wider, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he leans in just a fraction. “Like I said, I keep my promises. See you on Wednesday, Miss TA.”

With that, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there, seething, the echo of his footsteps fading down the hallway. The air still buzzes with the tension between you, and you take a moment to collect yourself before heading back, wondering how you’re going to survive the rest of the semester with him in your class. If all your encounters are like this, you might as well quit now.

As expected, that initial confrontation isn’t the last you see of Seungkwan. While being your student, your forced interactions have become a bit of a spectacle among other students, especially considering Seungkwan stares back at you every lecture like you’re the only two people in the room. His routine of pestering during and after lectures has become something his peers have look forward to and you wonder if this kind of thing is normal for a teacher’s assistant.

It seems to have stirred up varying opinions, even among students from other classes—ones far removed from your department, who typically wouldn’t give a second thought to your work. The rumors have even reached the ears of other TAs, the ones you’ve built strong camaraderie with, turning casual conversations into whispered speculations. Some of those speculations have been harmless, fueled by curiosity and mild intrigue. But others? They’ve taken on more confrontational, and their tense gazes have you questioning just how far these rumors have gone.

But is it really a rumor if its all true?

"So, you and that Seungkwan kid, what's that about?"

You give a grand sigh, the weight of your colleague's curiosity pressing down on you as he peers at you, eyes alight with nosy mischief. His intent is clear—he's fishing for details about your relationship with one of your many students. But Seungkwan is different. Far different, even if you’d never admit that aloud knowing how your reputation would stand.

"Really not your business, bud," you reply, trying to keep your tone light, though it’s hard to miss the edge beneath your words.

Your colleague, Soobin, raises an eyebrow, completely unfazed by your attempt to shut him down. "Funny enough, I’m in the business of making things my business."

You scoff, fingers curling tightly around the handle of your freshly brewed coffee, the warmth of the cup your only source of comfort in this conversation. The rich aroma wafts up, offering a brief distraction. "He's my student, obviously, and he’s going to stay that way."

The words come out sharper than intended, the finality of your tone surprising even you. You take a long sip of the coffee, letting the bitterness anchor you. This conversation is tiptoeing too close to a line you’re not ready to cross.

Soobin raises his hands in mock surrender, though there’s a knowing glint in his eyes. "Okay, okay. No need to be so defensive. Good thing you’re keeping it professional."

"I know that. Why are you mansplaining, Soobin? Don’t you have work to do?"

"Of course. Just wanted to point out—it’d be a real problem if you did."

"Uh, yeah. Obviously."

"Good."

"Good."

"I just wouldn’t want to lose anything over it."

You narrow your eyes at him. "What now?"

He hesitates before continuing, grinning sheepishly. "Okay, okay. There might be a bet going around about whether or not you and that kid sleep together again."

"What the—again? Again? What are you talking about?" You gape at him, incredulity painting your features as you struggle to process his words.

"Oh, come on, don’t play dumb," Soobin says with an exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes. "Everyone knows."

You blink, your mind racing to catch up. "…Everyone?"

"Everyone." He nods emphatically, the corners of his mouth twitching as he takes in your stunned reaction.

Your face falls, and you run a hand through your hair in frustration, your shoulders slumping. "Well, fuck." The words escape you like a dismayed exhale, your voice tinged with disbelief.

"And I bet that you wouldn’t. At least, not until the end of the semester."

"You bet  money on me?" You’re seething, anger now directed at him.

"Not money," Soobin says quickly, raising his hands in a defensive gesture, as if to ward off any further criticism. He leans in slightly, his tone taking on a pleading edge. "But seriously, just don’t do it, okay? Be a good TA and a good friend. Don’t sleep with the boy. Just... don't."

You glare at him, incredulous. "I oughta do it just to make you lose."

"Please don’t! It wasn’t money I bet!"

You narrow your eyes further. "What did you bet, then?"

Soobin shifts uncomfortably. "Just... test answers."

"Soobin."

"Please! Just help me win this. I’m begging you!" Soobin’s voice is desperate, his eyes wide and pleading.

“You could jeopardize your scholarships with this kind of bet.”

“So don’t let me lose this one!” His frustration is palpable, his hands clasped together as if in prayer.

“I could just hit you,” you threaten, though the words come out more resigned than menacing.

“But I’m so lovely. Don’t you think?” Soobin’s attempt at levity falls flat, his forced grin barely concealing his anxiety.

“Soobin, this is seriously messed up.”

He continues, undeterred, “The money I could win could buy me a new apartment to rent out. I’d finally be able to move off-campus.”

“This is so fucked up,” you mutter, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I know, I’m literally on my knees here, dude,” Soobin says, lowering himself as if pleading for mercy.

You run a hand through your hair, trying to stave off the growing irritation. “Fine, damn it. Okay. I hope you’ve fucking learned your lesson and won’t pull this kind of stunt again.”

You meet his gaze head-on, your patience visibly thinning. "Are we done here?"

He nods vigorously, a small, almost imperceptible smile of relief tugging at the corners of his lips. "Of course."

As Soobin walks away, you watch him go, the remnants of the conversation hanging in the air like the fading scent of coffee. You take another sip of your drink, this time more deliberately, letting the warmth seep into you. You try to channel your remaining energy into something productive, determined to salvage what’s left of your day. The knowledge of the bet and the weight of your friend’s reputation hanging in the balance makes every decision weigh heavy on your shoulders.

Despite the sprawling campus and the vast number of students, gossip is as vibrant and pervasive as ever. Seungkwan doesn’t help matters, especially with the frequent discussions you’re having about his late assignments. No matter how stern and resolute your tone becomes, he meets you with a gaze that’s both wistful and enigmatic. His eyes, filled with a mix of wonder and intrigue, follow your every movement. They start by meeting yours directly, then drift downward, lingering on your face, then lower, then lower, and finally–

"Are you paying attention, Seungkwan? Or am I going to have to talk to Professor Yoon about you finally dropping the class?"

Seungkwan leans against the auditorium chairs, averting his attention to the sharp expression on your face, a smug smile tugging at his lips. "No, nothing of the sort, Miss TA. Please, continue to lecture me about what an awful student I am."

Your eyes narrow as you cross your arms, forward on your desk, tapping your foot with growing impatience as you shuffle through to gather your belongings. "I will—and starting where your assignments have been showing up several days late. I can’t keep making exceptions for you."

"Why not? You’re so good at making me feel special," he teases, head tilted, his voice dripping with a sultry sarcasm.

Your patience snaps as you sharply tap the stack of aligned papers on the desk, the sound echoing through the room. "Stop it, will you? Your grade is sinking fast, and at this rate, you’ll be repeating the class."

He shrugs, that maddening grin still in place. "Would that really be so bad? You’d get a whole new semester with me."

You scoff, standing upright, pacing a few steps as frustration simmers just beneath the surface. "Are you seriously going to waste your tuition money just to fail? At least pretend to make an effort. Chatgpt exists for students like you I’m assuming."

He tilts his head slightly, eyes gleaming with mischief. "If only someone wasn’t so distracting, maybe I could. You’d understand, Miss TA."

You stop mid-step, spinning to face him, your voice sharp. "Enough. And stop calling me that—it’s like you get off on it."

"Oh, I do." The playful tone in his voice is laced with something else now, something heavier.

Your jaw clenches, heat rising to your face, thighs sealed against one another.. "Your assignments. On time. By the end of this week, or I’ll recommend to Professor Yoon that you drop the class."

"Fine," he mutters, his tone nonchalant, the smirk still lingering lazily on his lips as he halfheartedly stuffs his books into his bag. His movements are careless, and a few sheets of notebook paper slip out, drifting lazily to the floor without him even noticing.

You sigh, bending down to pick them up. As you straighten, your eyes unintentionally flick over the handwritten lines—only for something to catch your attention. You freeze, blinking at the words on the page. "What the...?"

Seungkwan’s demeanor changes in an instant. His eyes widen, and he lunges forward, panic flashing across his face. "Don’t read that!" His voice is more urgent, almost desperate.

But you dodge his grasp, holding the paper just out of reach, your brow furrowing. "What is this? And why is it actually... interesting?"

"Give it back," he says, his tone softer, pleading now. 

"Why don’t you put this much effort into your assignments?" you ask, glancing up at him, your curiosity overtaking your frustration.

Before you can react, Seungkwan steps closer, his movements more deliberate this time. He snatches the paper from your hands, but his proximity catches you off guard. He’s standing close—too close—backing you into the edge of your desk. His face is flushed, his breath coming in shallow bursts, and you can see the embarrassment in his narrowed eyes, the tips of his ears burning red.

Your heart stutters in your chest, your breath hitching as the space between you seems to shrink. The air feels thick, charged with something you know too fucking well. For a moment, neither of you moves, your eyes locked like you’re frozen. You’re acutely aware of every small detail—the way his fingers clutch the paper tightly, how his chest rises and falls with each breath, the warmth radiating from him as he towers just slightly over you.

Suddenly, he stumbles, his foot catching on the leg of the desk, and you gasp as his weight nearly knocks you backward. Your hands shoot out, gripping the edge of the desk to steady yourself. Your glasses slip down your nose as you blink up at him, your pulse quickening, his face inches from yours.

"Sorry," Seungkwan mutters, quickly pulling away, flustered as he hurriedly gathers the fallen papers, stuffing them into his bag. "I’ll do the assignments. Just... don’t fail me. And don’t repeat whatever you think you read."

Without waiting for your reply, he storms out of the room, leaving you standing there, your chest heaving, the ghost of his presence lingering in the suddenly too-quiet space.

You try to steady your breath, ignoring how ragged it had become, and the unsettling way your blood pulsed—not just through your heart, but in places you'd rather not acknowledge. You forcefully push those thoughts aside, desperate for any distraction. Tonight, that distraction would be class assignments.

With an iced coffee marinating at the corner of your office desk, the papers in front of you blur as his face flashes through your head. You can’t help but recall the way his lips looked—full and slightly parted, the way his eyes gleamed with a mix of defiance and something else entirely. And the warmth of him—how heavy and undeniably right he felt as he leaned over you, his presence lingering even after he was gone.

You shake your head, determined to refocus on grading, gripping the red pen a little tighter. But your mind drifts again, this time to the words you’d glimpsed on that crumpled page. The writing had a familiarity to it, something deeply personal that tugged at the corners of your mind. Reminding you of how much you remembered that night. Specifically how good that night felt.

‘Her whispers, haunting, breath heavy. She gazes at me with eyes full of want, strands of hair falling over her forehead, tantalizing and wild. Her cheek is warm beneath my hand as I pull her closer, our lips meeting, tasting the sweetness of something long desired but never claimed. For this night, she is mine—even if it's only for this night alone.’

Your cheeks flush as the memory hits, the realization settling in with a mix of shock and something you can't quite name. The words were unmistakable—vivid, intimate, dripping with a desire that mirrored the tension between you two. You recognized the inspiration behind them immediately.

He’s writing his own fanfiction. And it’s about you.

Suddenly, you’re not so much thinking about the bet Soonbin warned you about.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

♡ extra #3 : fire vs feline ♡

in which : your boyfriend battles for your affection with an unknown rival

a/n : and its back after decades !!! tysm to @sorrowfulrosebud for this suggestion and im sooo sorry it took me so long to get to this next part :(( still, i like this a lot and i hope yall did too ! aaaghhh dragon katsu i missed you tehehe MUAH MAUH

fluff n cats !!, cooking but nothing bad but like you slap katsukis ass once lolololol

it's 8:45 pm, and you're still not back from work.

you usually tell katsuki when you're running late before hand, or you call him from work to warn him. it makes him grumpy, sure. but he's at least glad you let him know.

but tonight you didn't and it makes him even grumpier.

at this point he's thinking about heading out and finding you himself. he picks you up from work sometimes, but you don't like it because apparently he 'mean mugs your coworkers.' your words not his. he looks out of the window, the rain is beating down against them. it's pouring outside, he frowns.

maybe, you're running a little late at work and you just forgot to warn him. sure, it happens. and you are an idiot (but you're his idiot). but..there's a small, little doubt buzzing around in his head like a fly. and it annoys him.

what if something happened to you ? just the thought makes his whole body buzz in anger.

fuck it. he practically jumps up from the couch and prepares to put his shoes on when he hears knocking on the door. katsuki's ears perk up and he's zooming to the door, faintly catching your scent. he hears the jingling of what he knows are your keys but he's already faster than you. you're absolutely soaked, holding onto a grocery bag and cradling your work blazer to your chest. katsuki's just about to scold you, when he sees something..furry in your blazer ?

you don't respond when he asks you anything and push past him. he stays frozen by your front entrance while you run around your apartment until you stay in your room. and he swears he could hear you talking. he's jumps slightly when he hears you call for him.

immediately he barges into your bedroom, and despite being soaked down to the bone your all smiles. beckoning him over to you, his eyebrows furrow.

"what the fuck are-"

"shh, shh!!" you hurriedly press your finger over your lips, beckoning him over to the blanket in front of you. he holds back what he wants to say and the closer he gets the more the furry little mass comes into view.

"look at him, isn't he cute ?!" you whisper yell, cooing softly when the little animal meows at you.

a cat.

he's not completely unfamiliar with them. he sees them sometimes while he's out on runs or doing the groceries. you always squeal loudly whenever you see them and rush to pet them. the one's he sees are usually fatter, bigger than this scrawny little thing.

"where'd you find this thing ?" he squats next to you, scowling as the little furry beast mewls, eyes squinted closed. you send him a look.

"i found him..in an alley all alone in the rain, i couldn't just leave him there !" you pout at him, katsuki squints at you despite his heart kicking in his chest at your cute expression "doesn't he look cute ?"

he looks back towards the little creature. it's nuzzling it's head against your hand you've got pressed to support its blanket dome. "it's small." he settles. you roll your eyes "he's a baby." you shoot back.

"is the shit you dumped in the living room for him ?" you look back at him like you'd been caught, eyes immediately darting back to the kitten. "it's just until i can find him a new home, he's in rough shape.." your eyes droop. one thing katsuki will never admit is that he truly admires your empathy, you seem so saddened about the frankly poor state of the little creature. you'll get sick if you stay in your wet clothes any longer yet all you focus on is chatting with the little kitten, baby talking back at it.

it does look pitiful, maybe because of it's fur sticking up every way because you had just dried it off, or maybe its still shivering little form curling up in the blankets. katsuki doesn't care about anything or anyone in the human realm except for you, but his heart squeezes just a bit at the tiny sounds the kitten releases. he doesn't think he could get used to how small every creature is here. even what you qualify as a big dog here doesn't even come close to what he'd classify as one.

tentatively, he reaches one big finger towards the kitten. it looks like it could fit in his whole palm. " fuck, it really is small."

his words earn him a giggle, your eyes soften as you see them both interacting "what, you finally realised ?" he scoffs, his eyes not leaving the cat as it curls its head towards his finger, obviously attracted to his warmth. you can't blame him. "aw, he likes you !" you squeal. katsuki only huffs, his nose scrunches up at your words. " it wouldn't survive a day back where i'm from, too small and weak."

"don't be mean," you reach to pinch his cheek, and he ducks away from you with a growl. he slowly pulls his finger away from the cat to knock his forehead against yours, you grumble and he smirks, of course. ever the little shit.

"go shower, yer fuckin' soaked. gonna catch a cold." he grabs you by your shoulders to walk you out of the room despite your protests of wanting to watch over the kitten. "i got it." is all he says, pushing you out the door. you sigh, shaking your head, a smile grows on your face. you forgot to get a change of clothes, but you know katsuki will get some for you later, and you hurriedly walk over to the shower. as much as you want to spend time with a cute kitty and your dragon man you're more than happy to get out of these cold clothes.

when you're done showering, you've changed into the fresh clothes that katsuki had indeed dropped in while you were showering (not before scolding your dumbass for forgetting, of course). you're met with the sweetest sight. your boyfriend holding the little bundle of blankets in his arms while he's watching tv. you try your best to squeal quietly so as not the startle the kitten. you snatch your phone from your bedroom to take a picture, your boyfriend growls lowly at you, it seems like he doesn't want to startle the kitten either. you decide to use this to your advantage.

"shh, shh don't scare him !" you smirk. the shifter glowers at you.

"cut that shit out." he grits out.

"what happened while i was gone, katsu ?" you coo. you don't know if it's the camera on him, the petname or your tone of voice that has pink blend onto his ears, but it makes the sight that much cuter. you can't help but giggle.

"fuckin' thing didn't want me to leave, kept whining." he explains.

"i mean, you are warm." you shrug, he is not happy with your answer. clearly. because he growls again. "what am i, a damn heater ?!" you both hold your breaths when the tiny ball of fur yawns, but doesn't wake up and readjusts in katsuki's lap. you let out a sigh of relief while the blonde huffs, relaxing just a bit, he scoffs to himself.

"you gonna keep standing there or are you gonna bring your ass over here ?"

"i'm thinkin' about just staying here, i'm really liking this view." you giggle at his eye roll, tucking your phone into the pocket of your sweatpants and slowly making your way onto the couch. you manage to cuddle up next to katsuki without disrupting the cat and sigh happily when he bumps his nose into your hair. a deep rumble comes from his chest that resembles a cat's purr and it makes you giggle. you decide not to comment on it lest katsuki feels insulted for being compared to something so small.

the groceries you'd made last minute for the cat have been tucked away on the kitchen counter and you smile, kissing your dragon man's chin. who chuffs happily despite not looking away from the tv. you close your eyes, happy that your boyfriend was okay with the kitten staying for a while.

you've fallen asleep after a while, he knew it was coming, but katsuki knows it'll be a bit annoying to have to tuck you into bed while also not waking up the tiny little creature. he sighs, running his nose to your eyebrows. you and your stupid empathy..

but in the time you took to shower. the clingy little feline managed to make katsuki's heart squeeze just a bit, it shouldn't flatter itself though. he can it admit that like this, fully dry, quiet and asleep. it doesn't look all bad. dare he say kind of cute.

the worry from earlier finally catches up to him and he knows he should just bring you all to bed, but he can't be bothered to wake you up right now. besides, he might wake both you and the cat up. he'll only close his eyes for a bit and wake up a bit later.

before he falls asleep, katsuki can admit that that's major bullshit.

nevermind. forget anything positive he said before. katsuki hates this mangy fucking cat.

it's only been two days. two. days. and the pest (or tofu, miso, mochi and every other food related name your dumbass uses as a place holder name) thinks it's just the king of the house now. the bastard thinks he's earned the right to prance around like he owns the place just because his face isn't unbearable to look at, fuckin' bastard.

he's hyper, he whines when you don't let him sleep in the bed with you, so katsuki's earned himself a scratch on his cheek from the mangy demon deciding to attack his face first thing in the morning. he's bossy and greedy, and so loud. and those god forsaken "zoomies" drive him up a wall. especially when he wants katsuki's food knowing damn well he's got a bowl of perfectly good cat suited food waiting for him. you claim he's just a chattier cat and it's so annoying. the cat loves to act like it wasn't sent from hell just to torture katsuki when you're around. curling up to you and meowing at you, and you meow right back like you're having a riveting conversation ( if he didn't hate the damn thing so much he'd think it was cute..and he still kinda does unfortunately..)

what probably pisses him off the most though is that you spoil the little furball to the ends of the earth.

and yeah, sure, he's a baby. he needs to be nurtured and taken care of. whatever, big. fucking. deal. katsuki's been a baby before and he's sure he wasn't this insufferable..maybe a bit--but not that much !

you squeal oh so loud when the vile creature does literally anything, swooning when he purrs as you scratch behind his ears. when he does a big stretch, when he yawns, when he eats, when he breathes. you're on him, and it pisses him the fuck off.

and, no. it's not because you spend way more time with the cat you've known for two days than your own mate. it's definitely not because you cuddle and fall asleep with the cat, it's not even because you coo at tofu/miso/mochi/the fucking demon like he's just the most precious thing the world. not because you giggle and smile at him, and he's not mad because you're only supposed to with him. at all.

...okay so maybe he was a little mad about it, so what ?! dragons are naturally possessive creatures. and no matter what it is, katsuki doesn't like it when it takes your attention from him for too long. you wouldn't get it, fuck you.

so here he is, shivering to death while you're cuddled up with your cat from hell. he hears the stray purr loudly, like he's taunting him. he scowls.

katsuki's actively sitting as far away from you on the couch as possible. which you find weird because you'd brought out you're cuddle blanket, although with katsuki around every blanket is the cuddle blanket.

his arms are crossed and he scowls at the movie he'd picked out. immediately you could tell something was wrong, your katsuki senses tingle. you stop playing around with tofu as you call out for him. katsuki offers you a side glance and a side glare at the kitty and a grunt in response.

you'd sensed this animosity between him and miso since the day he'd woken up with a loud scream because the stray had decided to pounce on him. a pretty rude awakening you can admit, and katsuki had been grumpy the entire morning until you'd given him a get better kiss and a little band aid. ever since then you'd catch him and mochi having staring matches and you could feel the tension in the air, like static crackling.

and you could in fact feel the burning against your back of what he probably thought was his subtle glances at you and the kitty when you'd play or so much as interacted with it. but c'mon, who could blame you ?! he was the cutest cat ever !

but you should've known with your boyfriends clingy streak, and his dramatic ways, this wasn't bound to end well.

"come sit next to me, baby," you coo, pouting your lips. you know the offer is tempting to him, but your boyfriend is nothing if not dramatic, he scoffs at you.

"'m not sitting nowhere near that fucking demon." he sasses, you snort. "mochi is harmless, you just need to learn to get along."

he turns to you, insulted "i was fine with the little beast until he decided to wage war on me !"

"i'm sure he didn't mean to scratch you, he was just excited !"

"he fucking drew blood ?! he wants me dead !" he scoffs, before adding a challenging "good luck with that." scoffing as the kitty stays curled up next to you. you can't help but snort.

"he's a baby, suki."

"so ? you're just saying that 'cus he's attached to your hip. the damn yowler's even tryin' ta steal my mate from me." you laugh then, startling tofu and making katsuki roll his eyes. you slowly unwrap yourself from the blanket, wrapping it around tofu who blinks at you. you crawl over to your boyfriend, placing your head in his lap. you smile up at him as he scowls down at you, huffing hard.

you put your palms on his warm cheeks, his eyebrows furrow harder as you coo at him "my dragon man's feeling a little left out isn't he ?feeling a little touch starved ?" you tease, rubbing at his cheeks.

katsuki growls at you, his eyes droop just a bit at your touch. "you're fuckin' crazy. i hate you." you laugh hard, hands dropping from his face. he leans down to huff in your face, chest rumbling as you blow in his face as payback. he presses his palm to your face complaining that 'your breath stinks', having trouble hiding his smirk.

you lean up just enough to press your nose to his like he always does for you, his eyes widen "dummy.." he mutters, pink taking over his ears. he presses his nose to yours affectionately and kisses your lips roughly.

" i'm your mate, yeah ? you don't have to worry about anything. miso just needs to be taken care of." you reassure. katsuki squints at you, looking away again with a pout. "i know that. and i wasn't worried."

"yeah ?"

"yeah." he huffs, knocking his forehead to yours "stop calling him that name, it's stupid."

you scoff, revolted "it's adorable !"

"it's stupid." he reiterates "you can't even settle on one."

" shush," you take the opportunity to scratch at the spot behind his horn. watching as he melts, chuffing happily into your neck. you smile to yourself, not worried your ass.

you feel his strong arms wrap around you as best he can in your position, trying to keep you away from a certain kitty. unfortunately, he seems to forget how little the feline is as it manages to squeeze itself right in his arms. katsuki's head flies up and you jump.

"who the fuck do you think you are, hah ?! think you can just get comfy on me after drawing first blood ?!" miso is unbothered, lifting his head up to yawn at your boyfriend causing you to snort. your dragon man doesn't find it the least bit funny though "oooh, you're just soo comfy, huh ?" he turns to you "see ? i swear he wants to fuckin' fight me."

you laugh again, placing your hand against his back and rubbing slowly, reaching for the cat with your other hand but katsuki intercepts it, showing it off to him and taunting him about how you were his mate like a child. you shake your head affectionately, having two boys fight over your affection like this was not something you expected to happen in your lifetime.

you wake up the next morning a little later than usual, free of work, and your welcomed with a lovely surprise. your dragon boyfriend cooking you breakfast, covered only by his kiss the cook apron and with a little fur ball perched on his shoulder. which could be a little dangerous since they're both perched right above the stove, but they both look pretty comfy.

"you gotta wait thirty more seconds before you flip the pancakes. if you flip 'em even a second before or after they'll be fucked, got it ?" the kitten meows in response and katsuki grunts, turning back to his food. you pad over to the kitchen, phone in hand, katsuki glares at the sound of a camera shutter, not being able to turn fully with miso on his shoulder. "what the fuck are you doing ?"

"wondering when you guys got so chummy !" you giggle, getting closer knowing he can't do anything to shoo you away. katsuki grumbles but focuses back on his food to flip his waffles. "what happened ?"

"we talked it out, bastard isn't as bad as i thought, i guess."

you tuck your phone away to press a kiss to his cheek and say hi to miso. you don't know what he means by talked it out, but you're glad they ended up settling their..differences.

"fenrir said he doesn't like the names you picked out for him either." your boyfriend adds after a pause, he smirks when you freeze.

you're flabbergasted when you register his words, "he didn't tell you that, you liar ! and who the hell is fenrir ?!" katsuki shrugs at the shoulder the cat is perched on, and miso/mochi/ tofu/ fenrir ?? meows like you'd called him for attendance. he does seem to like it, katsuki smirks even wider.

"you named him fenrir ?!"

"he likes it." is all katsuki offers you, obviously proud. you shake your head and you can't help but laugh "you're unbelievable." you giggle, and katsuki rolls his eyes with a smirk. telling you to go brush your teeth because you're not getting anything he made with nasty breath. you smack his ass as revenge and run off. before he can get his hands on you, not that he could. you hear him complaining to fenrir about how annoying you are. you hear a meow and a chuckle.

your new cat and your dragon boyfriend are talking shit about you, but at least they're getting along.

THEHEHEHE THE RETURN !!!! iLOOVEED this i rlly hope yall enjoyed, should we keep fenrir as a pet throughout the series ? supposedly reader n katsu r gonna find a new place for him, but he's kinda growing on me ! lmk !!

taglist *if your name is pink i unfortunately couldn’t tag you :(( @doofusarena @queenpiranhadon @rosemarygalaxy @slashersl0t @andysdrafts @berryvioo @erenstitanweave @chuugarettes @stardyedkatsuki @atinytiredpanromantic @zaiban2989 @annepamgkrth @mxpl3s-castle

[lowkeyerror]

The Family Business Ch.13

WandaNat x Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Ch. Notes: short

Summary: Fisk gains a new unexpected ally that deeply affects a member of the family.

An: Short filler Ch. but with a warning. Sorry for the mistakes, just wanted to get something out for yall. Also fear not, we will be getting the very essential "date" chapter soon, but first some world building yknow.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

With the way life had been treating you lately, the ups and downs, you felt as though this should be harder. You felt like there was a funk or depression that should be settling into your mind, but there wasn’t. There should’ve been anxiety building up, but all you felt was calm.

After the beating you suffered you thought you’d be more on edge. However as your body healed itself, you found yourself at ease. There was something smug about your survival. Perhaps it had to do with the blossoming relationship that you had been reveling in.

Throughout the years you had prided yourself on changing and morphing into someone with a tough exterior and an even stronger interior. While you never regretted becoming that way, you admit that in it you lost some of your personality.

You were so much more than a victim of the abuse you had suffered at the hands of your mother. As you grew, after separating yourself from her you were set on not ever being a victim again that you hid everything that you thought made you vulnerable.

Your likes and leisurely activities all of sudden seemed like weak points. The only one who was able to make you let your guard down was Pietro.

Now however, having Wanda and Natasha by your side, you find yourself on a path of rediscovery. You feel like you’re coming into yourself again. The women are the perfect models of work life balance and you think it’s everything you’ve been missing.

The can go into the office work diligently and complete their jobs, but also clock out and relax. The enjoy themselves and they enjoy you.

Wanda personally loves seeing you open up a bit more, after seeing how much of yourself you pushed down. Natasha finds herself collecting bits and pieces of information about you that she plans to commit to memory.

In the very back of your mind you think about how quiet the streets have been. You expected Fisk to brag about your beating just like he did with Dragos. However there had been no commotion, and the intel that you were getting didn’t indicate any attacks soon.

It was eerie and you would've dwelled on it in the past, but Natasha and Wanda reassured you that everything was under control. Natasha constantly let you go over her team strategies to show you she was utilizing the soldiers given to her.

They tried to keep you out of the office for your recovery, but you just found yourself working from home until your ankle was healed. As soon as you were able, you stepped back into the office.

While you had made nearly a full recovery, you could not say the same for Dragos. It pained you hear that doctors have reported a stagnation in his progress. Flora relied that certain doctors were starting to suggest pulling the plug as a feasible option. The entire family was adamant to oppose any talk of such actions.

“Baby?”

Your eyes leave your compute to see Wanda and Natasha entering your office.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Natasha speaks, “We were wondering if you wanted to grab dinner tonight?”

You nod, “For sure.”

Wanda clarifies a bit, “Like a date, Y/n.”

Your eyes widen a bit, but you nod excitedly at the prospect, “Even better, of course.

“We’ll go home, get ready and go from there?” Nat suggests.

“Can’t wait,” a small smile plays on your lips.

Everything about this has felt casual and you love that, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t want to have the typical romantic experiences. This would amongst the first few dates you three had gone on.

Pietro storms into the office breaking up the relaxed atmosphere they had been sitting in. The man looks like he is complete emotional distress.

“I need to talk to Y/n.”

His sister wants to question him, but with one shake of your head she pulls her wife out of the office.

“What’s wrong, Piet?”

He doesn’t hold it together much longer as he signals he needs a hug. You stand up quickly and wrap your arms around him. You feel his tears hit his shoulder and admittedly, your worry multiplies.

“Monica,” he says in his broken tone.

You rub his back soothingly, “What about her?”

He pulls away, “ Two months we lasted, Y/n. I had asked her to be official she said yes, but she’s ended things with me.”

“Oh Piet.”

He shakes his head, “It’s worse than that. She indebted to Fisk, Y/n. She owes him money and favors, she never told me because he’s never come to collect. But now, he’s cashing in.”

You frown deeply, “So she’s protecting you.”

“I need to be protecting her,” he grits his teeth.

You feel for your friend, you don’t believe you have the right words to bring him comfort, “ But you don’t know how.”

Pietro has a new fire in his eyes, “With a bullet in his skull. He’s tried to take everything from me. Papa, you, and now the love of my life.”

You knew the man could be hotheaded at times, and for once you knew he had every right to be. Yet, you couldn’t justify him doing something irrational.

“When the time comes, he will be dealt with,” you say.

Pietro shakes his head, “Nothings happened since your attack, everything is settling. This war will drag on and on if we let it."

“We can’t tear apart the city for no reason, Piet. It’s a bad look from us,” you try to reason with him.

“I know that, but it’s not what I want to hear.”

He slumps down on your office couch with his head in his hands. You sit next to him and rub his shoulder.

“How about we do something tonight, like old times? Something so that we can feel normal for once,” you suggest.

“I can’t even text her because what if she becomes a pawn in this scheme,” he sighs.

“ We’re hanging out tonight. To take your mind off of this, even if it’s only for a moment,” you speak sincerely to him.

He nods slowly in agreement, “Fine, but only because I don’t want to be alone and maybe I’ve missed you. Wanda too, I miss when timed were simpler.”

You get a little excited, “Tonight, me, you, Wanda, Natasha we can do something together. It’ll be reminiscent of old times.”

Pietro agrees and you let him stay in the office as you work. You texted Wanda and Natasha filling them on the details. They were understanding about having to cancel your plans. Natasha also took note of Monica as one of Fisk’s new allies.

The three of you brainstorm to come up with some plans to help your friend for the time being. The night still had promise and none of you wanted to waste it.

Unfortunately for you all, the air was about become ten times more suffocating and no one would see it coming.

Fisk knew you all would become complacent sooner or later, drop you guards prematurely. He was watching unfold and getting ready to strike again, however this time, he planned for the kill shot.

Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick @sgm616 @bstvst @dorabledewdroop @sapphic-simp4015 @natty-taffy @justarandomreaderxoxo @mmmmokdok @tarathia @bgwlsmahf25 @lezzylover @og-kxsh-420 @vanessashands @untoldreader @sxlfishbrokenheart @marvelgirlx @elle161989

[wonyowonyo]

Burnout (P. Hanni X M!Reader)

Another upd for my cutie pham <3 This one's loosely inspired by a song with the same title as the story. I also used first person POV for this one to amplify the feelings for the story. Anyways this one was really a new experience for me, but I hope yall like this!

You and Hanni strolled hand-in-hand through the bustling city streets, the glowing lights of Seoul casting a warm glow over their faces. As an up-and-coming idol, Hanni's fame was on the rise, but in this moment, it felt like it was just the two of you, lost in your own little world.

Hanni's delicate features were radiant, her brown eyes sparkling with joy as she laughed at one of your silly jokes. The sound sent a shiver down your spine - God, you loved that laugh. It was music to your ears, a siren's call that you could never resist.

You both ducked into a cozy café, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and sweet pastries enveloping both of your noses. Hanni's eyes lit up as she surveyed the menu, eagerly describing her favorite drinks and desserts. You couldn't help but be captivated by her enthusiasm, her passion infectious.

As you both sipped your drinks and shared a decadent slice of cake, Hanni's phone suddenly buzzed with a call. Her manager's name flashed on the screen, and you could see the disappointment in her eyes as she reluctantly answered.

The conversation was brief, but you could tell by the way Hanni's shoulders slumped that it was not good news. "I'm so sorry, Y/N," she said, her voice laced with regret. "I have to go. There's an emergency at the agency, and they need me back right away."

You nodded, understanding the demands of her career, even if it meant sacrificing your precious time together. You pulled her into a tight embrace, savoring the warmth of her body and the familiar scent of her perfume. "It's okay, love. I know how important your work is. Go, and be amazing."

Hanni squeezed your back, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I love you, You. I promise I'll make it up to you, okay?"

With a final, lingering kiss, Hanni hurried out the door, leaving you alone in the cozy café, the bittersweet taste of their interrupted date still lingering on your lips.

You sit alone in the café, the once-vibrant atmosphere now feeling a bit hollow without Hanni's presence. You take a sip of your now lukewarm coffee, the bitter liquid doing little to soothe the ache in your chest.

As you stare out the window, watching the bustling city go by, memories of your relationship flood your mind. The way Hanni's face would light up when you both plan a spontaneous date night, the inside jokes you guys shared that would have you both in stitches, the tender moments where you simply hold each other close, reveling in the comfort of each other's embrace.

But lately, those moments had become fewer and farther between. Hanni's schedule had become increasingly demanding as her fame and success grew. You understood, of course – you knew what you were signing up for when you fell for the charming idol. Yet, it didn't make it any easier to accept the reality of your situation.

You sighed heavily, running a hand through your hair in frustration. You want nothing more than to be by Hanni's side, to support her and be there for her, but the distance and the constant interruptions are starting to wear on you. You love her with every fiber of your being, but the uncertainty of your future together is a heavy weight on your heart.

As you sit there, lost in your thoughts, the bustling noise of the café fades away, and all you can hear is the echoes of Hanni's laughter, the soft whispers of "I love you," and the bittersweet ache of a love that feels further and further out of reach.

The months pass, and you can't help but feel the growing distance between you and Hanni. What was once a vibrant, passionate love has slowly started to fade, like a once-vibrant painting slowly weathering away under the relentless march of time.

Hanni's schedule has become increasingly demanding, with back-to-back schedules, endless promotional events, and extended periods away from home. And with each passing day, You feel the ache in your heart grow stronger, the yearning for her touch, her laughter, her presence becoming a constant, nagging ache.

One evening, as you both sit across from each other in your apartment, the silence is deafening. Hanni's eyes are glued to her phone, fingers rapidly typing away as she coordinates her schedule. You watch her, your heart sinking with each passing moment.

"Hanni," you say softly, reaching out to gently touch her hand. "Can we talk?"

Hanni's gaze flicks up to meet yours, her expression guarded. "About what?" she asks, her tone clipped.

You swallow hard, the lump in your throat nearly choking you. "About us. About how... how things have been between us lately."

Hanni's eyes narrow slightly, and she pulls her hand away, setting her phone down on the table. "I don't know what you mean. Everything's fine."

"No, Hanni, it's not," You press, your voice rising with a desperate edge. "We used to be so close, so in sync. But lately, it feels like you're always distracted, always somewhere else. I feel like I'm losing you."

Hanni's jaw clenches, and she averts her gaze, unwilling to meet your pleading eyes. "I'm sorry, Y/N, but you knew what you were getting into when we started this. My career is important to me, and it's only going to get busier. If you can't handle that, then..."

She trails off, the unspoken words hanging heavily in the air between them. You feel your heart shatter, the realization dawning that Hanni may be willing to choose her career over their relationship.

"Hanni, please," he begs, reaching out to her once more. "I love you. I want to be there for you, to support you. But I need you to be here for me too. I need you to make time for us, for our relationship."

Hanni's eyes glisten with unshed tears, and for a moment, You see the vulnerable, conflicted woman he fell in love with. But then, her expression hardens, and she shakes her head.

"I can't make any promises, Y/N. My work has to come first. If you can't accept that, then maybe... maybe we're not meant to be."

With those words, she gathers her things and leaves, the sound of the door slamming shut echoing in the deafening silence.

You sit there, alone in the apartment, your heart shattered into a million pieces. The love he had cherished for so long suddenly feels like a distant memory, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand.

The days that follow are a painful blur for you. You find yourself constantly reaching for your phone, yearning to hear Hanni's voice, to feel her comforting presence by your side. But the calls and texts go unanswered, leaving you feeling more alone and adrift than ever before.

You tried to go about your daily life, throwing yourself into your work in a desperate attempt to distract yourself from the gaping hole in your heart. But everywhere you look, you’re reminded of Hanni – the coffee shop you used to go to frequently, the park where you would take long strolls together, the cozy nook in your apartment where you guys would curl up and watch movies together.

The memories torment him, replaying in an endless loop in your mind. He can still vividly recall the way Hanni's eyes would light up when she talked about her dreams, the soft, tender kisses they would share, the way she would trace the contours of your face with such adoration.

But now, those precious moments feel like they happened in another lifetime. The Hanni you knew and loved seems like a distant, fading memory, replaced by a stranger who is consumed by the demands of her career.

You find yourself wondering when things started to shift, when the spark that once burned so brightly between them began to flicker and fade. Was it the constant schedule changes and last-minute cancellations? The long, lonely nights spent apart? Or was it something deeper, a fundamental shift in their priorities and desires?

You ache to reach out to Hanni, to plead with her to reconsider, to fight for the love they once shared. But the words suddenly get stuck in your throat, and you find yourself paralyzed by the fear of losing her forever.

The silence between the two of you grows deafening, each passing day a fresh reminder of the chasm that now separates you both. You feel adrift, your heart yearning for the woman you love, even as you know that she may be slipping further and further away.

The weeks turn into months, and the distance between you and Hanni only seems to grow. What was once a vibrant, passionate romance now feels like a distant memory, fading like a once-vibrant painting under the relentless march of time.

You find yourself constantly on edge, your heart racing every time your phone lights up, only to be disappointed when it's not Hanni's name on the screen. You long to hear her voice, to feel the warmth of her embrace, but the calls and texts go unanswered, leaving you feeling more alone and adrift than ever before.

The ache in your chest is a constant companion, a dull, throbbing pain that never seems to go away. You tried to distract yourself, throwing yourself into your work and social activities, but nothing can truly fill the void that Hanni has left in your life.

When you do manage to see each other, the tension is palpable. The easy banter and playful flirtation that once defined their relationship has been replaced by stilted conversation and an uneasy silence. You can see the strain and exhaustion in Hanni's eyes, the weight of her demanding schedule taking a visible toll on her.

You wanted to reach out, to pull her into your arms and hold her close, to reassure her that you’re here for her, no matter what. But you find yourself frozen, unable to bridge the growing chasm between you two.

As the months pass, You start to wonder if this is it – if the love the two of you once shared is truly slipping through your fingers, forever lost to the relentless demands of Hanni's career. The thought cuts you to the core, leaving you feeling adrift and utterly bereft.

————————————————————

The memory of how you and Hanni's relationship first blossomed feels like a lifetime ago, a bittersweet echo of the love and passion that once burned so brightly between them.

It had started innocently enough - You had caught one of Newjeans' live performances, captivated by the raw energy and undeniable talent of the young group. But it was Hanni, with her radiant smile and effortless stage presence, who had truly captured your heart.

After the show, You had impulsively waited by the stage door, hoping for a chance encounter. To your surprise and delight, Hanni had emerged, surrounded by a gaggle of eager fans. But as your eyes met, You swore you felt a spark of connection, a brief moment of recognition that set your heart racing.

Summoning your courage, you approached her, introducing yourself and complimenting her performance. Hanni, ever the gracious idol, had smiled warmly and engaged you in friendly conversation, seemingly unaware of the effect she was having on you.

Over the next few weeks, you found yourself drawn back to the venue, eagerly anticipating each of Newjeans' shows. And each time, you would catch Hanni's eye, the two of you sharing a brief, tantalizing moment of connection that set your pulse racing.

It was during one of those chance encounters that Hanni had boldly approached you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "You know, I've noticed you here a lot," she had said, a coy smile playing on her lips. "Is there a particular reason you keep coming to our shows?"

You had felt your cheeks flush, suddenly self-conscious. "I... I just really admire your work," you stammered. "And, well, I've been hoping to get the chance to, um, talk to you."

Hanni had laughed, the sound like music to your ears. "In that case, how about we grab a coffee sometime? I'd love to get to know you better."

From that moment on, You and Hanni were inseparable, the burgeoning romance blossoming like a delicate flower in the spring. They would steal away to quiet corners, losing themselves in endless conversations, their laughter and stolen glances drawing curious stares from onlookers.

It was a whirlwind courtship, marked by stolen moments and passionate kisses, as You and Hanni navigated the challenges of their unlikely pairing. But through it all, their love for each other only seemed to grow stronger, a bond that transcended the boundaries of their different worlds.

The blissful days with Hanni feel like a distant dream, a bittersweet echo of a love that once burned so passionately between them.

You can still vividly recall the way Hanni's eyes would light up whenever they were together, the way her infectious laughter would send shivers down your spine. Your stolen moments were electric, filled with a palpable chemistry that made the rest of the world fade away.

In those early days, the challenges of Hanni's burgeoning idol career seemed surmountable, a hurdle they could overcome together through sheer force of will and unwavering devotion. You were willing to do whatever it took to support Hanni, to be her rock and her solace amidst the whirlwind of her demanding schedule.

And Hanni, in turn, had made you feel like the most important person in her world. She would carve out precious pockets of time just for you, taking you away to cozy cafes or quiet parks, where you both could lose yourselves in each other's embrace, unburdened by the constraints of her celebrity status.

Those carefree, blissful moments were the foundation upon which your love was built, a testament to the depth of your connection and the unwavering commitment you guys shared. You had been certain that this bond was unbreakable, that no challenge could ever truly tear the both of you apart.

But as the demands of Hanni's career escalated, the cracks in their relationship began to show. The once-spontaneous dates and stolen embraces became fewer and farther between, replaced by hurried phone calls and hastily rescheduled plans.

You tried your best to be understanding, to be the supportive, patient partner that Hanni needed. You knew the sacrifices she was making, the dreams she was chasing, and he was determined to be there for her, no matter what.

But as the distance between you two grew, You couldn't help but feel the ache in your heart deepen. The intimacy they had once shared felt like a distant memory, replaced by a growing sense of disconnect and uncertainty.

And now, as you sit alone in the apartment you once spent time with, the echoes of your laughters and the warmth of Hanni’s embrace feel like a cruel taunt, a painful reminder of what you may have lost forever.

You know, deep down, that you need to make a decision – to either fight for Hanni and your relationship, or to let her go, to set her free to pursue her dreams, even if it means sacrificing your own happiness.

But the fear of losing her, of having to face a future without her by your side, is a weight that threatens to crush you. You find yourself caught in a painful limbo, torn between your love for Hanni and the realization that you may have to let her go.

The uncertainty of your future together haunts you, a constant, nagging presence that leaves you feeling more lost and alone than you’ve ever felt before. All you can do is hold on, to cherish the fleeting moments you guys do have together, and to pray that somehow, someway, you two can find your way back to each other, before it's too late

Those precious memories now feel like bittersweet reminders of a time long past, a testament to the love that once burned so brightly between them. And as You finds himself adrift in the present, he can't help but wonder if that spark can ever be rekindled, or if the distance and demands of Hanni's career have doomed their relationship to a tragic end.

————————————————————

The air is thick with tension as Hanni sits across from you, her eyes downcast and her lips pressed into a thin line. She's been dreading this moment, the inevitable conversation they've been avoiding for weeks, but she knows it has to be done.

"Y/N, I..." Hanni starts, her voice wavering slightly. "I don't know how to say this, but... I think we need to end our relationship."

The words hit you like a physical blow, knocking the breath right out of your lungs. You stare at Hanni, your eyes wide with disbelief and hurt. "What? Hanni, no, please... I thought we were..."

Hanni raises a hand, silencing you with a pained expression. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I never wanted it to come to this, but... my career is just taking over, and I can't give you the time and attention you deserve."

You reach across the table, your fingers trembling as you grasps Hanni's hand. "Please, Hanni, don't do this. I understand how demanding your schedule is, but we can make it work. I'm willing to be patient, to wait for you, to support you no matter what."

Hanni's eyes glisten with unshed tears as she gently extricates her hand from yours. "That's just it, Y/N. I can't ask you to put your life on hold for me. You deserve someone who can give you the time and affection you need, not someone who is constantly preoccupied with work."

The words feel like a knife to your  heart, and you can't stop the tears from spilling down your cheeks. "But I love you, Hanni. I don't care about any of that, I just want to be with you."

Hanni nodded, her expression guarded. "I know," she replied, "But we've both changed. We're no longer like we were before." The moments that had once felt so effortless and joyful now slipped by in awkward, stilted exchanges.”It's not that simple, You. I wish it were, but the truth is, we've really just changed. The way we feel about each other, the way we connect - it's just not the same anymore."

"How can you say that, Hanni?" You whispered, their voice trembling. "How can you just give up on us like this?"

Hanni looked down, her guilt stopping her from answering your question. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you remembered the depths of your affection for her. "Oh, I loved you for so long," you admitted, the words laced with a bittersweet nostalgia.

You shook your head, at a loss for words. "Things weren't like this before," you mused, your thoughts a turbulent whirlwind. 

The silence stretched between the both of you, heavy and oppressive. You ached to reach out, to bridge the gap that had formed, but the fear of rejection once again held you back. Hanni, too, seemed lost, unsure of how to mend the rift that had grown.

"I'm calling you," you whispered, your voice laced with a desperate longing. "I'm wooing you, even if you can't hear it, even if you can't feel it." your words cut through the silence, a last-ditch effort to rekindle the flame that had once burned so brightly between you.

————————————————————

The room around you faded, and suddenly, you were transported to a different time, a memory of a happier, more carefree era.

The sun streamed in through the window, casting a warm glow over the cozy apartment you owned, which Hanni leisurely spends her free time sometimes. You were curled up on the sofa, Hanni’s head resting on her shoulder as she read aloud from a well-worn book, her voice resonating through the room.

Every so often, you would glance up at hier, your eyes sparkling with adoration. The way the light danced across your features, the gentle crinkle of her eyes as she smiled – it all filled your heart with a profound sense of contentment.

Reaching up, you traced the outline of her jaw, marveling at the way her skin felt beneath your fingertips. "I love you, Hanni," you murmured, your voice soft and melodic.

She looked down at you, her gaze overflowing with affection. "And I love you, You," she replied, leaning in to brush her lips against yours in a tender, lingering kiss.

Time seemed to slow to a standstill as you lost yourselves in the moment, the rest of the world fading away until it was just the two of you, basking in the glow of your love.

Afterwards, you snuggled closer, your fingers intertwined as you listened to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. The air was filled with a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the occasional shared laugh or wyourpered confession.

It was in these quiet, intimate moments that you felt truly at home, your heart swelling with a profound sense of belonging. The demands of the outside world seemed to melt away, and all that mattered was the gentle warmth of Hanni's embrace and the unwavering connection you shared.

————————————————————

As the memory began to fade, you could almost feel the ghost of her touch, the lingering warmth of her kiss. A bittersweet ache filled your chest, a yearning for the pure, uncomplicated love you had once known.

And in that moment, you clung to the recollection of those happier times, a glimmer of hope that perhaps, with time and effort, you and Hanni could find your way back to that same level of intimacy and understanding.

The vivid memory of you and Hanni's past happiness only served to amplify the ache in your heart as you were pulled back to the present, the harsh reality of your current situation crashing down upon you.

You gazed at her, your eyes shimmering with  tears, as the weight of all that you had lost threatened to overwhelm you. "Do you remember how it used to be, Hanni?" you asked, your voice trembling with emotion. "When everything was so simple, so effortless between us?"

Hanni's expression softened, a flicker of that bygone tenderness flickering in her eyes. "Of course I do, You," she murmured,  "Those were the happiest days of my life."

Your eyes searched her face, desperate to find the woman you had fallen in love with all those years ago. "What happened to us, Hanni?" 

She let out a shaky sigh, her gaze downcast. "I wish I knew," she admitted, while tears continued to stream down your cheeks. "Maybe it was the constant pressure of our lives, the way we got caught up in the whirlwind and lost sight of what really mattered."

You nodded, understanding dawning in your heart. "But we fought so hard to be together," you murmured, your voice tinged with a bittersweet nostalgia. "Didn't that mean anything?"

"It meant everything, Y/N," she replied, her voice thick with emotion. "Trust me, it really does, and it still does. But... I don't know if that's enough to fix what's been broken between us." 

The finality in her words struck you like a physical blow, and you felt your heart shatter into a million pieces. "So, that's it then?" you asked, your voice trembling with a mixture of disbelief and devastation. "We're really over?"

"I'm so sorry, Y/N," she murmured, her voice hoarse with grief. "I never wanted things to end up like this."

You felt your world crumbling around her. You want to argue, to plead with her to reconsider, but you know it would be futile. Hanni has made up her mind, and nothing you say will change that.

With a heavy heart, You nod, your shoulders slumping in defeat. "I understand," you whisper, the words catching in your throat. "I'll always love you, Hanni. I hope you know that."

Hanni reaches across the table, giving your hand one last, lingering squeeze. "I love you too, Y/N. And I'll always treasure the time we had together. But this is for the best, for both of us."

As Hanni stands to leave, You watch her go, the weight of their shattered dreams hanging heavy in the air. You’re left alone, surrounded by the ghosts of their shared memories, your heart torn to pieces by the realization that the love of your life is slipping through your fingers.

You closed your eyes, your heart torn between the love you still harbored and the growing uncertainty that clouded your future. Staring at the window, your eyes subtly shifted down to the table beside, spotting a polaroid of Hanni that was taken by you. The photograph, that was previously a sentiment of undying love and fondness, was now a keepsake of a love that has faltered. A memory of what could’ve been. "Oh, I will love you for a long time," you murmured, the words a bittersweet promise that hung in the air, a testament to the bond you once shared.

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part twenty-eight

summary: you were back in the capitol, and you would be damned if you didn't try your hardest to make it worthwhile.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.3k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: ahh hiii sorry i went ghost on yall i have been BOOKED and i am so sick and just,,, yeah. life is catching up to me omg

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

Coryo must have been running a few minutes late today, since he hasn't come to get you from your class yet. It was eating into your lunch, which you didn't mind, but still- it was outside of your very structured routine.

Looking down the now almost empty halls, books held against your chest as you wait for your boyfriend.

'Boyfriend'.

The term still felt weird, but you can't help the giddy feeling that manifests into a small smile on your face as butterflies flutter their way into your chest. Still, though, there was no sign of this boyfriend of yours.

"Y/N, hello." Your name pulls you out of the internal mantra, and you look up to its source; a boy who had just walked out of your class after staying back to speak to the professor. He had short hair, styled up the same way Coryo's was day to day now- but it wasn't nearly as blonde. This boy has kind eyes, and it relaxes you from the unexpected interaction.

"Hi there." You smile at the boy, trying to hide how furiously you're searching your head for his name. In classes of forty to fifty students, it was difficult for you to remember especially when you'd only heard their names once and never spoken to essentially all of them. "I'm so sorry," You say to the boy, smile shifting to apologetic. "You'll have to remind me of your name."

"Hilarius." He tells you, and seems to take it in stride.

"Yes! Oh, of course. My apologies." You laugh slightly, a force of habit pushing your hand out to shake his.

He grins as he takes it. "No worries." He adjusts his bag over his shoulder, looking past you and down the halls. "Are... are you waiting for someone?"

"Yes," You nod, and the confusion surrounding why you were just standing there clears from his features. "Coriolanus."

"Ah." Hilarius nods.

"Do you know him?" You ask, having that be your go-to for small talk with your new peers. So far, it's worked well. No one you've had the chance to speak to yet has said no.

"Yeah, yeah. I do." He rubs his jaw as he answers. "We've never been close, but we went to school together. He's in one of my classes now, actually."

"Really?" You smile. "Which one?"

"Poli sci."

"Oh, nice! That's his major. He knows an awful lot about it already- if there's any group projects he's definitely someone you would want working with you." You gush, adjusting your hold on your books.

"Yeah, he's pretty smart." Hilarius agrees.

"Have you decided on your major yet?" You ask. "Political science and English is a wide net to cast."

He shrugs. "Kind of, I don't know. My parents want me to go into business or politics, but I don't think that's what I want."

"The very substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream." You hum. "I think you should pursue what you want. Not what they tell you you should."

He tilts his head at you, a confused smile on his face. "You do really speak that way, don't you?"

"Well, yes." You laugh.

"I'll be honest, I thought you were playing us all for fools to try and get people to like you."

"Oh, no. I am not smart enough for a ruse like that." You giggle, shaking your head.

"Sure you are." He laughs. "I mean clearly, you are."

"I promise that's not it at all." You assure him quickly.

"Yeah, yeah I know that." He gives you a calm smile. "Hey, do you... do you have time before your next class? I have a little bit if you want to grab lunch together."

"I do, but I usually eat with Coryo." You explain, but he was fifteen minutes late by now. Maybe if you just went to the courtyard he would meet you there. "But we always eat in the courtyard between the buildings, so if we go there I'm sure he'll know where to find us."

"Then lead the way." Your new friend nods to you and you smile, heading off down the hall in the direction of the exit.

Coryo rushes out of his lecture hall as soon as they're done. How the professor had so little care for holding them back an extra twenty minutes just to "wrap up" on a lecture concept was unbelievable to him. Other people had other classes, and he had to get to you.

When he makes it to your building and your class, he assumes your professor must have done the same thing when he doesn't see you in the hall. Peeking into the classroom, he doesn't have the time to be relieved since another class has already started and you are not sitting there listening. He takes a step back and looks around, thoroughly confused.

Where did she go?

He doesn't know if you're comfortable enough here to be wandering off on your own, but you must be. Or you were with someone. Likely Sejanus, if you were to go off with anyone, but as far as Coryo knew Sejanus was in a class across campus right now. Or he was at least supposed to be.

Immediately he picks up his pace stalking through the halls. After ten minutes, it's clear you were nowhere in the building. He even ran the risk of checking the women's bathrooms after his second lap, scared that maybe you were sick or hurt. But no, you were just gone.

Okay, Coriolanus- think realistically about this. Maybe she just went to wait at our usual lunch spot.

That had to be it, so cursing himself for wasting more time, he heads outside.

Sure enough, he was right. He just wishes he had thought of that sooner- especially when he had neglected the possibility that you had been kidnapped.

"I do love it here, I really do." You smile, trying to be convincing enough to your new friend. "Of course, there is always so much to learn! I'm just really grateful for the opportunity." You say, covering your mouth with your palm as you speak and chew at the same time.

"Come on, Y/N. You can be honest with me." Hilarius says, raising an eyebrow at you. "That sounded extremely scripted. There aren't peacekeepers holding a gun to your head, so... just be honest."

You laugh nervously, looking around. "Okay... I mean, it's fine. I'm comfortable, and I love Coryo and everything don't get me wrong!" You defend quickly, and he just nods. "But... I miss my family and my friends, the music, the food... just, it's really not the same."

"I can imagine." He nods sympathetically.

"Here," You offer him your container of fruit in an effort to soften the subject. "Take some, it's far too much for me."

"Thank you." He agrees politely, taking a raspberry from the mix and popping it into his mouth.

"Please, though, don't tell anyone. I did that whole interview convincing everyone that I was happier than ever here and I just don't want to start any trouble."

"You have my word." Hilarius nods, holding out his pinky to you which you accept with a smile.

"Can I tell you a secret?" He says quietly, and you nod while you grab another strawberry from the glass in your lap.

"You kind of owe me one, now." You tease.

He laughs, but his smile fades quickly. "I feel like... Everyone here loves the games, but I hate them." He admits, taking you by surprise. "I want you to know that I think it's absolutely cruel. I mean, little Wovey... She was just the sweetest and- and I feel so guilty about it all. I wish I got to choose whether or not I wanted to mentor."

You nod, swallowing back the rest of the fruit in your mouth. Suddenly, the sweetness makes you nauseous. "She was." You agree quietly, closing your eyes for a moment and preparing for yet another distressing conversation. "I am sorry I couldn't save her."

"Don't be." He corrects you quickly, a worried expression greeting you when you looked at him again. "That's not what I meant, there was nothing more you could have done. You were a friend to her, she really liked you. She had someone, that's the best either of us could offer."

You nod slightly, chewing instead into your lip and leaving your lunch abandoned. "I-I..." You take a shaky breath. "If I could go back, I would have protected her more. She should have won." You choke your way through the statement, eyes burning from holding back tears. Every time you have one of these conversations it feels like you think someone else should have won. Never you.

"Don't cry, please don't cry." He pleads, placing a hand on your shoulder and you freeze under his touch.

"Don't, please." You say quietly, gently shaking off his hand. You couldn't be touched right now, but how was he to know that? This wasn't his fault.

"I'm sorry." Hilarius says, eyes wide as he watches you. "I didn't think, I shouldn't have said anything but I-"

"What the hell did you say to her?!" Your boyfriend's voice is the next one that rings in your ears, you look up to your right to see him walking over quickly, and Hilarius shuffles to get up.

"Nothing! Nothing, I- I don't know." He defends quickly. "I didn't mean to upset her, honestly."

Then Coryo is crouching in front of you, waving a hand in front of your face. "Hey, you're okay." He says softly, offering you a worried smile. "I've got you, alright?"

You nod a little bit, moving your things away from yourself with trembling hands. "I know."

"Is she okay?" Hilarius asks and you nod again, trying to smile in his direction.

"No. Get out of here, Heavensbee. I'll clean up your mess." Coryo spits at him, and he apologizes again quickly before grabbing his bag and disappearing across the grass.

"Coryo, he didn't-"

"Don't worry about it, love." Coryo smiles at you, suddenly less angry than he was a moment ago. "Just take some deep breaths for me, can you do that?"

"I-I'm fine." You breathe out, chest rising and falling quickly.

"Yeah, you're doing great." Coryo smiles, looking around quickly before adjusting so he's kneeling just in front of you. "Tell me about your readings. Anything good today?" He asks, already knowing the answer.

"I'm glad I went back to class today." You say cheerily as you climb into the car, your boyfriend right on your heels.

"Yes, I am too." He says as you buckle up in the middle seat and he closes the door before getting comfortable next to you. "You're getting so much better."

You nod, looking out through the tinted windows as the car begins to move into traffic. You weren't sure if "better" was the correct term- it didn't sit right with you. You weren't sick, not that you thought, anyway, but maybe he was right. The mention of the other tributes' names would have had you on your knees a matter of months ago; you would have been down for the count for days. Still, though, it felt unsettling to hear it said like that.

If getting better meant not being as hurt by their deaths, maybe it's best if you never recover.

"Hey, are you hungry?" He asks after a moment, watching your eyes glaze over as you stare across him and out the window at all the other young people walking by. "I was thinking we could go try that ice cream place I was telling you about on the train."

You blink away the disassociation, smiling up at him instead. "Yes, that sounds lovely."

"What kind do you think you'll get?" You ask, leaning into Coryo's side as you approach the shop. It was late afternoon, so it was a little busy, but really not all that bad. Crowds bothered you less and less, these days.

"I'm not sure." He replies. "Probably like... vanilla."

"Vanilla?" You giggle. "That's so boring! You said they have every flavour imaginable, and you're settling for vanilla?"

"Okay, well, what do you suggest?" He chuckles, pulling the door open for you as you step through.

"I don't know, I just think you should consider all your options first." You shrug, eyes already landing on the handwritten chalkboard menu that spans the back wall. "Oh, wow..." You say under your breath, eyes going wide.

Coryo watches you with a smile on his face, gently brushing his hand over your back. "Okay, I know what I want." You speak quickly, and he laughs.

"What? There's no way you read all of it just now."

"No, course not." You shake your head, eyes still locked on the board as the sound of people chattering surrounds you. "Coryo, what's white chocolate?" You ask, gently tugging on his sleeve and pointing to where you see it.

"Uh, it's chocolate, but white." He answers, really unsure as well. "Tastes a little different than regular chocolate, but hardly."

"Okay, yes. I want that. With raspberries, it says." You nod in finality.

"Yes, ma'am." He agrees. "Wait right here, love." He says and you nod as he walks over to the counter, and you get to look at the colourful paint on the walls and all the buckets of ice cream behind the glass barrier.

"You're Y/N, right? The victor?" A girl's voice asks you and you turn to instead give them your full attention, nodding with a nervous smile.

"In the flesh." You smile, tilting your head slightly. She must be just a few years younger than you, maybe Len's age.

"Oh, wow! We thought so!" She grins, nodding back to a group of other kids, all of whom are donning the same red uniform you always saw Coryo in earlier in the year. "It's so nice to meet you! Oh my gosh, you're so pretty in person." She gushes. "Not that you weren't on screen, but just- wow, I mean, sorry. I'm just nervous."

"Oh, please, don't be." You smile at her, trying to be reassuring as you press a hand to your chest. "I get nervous meeting people all the time. What's your name, hun?"

"Lexus." She answers with an excited smile and flushed cheeks.

"Lexus! What a beautiful name." You say, partially to fill the silence. "It reminds me of my little brother, his name is Lennox. He's about your age, too."

"That's really cool!" She smiles. "How old are you? I mean, obviously under eighteen, but I'm just wondering because I have an older brother so it would be funny if I was the same age as your brother and my brother was the same age as you. If that makes sense, gosh, sorry- I'm rambling..."

"No, no, you're alright!" You laugh slightly, honestly relieved that she was able to do most of the talking. "And I am eighteen. My birthday was during the games, actually."

Her eyes widen. "Really? That's so lucky! That must have felt so special. What a gift!"

A gift?

You almost choke on the air, patting your hand on your chest as you swallow it down. "Well," You clear your throat, looking over to your boyfriend while he's collecting change from the girl working at the counter. "Only because Coriolanus brought me an amazing gift."

"What did he give you?" She asks, and you still haven't torn your eyes away from him as he walks over, silently pleading for his help.

"What did who give you?" He asks, eyeing her as he walks back up to rejoin you.

"I was just telling Lexus that you gave me an amazing birthday present." You explain.

"Oh, well, no. It was very lame, I'm afraid." He shrugs modestly.

"No, it wasn't!" You laugh, swatting his arm before looking over at her again. "He gave me my favourite book, and his cousin even made me a cake. We had a little celebration just before the games, didn't we?"

"Kind of." He chuckles.

"No, hush. It was perfect, I couldn't have asked for anything better."

"I could think of a few better ways to spend your birthday-"

"You guys are really cute." Lexus cuts in before he can finish, and your cheeks flush pink as your attention is drawn back to her. You don't notice how his face pales.

"Oh, no." You laugh. "He's just a little stubborn sometimes, I think my birthday was perfect, and my opinion on it is the only one that matters, no?" You look up at him, raising an eyebrow.

Coryo collects himself quickly, raising his hands defensively with a smile. "Of course, you're right."

"I know I am." You smile, lifting your nose in pride.

He turns as his name is called, seeing the same girl with your ice cream cones waiting. "Did- did you want a picture or something?" He asks Lexus and she nods, cheeks red.

"If that would be okay, Y/N." She looks to you.

"Oh, of course it is!" You smile, following her back over to the table. Her friends were watching silently the entire time, eyes wide in awe. "Hi..." You say, suddenly nervous as none of them greet you. Lexus must have been the chosen one for being able to speak to you, and she was sent over because the others were too shy.

"Here," Lexus says quickly, moving her bag from the seat at the table and fishing a camera out of it. "Take a seat, I'll sit over here." She slides into her friend's lap across from you, making them all laugh as she holds the camera out to Coryo. "Would you mind?" She asks him.

"Not at all." He says, taking it carefully and turning it over in his hands to find the right button.

"It's that button on the top." She points vaguely and he nods, getting the gist of it quickly. "It comes in handy to be in photography right now, apparently."

You laugh slightly and lean over the table slightly, tilting your head as you smile.

"Ready?" Coryo asks and you nod, hearing mumbles of agreement as you raise your hand from where it rests against the table, holding your pinky under your thumb and raising three fingers.

The flash almost blinds you, but you try not to blink.

"Lovely." Coryo says as he passes the camera back to Lexus and she stands up to take it.

"What does this mean?" Her friend asks, mimicking the salute you did for the photo.

"Oh, we do it back home." You explain. "It means peace and unity, or something along those lines depending on context." Getting up from the seat, you shrug a bit. "Force of habit, I suppose."

"Oh, cool! I didn't know that." She replies and you just nod, eyes following Coryo as he quickly rushes over to grab your ice cream. "Well, I should probably go before that melts, but it was so nice to meet you!"

"Yes, of course, thank you!" Lexus grins. "Maybe we'll see you around!"

"I hope so!" You smile. "Adieu, adieu, adieu! Remember me." You wave, turning to go after your boyfriend.

"What's that from?" He asks when you reach his side, knowing your shift in tone.

"Hamlet." You answer as he holds the ice cream cone out for you and you take it happily.

"Ah." He chuckles, giving the kids a nod as he follows you to the door.

"She said I am so lucky that my birthday was during the games." You say as the door shuts behind you, and you resist the urge to look back in through the window.

"Oh, wow." Coryo laughs, shaking his head. "Yeah, I mean, kids around here don't get it. I don't think they understand what's really happening."

"Clearly not." You focus on licking up the drips that have begun to stray down the side of the cone. "This is really good!" You say excitedly, back to your normal self as you look up to him walking next to you down the sidewalk.

"Yeah?" He smiles.

"Yes." You hum, taking the first real lick off the top. "What did you get?"

"Vanilla." He chuckles, already knowing how you will react.

"Vanilla? Oh, Coryo, you need to expand your horizons a bit." You tsk, teasingly shaking your head at him.

"Hey, it's not my fault it's good."

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl ,  @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs, @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie,  @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore , @strawberryflavouredkisses, @cascadingbliss

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

[maximwtf]

“I’m sorry all the same”

Astarion x Reader

Words: 2600

Google Docs Pages: 4

Warnings: Haarlep’s deal’s effects, yk how it goes so I won’t have to tag it all :”D Some spoilers from act 3, such as quotes and a tiny bit of lore. Guilt, emotional hurt/comfort, after graveyard scene Astarion

Opening: Haarlep held onto his promise. Using your body, your form, to do as he pleased. And you were foolish enough to believe that you could ignore it. But perhaps you should have considered that at the very least someone would notice a change in your behaviour. 

AN// So wtf I write for bg3 now? I guess so :”D Mainly interested in writing for Astarion, Jaheira and Zevlor. But we’ll see how I’ll manage c: OH, GN reader. Yall also I’ll open requests again once I finish the last Legolas one I have :3

“I’m sorry all the same”

After the battle with Raphiel, everyone had been so worn out and in need of a breather that you hadn’t even had the time to truly consider what you’d lost. Or even truly notice the price of what had been lost in exchange for information. Or what that could possibly mean for the future or the people around you. And if any of those thoughts had had the chance to cross your mind, it would have only been the latter. What would the others think? How would it affect them? How would the exchange you’d had with Haarlep affect the people closest to you?

And it usually came to the same conclusion. Even if the bother from it would be minor, you’d chosen to try and avert the others from paying their mind to it. To let the incubus do as he pleased, as long as you could lead the party onward without slowing it down. But even the strongest of leaders had to fall in due time, that was fate set for those who chose what you had. Which in this case referred to the facade you’d built, shattering, cracking at the seams at times. And no amount of laughing it off could shake away certain people when they at last noticed what was wrong. 

And so had fate decided once more. The feelings of phantom touches trailed here and there. And as he had promised, you knew exactly what was being done and when. And there was no way of stopping it. Only the thought of this being what you chose lingered in your mind as the touches travelled that evening. Making you shut down of the usual glow you held when talking to others, hope of no one noticing your state still somewhere at the back of your mind. 

And it did work, for most of that evening. Fluently talking to the town’s folk and the people by your side. At times the feelings even faded, disappeared into thin air. Giving you hope that the incubus had stopped for the day, freeing you from the locked state as it felt. But what use was it, if even within those free moments it spiralled at the back of your mind. Reminding you of its existence and the chance of it all returning. On the edge of hoping that it would come back, so you wouldn’t have to suffer so with the thoughts. Because at times, it felt like those empty moments were the ones most pained. 

You tried to soothe the feeling of a never ending hell by telling yourself that this was momentary. The form was new and the creature knew exactly what it was doing. But as time passed, he’d surely get tired of the repeating game and move on to something else. And even if this truly was an infinite infernal road, you had chosen to walk it for a reason. You’d avoided a battle and gotten important information out of the man, which in truth cost a great deal. But if it meant that no one got physically hurt, it did seem like the right thing in the end. 

Inevitably, the time passed as it always had. The sun set, which led you along with the rest back to Elfsong. And for once, there was time in the late evening to sit around and talk. There was nowhere to go, no tasks to run and nothing so important that it couldn’t be left to be dealt by tomorrow. The morning was always smarter than the night, anyway. 

But there was something that wouldn’t allow itself to be left alone, to linger until the sun rose once more. The now more intense phantom touches, the caresses that haunted you. Had ruined most of the day and seemed to plan on continuing to do so. 

As it made itself more known, demanding your every bit of attention, it slowly reached your limit. The top of which when it hit, would at last shatter that rather fragile facade. The facade that at times felt like it was being held together by whatever cheap adhesive children held the glitter on the cards they brought to their parents. Weak. 

The fireplace flickered calmly as the few people in the middle of the room sat on the couches and chatted. You tried your best to throw in a few comments but from your perspective they all sounded the same, forced. It was no use, after being driven to a corner as you’d been. So in order to save face, you stood up and informed the others that you’d be heading to bed to catch up on those countless hours of disregarded sleep. And most seemed to have believed that, wishing you a good night as you slowly walked to the comfort of your bed. 

Though, there was one who’d joined in on the others, wishing you a good night. But they didn’t hesitate to stand up and follow along after you’d left. And they didn’t exactly make the noise of their steps unknown either. Never sneaking up on you, especially at moments such as these. Which was a hint enough to make the conclusion that he knew what was going on. You’d feared for that earlier. Earlier when a pair of eyes had followed your movements and interactions with the others. 

So of course you knew who it was, who it always was. It gave you enough peace of mind to sit down calmly before turning around to face him, attempting to keep up the nonchalant facade of an expression. He stared down at you, the expression on his face awaiting. Like he expected you to tell him something. Making it almost feel as if this was frequent enough to make you expect him and tell him you knew why he was there. And that sadly was the truth. How awful that he’d started to care now that you’d gotten yourself into a mess. But there was a way to dodge this bullet. “You can feed on me tonight if you’d like?” And all you could do was watch his expression fall for a moment, taken aback by the response to his knowing look. But the fun of that didn’t last for very long, he was serious. “Darling, no. This isn’t the time, and you know that yourself.” He answered. Boring, you thought. But regretted the rebellion in your mind straight after. “Well in that case, I’ll get some rest,” you informed him before tucking yourself under the familiar blanket. You knew the vampire couldn’t say much else, nor do anything. He didn’t wish to start any commotion. So the only option left was to drop the topic, there was no use in trying to force anything out of you. And he knew that, respected the choice and left for his own bed. 

But the sleep you’d told yourself would eventually come, never did. The touches never relented, at times becoming more faint but at that point it meant nothing. The sound of the others slowly drifting to their beds and the chatter quieting down got your attention for a moment. But after that it all fell back into the same old silence, in which the condition you were in felt the worst. Because breaking the silence at times like these with any of the sounds you’d held back would have shattered whatever crumbs of self respect you were holding on to. 

Saying that hours had passed since the others had fallen asleep sounded like an overestimate, but then again it wouldn’t have been a surprise. This wasn’t the first time the incubus had done this, you wouldn’t have been oh so familiar with all of this if it had been so. And just like any other time, you laid awake. And to truly follow the usual protocol, the decision to leave and get a breather was the next obvious choice. 

With careful steps, which through thorough practise had learned which plank didn’t squeak, you escaped the pestering silence. Then again, this time of night it seemed just as quiet anywhere you went. A lucky catch if you heard commotion somewhere nearby when entering the terrace outside. Which is where you’d headed, sat down on one of the chairs that sat lonely in a corner. 

It wasn’t necessarily the fresh air that helped, the night air was always so cold anyway. But it was the feeling of not being a bother, not letting absolutely everyone around you have to listen and worry. Worst of all, feel bad. 

A shaky sigh mixed with something like a whine escaped as you leaned back against the wall behind the chair. Eyes closed, there was finally a moment of something that resembled peace. Peace, if you fully excluded the plaguing touches and caresses. A sound dangerously close by got your attention though, getting your eyes to snap open. Nothing but the endless hell with the incubus seemed to last that night. 

In the faint light of the terrace it took you an embarrassing amount of time to even make out a shape. Nevertheless, figure out who it was. But maybe you could blame it on the feelings you were experiencing, later on. Just to save face. 

The figure, now determined to be who you should have expected. Astarion, made his way over. He sat down rather calmly and stayed quiet before drawing in a breath and talking. “Assuming you won’t tell me otherwise, I hope there's nothing troubling you my dear?” You always hoped that his arrival would have been more of a fifty fifty in the usual protocol, but it never was. Neither were the things he said, or how he treated you when it came to this. “Perfectly fine.” You glanced at him, another hitched sigh making its escape, tired of being held back. ���That’d be funnier if it was anyone but you,” he said while shifting his chair a little closer. The silence he gave you after was plaguing enough in the cold of the night that it forced you to say something. “It’s all the same, no matter what I do. If only I’d be strong enough to completely ignore it.” You shook your head before turning to look at him, expecting a certain answer from him. Knowing he wasn’t very happy per say about your recent approach to this. Yet, never angry. He took a fast breath but the words he’d prepared never came out. Hoping that the pleading look you’d given him had softened some of the words he’d originally thought of. “I know what it’s like, to lose control of what you have. But you of all people shouldn’t have to.” The rest of the words he’d held back escaped with an exhale at the end, left unspoken. But in truth, you wouldn’t have heard them anyway. The other questions so often filling your mind had appeared back the second he’d come after you. And as per usual, there was no holding them back as they escaped your lips. “Were you ever angry with me for the choice I made?” The exchange of yourself for a piece of information. And as often as you found yourself rewording these same questions, he took the time to answer them. Each time so swiftly that you had to believe he was telling you the truth, “Of course not, dear. More so at the creature itself.” But he couldn’t possibly leave it there. “The control you had was not complete. You don’t have to blame yourself.” 

Awful how he cared, making it harder to keep yourself together. “I’m not sure if I blame myself exactly. I’m not sure if it was worth it. I wonder if it ever made anyone, you, angry.” A shudder ran along your spine, shaking your head slightly to get rid of it before continuing. Not daring to look at the man next to you for longer. “But maybe he’ll get tired of the form eventually. In due time, I’d be mostly free. It’s just…he’s been..active today.” You rambled, eyes resting on the comfort of your lap. But even then, you could almost feel the pair of red eyes piercing through you in the dark. Filled with an emotion you didn’t dare to name, not to even look in fear that it would confirm the care for you he’d formed. 

He stayed quiet, the sound of his and your breathing keeping the silence at bay. Even the breath he drew sounded loud, but his words never seemed to be. As per protocol. “Come inside. I’ll be with you, however you want for me to,” he offered so kindly it almost caused you to cringe. Maybe there was still some getting used to you had to do before this would become more comfortable. But you knew he was trying to fix something within himself as well by doing this. He was trying to offer you something he was never given. So maybe taking a hold of his hand and accepting the offer wasn’t for your sake, but for his. 

His steps were as careful as yours has been, as he led the both of you to his bed. You sat down first, flush against the headboard, wishing it would have provided some sort of comfort from the touches. Astarion stood beside the bed for a moment, holding back on a question before it slipped from him, “what would you like to do, darling?” He asked, making you wonder what it was you wanted. To have the peace of mind you had before. Well, what had been left of it after the tadpole had nestled itself somewhere back there. The shiver that ran along your spine interrupted that train of thought. The only thing you could still achieve and wished to have was rest.  “To sleep,” you answered while observing the man sit down and lean against the headboard. He’d left space for you to come over if you so pleased, a silent invitation. 

You knew he probably wasn’t the most ideal person to comfort someone, but also could see that he felt a form of compassion when it came to this. And knowing that he saw a fragment of himself within you hurt deeper than any deal with an incubus ever could. 

You climbed up to him, leaning your back against his chest before kicking the blanket to a comfortable position. The space was so silent, but hearing Astarion breathe removed any thoughts of that. Keeping your attention on how his chest rose and fell in a familiar rhythm. 

His arms snaked their way carefully around your waist, careful as if there was a chance you’d tell him to back off. But you would never, not when he’d finally allowed someone to care for him and come close. He leaned forward just enough to be able to talk quietly. “It won’t last forever. But I’m sorry all the same.” He said, leaning his head back to rest. And there was an ounce of truth in his words, even if he had meant that this time wasn’t going to last forever. Most likely not even until the next morning. But that the deal wouldn’t last forever either. Astarion himself had assumed the same of his fate, but had gotten the chance to change that path in the end. And the thought of that gave you some form of peace of mind, at last. 

And at last the rest you’d been craving for came, slowly and late. But it didn’t matter anymore. The knowledge of not having to be alone and having someone to care for you was hard to accept but maybe you’d get used to it someday. 

[goosefruit]

new year's kiss

vanessa shelly x reader tw: situationship, vanessa has a fear of intimacy :(( (happy ending though!!) a/n: happy new year!!! hope vanessa gives yall a kiss at midnight <33

“Hey Y/N, Over here!”  The familiar voice shouted at you over the noise of conversations and wine glasses clinking. 

You breathed a sigh of relief, having been afraid that you would have to navigate this mess of a party alone. The voice came from a nearby couch, where Vanessa lounged with a glass of champagne in hand. You noticed that she was still in her police uniform, as opposed to the sparkly dresses most of the other girls wore. 

“Did you just get here? Sorry I didn’t see you earlier, too many people at the front door.” Her face lit up as you approached her. She made room for you to sit, which you graciously accepted. 

“Yeah, just a couple minutes ago. My bad for being late, the traffic was wild…you know, with today being New Year’s Eve and all.” 

To be honest, the only reason you were here instead of basking in the comfortable silence of your own apartment was because of the very pretty blonde cop seated before you. This was her friend’s New Year celebration, but she had invited you as a plus one, despite you not knowing a single other person. 

“You look gorgeous,” there was a twinkle in her green eyes. “That dress is absolutely perfect on you.”

Your cheeks grew hot at her compliment, self-consciously adjusting the straps of your tight black dress. “And you look amazing as always. But I have to ask, why the uniform?” 

“Oh, I didn’t have time to drive home so I just came straight from work. Almost startled a few people ‘cause they thought I was here for a noise complaint!” 

Somehow, everything Vanessa said made you giggle. There was something so charming about the way she carried herself, and her soothing voice was honey to your ears. 

Not to mention, she looked hot as hell in that uniform. 

Your conversation turned to the topic of work, then New Year’s resolutions, and then whatever random subject you could think of to keep her talking. 

It was nearing midnight when she asked: “So, what’s your biggest wish for this new year?”

Your eyebrows knitted together at having to choose just one.

“I mean, besides ‘stop pulling unnecessary all-nighters’ and ‘remembering to floss every day’.” She chuckled as she recalled the long list of resolutions you had recited to her earlier. “Something…life-changing. Something out of your control, even.” 

Looking into her dazzling eyes, the answer came to you simply and plainly. 

“I want to fall in love.” 

If you didn’t know any better, you might’ve already been falling in love with this irresistible woman. How could you not? You were drawn to her from the moment you met. 

It was evident that Vanessa adored you too, taking you out for dates and texting you ‘good morning’ and ‘good night’ every day without fail. 

Which was why it frustrated you so much that you couldn’t call her your girlfriend. 

Every time you tried to bring up making things official, she would tell you that she needed time to think things through. That she wasn’t ready, that she needed to clean up family matters, or that she hadn’t come out yet.

You were willing to wait for her, but you didn’t know how much patience you had left. 

“Y/N…” Vanessa seemed to get the hint. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pressure yo-”

“Let’s talk about this outside, how ‘bout that? It’s too loud in here and I need a breath of fresh air.” 

She dragged you out to the driveway, where her police car was parked amongst a sea of the other partygoers’ vehicles. You climbed into the passenger seat beside her, head finally a little clearer away from the noise. 

“You have every right to be angry at me, and I completely understand if you want to see someone else instead.” Vanessa started before you could say anything. “I haven’t been fair to you. I want you to be happy, I want your wish to come true, but I know I’m getting in the way.” 

“Vanessa, I’m happiest when I’m with you. It sounds cheesy as fuck but there’s no better way to put it.” 

“But I know you want something more serious than what we’ve got.” She completed your thought. Vanessa opened her mouth to continue, but nothing came out. 

An awkwardness came over the two of you before you broke the silence.

“I don’t know the real reason as to why you can’t commit, and I won’t pretend to know. But Vanessa,” you paused and made sure that she was looking back at you. “You deserve to fall in love too. You don’t have to wait till everything’s perfect, because then you’ll be waiting forever.”

“Bu-”

“I know your family is imperfect—-and you can tell me more about it when you’re ready—-and I know you like to close yourself off to protect the people around you from whatever it is that terrifies you so much. But my dear, we can work through that together! That’s what a partner is for, and I want to be the one that you can turn to.”

Vanessa fidgeted with the sleeve of her uniform, trying to hide her watery eyes from your searching gaze. No one had ever spoken to her with such tenderness. 

“So can you be the one that I fall in love with next year?” You could practically hear your heart pound as you awaited her response.

She finally allowed her eyes to meet yours in the dim light of her car. There was something there, other than the shadow of fear that appeared whenever you got too close. Her eyes were seeking permission, glancing at your lips intently. 

You leaned in closer to her.

Suddenly, that shadow of fear in her eyes seemed to vanish, now replaced by a fiery sort of determination. 

You reached out and grabbed her tie, pulling her in and crashing your lips together. 

Outside, you could hear fireworks explode in the sky and people cheering as the last second of the year ticked by. 

You felt Vanessa smile against your lips, cupping your face and deepening the kiss.

[burntb4bydoll]

Face sitting with 2023 Bill??

YALL HAVE BEEN ASKING FOR THIS SO HERE YOU GOOO

2023 Bill Kaulitz x fem!reader

Warnings: face sitting duhh, praising (both ways lol), service dom Bill🤭 it’s written as 2023 Bill but can be read as any era!!

“Please? I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the week! I just want taste you so bad!” Bill whines, his face digging into your thigh. You groan and set aside the work you were doing.

“You know, you’re interrupting my work. I mean, I know I got good pussy but Jesus it can’t be that good!” You teased, laughing at your own joke. His mouth started leaving open mouthed kisses all over your inner thighs.

“It is that good. Just sit on my face, please? I know you like doing that.” You pretend to think about it for a moment, making him whine again and bite you leg. “Hey! Don’t bite me, asshole! I was gonna say yes but now-” before you could finish your sentence Bill flips you over so that he’s laying underneath you with his head between your legs.

“Too late, Im already underneath you so theres no going back now.” He murmurs, kissing your cunt through your thin shorts. You tried to get up to take them off, but Bill wraps his arms around your legs and keeps you in place. “You don’t need to take them off, I’ll just move them to the side.” His hands pull your shorts to the side, revealing that you weren’t wearing anything underneath them. (It’s easier to write that way, SORRY🙄)

Bill’s tongue wastes no time, diving straight into you. Gasping, you buck your hips at the feeling. Hes always had a lack of patience when it comes to eating you out, always so desperate to please you. You push his hair out of his face so that you can see him better. “You look so beautiful, Bill. Always so pretty.” Bill whines and his eyes flutter shut, he loves hearing you praise him. His mouth moves harshly, attempting to make you feel even better. With his eyes now open, he watches your reactions to his new movements. Your hips move without your permission, grinding on his face for a moment before you stopped yourself. Once he sees your body starting to tremble gently he soothes his hands over your thighs, giving them light squeezes of encouragement.

“It’s alright, pretty baby. Ride my face, do whatever you want to me.” Bill mumbles, his mouth only slightly pulling away from you. Your mouth fall open, soft moans spilling out as you start to move against his tongue. Bill gives you multiple hums of approval, urging you to keep going. “Always such a good girl, doing whatever I tell you to. You look like a goddess right now.” His muffled words draw you closer to finishing, making your stomach tighten and your eyes tear up.

“Bill..I’m gonna cum. Fuck! You’re so good~!” Your voice is breathy from trying to hold back your orgasm so that you could warn him.

“Come on, cum for me, sweetheart. Please cum..” Bill keeps rambling, even when he stuffs his mouth back onto your pussy. The vibrations from his mumbling pushed you straight into your orgasm, your thighs clamping around his head. He groans loudly, damn near cumming his pants at the sight above him. But even after your finished, he doesn’t stop. He only grabs your hips harder and speeds up his tongue…

[notiddygothgf]

4. Taste Like Nicotine

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ Go back to Himeno. ❞ ❝ No. That's not what you want. ❞

★ c.w.: suggestive themes, drinking (more content warnings and tags)

★ a/n: HELLO AGAIN MY POOKIE DOOKIES!! IM BACK AGAIN. bc i have nothing better to do atm and i wanted to give yall a lil sum sum before i moved away to uni. please excuse the pacing of this chapter -- this fanfic was supposed to be a oneshot and uh... now its 160 pages in google docs LMFAOOA.. things get spicy in this chapterrr! so yeah anyway, you know the drill, keep me entertained -- keep your funny little comments coming, I absolutely love reading them. You guys motivate me to keep going! Love yall

★ w.c.;4.1k

shameless ; chapter index

THE OFFICE WAS QUIET, the hum of fluorescent lights and the occasional rustling of papers the only sounds that broke the silence. You were alone, finishing up some last-minute paperwork after hours. The mission had gone surprisingly well—no casualties, a rare feat in your line of work. The team had even managed to kill a large Devil containing a piece of Gun Devil Flesh, a significant victory. Yet, instead of joining the others to celebrate, you had chosen to stay behind. Partly to avoid any awkward encounters with Himeno, but mostly because you felt restless, unable to shake off the events of the past few days.

As you finished up the last of your reports, you glanced at the new message on your phone.

HIMENO| you didn't come tonight.

Typing...

YOU

| I didn't think you'd wanna see me after the stunt I pulled.

HIMENO| I dont, but I wanted u to know that everyone is talking abt u

YOU

| ??

| wym

HIMENO

| your shadow didn't come tonight, either.

Typing...

YOU| look, himeno, ive actually been wanting to talk to you about that

| would you be able to meet up and talk it out?

HIMENO| id rather not honestly.

| ur a grown woman and i cant stop u from doing what u want

| but just know that people in pb. safety talk

| dont mess up a relationship with a perfectly good man for aki

| u should leave him for someone who can actually give him what he needs

YOU| I understand that I've hurt you, Himeno, and I'm sorry

| I have no intentions of being with Aki.

HIMENO| good

| dont get him mixed up in ur fucked up marriage

|  he doesnt deserve that.

You sighed, pocketing your phone. There were certain battles you simply couldn't win. This would undoubtedly be one of them.

It was late, and you knew you should head home. You gathered your things and made your way down the dimly lit hallways, your footsteps echoing in the emptiness.

As you passed the breakroom, you heard voices. One familiar voice, more specifically.

You slowed your pace, not wanting to intrude but curious enough to catch a snippet of the conversation. The door was slightly ajar, and you could see two figures inside.

"You look desperate, dude," the unknown person said, barely audible. "It's not attractive."

"I'm becoming ridiculous," Captain Hayakawa said, his voice low and strained. "I'm losing hope."

"Hope of what? Convincing a married woman to break her vows?" the other person retorted, a hint of incredulity in his tone.

Are they talking about me? You asked. You knew the answer. You simply did not want to confront it.

Hayakawa sighed. "I thought she would call me by now," he admitted, the vulnerability in his voice making your stomach churn uncomfortably. "I just... there was something there."

There was a pause, then the other person sighed, his voice softening. "God, you are ridiculous." After a moment, he added, almost reluctantly, "Shit, sorry, man. I know you like her."

"No, you're right," He replied, a note of resignation following his words. "She doesn't want to speak to me. I'm driving myself crazy waiting for someone who's never gonna call."

You felt a knot tighten in your stomach, guilt and confusion swirling together. You hadn't intended to eavesdrop, but now you couldn't just walk away without feeling a pang of something—regret, perhaps? The slip of paper with his number, still in your possession, weighed heavily in your mind. You had been avoiding the situation, avoiding him, and now it was clear how much it had affected him.

Aki's words echoed in your ears as you stood frozen in the hallway.

He was right; you hadn't called him. You hadn't even acknowledged the note, too caught up in your own turmoil and guilt to consider his feelings. Now, hearing him speak so openly, you felt a rush of emotions—sympathy, guilt, confusion. There had been a moment between you, an undeniable spark, but you had chosen to ignore it, to pretend it didn't exist.

When would it all come crashing down – your efforts? This whole situation?

The conversation in the breakroom continued, but you couldn't listen any longer. You turned away, your heart pounding. As you made your way to the exit, you couldn't help but replay Aki's words in your mind.

He had been waiting for you, hoping you would reach out, and now he was losing hope. Fuck.

He had been waiting for me.

The idea thrilled you, for some strange reason. Maybe because you hadn't felt desired like this in years – it made your head spin. But another part of you was terrified—of what it might mean, of the complications it would bring, of the impact on your marriage.

You couldn't help yourself. You did what you always did. You ran away from him.

You knew you couldn't avoid him forever, but for now, you needed time to think. .

7:45 PM

Typing... 

Hey. |

Typing...

Hello, |

Typing...

How are you? |

Typing...

Hey. They're taking me out for drinks tn as a sendoff party. I think you should be there.

SENT.

YOU | Hey. They're taking me out for drinks tn as a sendoff party.

I think you should be there.

| At the Sip-n-savor in downtown Tokyo

Seen 8:00 PM .

The night went on without a flaw. The atmosphere was infectious, and you had been trying to let loose, drink in hand, as you chatted and danced with the others. But as the night wore on, a sense of unease settled in. Maybe it was the drinks, maybe it was the memories of the overheard conversation in the breakroom, or maybe it was the subtle disappointment that someone hadn't shown up.

Excusing yourself, you made your way to the bathroom. The mirror reflected your flushed cheeks and slightly smudged makeup. You sighed, turning on the faucet and splashing some water on your face. As you washed your hands, you found yourself thinking about Aki.

Despite everything, a depraved part of you had hoped to see him tonight. You had been both relieved and disappointed when he hadn't shown up—relieved because it meant avoiding an awkward conversation, disappointed because you had been... well, actually looking forward to seeing him.

As you touched up your makeup, you couldn't help but reflect on your own conflicted feelings. You were married, committed, and yet, Aki had stirred something in you that you simply couldn't stand to ignore. It was confusing, disorienting. You weren't sure what you felt more strongly: guilt for being drawn to him or frustration that you couldn't just let it go.

"Ugh," You groaned, pressing your forehead against the sink. "'M g'nna be sick."

Feeling a bit lightheaded from the drinks, you decided to step outside for some fresh air. You left the bathroom and – completely drunk – maneuvered through the crowds to the nearest door.

The cool night breeze was a welcome relief against your warm skin, and you leaned against the balcony railing, taking deep breaths. The city lights twinkled below, and you watched them in a daze, trying to steady your thoughts.

That's when you saw him.

Aki was just entering the party, his sharp suit and dark hair making him stand out immediately. You felt your heart skip a beat. Then another. He was killing you.

He came, you thought, a strange mix of emotions flooding you. Relief, excitement, and that persistent undercurrent of guilt all tangled together.

He spotted you almost immediately and made his way over. As he approached, you couldn't help but think how painfully gorgeous he looked, the dim lighting casting a soft glow on his features. In that moment, he seemed almost like a knight in shining armor, a figure out of place in the lively, chaotic setting of the bar.

"Hey," he greeted, his voice smooth and warm, a balm to your nerves.

"Hey," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked, a slight concern in his tone. "You're not cold?"

He always seemed to be worried about you and the weather. Still, the chill felt nice against your hot skin, oddly enough.

I missed you, you didn't say. You didn't even think about it. You knew that in a day you would be back on the train and all of this would just be a bad dream, anyway.

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "No, I just needed some air. It's a bit stuffy in there."

Aki didn't respond immediately, and when you turned your head up to look at him, his expression was unreadable. The noise from inside the bar seemed distant, the world narrowing down to just the two of you in that moment. You felt a tug in your chest, a pull towards him that you couldn't explain, couldn't deny.

"Did you pregame the bar, or something?" You laughed quietly. It felt nice, being able to pretend nothing had ever happened between the two of you and just... enjoy each other's company. "You smell like beer."

"I was having a few drinks with my roommate before you texted me," He answered. Then, looking out onto the street, he added, "He told me I shouldn't come tonight. Said you're driving me crazy."

"So, why are you here, then?" You asked.

He looked at you. "I think you know why I'm here."

There was a brief silence, comfortable yet charged with the unspoken. You glanced at him, noticing the way his eyes lingered on you, soft but searching. It was the same look he had given you in the seminar, the museum, everywhere else, and it stirred something deep inside you.

You hated the way he made you feel.

"Can I buy you a drink?" He asked you. His voice was as deep and rich as ever, and you had about half a mind to take him up on the offer.

You shivered. You knew it wasn't from the cold air. It was him – the smell of him, his cologne, the distinct scent of nicotine that let you know he had just finished smoking a cigarette. It was an aroma so unique to him that you had grown to like it.

You were looking at his lips before you knew it, giving way to a craving you couldn't explain, "I'll try a cigarette, if you have any."

He smiled softly, reaching into his pocket and flipping open a carton of cigarettes and a lighter. He placed a cancer stick between your lips, and you felt a part of you die a little. He struck the wheel of the lighter, bringing the cigarette to life.

You coughed so hard that you nearly hacked up a lung. It had been years since your last cigarette.

Hayakawa stepped behind you, cupping a hand around your elbow, sliding it up your arm, your wrist, your fingers before he plucked the cigarette from your digits.

"First time?" He asked, warm voice hot against your neck.

"Wanted to give it a try," You shrugged. You didn't know what, exactly, had gotten into you. It seemed that with every sip of liquor you took lately, you crept closer and closer back to your old self. The sort of liquid courage that made people make very bad decisions. "Sorry. I'm a little," You waved your hands around yourself, trying to gesture 'drunk' without actually saying it.

"How brave of you," He murmured, pulling a hit from your cigarette and exhaling. He was the picture of sin – face flushed with alcohol, messy bangs, pink lips wrapped around a cancer stick. He was so pretty it hurt.

"I'll try it again when I'm sober," You offered.

"When?" He asked, breathing smoke out into the air. "Where?"

As persistent as always, you thought. Still, you didn't necessarily mind the attention anymore. You told yourself that it didn't matter – you would be out of here soon anyway, and everything would be far behind you before you knew it.

"Why is it that every time I'm inebriated... God tests me by throwing you in my way?" You laughed, Truly, you wished you had considered the implications of your words a little more before you had said them. "Just as I thought your manners had improved since the party. You behaved badly, then. You know that? Very badly," you hiccuped. "You should be ashamed of yourself, throwing– hic–throwing yourself at a married woman like that."

He didn't acknowledge your drunken ramblings, and he also didn't deny the fact that he had been doing exactly that – throwing himself at a married woman.

"Hardly my fault," He breathed out. "I just can't seem to resist you."

"Don't worry," You replied, eyeing him up dubiously as he pulled another hit from what was left of your cigarette. "I'm leaving tomorrow. Won't have to worry about resisting me after that."

"I know," He answered back. "Selfishly enough, I spent the last few hours wishing your train got delayed one more day, or something like that," He exhaled, then snuffed his cigarette out on the balcony, "Still, I'm glad I could see you before you went home."

"I wish I could say the same about you," You replied before you could stop the words from coming out.

He poked his tongue through the inside of his cheek, retorting, "You're gonna sit here and act like you didn't invite me? Like your eyes didn't light up like a child when you saw me pull up?" He turned around, commanding even more of your attention, standing at least a foot and a half taller than you. "You wanted me to come tonight."

It was true. That's the worst part. Everything he said was the truth.

"So that I could say goodbye," You said with remarkable finality, "I'm leaving after this."

You hadn't originally planned on leaving so soon, of course, but you wanted to get the hell out of here before you made another bad decision.

"Already?" He asked.

"You're the one who ran late," You replied. "This ends tonight. I'm going to say bye to everyone else, then I'll be gone."

With that being said, you made your way back to the door. You would go inside, bid everyone farewell, collect your belongings, and then–

He called your name before you could go back inside. You froze in place.

"Am I misreading the signals?" He asked.

You sighed, turning around one last time to clear the air, "This has to stop, Aki. You make me feel like... like I'm guilty of something."

He implored you, "What do you want me to do?"

"Go back to Himeno," You answered, a biting undertone seeping through your words. You were undeniably bitter about the whole situation, and under any other circumstances, you would have tried to be a good sport, but...

Himeno's words were a heavy weight on your heart.

'Don't mess up a relationship with a perfectly good man for Aki.'

'You should leave him for someone who can actually give him what he needs."

You could never be what Aki wanted. He wanted all of you – not just a week of you, clearly. You were married, and you couldn't let all of that go over a guy you'd been toeing the line with for what seemed like ages.

He was a young man. The fact of the matter was that you were a grown woman. A married one.

"She's a sweet, kind woman," You continued. You felt like you were going to be sick just being near him. Unknowingly, tears began to prickle at the corners of your eyes. "Go back and beg her to forgive you. Go be with someone who wants to be with you. Who can be with you."

"No," He answered simply. There was an intensity in his eyes that frightened you, like he would die without you, as he continued, "That's not what you want. I think we both know that. I refused a mission in Hiroshima to stay here with you. I planned to let go of another one in Beijing," He swallowed, "I can change my mind, and you'll never see me again."

"If you have any consideration for me," Your voice was a shuddering whisper, like someone could walk out any minute and hear the two of you going back and forth. "Any semblance– a shrivel of compassion, you'll give me back my peace."

He shook his head, "I can't. You know I can't. You've consumed every inch of my peace, every inch of my mind. How can I give you your peace?"

Fair point.

You had nothing to say to him. So, silently, your vision blurred with tears, you glared at him. Glared and frowned like that would make you believe he was the sole contributor to this issue. Then, again, you turned on your heel and went for the door. You entered the bar quickly.

He followed not too long after you, "I'll go to Beijing, then."

"No." You said. Your teary-eyed fury caught the eyes of more than a few confused bar patrons. "I don't want you to go."

Everyone was looking at you. Seriously, everyone. Your old coworkers, the bartenders, everybody.

You swallowed down your pride, bowing down before them all. "Good night, everyone," You said. You plucked your purse and your jacket off of the barstool. "Thank you for everything. I'm leaving."

Ignoring the confused looks and hushed whispers from the patrons, you exited the bar, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. The rain had started to fall, a soft drizzle quickly turning into a steady downpour. You barely noticed, too wrapped up in the turmoil inside your head. The cold, wet sensation of the rain soaked through your clothes, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. You just needed to get away, to clear your mind.

But of course, Aki followed after you. You could hear him calling your name, his voice barely audible over the sound of the rain. You quickened your pace, almost running, your heels splashing through puddles as you made your way down the block. His footsteps pounded behind you, matching your speed. You couldn't escape him, couldn't outrun him.

Finally, he caught up to you, grabbing your arm to stop you. "Wait, can we please talk?" he pleaded, his voice breathless and desperate.

You turned to face him, rain pouring down around you both. His hair was plastered to his forehead, his suit jacket soaked through. The intensity in his eyes matched the storm, a fierce determination that made your heart ache. You met his gaze begrudgingly, not wanting to deal with this, not wanting to deal with him.

"Have I really been imagining all of this?" He asked. He sounded broken. "Is it really all in my head? Tell me if it's a lie. Tell me to leave you alone. Tell me you mean it—all of it," he paused, taking a shuddering breath. "Or tell me the truth."

You swallowed hard, the weight of the situation crashing down on you. "I don't know how to feel, Aki," you finally admitted, your voice barely a whisper. "I'm trying to be good, but you just keep fucking—popping up everywhere. And you say these pretty things to me, and," You choked back a sob, struggling to find the right words. "I can't help myself around you."

"Running from your problems won't make me go away," he said, stepping forward to put his hands gently on your waist.

There was a long pause as you stood there in the rain, staring at each other. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you. The storm, the bar, everything else was just a blur. You were tired—tired of running, tired of the confusion, tired of pretending that everything was fine when it wasn't.

He added, "You can't run from your feelings."

This time, it was his eyes that dropped to your lips. His tongue darted out to dampen his own, and then his eyes flicked up to your face. When he spoke, his voice was huskier than before, as if it had been tainted by an emotion that hadn't been there before. Was it lust? Passion? Whatever it was, you wanted more of it.

Your eyes widened. Your mouth had run dry. You didn't know what to say. Even being like this right now -- as close as you were, -- was against your wedding vows. This was wrong, and you couldn't do that to your own husband.

Your own husband who loved you so dearly.

Your own husband who left you hanging so many nights on end.

Your own husband, who acted as if he couldn't care if you lived or died.

As if he had sensed your train of thought wandering, Aki placed two fingers beneath your chin, lifting your face up until he was the captor of all of your attention. Him and him alone. Not your husband, but him.

"I could treat you like a princess," His eyes wandered down to your lips again, but this time there was an unspoken hunger within them. "All you have to do is ask, and I'm yours. I already am."

And, God, what a fool you had been in uttering the words, "Don't toy with my emotions. You don't want me."

He paused, awaiting something, anything. His eyes pleaded with your own, luring you in with promises of pleasure and happiness. Gently, he grabbed your hand, placing it over his breast, right above his heart.

"I want you so badly it hurts," He breathed, "For a night, for a day, for a week..." Aki closed the gap between the two of you – brought your faces closer together. Closer, until you could feel the warmth of his calm breath fanning out against your cheek. Closer, until he uttered, "As long as you'll let me have you."

"Aki, I can't-...." You paused. Yet, still, you never moved. Your body betrayed your words, dilated pupils and trembling hands giving way to your internal dilemma. "This is wrong. You know I can't do this."

You were being a hypocrite. You knew you were. One spare glance down at the placement of your hands on his chest -- one over his breast and one looped around his tie -- and you knew he could tell you were only putting up a front.

"I know," he murmured softly, words practically dying beneath the volume of the rain, "But I can't stop thinking about you."

You folded. Your eyes dropped down to his lips one last time, and that's when you knew he had already won.

Fuck it.

"Fuck you," you muttered, feeling a surge of reckless abandon.

Without thinking, you reached out and pulled him towards you, crashing your lips against his in a desperate, frenzied kiss. It was messy and wet, your tears mixing with the rain, your hands tangling in his hair as his arms finally wrapped around you.

The kiss was filled with all the pent-up emotions, the longing, the frustration, the desire. It was passion, it was anger – it was tongue and teeth and lips smearing your lipstick over the lower half of your face. It was two black holes finally colliding after circling around each other far too long.

"I can't make sense of it. I want... you," you sighed, pulling away, voice trembling, "I don't know what any of this means anymore. I don't know what to think."

"Then don't," he whispered, his breath warm against your lips. He tasted like cigarette smoke, beer and mint gum – a flavor so utterly addicting that you couldn't seem to get enough of it. "Don't think. Let me take you back to your room."

You hesitated, the reality of the situation hitting you. This was crossing a line, a line you couldn't uncross. But as you looked into his eyes, saw the same turmoil reflected back at you, you felt your resolve crumble.

You were tired of pretending.

"Okay," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the rain. It was a final, resigned acceptance, the last nail in the coffin of your restraint.

You were tired of running from the inevitable.

a/n: dont hate me. LMFAOAOAOOAOA. i had to! i absolutely loved writing this chapter and i loved writing tipsy obsessed aki. i headcannon that he's a touchy needy bf and no one can tell me otherwise. i think you all know what happens next. im not sayin nothin tho. hehe. ANYWAYYYYY LMK WHAT YALL THOUGHTTTTT i look forward to hearing it!!! lmk what yall wanna see in the next few chapters/over the course of the story. and if youve already watched anna karenina (or read, in which case... how...) shhhhhh youve seen nothing. muah! x

credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found the cover pic on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

taglist: @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505 , @acethebrave , @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505

wanna join the taglist? | shameless ; chapter index

[lilyarchived]

You asked for ideas. I got you.

Reader is Laswell's Stepkid. They got in trouble at college or whatever you pick, and laswell has to take them to work. Reader gets told you see nothing and hear nothing, so they keep their headphones on. Obviously the task force is there. Gaz spots the reader and the reader in that moment looks up, meeting eachothers gaze. I leave the rest of this up to you and how you wish to proceed. I just want more Gaz.

love struck in seconds [kyle "gaz" garrick]

warnings: swearing, writer has never gotten near the game except when her brother comes home from college, 0.6k words,  uhh idk tba

summary: college hasn’t been treating you well, resulting in Laswell having to bring you along during her work. Military work. just so happen to meet a cute military boy.

a/n: YALL. DO NOT HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH GAZ HAS BEEN ROTTING MY BRAIN LATELY I CANNOOOOOOOTTTTTTTT,, sorry this took so long to get out, exam week has been killing meeeheeehee (basing off the fact that gaz is around 27 and reader is 24 coz i SAID SO)

[...]

It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t your fault that you got suspended for a week. It was never your fault when you sucker punched that rabid girl. What? She was a bully, for Christ's sake. No one put her in her place, you basically just did the dean’s job for them. So here you were, holding on to your stepmom (who just so happened to be the station chief) for dear life as she walked through some sort of base; soldiers’ heavy boots crunching the gravel as they train.

“You don’t see nor hear anything.” was the last thing Laswell had told you as you had gotten out of the car. Now you were standing in some random hallway, waiting for her as she “just had to get something real quick”.  As you mindlessly scroll through pinterest, you hear faint laughter nearing in. so faint that it just so manages to go through your headphones blasting radiohead. ‘I don’t see nor hear anything.’ you repeat in your mind, hoping to mind your business just once. You pause your music as do the men coming your way when they see you. 

Your headphones had noise cancellation off so you’d hear their whispers: “who’s that?” “might be a newbie, yew reckon?” “Look's about gaz’s age.” your finger lifts off the screen. ‘Idontseenorhearanythingidontseenorhearanything.’ fuck it. You look up and bring your headphones down to see a dopey smile coming from a man wearing an uk cap and what looks to be a really heavy vest. 

Your cheeks suddenly start tingling as you absentmindedly smile back. You tilt your head a bit as his friends start freaking out and patting him on the back, smile still evident, you start to remember how highschool boys act the exact same.

He starts walking over as you straighten your posture and pocket your phone. “Hey.” His accent was clear and thick, making you smile a bit more. “Hello.” your smile remained as he started scratching the back of his neck, “you new around ‘ere?” “ahh, well- kind of? it’s just that laswell’s my-” “her stepmom.” The voice ringing in his ear, gaz’s eyes widen and his posture straightens, making you giggle.

“See you’ve gotten acquainted with my kid here, sergeant?” her glare is evident as you roll your eyes and cross your arms. Gaz chuckles in response, before she continues “you can stay in my office for the rest of the day, if you’d like.” she speaks, but her words are blurred as you stare back at a smiling gaz. She sighs defeatedly as she looks back at the man before tasking him to “keep her safe, show her around, no funny business, back before dinner.”

He smirks as he holds out his hand, awaiting for yours. “Yes ma’am.” he says walking away as you finally intertwine your fingers with his. “Don’t call me ma’am!” you hear laswell yell as you giggle and follow gaz like a lost puppy. "got any icecream? it's burning hot in here." you whine as you start to slow down your walking, finally taking in the sight of this place. he chuckles at your innocence as he replies, "i might have a secret stash, darl'. only if you promise not to tell." "who would i even snitch to?" "your mo-" "i'm snitching." "nO"

arrrgh i hate this might renew soon but i just wanted this out of my drafts LOL

[withacapitalp]

How to Rehabilitate a Jock pt 14

Part One Part Thirteen Link to Ao3 Part Fifteen

Thank you to @stevethehairington for betaing and @thefreakandthehair for always being the world's best cheerleader/support!!! Also everyone @angstflayer-council for motivating me to finish this chapter. I hope you guys like it!! ALSO I FORGOT TAG LISTS FOR PART THIRTEEN SORRY YALL I FIXED IT THIS TIME

Step Fourteen: Ask for a Second Opinion

Eddie and Wayne had a routine for gig nights. 

First Wayne would get home from his shift and go about his normal business. Shucking off work clothes, grabbing a quick cold shower, fixing himself a sandwich with whatever leftovers they had in the fridge- the same thing he did every night when he came back from the plant. Then, when all that was taken care of, he would turn on the radio to listen to the news, grab a beer from the fridge, and pull out the most important thing in their trailer. 

The waffle iron. 

It was an ancient thing, a giant heavy slab of metal that had been passed down from Great Granny Munson herself. Eddie was ninety nine percent sure it would outlive him too, but that was just a fact of Munson life. The cord for the waffle iron was frayed in about half a dozen places, and it smoked if it was powered on for longer than an hour at a time, but there was no denying that the beat up old thing made the best damn waffles Eddie had ever had. 

If Eddie had it his way, they would eat waffles every single day. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. They were his all time favorite food and when he had first moved in with Wayne they were all he would eat. Eventually the two of them had come to a compromise- Eddie could have waffles on Sundays, birthdays, holidays, and any day he brought home a test with a grade that had a B or higher. 

And gig nights. 

Of course, that addition had come later. Wayne hadn’t allowed him to play at the Hideout until he was legally an adult. It came from a good place (It was just one of the many many ways Wayne had tried to keep Eddie from becoming his father.) but it was still annoying being forced to wait that long. 

The waffles kind of made it worth the wait though. 

The next part of the routine was Eddie. Eddie would come home egregiously late, and they would eat together. As they ate through ridiculously high stacks of delicious syrupy goodness, Eddie would tell Wayne everything that had happened.

Nothing was off the table. Eddie would tell Wayne about whatever drugs he took, if he drank, if he dealt, whatever his uncle asked about. By now he had learned that Wayne was just looking out for him. And as long as he was honest, Wayne would let him keep doing what he was doing. He just wanted to be in the loop, and that was a small thing to ask. 

This was the first gig night that Eddie was home before Wayne. 

“I didn’t know how to make the batter,” Eddie said as soon as Wayne opened the door, causing the man to jump out of his skin from being started. Eddie gave his uncle a nervous little grin from where he was sitting on the couch, tapping his fingers against his thighs in incomprehensible patterns. 

“And I was also worried about turning on the waffle iron. Figured you wouldn’t wanna come home to a burnt down trailer and a pile of bones instead of your beloved beloved nephew,” Eddie joked, trying to cut through the tension that had been surrounding him since he came home two hours ago. 

The anxiety fueled energy running through his veins was making it impossible to sit still, impossible to make eye contact as Wayne stared at him with a raised brow. 

“What’d you do?” Wayne asked as he hung up his hat with a put upon sigh. 

“Nothing! Geez Wayne, have a little faith,” Eddie complained, tossing his head back and giving an exaggerated groan. This was easy. Playing a game and making a show of things was something Eddie could do in his sleep, and it was so much more simple than the alternative. He even looked Wayne directly in the eye, just to really sell it. 

“You just think I’m a good for nothin’ troublemaker, don’t you? Spill it, old man, I already know the answer! I am distraught that even my own flesh and blood thinks I’m only capable of tomfoolery.”

Wayne grunted, crossing his arms and giving Eddie one long slow look, peeling back all the layers, lowering all the walls. 

“What’d you do?” Wayne repeated, his tone short and to the point. 

Eddie wilted like a flower. His shoulders hunched inward, and his gaze shot straight to the floor. He dragged one of his socked toes across the carpet in the living room, avoiding his uncle’s piercing gaze. 

“Nothin’” Eddie mumbled, “we just got cut short, that’s all.”

That wasn’t even scratching the surface, but they both knew that. There was no way Wayne was going to leave it at that. 

Sure enough, his uncle just hummed, walking into their small kitchenette and pulling open the fridge.

“Y’all ended early ‘cause of the power outage?” Wayne asked, rhetorically, already knowing the answer. 

Eddie stood up from the couch, coming over to the bar and sitting on one of the stools, nodding glumly as he let his head fall in his palm, still avoiding eye contact. 

“Then what’s wrong?” Wayne asked, passing Eddie a beer as he took a sip from his own and grabbed the eggs. 

“I’m annoyed that our show ended early?” Eddie said, hating that it came out as a question. 

It wasn’t a question, he was annoyed about that. The power outage just wasn’t the thing that was bothering him. 

“And?” Wayne pressed, carefully unwrapping the cord of the waffle iron and gingerly plugging it into the socket. The red light on the front lit up, promising delicious fresh waffles in just minutes.

“And I messed up this super easy riff which pissed me off,” Eddie added, his stomach clenching up as he continued to avoid the actual problem. 

The issue was, he was probably one of the worst liars in the world, and Wayne could smell bullshit a mile off. 

“Eddie, you know our rule,” Wayne said, sounding like the epitome of patience as he whisked batter, his back still turned to his nephew. 

“…Always be honest,” Eddie mumbled, his cheeks flushing as he was forced to recite the single rule Wayne actually had for him. 

Eddie could run as wild as he had to, do whatever it took to get through being a boy like him living in a town like Hawkins, but there couldn’t be secrets between them. Wayne couldn’t protect him if he didn’t know what Eddie was dealing with, and Eddie couldn’t trust that Wayne would always support him if he didn’t give him the chance. 

Normally repeating those words was a comfort, a cathartic tradition that settled Eddie’s soul. No matter what he told Wayne, he would still love him, still support him. Nothing Eddie could do would make his uncle abandon him. 

Today it just felt…invasive. 

“If you can’t talk ‘bout it yet, you can say that,” Wayne reminded him, looking over his shoulder for a second so Eddie could meet his eyes for the first time that night, “just don’t pretend like nothin’s there.” 

It wasn’t that Eddie didn’t want to talk about it. He was actually pretty desperate to, but he didn’t know where to start. He hadn’t intentionally forgotten to tell Wayne about Steve, but he hadn’t come up at all in the last six weeks, and with everything that happened earlier, there was no easy avenue to explain. 

“And I’m worried about my friend,” Eddie admitted quietly, starting with the only thing he was absolutely sure of. 

He was worried about Steve. Really, really, worried.  

“Which friend?” Wayne grunted, pouring out the batter for the first waffle with a satisfying hiss of the iron, “Gareth? Or Jeff?” 

“Steve,” Eddie replied, taking a sip of his drink before he clarified, “Steve Harrington.” 

“Richard’s boy?” Wayne wondered, doing nothing to hide his shock at a Harrington mixing with a Munson. 

“Yeah, but he’s nothing like how you’d expect!” Eddie said quickly, rambling away his anxiety as he drummed his fingers on the countertop. “I mean I thought he was for a while, but he’s actually really cool and sweet and thoughtful and funny and stuff. Like he brought us cookies today before the gig, and he babysits all these weird little nerdy kids too! There’s this whole-“

“Eddie, breathe,” Wayne chuckled, giving his nephew a fond eye roll as he put down a plate in front of him. An absolutely ginormous waffle stared back up at Eddie, already glistening with butter and maple syrup. 

It was perfect. Glorious. Eddie’s stomach was growling. 

“Why are you worried about ‘im? Did somethin’ happen tonight?” Wayne asked, turning back to the iron and starting on his own waffle. 

Eddie launched into his story as he dug into his treat. He started straight from the beginning, right from the first time Steve had accidentally sat at their lunch table all the way to tonight and the panic attack in the middle of the parking lot. He even admitted to the tiny crush that he had once had that was burning a hole in the back of his mind every time Steve smiled at him. 

But there was one big glaring hole in the middle. 

Eddie didn’t say a word about the bet. 

He tried to. He really honestly did. But every time Eddie got close to it, he started to think about the disappointed look Wayne was going to give him, and the deep sigh that was coming with it. Wayne never yelled, never insulted him, but there were times Eddie would have honestly preferred if he did. 

Anger would be so much better than the deep shame that always came with knowing that he had done something Wayne would disapprove of. And this was definitely something Wayne would disapprove of.  

“Then he just left with them, Wayne!” Eddie exploded, finally at the end of the surprisingly long story. Both waffles had already been consumed, the dishes were in the sink to soak, and the two of them were sitting on their beat up old couch, with Eddie’s head resting against Wayne’s shoulder. “Steve got in the car and drove off. With his ex-girlfriend. And the guy she cheated on him with!” 

“Sounds like you’re more upset about that part then he is,” Wayne said, the smile in his tone evident. “Is that what’s actually botherin’ you about all of this?”

“Wayne,” Eddie snapped, cutting off his uncle’s teasing before he could even start. He pulled away, sitting up and waiting until his uncle met his eye before continuing, “this is serious. There’s something wrong. Really wrong. And I don’t know how I’m supposed to help him if he can’t even tell me about it.”  

Because that’s what Steve had said. Not that he didn’t want to tell Eddie. That he couldn’t tell Eddie.

That Eddie wouldn’t have even believed him if he could.  

Which was insane, because Eddie was pretty sure Steve could say that he had seen the second coming of Christ, and Eddie would believe him. Steve could tell him that aliens existed, and Eddie would believe him. Steve could even spout off about characters from Dungeons and Dragons coming to life and dragging him on a quest and- 

Well, Eddie wasn’t sure he would totally believe that, but he would definitely listen at the very least! 

Steve wasn’t even giving him a chance to prove him wrong. He was just locking this all inside, holding it and bottling it and expecting it to go away when it wouldn’t. Eddie had been there, and he knew that trying to force something down only made it come up even worse later on. 

“Eddie,” Wayne said with a sigh, instantly putting his nephew on edge. It was a sigh Eddie knew well- the one Wayne gave when he wanted to tell him something that he knew that Eddie wasn’t going to want to hear. 

“You can’t help him if he ain’t ready to be helped.” 

Wayne’s hesitation there was right. Eddie definitely didn’t want to hear that. 

“That is such bullshit-“ 

“Kiddo,” Wayne said, cutting Eddie’s rant off before it could even really start with just one word. 

Eddie’s jaw shut with a snap, and he dragged a sharp breath in, looking at Wayne with wide eyes, trying to silently convey exactly why he was wrong. 

His uncle’s tough exterior melted away, and a gentle sympathy took over. If it was anyone else, Eddie would have bristled, gotten angry, pushed them away. On anyone else, that look would be 

pity. 

With Wayne, it was just kindness.

“Is it just the fact that you have feelings for this boy that’s makin’ you so damn persistent?” Wayne asked in a soft tone. 

Eddie instantly reared back, a surprised laugh bursting out of him. 

“No, Wayne I used to have a crush on him,” Eddie stressed, trying to make Wayne understand. “Back when we were younger. Years ago! It’s gone now.” 

“Eds,” Wayne said in a no-nonsense tone, “be serious.” 

“I am,” Eddie retorted, a heavy blush staining his cheeks as his heart hammered in his chest. “I don’t have a crush on him anymore. I don’t. I can care about my friends without it being a gay thing, so just drop it!” 

“Eddie, I’ll drop it if you can look me in the eye right now and tell me you don’t have any feelings for that boy,” Wayne challenged, keeping his cool as he crossed his arms and leaned back against the cushions, waiting. 

“Well that’s stupid, Wayne. Of course I have feelings for him,” Eddie sneered. He got up and began to pace, unable to hold it all in anymore as he continued to rant. 

“I care about him like I care about all my friends. It’s not like he’s nothing to me, but he’s just a friend, that’s all. I just think that it’s really cool that he was brave enough to join our group, and it’s sweet that he’s trying so hard. He isn’t half-assing it, and he doesn’t half-ass anything! Steve puts his whole self into everything he does and everyone he cares about, and caring that much is such an easy way to get hurt, but it’s like he’s not even worried! I mean, you should see the way he is with the kids! We’re just friends, that’s all, and that’s fine. I don’t need it to be anything more. I don’t want it to be anything more. Look we have a few stupid inside jokes, and some moments, but that doesn’t mean anything. It’s not like I love him, I just-“

Eddie cut himself off, taking a sharp shaking breath in as the reality of it all came crashing down on his head. He took a stumbling step backward, trying to breathe as he staggered back to the couch and fell down into his seat. 

“Fuck,” Eddie whispered, burying his face in his hands, the lump in his throat constricting his breath as his eyes burned. “Fuck.”

A warm hand fell between his shoulder blades, and Eddie blindly tipped on his side, letting Wayne’s arm curl around him as he burrowed into his uncle’s side. 

“It’s alright,” Wayne murmured, rubbing his thumb against the side of Eddie’s head as his nephew tried to catch his breath. “It’s not wrong for you to feel the way you do. It’s not somethin’ you can control. It’s not a bad thing.”  

“I know,” Eddie croaked out, hating the way he kind of didn’t believe the words. 

This wasn’t his first crush, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Eddie had always known who he was, and he had never pretended to be anything else. He wasn’t ashamed, but he couldn’t help the fear that still lived inside. 

That fear… it was terrifying, and painful. He hated being scared of himself, but he still was. Eddie was scared of the way people would look at him, scared of the way the world would treat him if they knew for a fact instead of just assuming. Scared of the way things would change. 

Scared of the way Steve would probably hate him if he ever figured it out. 

Steve. That’s what this was all about. It wasn’t about how Eddie felt. Tonight was about Steve, and how worried Eddie was for him. 

“Okay but even if I am attracted to him, that’s not why I want to help him,” Eddie said, carefully pulling away from Wayne’s grip and rubbing at his dry cheeks. No tears had ever come, but Eddie did it anyway, just to be sure. 

“Then why?” Wayne asked, genuinely curious. 

Why? 

“Why are you being so nice to me?” 

Eddie looked up at the other boy, furrowing his brow. 

“Why not?” Eddie said with a shrug, going back to his notebook. He was scratching out another tik-tac-toe board to add to the dozens that were already on the page. 

“People aren’t just nice,” The boy insisted, giving Eddie a guarded look. “They always want something.” 

“I want to make this afternoon a little less unbearable, and I want to make you feel better.” Eddie offered, quirking his head to the side and offering the pen to the other boy. “Is that enough?” 

They stared at each other for a long second, until the other boy’s face broke into an incredulous smile and he ducked his head down. 

“You’re really weird,” He said with a soft laugh, taking the pen. It was a lovely sound, like birds singing in the morning, or the first soft strum of a guitar as practice began. 

Eddie needed to hear it again.

“He needed me,” Eddie said softly, lost somewhere in between now and the memory. “Still does. I think.” 

Did Steve need him? Eddie wasn’t sure. All he knew was Steve needed someone and Eddie was the one who knew it. 

“Then be there for him,” Wayne suggested, patting Eddie twice on the back as he stood and walked over to his bed, beginning to pull it out, “You don’t need to know why he needs help to support. Sometimes all someone needs is someone to be there.”

“You’re right,” Eddie replied, sensing the end of the conversation coming. Exhaustion was tugging on his eyelids, and Wayne was beginning to yawn,. “I just wish I could do more.”

“I think you’re doin’ more than you realize,” Wayne offered, settling on the side of his bed and stretching. 

“Thanks Wayne,” Eddie sighed, turning and heading towards his room. 

“Is there anything else on your mind?” Wayne said from behind, stopping Eddie in his tracks. “Feels like you might’ve left something out.” 

Eddie paused, feeling like a mouse caught in a trap. He knew that if Wayne could see his face, he would’ve been done for, but just with his back, there wasn’t enough to prove he was right. 

Briefly, Eddie wondered if Wayne was a psychic, or had some sort of power to know when Eddie was keeping a secret. It felt like there was a big yellow sign above his head, shouting that he needed his uncle to help him before it was too late. 

I think I’m doing the wrong thing, Eddie thought, desperately working his throat, trying to force the words out, I think I’m doing something mean, and it’s going to end up hurting Steve. Badly. I’m doing the wrong thing, and I don’t know how to stop it before he gets hurt.

“No,” Eddie whispered, hating himself for the lie, “there’s nothing else.” 

Taglist: @paopaupaus @zerokrox-blog @surferboyzaza @whatever-is-a-good-name @minjintea @addelyin @5ammi90 @hagbaby420 @shinekocreator @bornonthesavage @starxlark @electrick-marionnett @resident-gay-bitch @ash-a-confused-enby @classicdinosaurdeathpose @valon-whomsttf @rotten-lil-goblin @thereindeerlady @love-ya-kash @kerlypride @sparkle-fiend @thefreakandthehair @flowercrowngods @milf-harrington @sadcanadianwinter @gothbat99 @hotcocoaharrington @henderdads @lightwoodbanethings @colorful565 @h0n3y-dw @craterbbox @sourw0lfs @lesliiieeeee @bidisastersworld @tinynebula @ravnlinn @bonescaro @mexmatch @cottagecoredreams @joruni @hellykelly @maegan1116 @farewell-wanderlvst @desertfern @due-to-the-fact-that-im-a-slut @anythingforourmoonyedits @eerielake @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @sidekick-hero

[thisisarcanereverie]

Welcome to Westview

AN: Happy Halloween yall!

Series Masterlist

Mcu Masterlist

Warnings: angst, slight ooc, 1980's au

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The night before went smoothly after that, once you gathered the necessary cleaning supplies you decided that it was too late in the day to actually cook anything, plus traveling and moving in took a lot out of you already so you ordered take out. Nothing too crazy, just a typical pizza from the local pizzeria and a bottle of water to wash it down. In a couple of days you’ll start your job as the replacement History teacher at the school, so until then you’ve got plenty to keep you busy. From shopping for your new home to social calls. 

You woke up to the sunlight beaming directly onto your face, forcing you to wake all too soon for your liking. You silently noted that the third to last step creaked as you descended the stairs, you’ll probably have to pick up a few “how to” manuals from the library in order to fix it. You were about to enter the kitchen when you almost face palmed yourself, right, you didn’t buy any groceries yesterday and even if you had, you didn’t have a kettle or coffee pot. Groaning you trudged your way back upstairs to get dressed to get breakfast, kettle and coffee pot, the first two appliances you’ll buy for the kitchen. 

After pulling on a sweater and pairing it with high waisted jeans and shoes you once again go outside to walk into town.  

The heart of Westview wasn’t at all far from where your little home sat in the cul de sac, and from the few people bustling about, you were not the only early riser this morning. Stores were beginning to open and you find yourself wondering if the Westview Gazette had opened its doors as well. You decide to briefly check as you make your way to the diner for breakfast. 

You quietly enjoyed the peace and relative quiet that the morning brought, the air was cool but slowly warming up and a light breeze occasionally blew. Puddles from the rain yesterday were still there, though smaller now than before. As you pass the main street across from the Gazebo you could already see through the window pane that Loki was already awake and working. You made note of this as you walked into the diner. 

You ordered two teas and a breakfast sandwich to go and promptly made your way to the Westview Gazette. You felt your heart beat a little faster as you approached the door, ‘was this stupid?’ you silently asked yourself though you weren’t sure how it could be. If anyone else had asked you if it was stupid to bring someone tea as a ‘thank you’ you would tell them no…and yet when it applies to you, it seems, you feel insecure in that stance. With a deep breath and a reassuring thought that this, indeed, was not stupid and walked in. 

The bell attached to the door rang as it opened, signaling your arrival. You took it all in, the dark wooden floors and desks, most had typewriters and papers arranged neatly beside, the newsroom itself was not very big but with the way it was arranged you would hardly notice the lack of space. 

“Janet,” you saw Loki come in from what you assume is his personal office, he had yet to look up from the various papers he was flipping through, “I’ve got some appointments today that I need you to cancel and a phone number to acquire while I–” 

“Hello,” You greet as he looked up and saw that you–in fact–were not Janet, “have I come at a bad time?” he stared for a second before clearing his throat, discarding the papers on the desk beside him. 

“No,” he says making his way over, “no not at all, sorry about that I thought you were–” 

“Janet,” you finished his sentence with a small chuckle, “sorry to disappoint.”

“Not at all,” he smiled, “so what brings you here?”

You hand him the to-go cup in your right hand, “I’ve come bearing a ‘thank you’ gift, for not murdering me and scattering my remains.” 

“Anytime,” he takes a sip, “tea?”

“Yeah,” you say suddenly worried that you got the wrong kind, “it’s just plain black tea from the diner, I wasn’t sure if you were a coffee or tea kind of person–if I got it wrong you can toss it out it’s fi–” 

“No no” he says, “it’s fine truly, it would be rude to throw away a gift.” 

“It isn’t if the gifter says so,” you argue. 

“It’s not how I was raised,” he says, taking another sip while glancing at the clock before returning his eyes back to you, “you’re up awfully early.” 

“I needed to get a few errands done,” you explain, taking a sip of your own tea, “after this I plan to check out this ad in the paper advertising this used car for sale, if it’s functional and still up for grabs I’ll head over there to get it today, if not I’ll just head over to the store and get some things I need like pots and pans and alike.” 

“Didn’t you bring those kinds of things with you while moving?”

“Just a skillet that’s been passed down in the family,” you shrug, “really the only things I brought with me were whatever was in the suitcases you helped me with and a few things I had moved here, like my bed and television.” 

“Not the sentimental type then,” he took another sip. Before you could ask what he meant by that, the ringing of the door's bell alerted you that other people were starting to clock in.

“Well I’ll leave you to it,” you said, “again, thank you for the ride yesterday.” you were about to walk out the door when Loki stopped you.

“Yes?” You asked, his expression unreadable until he cleared his throat and a sort of friendly look came onto his face. He grabbed a small card from inside his jacket pocket and handed it to you. 

“If you need another ride somewhere–or just to chat, my number is on the card,” he says before retracting his hand, “anyways, I’ll see you around then.”

“Thanks,” you pocketed the card carefully, “I’ll see you around.” and with that you finally left, sipping what’s left of your tea before tossing it into the closest garbage bin. You can’t contain the smile on your lips as you think to yourself how hopeful this was. Not just one, but two people have already given you their numbers and you already have a social call to make today with a prospective friend. Not even 24 hours in and you’re already leaps and bounds beyond anything you were there. 

‘I’m doing it mom,’ you thought to yourself, ‘I finally found a place where I might belong.’ 

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You ended up eating at one of the benches at the park before you used the payphone to call the number on the ad. 120 for a 1974 hillman avenger, it wasn’t in the best condition, but you needed a car and where else were you going to get one for that price?

You drove home, happy that you finally have a vehicle so that you can finally get some serious shopping done, like all the things you’ll need from the hardware and appliance store as well as groceries. You liked walking, it was calming and provided some exercise, but there was a limit to how many bags you can physically carry. 

You pulled into your driveway and remembered the commitment you made the previous day with your new neighbor, Wanda. You looked at your watch and saw it was around the time that people normally ate lunch. You exited your car and made your way to her house. You remembered her pointing to the house with the red flowers in the front yard and the number 2800 on it. You noted how clean her yard looked and well looked after her small garden was, and as you approached the gateway you saw bits of lavender and rosemary planted there. You brush past it as you knock on her door, you wonder if you should’ve brought something as you hear rustling from behind the door before it opened revealing Wanda. Her curly hair held back in a low ponytail as a red bandana head scarf adorned her head as well, her high waisted jeans paired with a loosely buttoned white shirt. Now that you see her in brighter lighting, you see just how natural she looked, Wanda just naturally beamed beauty. 

“Hi,” you manage to get out, you see her smile subtly at you as she greets you back. 

“Hello there,” Wanda says as she stands in the doorway, leaning slightly against it. 

“Umm,” you clear your throat suddenly, a little nervous, “if your offer to chat still stands, do you want to grab some lunch with me?” you point over to where your car sat, “I just got the car today so I can drive.” You really hope you’re not coming across weird and are reassured as you see Wanda practically beam in excitement. 

“Absolutely,” Wanda beamed, grabbing her coat before closing the door behind her, “where are we headed?” 

“I was hoping you might make a suggestion,” you walked beside her, “I don’t really know where the best place to get lunch is.” 

“Then let’s head to this italian place over on Shepard,” Wanda decides as she rounds the car to the passenger seat, “most people head to Gem’s Diner around this time so it’ll probably be vacant for the most part.” You nodded as you entered the driver's side, almost matching the same energy as Wanda, and as you put your seatbelt on and started the engine, you started what you hoped to be many afternoon lunches with Wanda. 

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You followed Wanda’s directions and soon enough you end up at this Italian restaurant called ‘Ciao Bianchi’, but according to Wanda, everyone just calls it Ciao’s. It’s quaint but lovely, with red walls and the scent of spices in the air. Already you feel your mouth start to salivate at the thought of some freshly made food. You are sat quickly and order just as fast. 

“So,” Wanda starts as the waiter walks away with your meal ticket, her hands placed under her chin, “tell me about yourself, why did you move to Westview?”

“Oh you know,” you say casually, “a new start and a new life, what about you? You said yesterday you moved here a few years ago.”

“Same thing,” She says, sighing deeply, “I wanted a new life, a new start. I wanted to give my boys something I never had.” 

“Which was?”

“A home.” You could tell she didn’t mean to let that slip as she covers her mouth and her eyes widen, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to get so dark there.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” you assured, offering a smile, “so were you in the foster system or did you just move around a lot?”

“Yeah,” she nods, “me and my brother Pietro, we went in the system after our parents died and we didn’t come out until we were of age.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say automatically, “that must’ve been rough.”

“Occasionally,” she smiles sadly, “at least we didn’t get separated.” 

“So,” you say, “tell me about your brother.”

“Twin,” she reveals, “he’s 12 minutes older, my son Tommy looks just like him, even inherited his mischievous nature.” you were gonna pressure her for further details when you saw a sad smile graced her lips, and decided to leave those details for another day. 

“And Tommy, is he also a twin or is your other boy younger?” 

“Twins,” she laughs lightly, “it runs in the family I guess” 

“Does it run in your husband's family as well?” There was a moment of silence after that, almost contemplative before Wanda spoke again. 

“No,” She said before continuing, “Vision was an only child, but when we found out we were having twins he had been ecstatic. I chose Tommy’s name while he chose Billy’s.” the past tense didn’t slip by you, and by the slight desperate look in her eyes you know already without her having to say, “he even had me time him to see how fast he could wrap a diaper on a baby doll. He would read Shakespeare and sing yakety yak to them, he was an amazing father.”

“I’m jealous,” you admit, playing with the napkin on the table, “it seems like he was a good man.”

“He was,” she smiled before clearing her throat as drinks were brought to the table, you both thanked the waiter, “well,” she started again taking a sip of her water, “what about you, what’s your family like?” 

You had hoped to keep the topic on her but you should’ve known better, after all, you were the newcomer. No one in this town knew anything about you, a mystery that you’re sure the more nosier neighbors want every detail of. 

“I didn’t necessarily grow up with a lot of family,” you said as you also took a sip of your drink, “it was just my mom and I for the majority of it, but she was wonderful. She was a nurse,” more or less, “and an amazing cook, she could make a five star meal out of basically nothing.” You see the gears behind Wanda’s eyes work as she also notices the past tense and bittersweet tone in your voice. 

“What about friends?” 

“I was a bit of a loner,” it was kind of the truth, “but I’m hoping that coming to Westview will change that.” 

“It already has,” Wanda smiled, grabbing her glass and raising it, “to new friends.”

“And new beginnings,” you follow suit, clinking the plastic cups together as you and Wanda chuckle softly at the silliness. 

“So how do you feel about sitcoms?” 

[luciawithoutj]

My internet is awful lately because I nearly used all of it on my vacation so sorry for not being that active and rebloging (literally fighting my demons trying to load any pic or gif or video).

Honestly don't know if someone said this before but I am so happy that Jokers are hiring fanartists for their new songs. Apparently they said today in some interwiew (didn't watch it yet because my internet shit so videos won't load) that they will release Bluza as next single before new album comes out (PLEASE PLEASE LET IT COME OUT IN AUGUST!).

Hopefully they continue hiring fanartists streak. Yall don't even understand how happy it makss me feel. When I saw Nico doing šbj cover and animation I think I screamed about him and his art and everything that happened to like every person in real life I talked to (and ofc i was annoying about it online while my internet was still alive and well). Hiring Nico is also makes me cry from happiness. First of all he deserves it so so much but also as a queer fanartist from balkans it makes me so happy and proud that this silly balkan band decided to hire trans fanartist for their song and gave him proper credit and also Bojan calling him a friend? My queer heart is singing and crying with joy.

Futhermore it makes me so happy they are finally recognizing how fucking talented this fandom is. I am so in awe with all beautiful and wonderful art I came across. I don't talk with so many people and fanartists because I am a bit shy but most of yall don't even understand how much yall inspired me to create. Since joining jo fandom I have been drawing and creating lot of different forms of art and experimentting and just having fun with art and falling in love with it again after being so burnet out last year and not being able to draw this much since 2019/2020 when I got into art. I am so so grateful for this amazing community and all amazing people I meet along the way <33333

With Bluza coming out I am wondering who might be next fanartist they hire. Ngl I hope it is Roxanne or they at least hire her to make some new merch because after putting all her being and all her blood in making so many amazing and breathtaking art and design work, she deserves to be hired. Also her art style might fit the vibe of the song.

So sorry if what I said didn't make any sense. I just love fanartists and joker out and joker out fandom and art and just yapping about all of it and my brain is a mess lmao

[persphonesorchid]

Mark Of The Arcane || Chapter Five ||

↣ Summary; Centuries before, in the times of the ancient Kings, a prophecy was heard. When the three kingdoms of Valerem fall to ruins, their saviour would come in blinding starlight. Who is this saviour, you may ask? None other than Min Yoongi, who was too busy being late to work to realize he definitely wasn’t on earth anymore.

↣ Part: Chapter Five: Yoongi vs The Force

↣Word count: 7.4k

↣Warnings: Namjoon scares the shit out of everyone, Seokjin is uh...mean...(but he'll get better soon!) Mention of off-screen character death. I think that's all! :)

Chapter Archive | Masterlist

Notes: Okay so this took forever, i'm so sorry! But I'm back with a new chapter! Lots happening here! And Tae's here :)) I hope you guys enjoy it despite the wait! Please don't hesitate to let me know what you think!! Love yall ❤️

You follow behind your father’s guard, watching the way his cloak sways with his steps. You’re a little worried about leaving Yoongi with Seokjin, you’re aware that he isn’t very fond of him, whatever his reasons for that are. You just hope they’d get along well and long enough for you to meet with your father and return. 

“Do you know why my father sent for me?” You ask, your voice bouncing along the walls as you enter a stairwell. The guard’s steps are soundless as he takes them, and it reminds you of the skill it must take for them to protect the king. 

The guard glances back at you as he places his palm on a mahogany door and pushes, letting you go through it first. “I don’t, Highness. Though, it may have something to do with the festival.” 

You smile at the lisp in his words, the edge taken off him and softens his visage to you. The King’s guards are known for their stoicism and the fierceness in which they protect the king, but there are little things that remind you that they’re just people.

You nod as he resumes his pace in front of you. “Would your mother be attending?” 

“She never misses it, Highness.” You could see the lift of his cheeks under his mask and the way his eyes squished, his gaze soft in the morning light. 

You’re surprised your father hadn’t called on you earlier to discuss the festival, with it being your turn this year to do the rites. The Arcane Awakening Festival was an annual celebration of the royal family’s heritage and The First of their wielding, Incra. There was so much to do in the coming weeks, but so much has been happening beyond the walls of your kingdom you’ve hardly been able to focus on it. You hardly think it’s time to have a celebration in the first place. 

The buzz may have died down about the siege of Daasir, folks moving on as though people hadn’t been killed and had their livelihoods disrupted, but you remember. You suppose, because it has nothing to do with them, it was easy to let it slip from their minds. Daasir was a good day away, but regardless, on the doorstep of your kingdom. They deserve as much courtesy as any other folk that reside in the capital. 

Your father knew of it, and you’re pretty certain the other kingdoms know of it as well. Something was brewing and it wasn’t at all a good thing. 

You enter the King’s Hall, tapestries of navy blue and silver line the walls and run along the floor in a thick rug. Your escort stops at the entrance, opening the door for you one last time. 

“Thank you, Yeosang.” You say politely, dipping your head in a little nod, which he returns quietly. The door shuts behind you and you walk quickly up the hall towards your father’s chambers. You remember as a child you would chase the sun spots here, they shine down through the windows in the high walls, bright and warm. 

Your father’s quarters were on the opposite side of the castle, an unnecessary way away from the throne room in the main part of the castle, and as you’ve complained as a child, too far from yours. Sometimes, you could go days without ever seeing your father’s face, as when he’s too busy, he would take his meals in his chambers. Most of his official business happens in the Court of Houses, where he handles the political things that come with running a kingdom. When he’s not too busy, you would sometimes have breakfast with him in the private dining hall.

The last time you saw him was the night you had dinner in the hall and told him of Yoongi.

You stop at his door and knock gently and only enter when his voice calls. 

Your father looks tired. There’s a darkness under his eyes that wasn’t there the last time you saw him, and you’re pretty certain he’s gone more grey in his beard and the streaks of his hair. 

The King’s quarters consists of three rooms. The main room in the entrance, which acts as an office when meeting with official people unofficially. The large window directly behind him sprinkles his visage in a soft morning glow, the sun isn’t yet on that side of the castle to let the light in. There are shelves of books and tomes and things he’s never let you get close to, and the large table he keeps his things on in a state of organized chaos. 

Behind a door between the bookshelves are his bedroom, and beyond that, a room you’ve never been allowed to enter. Your father barely looks up from what he’s reading, a feathered quill in his left hand as he scribbles away onto another piece of parchment. 

You would like to think that the shadows of his face come from thinking too hard, looking for solutions to stop the war that is likely brewing on your doorstep. Of course, crime isn’t non-existent, it happens, it’s always no more than a man avoiding his taxes or something miniscule. Never on that scale, never something like that. 

Yoongi’s arrival should have spurred some kind of worry in your father at least, but when you told him how he’d ended up here and his arcane, he’d simply stared at you blankly, like he was suddenly somewhere else.

You stand quietly and wait until he’s done, eyes roaming over the portrait of your mother that’s hung on the wall. Despite its position and years of taking in the sun, the colours remain vibrant: the blue of her dress and the accents of it in her jewelry, the gentle smile on her lips. A much younger version of your father stands next to her, a hand on her shoulder and the other behind his back, dressed in his regency. He stands tall and the worries of a king had not yet seeped into his visage.

The King finally raises his olive eyes to meet yours, a gentle smile lifting his bearded cheeks. 

“Ah, Dearest.” He pushes back his chair to stand, rounding the table to take your hand and give it a light squeeze. “Have you had breakfast?” 

Admittedly, you hadn’t. Too excited to meet with Yoongi and show him around this morning, so you shake your head and your father frowns a bit. “That won’t do, little gale.”

You smile fondly at the nickname, and your father links his arm with yours and leads you out of his quarters and back down the hall. Yeosang opens the door before you both reach it, letting you both pass through before bowing at the waist in greeting. Back down the short twirl of stairs and up the hall towards the main part of the castle.

You cast a glance back down the hall where you’d left Yoongi and Seokjin earlier, but follow on towards the private dining room with your father.

“How is the boy?” 

The question startles you, not expecting anything but talk of the festival from him.

“He’s alright. Adjusting.” You answer and your father hums and says nothing more of it. He releases your arm to push the door open, a hand against your back gently ushering you in. The table is already laden with food and drink, and you take a seat as your father pulls a chair out for you. It’s quiet as you both set your plates, you help yourself to scrambled eggs and crispy toast glazed in honey and two sweet eclipse berry tarts – ignoring the disapproving look from your father.

Your father fills his plate with sandwiches, thickly sliced meat spilling out of it, and you giggle softly at the boyish way he stuffs nearly half of it into his mouth. He chews slowly and you wonder if he’s getting it all with the big bite he took, he passes you a meat pie and a steaming cup of tea.

You couldn’t nearly have a go at everything on the table, even if the spread today looks to be most of your favorites. At least, you know that it wouldn’t be wasted, anything uneaten would go back to the kitchens and be divided among the servants if they wanted it. You eat quietly, and you’re licking honey glaze off your finger when your father clears his throat and sets his tea down.

“Y/n, we have quite a bit to discuss.” He purses his lips at you trying to catch the honey sliding into your palm from the toast and you’re reminded of yourself and set the toast down. He narrows his eyes just a bit, though you could see the amusement in his eyes. “The festival approaches, you’re preparing to do the rites this year, aren’t you?”

“Yes Father.”

Your father nods sagely, and you know secretly he’s happy he doesn’t have to do it.

Preparing for the rites is mostly you meeting with the elder scholars and going over what must be said and how it must be said on the night of the festival, as well as learning a special stepped dance that you must do before saying anything at all. It’s quite tedious.

 “There is a chance that Lady Aurelia would be here as well – small chance – but we should be prepared for it nonetheless.” You nod along, dusting the flakes of the tart off your fingers, “Lumina is far away, if she does come for the festival , she would likely be here a day or two before it.”

Everyone is usually invited to the festival, though, you’ve never seen the Queen of the pixies in attendance.

As the King goes off into listing protocols for the day, you cut him off as politely as you can. As much as you’d love to sit and discuss it, the festival is some good weeks away, near a month, and there are more pressing things that could be talked about right now. “Father...”

“Yes?” He pauses, brows raised.

“About what happened at Daasir...”

Your father’s eyes darken, “What happened isn’t any concern of yours.”

“Father, it’s my concern as much as it is any one else’s. They’re my people too.” You fire back and watch as all your father’s patience drain out of him with the sigh he lets out. The hand on the table visible to you curls around the thumb, and he looks away, staring off into space for a moment. With him quiet, you continue on.

“I don’t understand why you’re trying to sweep it under the rug and act like it never happened. People have died, the prophecy is unfolding and you’re worried about the festival --!”

 “Y/n!” Your father’s fist comes down on the table, rattling the dishes and rendering you silent. “Enough.”

A muscle under your eye twitches, and you fight the urge to defy him. So you sit and stew in your anger, holding his hardened gaze with your own.

“It does not concern you. I will not be having this conversation again.” He stares you down until you break his gaze, turning your head to stare across the room. “Continue your preparations for the festival. Am I understood?” 

“Yes, Your Majesty.” You say softly, and it’s quiet for a moment. You know he hates it when you use his title, but you’re angry at the way it’s so easy for him to toss urgent matters aside. “Am I dismissed?” 

He doesn’t answer and when you turn he’s already staring at you, looking fed up with your antics for the morning, but there’s something sad in his eyes that you’ll feel guilty for later. Perhaps when you’re older you’ll understand his plight as a King and father, but for now, you repeat your question and he sighs, waving a hand at you. You push your chair back, not bothering to tuck it back under the table before walking swiftly out of the room.

You walk down the hallway, grumbling to yourself all the way until you get through the little walkway that leads to the training courtyard. You go past the giant – ancient – oak tree near the entrance and round the wall just in time to Seokjin toss Yoongi over his shoulder. 

“Do you know how to hold a sword?” Seokjin asks as Yoongi follows him out into the blinding sunlight in the open courtyard. It seems to be a private training ground with nothing but the thick cobblestone wall that runs along the perimeter of the castle.

A large oak tree sits at the center, it’s really an odd thing and Yoongi wasn’t expecting to see it there, the dirt it’s raised in is surrounded by large stones that have funny markings etched into them. Some roots peak out of the dirt, rising above the ground before it dips back under, and Yoongi wonders how far and deep they run. In the ground around it, there are cracks and little blades of grass prevailing through the stone. 

On one far side of the courtyard is a weapons rack, they look to be for training purposes only, made out of wood, some of which are freshly polished and some are worn by use. They ranged from long swords to short blades, staffs that lean in a bundle against the wall, lances and shields. 

The other is a space split into two, one with dummies made of straw and wood, battered and bruised by the weather and use. The other is a space marked out by painted lines that – to Yoongi – looks like a Pokémon battlefield. There are stone benches against the fall facing it, which are probably for spectating. 

Seokjin unclasps his cloak, the material loosening from his shoulders with a little click, and Yoongi feels something like fear shoot up from his legs. 

“What are you doing?” He asks, taking a half step back from the other man. 

Seokjin smiles in a way that doesn’t actually ease Yoongi, but sends a nervous laugh bubbling up his throat in response. 

Instead of answering his question, Seokjin folds his cloak neatly and sets it on one of the benches, and unstraps the buckle that holds his sword to his hip. “Can you hold a sword?”

“No?” While Yoongi can hold a knife, he can bet it’s an entirely different story holding a sword. 

Seokjin nods, a look that shows that he expected that, but at the same time is unimpressed by Yoongi’s lack of defensive capability. Yoongi feels slightly offended.

“You can throw a punch then, right?” Seokjin rolls the sleeves of his tunic up his arms, “Know how to defend yourself?”

Yoongi nods and before he could confirm with his voice, Seokjin is moving faster than he could see him. He stumbles a couple of steps back as Seokjin closes in, barely lifting his arm to block the swing of the other man’s fist. The force and surprise of it has Yoongi tripping over his own feet and falling back on his ass with a grunt.

Seokjin sighs, looking down his nose at him.

Yoongi glares, “The hell’s your problem?” His arm throbs, and no doubt it will bruise later.

“Do you think that because your being here was foretold, someone would be around to protect you?” Seokjin tilts his head, and the little flicker of hope that Yoongi had this morning that he could possibly be civil with the guy smoked out. “You know what your prophecy says, don’t you?”

Slowly, Yoongi gets to his feet, still glaring, jaw clenched as he nods.

“Good, then you know that things are less than ideal. Learning the workings of your arcane isn’t the only thing you need to learn.” Seokjin takes a couple of steps back, “Your arcane is volatile,  you need to learn how to protect yourself without it until you learn how to control it. Her Highness asked me to help you in that regard, so I need to assess you.” 

Yoongi knows he’s right, there are ways to do things, though. Like maybe telling him all that before he charges at him like a madman. 

“You’re quick to block, so that’s good.” Seokjin widens his stance and then waves a hand at Yoongi, “Hit me.” 

“Huh?” 

“You said you can throw a punch; hit me.” 

Yoongi’s no professional fighter, but he can hold his own if he needs to – not that he ever had the reason to. Seokjin is intimidating standing as he is, clearly more knowledgeable than he is in the art of defense and offense. Yoongi tries not to let it show that he knows he’s going to be getting his ass handed to him wrapped and tied with a bow every time, as he copies Seokjin’s stance. Legs shoulder width apart, one foot just slightly in front of the other, arms up. He doesn’t miss the quick glance Seokjin gives or the near quiet huff of a laugh through his nose. 

He swings a fist, and realizes his mistake afterwards, when all Seokjin has to do is lean slightly to the side with more grace than Yoongi believes he’d ever possess, and jab a swift hand at his ribs. It wasn’t hard enough to bruise, but it aches nonetheless, and Yoongi still staggers back.

Seokjin rights himself as Yoongi does, humming softly to himself in secret assessment. “Again.” 

Yoongi tries again, after getting a moment to remove his cloak, too, and the result is the same, and despite the little chuckle that feels condescending, Seokjin seems to be taking his task seriously. This goes on for a while, with Yoongi throwing punches and Seokjin expertly avoiding them, while no doubt making mental notes, and Yoongi is quickly growing frustrated.

By the time Yoongi’s had it up to here with being on the defense, he’s panting and the tunic he wears is sticking to his back uncomfortably. Seokjin hasn’t broken a sweat, looking like the definition of put together and composed and that’s entirely unfair. 

“Are you sure you know how to throw a punch? You’re not even standing correctly.” Seokjin points a slightly crooked finger at Yoongi’s feet.

Seokjin might as well be training Yoongi to consider him his enemy because when he looks down, Seokjin darts forward again. Yoongi dodges and swings, and Seokjin easily counters by grabbing his arm and using his momentum against him.

There’s a rush of wind in Yoongi’s ears, the world blurs and then he’s staring at the blue sky. He lays there, catching his breath that was knocked out of him – trying not to pass out – and there’s a small sound from across the yard.

“Seokjin!” You rush over and Yoongi could see Seokjin roll his eyes, your form blocks out the sun that’s climbed higher in the sky and it makes you glow. The light weaves its way through your hair and dances along the outline of you, and Yoongi feels like he could reach out and grab it.

“Are you okay?” You ask, and Yoongi’s sure he’s red in the cheeks and he could only offer a thumbs up. 

You straighten up, turning to Seokjin fiercely, “Jin what is wrong with y—”

“I was assessing his skill!” Seokjin defends quickly and you swat at his arm. 

“That’s not what I saw!”

“Why would I just attack him?” Seokjin points a whole hand at Yoongi, who now was just laying on the ground, staring up at the sky like his soul is minutes from leaving this plane. “I was clearly on the defense!”

Yeah, right...

Yoongi sits up and dusts off his hands and he tries not to glare at Seokjin when the man offers a hand to help him stand. In your presence, Seokjin’s mood made a full one-eighty, suddenly acting as what Yoongi assumes is his usual self.

Seokjin gives him a once over, “Regardless, when I’m done you won’t have to worry.”

Yoongi isn’t excited to know what that means.

Later, Yoongi sits on the stone bench, feeling the coolness of the stone seep through his trousers as he leans back against the wall behind him. The shade of the oak tree offers him a small refuge from the midday sun, the dappled light casting shifting patterns across his lap. A gentle breeze stirs the branches above, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and leaves, but even this moment of calm can’t fully ease the tension coiling in his chest.

“Sorry about Jin,” you murmur, sounding almost sheepish on Seokjin’s behalf. “He can be… intense.”

Yoongi’s eyes flicker toward you, his expression neutral, though inside, his thoughts churn. Intense barely scratches the surface. But instead of voicing his unease, he only nods. “It’s alright,” he says, his voice low and steady. He tells himself this is necessary. Seokjin is right, after all. If push comes to shove, he’d be helpless because he has no idea how to control his arcane. 

“I have to learn,” he adds quietly, almost as if he’s convincing himself.

You frown, your concern evident in the small crease between your brows. “Yes, but he doesn’t have to be such a brute about it,” you mutter, shaking your head. The irritation in your voice is clear, but Yoongi senses there’s more beneath your frustration. Your eyes flicker with something unspoken, but he doesn’t ask. He wonders what burdens weigh so heavily on a princess’s mind, but this isn’t the time for such questions.

Before the silence can stretch, Seokjin strides over, his cloak settled back over his broad shoulders, the fabric swaying with each step. He hands Yoongi his own cloak without a word, the gesture curt but not unkind.

The quiet is broken by the creak of the courtyard door opening, the sound echoing across the stone. A guard enters, his boots clicking sharply as he approaches. He stops a few paces away, bowing deeply at the waist.

“Your Highness, Prince Namjoon of Kadïr has arrived.”

Yoongi notices your brow furrow, the glance you share with Seokjin loaded with meaning, though it’s a conversation Yoongi is clearly not meant to understand. The door opens once more, and this time, another figure steps through.

The man who approaches exudes a calm, easy confidence. His steps are unhurried, yet there’s something purposeful in the way he carries himself. He’s dressed in deep shades of indigo and pearl white. His hair, dark and tousled, catches slightly in the breeze. There’s a smile playing on his lips—dimples forming as he greets you and Seokjin with familiarity; hugging you both.

Namjoon’s eyes turn to Yoongi and his smile falters, something flickering in his eyes.

“This is Namjoon,” You say softly, introducing him formally, “Prince of Kadïr.” 

“Don’t bow.” Namjoon says, raising a hand, his eyes crescent, and Yoongi hesitates, mid-motion, before straightening. Namjoon extends his hand instead, the same easy warmth returning to his expression. The breeze stirs again, warmer now, ruffling Namjoon’s hair as he waits for Yoongi to accept the handshake.

When Yoongi takes his hand, Namjoon’s grip is firm—steady, but as the handshake lingers, something shifts. The grip tightens, growing stronger, and then uncomfortably tight.

Yoongi frowns, instinctively pulling back, but Namjoon’s hand doesn’t let go. It’s as if the prince’s body has locked into place. Namjoon’s gaze, once focused and sharp, has gone distant. His eyes, a warm brown just moments ago, begin to cloud over, a milky hue spreading across his irises.

Namjoon’s grip was like iron. He isn’t sure what was happening—whether it was magic, or something far worse—but every second stretched unbearably. The warmth from the sun faded, the air around them growing thick. 

Yoongi’s heart pounds. Why isn’t anyone doing anything? Seokjin greeted the prince like an old friend, and you—you seemed comfortable enough. So why are you both just standing there?

A sharp whistle pierced the air, so loud it sent a ring through Yoongi’s ears, momentarily pulling his focus from Namjoon’s vice-like hold. Seokjin moves swiftly behind Namjoon wrapping an arm around his shoulders, supporting his weight just as his eyes roll back. Yoongi watched in horror as Namjoon’s body seemed to go slack, but his hand—God, his hand remained locked around Yoongi’s like a lifeline.

The sudden limpness of Namjoon’s body made Yoongi feel as though he were gripping a corpse. The eerie calm of the courtyard, once peaceful under the shade of the oak, now felt suffocating, almost mocking. Even the leaves overhead seemed to still, as if nature itself was holding its breath.

Yoongi’s gaze flicked over to you. Your expression is a mix of concern and fear that made his stomach twist. Whatever this was, it wasn’t normal.

Seokjin’s voice broke through the haze. “Yoongi, try to keep him upright,” he commanded, his voice steady but strained.

His legs felt weak as he shifted to try and help steady Namjoon, his hand still trapped in the prince’s vice-like grip. 

The prince’s eyes twitch behind his lids, his chest heaving in shallow breaths. Namjoon’s lips parted, but no sound escaped, only faint gasps, like he was drowning in air. Yoongi’s breath quickened in time with Namjoon’s, panic rising with each passing second. 

Suddenly, a dark figure swooped low across the courtyard—a flash of black feathers cutting through the tension. 

“Get Hoseok.” Seokjin calls, and his crow circles once, cawing before it darts off toward the castle, disappearing as it flies upwards and makes a sharp turn. 

“Hoseok will be here soon. Just hold him steady,” He mutters, as if the command would somehow ground Yoongi in this surreal moment.

Yoongi’s mind was a storm. He doesn’t know Namjoon, but the sight of him like this, slack and unresponsive, made his heart pound painfully in his chest. The world around him began to blur, the only sharp detail being the cold sweat forming on the back of his neck and the death grip on his hand.

“What’s wrong with him?” Yoongi finally found his voice, but it was shaky, laced with a fear he hadn’t intended to reveal.

“He’s having a vision, but…” Your voice was softer, edged with a confusion that only deepened Yoongi’s unease. “I’ve never seen it happen like this.”

Yoongi glanced at you, and the worry etched into your features struck him. You weren’t just concerned—you were frightened. That made it worse.

Time felt like it stretched on forever, the weight of Namjoon’s body growing heavier, his grip unwavering. Yoongi’s fingers began to tingle, and his palm was growing numb under the pressure. Then, finally—after what felt like an eternity—Namjoon’s hand slackened.

Yoongi almost falls backward, stumbling to catch himself as his hand is suddenly released, staring at the prince who now slumped entirely in Seokjin’s arms. Namjoon’s chest still rose and fell, but his face was ashen, a fine sheen of sweat glistening on his brow.

With a bit of effort, Seokjin moves him to the bench. 

“Namjoon?” you whispered, kneeling down beside him, your hand hovering over his pale face as if afraid to touch him. But Namjoon remained still, unconscious, his expression twisted as though whatever he’d seen was still gripping him, haunting him.

Yoongi rubs his sore hand, his heart still racing. He couldn’t shake the image of Namjoon’s clouded eyes, the way they’d rolled back, as if something had ripped him away from the present and hurled him into some nightmarish vision.

Hoseok comes barging through the doors not long after, white cloak billowing behind him with his hurried steps. 

“What happened?” He kneels beside the bench, checking over Namjoon with a calmness only a healer could manage. 

“Not sure, he was fine one minute, shook Yoongi’s hand the next and went rigid.” Seokjin explains. 

Hoseok nods quietly and reaches for a leather pouch at his hip. He rummages for a bit, and pulls out a small bottle with a wooden stopper. “Jin, hold him, please.” 

Seokjin gently shifts you out of the way, and you move to stand next to Yoongi, wringing your hands in bouts of worry. Seokjin puts his arm over Namjoon’s chest, and the stopper comes out with an audible pop. It must be some sort of smelling salts, because Namjoon’s eyes immediately pop open when Hoseok holds it under his nose. 

They’re brown again. 

Seokjin’s arms over his chest stopped him from springing up too wildly. He takes a deep breath and pats Seokjin’s hand before he sits up slowly. 

“Thank you, Hobi.” He says, and he waves a hand when you ask if he’s alright. “Fine, I’m fine.” 

He looks around, as though he’s not quite certain where he is and then sighs. Everyone is looking at him with the same tense, worried expressions. 

“I’m alright.” His eyes find Yoongi’s and he looks away, “Waking Vision.” 

“Has it ever happened before?” Hoseok asks, as he puts the stopper back into the bottle. “The entire servant’s quarters heard Igni cawing a storm.” 

From somewhere above in the oak tree, Seokjin’s crow let out what can only be described as an offended caw. 

Namjoon shakes his head, “No, this is the first. I don’t...” he falls silent and then shakes his head as if to rid it of thoughts. “Sorry about that, I must’ve scared you all.” 

“Namjoon is a seer.” You say softly to Yoongi, and then, gently take the hand that Namjoon had been holding tight to, “Does it hurt much?” 

“Not really.” Yoongi’s lying, he’s fairly certain something’s broken, if not badly bruised. There’s worry on your brow again, “I’m okay.” 

Namjoon shuffles a bit, pulling a small book and a pencil from the pocket of his trousers. Hoseok comes over to check Yoongi’s hand and tells him he’s fine, and you go back to berating Seokjin for earlier ⁠— much to his chagrin — and the air is a little easier to breathe. 

After a while, Namjoon is led away to his room, and Seokjin to his duties and then it’s just you and him. 

You’re telling him about the upcoming festival, walking beside him as he goes back to his room. You don’t seem all too excited about it, even as you’re smiling, it barely reaches your eyes. 

“I’ll tell Seokjin to take it easy on you.” You pat his arm, and then clap your hands together, stopping. “Oh! Esther would like to start by this afternoon if you’re feeling well enough.” 

Yoongi just faintly remembers the motherly older woman. He hasn’t had a headache all day, so he supposes he’s okay for now. 

“I unfortunately... wouldn’t be able to be there...” You say, but grumble something else under your breath, shaking your head, “but you shouldn’t have to worry with Esther.” 

Yoongi nods, and looks down at his hands. He can only hope that it would be an easy thing to learn. He imagines that it’s easy for children here, as they are gifted from birth. It’s like being taken off the streets and put into a classroom with no prior education. 

“Okay.” 

After lunch, when the sun was at it’s peak, and Yoongi had just finished filling his tummy with braised fish, white rice and some sort of sweet fruit, Esther came knocking. 

She leads him down to the servant’s quarters and then through a door that leads to the back of the castle. It’s a wide open space, off to one side is a couple of posts with lines strung between them, a young man throwing white cotton sheets onto them. A gaggle of children kick around a ball, darting between the clotheslines and other adults. One of the boys laughs mischievously, and out of his hands spews an arch of water, the other children squeal as they avoid it. 

Within a fenced area, two women kneel, one with her hands in soft, upturned soil, and the other grinding something in a mortar. They chat softly, laughing to themselves. There’s sprouts of different vegetables, and small herb plants coming out of the dirt. 

Under the shade a small pergola, two older men teach a small group of kids how to weave a basket. They show them a simple way that their little hands can manage, and Yoongi’s heart goes out to the little girl who looks like a fish out of water. 

Everyone greets Esther as she passes by. 

They go through a wooden gate and beyond the wall is a field of wild grass and a forest edge in the distance. There’s a well trodden path that Yoongi follows Esther down, letting the tall grass slide through his fingers. 

There’s a clearing, barely any grass in the spot, and Esther tells Yoongi to sit. He sits cross legged and she does the same, smiling gently at him. 

“Her Highness told me your circumstances, so firstly, we’ll focus on feeling your arcane first.” Esther says, “Close your eyes and take a deep breath in.” 

Yoongi does as he’s told, letting the air expand in his chest, he listens carefully to what Esther says. 

“Our arcane magic is deeply rooted in nature, it is in us as much as it is around us. Feel that magic. Feel it in the air, the dirt beneath you, the warmth of the sun.” 

For a moment, Yoongi doesn’t feel what she’s talking about. He simply sits there, breathing, listening to her words. Listening to the wind rolling over the grass, the strange and somewhat familiar call of birds somewhere far off. The breeze that blows is a lot cooler than the sun’s rays, it sends goosebumps rippling up his arms when it dances by. The dirt beneath him is warm. 

And Yoongi will spend a lot of time this way. In the mornings he meets with Seokjin for combat training, and in the afternoons, Esther for glorified yoga. 

Neither of which is going well for him. Granted, Seokjin doesn’t randomly attack him to gauge his skill and for now focuses on his defensive fighting. Outside of his training, Seokjin is slowly becoming easier to be around. Yoongi would go as far as to say he was being nice most of the time. 

Esther assured him that the process of beginning to learn anything about controlling his arcane isn’t an easy one. The only result he’d seen since starting with her was that his headaches stopped completely and he didn’t need to see Hoseok anymore. 

It’s a week later when he starts improving. He’s sitting in the clearing, breathing the air, feeling the dirt, envisions himself as a filter as Esther had suggested one rainy afternoon. The magic around him flows in when he breathes, and circulates constantly. He has his ‘Lord of the Rings’ moment when he feels a slight tingle in his fingers.

“Esther?” Yoongi calls, eyes closed, and a furrow between his brow. His fingers are still a little sticky with honey residue from his earlier snack that Esther brought. He presses the tips of his fingers together, and then stretches them outward. “My fingers are tingling.” 

Esther is too silent, and Yoongi feels anxious enough that he peeks an eye open. He looks down at his hand and then excitedly back up at Esther. There, on the tips of his fingers are the tiniest specks of white light. They’re faint, barely there, but glowing. 

Esther claps her hands, the corners of her eyes crinkling with a proud smile. 

When Yoongi isn’t with Esther or Seokjin, he’s with you, in the library. 

The library was just as grand as he expected it to be; large glass windows and towering shelves filled with books. Although there isn’t much on his arcane, there’s a lot on arcanes in general. The books on ‘The Academic Study Of Arcana’ are huge dusty tomes that Yoongi is certain no one’s touched in a lifetime. 

The pages are delicate and he had a hard time trying to figure out how to turn them without damage. It took him days to get through the first section of the first book, which covers the ‘Historical Origins of Arcanes’ and he’s only scratched the surface of it. Necessary water he has to cross to further understand himself and this world he’s been apart of for the better half of a month.

You would sit next to him, silent as he studies, but would break things down for him in simple terms. He’s grateful for that. You’re away more than you’re present, stuck in your duties preparing for the festival. You would only be around for two hours if that many before you sadly slink away. But you’ve tried your best to be involved in Yoongi’s training. 

He’s met Taehyung officially, who is as eccentric as he is quiet. 

Through the tomes, Yoongi learned of Volatile Arcanes. Taehyung has the rare case of his magic intake is too much for his body to handle, and so, he wears a limiter. It’s a bracelet that sits snug on his wrist, made of silver and amethyst and imbued with pixie magic. Unfortunately, it only pulls some of the excess magic into itself, and it doesn’t stop Taehyung from being sick. 

Taehyung does have his good days, when he would sit and chat with Yoongi. He accidentally shocked him by poking his side to get his attention one day. Yoongi learned that day that Taehyung also wields a pure arcane. 

One day, the rain is pouring outside, pelting against the glass like bullets. The library looks dim, save for the lamps scattered around the place. 

Yoongi is sitting at the table, the tome he is reading is still open next to his hand, but he only feels sleep fogging his mind the longer it rains. You’re sitting next to him, cutting an apple into slices, and putting them onto a little plate, and Taehyung is having one of his better days. He looks brighter than Yoongi has seen him in a while, there’s colour to his cheeks as he talks animatedly. 

“Taehyung, you didn’t come see me this morning.” Hoseok’s voice travels from one section of the library, amongst the medical books. Yoongi can hear the frown. 

Taehyung sinks into his chair as though Hoseok could see him and he’s trying to disappear. Like a child scolded he mutters: “I was feeling okay today.” 

“Doesn’t mean you can skip your check-up.” Hoseok walks out from between the bookshelves. He sets the book he’s carrying down on the table, adding it to a growing pile. “Did you tell Jin the gems are cracking?” 

“I didn’t want to bother him...Daasir is really far, you know.” Taehyung grumbles. 

You slide the plate of apples over to him and  Yoongi shares a look with you as Hoseok looks stern. Taehyung clearly uses the apples as an excuse to not look at him, picking up a couple of slices to shove into his mouth with an over exaggerated hum.

“Taehyung...” He sighs, and then looks resigned, “I’ll let him know, and you can come see me later.” 

Taehyung hums non-committedly, and Hoseok purses his lips. He gathers up his books and says a curt goodbye, waddling out the library. 

You chuckle to yourself, “You know he’s scary when he gets mad, Tae.” 

Taehyung picks up another apple slice, nibbling into one corner with a shrug, his smile is adorably boxy, “He can’t stay mad at me, anyways.” 

The rain has finally held up, though it persists in soft, rhythmic drips from the ends of leaves and the sloped roofs of houses. The downpour has turned dirt paths into thick, clinging mud, and Ingrid carefully makes her way through Daasir, the sharp scent of wet earth and damp wood filling her nose.

She pauses on the edge of the dense forest, scanning for a path but finding none. Jimin is notoriously difficult to find. The forest itself seems to bend to his will, twisting and shifting to keep him hidden when he doesn’t want to be found. Even the trees appear to lean closer, their bark darkened with rain, their leaves trembling.

With a soft sigh, Ingrid steps over a large root. The forest’s chill seeps through her boots, and the overcast sky casts shadowed hues of green and gray, making it feel more like evening than midday. Daasir has yet to reclaim its luster, even though weeks have passed since the attack. The once-bustling town feels hollow; fewer merchants line the roads, and most businesses remain closed, their wooden signs hanging askew, darkened by rain.

It takes her a while to find the path—a fleeting trail that seems to vanish if she looks away for too long. Each step further blurs the sounds of Daasir behind her until all she can hear is the soft crunch of leaves, the squish of wet dirt beneath her boots and the occasional rustling of branches in the damp, dense air.

When she finally finds the elusive clearing, Jimin is there, his back turned as he tends to a patch of luminous blue plants that pulse faintly with magic. He doesn’t look surprised to see her, a flicker of amusement in his eyes as she approaches.

“Hello, Ingrid,” he greets, his voice light. She bows respectfully, noticing the slight twitch in his brow as he watches her. “How do you always find me so quickly?”

Ingrid chuckles softly, though a slight weariness lingers in her tone. “I’ve lived long enough; I know all of your tricks.”

Jimin hums, straightening and brushing dirt from his hands. The earthy smell clings to him, mingling with a faint sweetness—a fragrance of wild herbs and honey. He gestures toward the door, and she follows him inside. This time, there’s a warmth in the air, the faint crackle of logs in a hearth she suspects he’s neglected for hours.

He glides forward, pulling the door that leads to his workshop closed. She watches as he opens it again, the staircase within curling upward instead of down, an enchantment only he could manage. She follows, feeling the cool draft shift to warmth as they ascend, the wood beneath their feet creaking in a way that makes it feel alive.

“You’re like a witch out in this forest, Jimin,” she remarks, watching his wings twitch slightly, casting faint shadows on the walls. He laughs, the sound carrying a brightness that feels out of place in the dim space.

Once at the top, Ingrid slips off her shoes, unwilling to track the wet forest into a space that looks so intentionally tidy yet oddly untouched. She notices an armchair in the corner with its messily folded blanket and an empty one inches away against the wall.

Jimin’s wings buzz faintly as he moves into the kitchen, busying himself with washing his hands and then setting a kettle on a heating stone. The light scent of tea leaves fills the air as he pulls some confectioneries from a cupboard, each preserved with magic and glistening faintly with the spell’s residue.

“Well, I’m sure you didn’t come here for idle chat,” he murmurs, setting the kettle to boil. He places the small, glistening sweets on a plate and slides it across the counter, though he doesn’t quite meet her eyes.

Ingrid takes a seat in the armchair against the wall, feeling its warmth seep into her as if the forest chill has no place here. “Perceptive,” she says, watching him closely. “This is important.”

Jimin’s light-hearted expression dims, his gaze drifting to the window, where the leaves outside tremble in a gentle breeze. The whistle of the kettle cuts through the quiet as he moves to pour the tea, his movements slowing as she speaks.

“You know Rowan was killed in the attack,” she continues, each word drawing his attention, his jaw tightening. “And you know what they were looking for. The records are safer in Lumina, and you’re the only one who can—”

“Ingrid, I’ve told you before. I’m not going back.” Jimin’s voice cuts in, and he sets the cups down with a soft but unmistakable edge. His eyes flash, revealing a rare vulnerability.

“This is a matter of life and death, Jimin.” Ingrid’s voice lowers, her gaze unyielding. “You know they’re too valuable to leave in Kadïr. You’d be helping more people than you realize.” She leans forward, her eyes steady, as though daring him to meet her gaze.

He clenches his jaw, staring down at the tea, the scent now oddly bitter. Outside, the wind stirs the leaves, casting shifting shadows over his face. She can see the conflict in his eyes.

He walks over and places the steaming cup in her hands with a finality, the warmth of it contrasting with the coolness that settles between them. Whatever his reasons – he’s never told her, Jimin must understand. There are way bigger things afoot than his little game of runaway prince. 

Jimin swallows, his voice tight. “…Fine. I can have it arranged. But that’s as much as I will do.”

[Bold: can't tag]

Series tag: @mssukeyna @purest-expressionofgrief @i-dont-give-a-fok @xyahrinx @3sriracha @loveyoongles @studiosakuras @amon-rei @freyawreya

[marleyybluu]

Fight for You

Fezco x non race-coded OC

WC: 2.4k

Warnings: Mentions of blood, fighting, drinking, Nate getting his face rearranged, Nate being a dick, two shy people confessing their feelings aka my favourite trope, lmk if I missed any

A/N: This was not supposed to be longer than like 900 but whatever. Just tossing this to yall before we get to the good stuff, I literally just typed and didn't stop so if it's like not the best sorry lol I just wanted to write about Fez beating up Nate cus it was kinda hot.

Ella wasn't one for parties, she'd been like that since high school. The copious amount of drugs that her peers took and tried to convince her to take was why she had no interest in it. But, it was New Year's Eve and her friend Maddy had invited her to a house party, she agreed to attend but as she got ready the regret was settling in-- she'd just come home from work and she was exasperated, all she wanted to do was shower and slip under her covers but it'd been a while since she'd seen Maddy and the rest of the girls so she sucked up her feelings and got ready to participate. 

Her phone buzzed on the surface of her Vanity, floods of messages from the group chat that she'd respond to later but a message from a certain someone caught her eye. 

Fez💚: FaceTime?

She propped her phone up against the mirror and clicked his contact name and the video camera icon, the phone rang once before he was on her screen. 

"Hey, pretty lady." 

When people asked Ella what was the deal with her and Fez, she always said that they were friends which was the truth but she always felt like they could be more than that, hell sometimes he acted like he was more than that. Fez was a sweetheart, he was the first person to really interact with her when she was the new girl and she'd clung to him ever since, until she met Rue and then Maddy who introduced her to the rest. 

Fez wouldn't admit it but he liked Ella from the beginning, how easy she was to talk to and how comfortable she seemed to be around him. She wasn't doing hardcore drugs like everyone else, strung out in class half the time and when he dropped out she wasn't too hard on him. Though she reminded him every once in a while how he should go for his GED. She was a great support system in anything he did, she was encouraging and she was a beautiful person inside and out. 

Her nose would crinkle whenever she smiled, her brown eyes were so curious and inquisitive about everything, she was a never-ending supply of questions. He chuckled whenever he thought about the first time he got her to smoke, the flood of questions she asked like how did it taste? How did it feel? What was the difference between THC and CBD? 

All questions he was happy to answer while sharing his blunt with her. 

"What are you getting all dolled up for?" 

She shivered at his low, groggily voice. He always sounded like that but it became enunciated whenever he was fried. "The girls are going to this house party tonight, ring in the New Year or whatever." 

He scrunched up his nose, he knew her well enough and knew she didn't want to go for real. "And you're actually going?" 

She sighed putting down her makeup brush to pick up another. When Fez met Ella she didn't like makeup, mostly because she didn't know how to do it, but once Maddy taught her she was obsessed and it was like a hobby for her. He found a hobby in it himself-- watching her whenever she did it was enough entertainment for him, no matter how long it took and how often it'd make them late for things. 

"Yeah, I mean I'm tired but I already said yes. Plus, I know she'd come breaking down my door if I didn't." She softly laughed. "But you know," Ella cast her eyes to the screen giving him her full attention. "Maybe I'd have a better time if someone else would come with me." 

Fez groaned, he was just as antisocial as she was, he wasn't interested in parties unless he knew he'd make a profit. "Ella..." 

"Pleeeease? Come on, it's been a while since we hung out, I'm so busy with work and college. I miss you." She pouted. Fez playfully rolled his eyes, running his hand over his face to hide the shade of pink that was gradually growing on his freckled cheeks. He couldn't say no to her, he missed her too. 

"Fine." 

She clapped with joy. "Thank you, love you, I'll see you there." 

"Wha- hold on, I mean I need help picking out an outfit don't I?" He asked hoping to keep her on the line. She smiled and nodded. "Alright, go through your closet, O'Neil." 

-- --

Ella was a giggling, tipsy mess. Slinging her tattooed arm over Maddy's shoulder as they laughed together. She was stubborn to go to these things but once she was there she was okay. She turned her head to whisper to Maddy that she was going to the kitchen for another drink and Maddy asked her to get one for her while she ducked out to the bathroom. 

She agreed and took the two cups to the kitchen, on her way there someone gently wrapped their fingers around her arm. She looked to see that it was Fez and his brother Ashtray, she smiled knowing that Ashtray would be wherever good profit was and what a better night than a New Year's Eve house party.

"Hey, I was starting to think you wouldn't show up." She hiccuped trying to talk louder than the music. Ashtray nodded at her as a silent greeting and went off to the backyard. "Sorry, had to get some things." 

"No worries, you want a drink?" She asked. He declined, he was more of a smoker than a drinker. "Okay, well I gotta fill these up, I'll be back in a bit okay?" 

He nodded loosening his grip on her. She skipped over to the kitchen while he stood in the same spot waiting for her return. Ella grabbed a bottle of Titos and poured it for Maddy, once she was done she stared down the counter of various liquors passing over the ones she's drunk before and wanting to try a new one. 

"This one will get you fucked up... if that's what you want." A deep and familiar voice advised from behind her, his heat radiating onto her body. She turned to notice Maddy's, now ex-boyfriend, Nate. None of them were fans of this guy, he was the textbook definition of an asshole but she rarely ever commented on their relationship. 

She scowled. "I'm good." She reached over to grab a bottle of Green Apple Sour Puss and poured out the last of it into her cup. "You know, you're the prettiest out of all of Maddy's friends." He flirted. "Might be prettier than the girl herself." 

She wasn't interested in entertaining this, meanwhile, Fez was watching the interaction with flared nostrils. He already had beef with this guy for the shit he was doing to Rue and her friend Jules. But this might be the tip of the iceberg. He could see how visibly uncomfortable Ella was and how she looked like she couldn't escape. He took a step forward, about to squash this shit, until he saw Nate's firm grip on her wrist and the anger on his face. Whatever she said to him pissed him off. 

Ella tried to pull back but he had a good grip. "Aye!" Fez yelled. Gasps were heard through the crowd in the kitchen but not over him, it was over Ella throwing both drinks at Nate in order to break away from him. 

"Fuckin' bitch!" 

She ran as fast as her little heels could carry, she huffed past Fez and b-lined for the door to the backyard. Fez had half the mind to fuck Nate up right then and there but he knew checking in on Ella was more important. He hustled out the door to find her sitting by the pool, her heels already off and her feet inside the water swishing back and forth. He took his place beside her and nudged her with his shoulder, a quick smile appeared on her face. "You okay?" 

She nodded. "He's just being a little bitch that can't take no for an answer." 

"So, he was just being himself." 

She giggled, "Yeah, pretty much." 

Ella sighed looking up at the night sky and then back down at the water that was changing colours due to the lights installed. "Why can't all guys be like you?" 

Fez almost choked. "Wh-what do you mean?"

She faced him. "Like sweet, considerate, and funny. Mind their business. Not be a dick." 

He took his chance. "You think I'm sweet?" 

"Course I do... you say the sweetest things and do cute shit for me. And... and you're cute yourself." She cringed. "I don't know I sound stupid." 

He shook his head. "I think you're cute too." He confessed, "Gorgeous, actually, like I like looking at you." 

The two smiled and quickly looked away from each other like two shy kids. "You trynna smoke?" He asked breaking the awkwardness. "Always." 

-- --

After spending some time outside, smoking and laughing the two went back in after Ella said she was ready to call it a night and wanted to say goodbye to the girls. Her hand slipped out of his as she searched for them. He shoved his hands in his pockets while he waited for her, just scanning the crowd of degenerates having a good time with their drinks in their hands and drugs in their systems. 

His eyes landed on Nate's tall figure that almost towered everyone. He wasn't thinking much when he started to maneuver his way through the assemblage of bodies, even passing through the girls as they said their goodbyes. Ella had a keen eye on him as he approached Nate, this couldn't be good. He met up at a counter for more alcohol, grabbed an empty cup and the nearest bottle of Tito's, he began to pour and make light conversation. 

"Wassup man? Havin' a good time?" Fez asked with a devious plan in his eyes. 

Nate coughed. "Yeah," He simply responded. "Make any New Year's resolutions?" 

"No, you?" 

"A few." 

Nate wore that cocky and smug smile on his face like he always did, so conceited and wrapped up in himself thinking he was the most perfect person on this planet. In his own eyes, he could do no wrong. "Last time we talked, didn't you say you wanted to kill me?" 

Fez looked up at him with a deadpan look on his face, he raised his cup up at Nate. "It's a New Year, playboy." 

And suddenly the loud sound of glass breaking caused the whole room to stop. Cassie, one of Ella's friends, screamed and rushed over to the commotion. Fez was beating, scratch that, he was pummeling the fuck out of Nate's face. Both Maddy and Cassie along with a few other patrons screamed and squealed begging Fezco to ease up or stop completely of his abuse over Nate but Ella stood there in shock. 

She'd seen Fez angry before but never this angry, he was infuriated and used Nate as his punching bag. It wouldn't stop, hit after hit after hit. The scene caused the guests to scatter and pour themselves out of the house while a few stayed behind to see how far this would go. Nate's facial features were being rearranged, hidden by the now bloody mess that he was. 

Something about seeing Fez beat up Nate for whatever reason he had (either way it was deserved), made Ella's skin heat up, goosebumps forming on her skin at the sight of this strong ass man handing this spoiled bitch an ass whooping on a silver platter. 

"Ella! Do something! Get him off of Nate!" Cassie cried. Ella snapped out of her trance and rushed over to Fez, holding onto the arm that was delivering the blows. "Okay, Fez..." She said but it's like he had blacked out. "Fez... Fez! Sweetie, I think he's had enough!" 

He stopped, his chest quickly heaving up and down. He realized what he'd done and truthfully he didn't regret it. "We have to get the fuck out of here," Ella whispered pulling him up. The two rushed out of the house and into the car that Ashtray had already started once he saw the crowd file out. 

-- --

It was quiet. Ashtray was asleep on the couch, the television on the lowest volume with the bright screen illuminating the living room. 

Ella and Fez were in the kitchen, he sat on a stool with his bloody hand in his lap. She placed the rubbing alcohol and cotton pads on the counter with an ice pack fresh out of the freezer and a bandage to wrap around his hand when she was done. She sat across from him with her phone facing down and on Do Not Disturb so she wouldn't have to read all the negative shit they had to say about him. "Give me your hand." She softly spoke holding out her palm. He rested his hand on hers, his knuckles were stained with dried blood and a few bruises, possibly small cuts she couldn't see. She poured the alcohol on the cotton and gently pressed it on his skin. 

He hissed and squeezed his eyes shut. "Sorry." She mumbled. "It's okay." 

She cleaned his hand up as best as she could and tossed away the bloody evidence. "I didn't mean for you to see me like that. I don't want you to think I'm some fucked up hot head, but this guy had it coming... especially after he grabbed you like that." He explained. Ella half-smiled. "Thank you." 

"Always baby." 

After she had finished dressing his wounds, she put the items she found back where they were and turned off the tv, she grabbed a nearby blanket placed it over Ash's body and left him in the living room to continue his sleep. She wandered off to Fez's room closing the door behind her and switching off the light. "You gonna sleep in that dress?" He chuckled. "I mean I don't have anything." 

"Go through my closet, what's mine is yours." 

She smiled shyly and took him up on the offer. Ella found a shirt and a pair of boxers she could sleep in, she headed to the bathroom to change and came back, she hated sleeping in makeup but tonight would have to suffice. The bed dipped behind Fez as she joined his company, he reached behind him gripping her leg and swinging it over his body, she giggled pressing herself into his warm back. 

"You know imma always fight for you, right?" Fez grumbled drifting off to sleep. She nuzzled her nose between his shoulder blades. 

"I know." 

If you liked this fic, feel free to like it. comments, reblogs are appreciated. peace and love. see you in the next one✌🏾

🏷: @darqchilddaydreamz @skyesthebomb