#this is the ever book of mine i've held in my hands

[magpiefngrl]

I've just received the gorgeous bound book of my fic 9 ½ Days by the talented @creativelyunori and it's as beautiful as I imagined it would be. I particularly loved the chapter illustrations, the dried flowers at the end, and the road map cover. Thank you for sending me a copy and for the stickers and the kind note that came with it. I appreciate it 🩵🩵🩵

[kingkat12]

the same rain (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, fingering, semi-public sex(??), angst, smoking, foul language, Roman needs to get his act together omg

summary: after your date with Roman, you find yourself in a sea of questions-- will you drown or will you float?

word count: 8,347 (sorry not sorry)

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9

Long ago, back in middle school, I picked up a sentence from a book that etched itself into my mind; "It is the same rain that you loved that drowned you,"

Every minute of every day felt like I was drowning. Thoughts of Roman were continuously holding my head underwater, making it hard to breathe or function properly. Flashbacks to how his hands gripped my hips, the way it felt to have his lips move against mine with unmatched hunger, and his dizzyingly beautiful smile threatened to suffocate everything I was— had I been consumed?

Returning to school was hard, following my date with Roman this weekend. I could barely walk beside Letha without feeling like I was about to faint from the guilt, and I had to get away, just for a moment. So, I ended up in the library, bringing the book I had borrowed a few days ago. I closed my eyes as I leaned against a shelf in a desolate area, enjoying the peace and quiet. Here, Letha wasn't suspicious of me. Here, there were no prying eyes around, ready to bust me as the worst friend in the world.

However, Roman was here. I could sense that it was him before I had even opened my eyes because I could smell the specific cinnamon cigarettes he smoked. It didn't take long for my heart to start drumming in my chest, and I eventually dared to pry my eyes open.

Roman was standing a few steps away from me, holding out an open book in front of him as though he wasn't here to see me at all. It gave me the time to scan him once more; the way his hair hung over his eyes in soft waves, the way his hands were practically the same size as the book, and how he chewed on his lower lip as though he was deep in thought. When he realized that he had my attention, he slowly moved his gaze from the book and to me, his pupils immediately dilating no matter whether he wanted them to or not. However, in pure Roman fashion, he couldn't suppress his growing smirk; "Don't mind me," he said. "Just reading."

"I see..." I held back a giggle; "What are you reading?"

Roman turned the book with a swift flick of his wrist, as though I wouldn't be able to see him do it if he was quick enough. "Uh... It looks like I've picked up Pride and Prejudice,"

It was too late to suppress the snort that escaped me-- I immediately covered my mouth with my hand, watching as Roman's eyes widened, holding back a laugh as well. "Definitely the book for you," I said, trying to recover. "Just perfect. Liking it so far?"

The tension between us was palpable, especially since we weren't addressing what had happened this weekend. It was almost as though I could feel it wrap around me, clawing at my heart-- why was I so happy to see him, and why was it so damn hard to breathe?

All the air I was fighting to keep in my lungs seeped out the second I heard Roman's gorgeous laugh again, watching him smile the most genuine smile I had ever seen splayed out across his lips. "Nope," he said, putting the book away. "This looks like complete and utter shit."

I couldn't help but gasp; "You insult me. That book is a classic!"

"Yeah? Classic case of the snores,"

Groaning, I rolled my eyes as I turned away from him, hoping to suppress my smirk. "What are you doing here, Roman? Don't you have class?"

Roman shrugged, moving closer to me. I watched him lean against the shelf next to me through my peripheral view, holding my breath-- why was this such a thrill? "You're right," he said, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he scanned me in a rather obnoxious manner. "I just didn't feel like going. And then I saw you coming in here, so I just wanted to say hi."

I swallowed hard; he wanted to say hi? Roman wanted to... talk to me? Something about that concept was mind-boggling. This definitely wouldn't have happened a week ago. "You didn't call, y'know?" I said, daring to face him. 

"Call?" Roman's brows drew together, his green eyes shimmering as he crossed his arms over his chest. "You wanted me to call?"

"Well..." I immediately wanted to take it back-- why had I said that? Stupid! "I don't know, Roman, isn't that what guys usually do after... whatever it was that we did?"

He blinked a few times, biting down on his lips with a puzzled expression on his face. "Did what?"

Something about the way he was batting his lashes at me made me realize he was taking the piss, as always. I groaned, rolling my eyes as I stepped away from the shelf, turning my back to him as I walked to the one opposite us. There was no way in hell I'd adhere to his preferred outcome of this conversation, no way in hell I'd spell it out. "Nothing, Roman. Forget it,"

"Come on!" he said, stepping towards me with a chuckle. "Play along, will you? Just messing around." Roman's arm wrapped around my waist, pulling my back flush against him as he guided my hair to the side, leaning down to press a soft kiss against my neck. 

My brain nearly shut down at the feeling of his lips against my skin, but I knew I had to fight it. How would it look if I closed my eyes and let him do whatever he wanted to me right now? In public, again? I let out a squeak, the physical contact feeling like an active elective shock, and I pushed him away as he laughed. 

"You can't do that!" I huffed, trying to keep my voice low as I scoped out the area around us, making sure no one saw. As discreetly as I could, my eyes darted down for less than a second, checking whether he was hard again-- I couldn't shake the memory of how he'd gotten aroused after seeing me scared out of my mind this weekend. But I could let out a relieved sigh when I saw that he wasn't, and my cheeks flushed red with the realization that he had just kissed me. 

"Fine, alright!" Roman put his hands in the air, taking a step back as he continued to laugh. "So you wanted me to call, is that it?"

Shrugging, I did my best to hide the redness of my face by looking down at the floor. It was rather embarrassing that he knew that I wanted him to contact me-- I hoped he didn't think I was desperate, or something. "I didn't," I mumbled. "I didn't mean it like that."

"You didn't?"

"Nope,"

"Okay... Is this the sort of situation where you wanted me to want to call you?" Roman took a big breath, holding back another laugh. "You girls and your ways... If you wanted to fuck, you could've called me first, y'know?"

That was definitely not what I wanted. Not yet, at least. My eyes rounded out with the realization that Roman's motives were clearly not as gallant and pure as I had made them out to be in my head. "Go away," I mumbled, trying not to look too disappointed. "You know what I feel for you, and I don't need you to rub it in my face. Go to class."

Roman rolled his eyes, taking a step towards me. In my attempt to avoid him, I felt my back hit the shelf behind me, and I looked up at him with big, worried eyes as he cornered me. He pressed himself further up against me as he put his hand next to my head. "I'm not making fun of you. I'm dead serious,"

It felt as though my heart was thudding against his chest, trying to beat him away. "Dead serious about what?"

Roman shrugged, flashing his teeth in a rather sinister-looking smile before leaning down to whisper in my ear; "Call me if you want to,"

"Want to...?"

"To fuck," Roman pressed a kiss right next to my ear, which had my breath hitching. My hand flew up to his chest, ready to push him off of me, but it was as though my body refused to comply with my wishes.

"That's not--" I had to clear my throat before continuing, realizing my brain was threatening to shut down and become another one of his mindless girls. "That's not exactly what I had in mind..."

Roman pulled away from my cheek, nudging his nose against mine. "Tell me, then,"

Why was it so hard to keep a straight thought around this man? "Just... I don't know, is that all you want from me? Sex?" I had to swallow rather hard, letting out a shaky breath against him. Everything about this made my heart drop. 

"Well..." Roman paused, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "What more would you want from me?"

Looking up at him, meeting his green eyes, was too dangerous. I had to look away and try to discard the fluttering of my stomach at every single touch from him. It quickly became obvious that Roman probably didn't know how to handle anything deeper than just casual sex. Everything about it made me sigh; "Roman, I think you know very well what I want from you... And I think it's time for you to find out whether you want the same. Because if not, I need you to leave me alone," 

I put my hand on his chest, making way for me to leave. There wasn't much time to stare at the beautifully stunned expression on his face, wondering what on earth he had done wrong. 

All I knew was that we either did this my way or no way. 

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I had successfully made it to the next day, eyes a little puffier than before. My heart was practically in pieces after yesterday's conversation with Roman, wondering whether or not he would ever be interested in me the same way I was about him. After everything we had done together, I still hadn't gotten any confirmation from him that he reciprocated-- it made my whole body ache with a numbness I hadn't felt before. 

I was getting a little conscious about my puffy eyes, so I decided to put on the pair of sunglasses I had in my bag despite being inside the cafeteria.

Letha watched me, unable to hold back her giggles; "You look ridiculous. Take them off, please?"

"Stop it," I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest as I watched her finish her lunch. "I think I just had an allergic reaction to something." Lying to Letha again, even if it was something as small as this, made me feel more like a piece of shit than before. 

Everything about this situation made me feel horrible. I had put my friendship with Letha on the line, and for what? Some guy that didn't see me as anything more than a sex object? 

It seemed that I wasn't the best liar; Letha moved to the edge of her seat, scanning me with a worried look on her face; "Are you okay?" she tried, reaching out to touch my shoulder. "Maybe you're still sick from the weekend... Should I drive you home?"

This was killing me-- absolutely killing me. How was it possible for someone to be so sweet? "No, I'm fine! I promise," The kind look in Letha's green eyes was starting to feel like a drill into my skull, and I didn't know how long I could last with sneaking behind her back concerning my feelings for Roman. 

Eventually, Letha made peace with my glasses and odd behaviour, but I still couldn't shake the slight tremble in my legs; I was getting close to confessing, my guilt rising to the brink of my capacity. 

Even worse, was that the tremble didn't get any better later that day when I met Roman in an unusually empty stairway. Everything about it made me want to groan and evaporate-- just my luck. 

There were barely any people who used this part of the school, which was why I often took this way up to the second floor. It seemed like I wasn't the only one who had taken use of the desolate space; I watched as Roman sat on the banister further up, handing a guy a few dollars in exchange for some cigarettes. 

When Roman finally spotted me, I was sure I looked like the world's biggest idiot. It dawned on me that I was staring at him, completely frozen at the sight of his beauty, and I cleared my throat when I finally managed to look away. With shaky steps, I began to make my way up the stairs, hoping he'd let me walk by without making any jokes or mocking comments. Ideally, we wouldn't talk at all. But as I tried to pass him, Roman's hand easily reached out for my wrist, his fingers wrapping around my skin with the gentlest touch.

My breath hitched-- I turned to meet his green, green eyes, noticing that the dealer was gone. The only thing left was him, me, and the pack of cigarettes he had just bought. My eyes darted down to my arm, observing how big his hands were against my skin. 

"Did I say something wrong?" Roman eventually asked, an unintelligible emotion swimming in his eyes.

I shrugged, stunned that he was asking that question in the first place. "Why does it matter to you?"

"It doesn't," he said, not missing a beat. Despite his refusal to admit anything, Roman drew his other hand forth to trace circles in the palm of my hand, retracting back into his shell.

My eyes followed his movement, inhaling a shaky breath. What was he doing? Was I really putting my friendship on the line for this? "Roman, I can't be seen with you here--"

"There's no one here," Roman rolled his eyes, clearly not here to fight with me. His grip around my wrist tightened, almost as though he was afraid I'd leave again. "I'm not a fucking idiot, I wouldn't be doing this if I knew someone was watching. What's made you so paranoid?--" His trail of words stopped, eyes rounding out with some sort of realization. " You know what? I have an idea." Roman reached into his pocket, fishing out something silver, something sharp that practically shone beneath the bright lights of the school--

I let out a high-pitched scream, jumping away from him in all-taking panic. "No, no!--"

"Calm down!" Roman barked, holding out the needle over the hollow of the stairwell before dropping it down to the first floor. There wasn't much noise as it hit the ground, other than a high-pitched ringing that lasted for a few seconds.

I realized that I was practically hugging my body, ready to shield myself from any incoming needle attacks, and slowly unwinded my arms from around myself. Letting out the breath I had been holding, I watched Roman's hardening gaze meet mine. "Told you," he said, voice low. "Never wanted to, never planned to."

My eyes dropped to the floor, unable to meet his anymore. "Okay," By instinct, I reached for the sleeve of my sweater, ripping at it with my nails to keep my nerves in check. I hadn't expected to see him today, especially not here and now-- had he noticed my puffy eyes?

Roman sighed, reaching forward to guide me back towards him. "Stop that," he mumbled, grabbing my hands, keeping them separate. "You do that all the time, do you know that?" He nodded towards my sweater, squeezing my hands. 

I wondered if it had dawned on him that we were practically holding hands now. If he realized that he was being sweet with me, that he was acting as though he cared. Would it scare him if he knew? I couldn't be sure. All I could be sure of was that this was hurting me either way. With a sigh, I spoke up; "What are you doing?"

Roman's green eyes darted down to our hands, unable to meet my gaze. "I... don't know," 

"Of course you don't," Slowly, I pried my hands away from his, feeling my heart sink into my shoes. 

Watching me retreat, Roman opened his mouth to protest; he was ready to speak, but nothing came out. He stared at me with blank eyes for a few seconds, almost as though he had short-circuited. 

The air around us started to feel thicker, the tension growing without its needed release-- all until he finally said something; "Look, I don't know why, but you being mad at me is just really inconvenient right now, so... How do I make it up to you?"

It felt as if the air had gotten knocked out of me, and I stared at him in disbelief at his words; "... Inconvenient?"

"Yeah," Roman rolled his eyes, cursing under his breath. It was clear that he didn't know how to properly articulate what he was feeling, and that made everything furthermore frustrating. "I know that you said I have to figure out my feelings for you or whatnot, but I don't think I have any. So, for Letha's sake, I think we should make a truce or something."

"For... Letha's sake?" I had to suppress a laugh-- this was insane. "Since when have you cared about Letha's feelings? Was that before or after you blackmailed me into meeting you everywhere, and then kissed me?"

Not a beat passed before Roman raised his voice in protest; "You said I could! You said 'you can kiss me now if you want to', so I did!"

How was it possible for someone to be so confusing? I balled my fists in an attempt to control my exasperation; "Well, why the fuck did you then?! You say you have no feelings for me, and then you kiss me?--"

"Because I wanted to!" Roman yelled back, gripping the banister with a force that turned his knuckles white. "I've wanted to kiss you again ever since that time we played seven minutes in heaven, so excuse me for taking the opportunity!" 

It was immediately clear that he regretted saying that out loud-- his green eyes widened, his plush, pink lips parting in mortification.

However, Roman wasn't the only one that was caught off guard. I was quite sure that my heart had stopped, the ringing in my ears mixing in with the echo of his voice lingering in the empty stairwell. Realizing I had been holding my breath, the rest of it came out in a shaky exhale, my body stiffening with complete and utter shock. "Roman, I--"

"Please don't," His words came out barely more audible than a whisper as he hurried to get off the banister. "Forget I said that. I haven't had my nicotine this morning--"

"Roman!--"

"I don't usually deal with virgins, anyways," Roman mumbled, throwing his bag over his shoulder as he refused to meet my gaze. "Too much work. And you're kind of hard-maintenance." 

I couldn't even hold back my reaction to the further blow, letting my jaw fall. "Sorry, what? What is happening right now?"

He shrugged, a forced nonchalance about him as he dragged his fingers through his gelled hair. "Again, I'm not into you like that. And if I wanted a therapist, I would've hired one, right?" That seemed quite funny to him-- Roman's mouth curved up as he let out a nervous laugh, now watching my eyes hollow. 

This was probably the biggest whiplash of events I had ever experienced. Completely spellbound by his idiocy, I couldn't do anything other than stare at him. Was he really this clueless, and did he really think these things about me? 

I was very abruptly reminded of why I hated him in the first place. I was about to spew verbal acid at him but was interrupted by the door to the second floor swinging open. With quick steps, I moved away from Roman, glaring at him from afar as I hoped to spot a flash of regret.

But hence; nothing.

I realized that the group of boys at the door were Roman's friends, and they quickly spotted him as well. It didn't take long for him to wordlessly join them, bumping fists as they walked past me. Everything about it made me feel like a ghost-- what had just happened?

And why was I so heartbroken over this jerk?

I felt my heart drop, hiding my face in my hands the second I knew they couldn't see me. Everything about this situation was mortifying; Roman didn't have any feelings for me. I hadn't meant anything to him at all, and all of this back-and-forth had been for nothing.

I was ready to run to the bathroom and burst into tears, completely spent and exhausted, until I suddenly heard a conversation coming from beneath;

"Who was that?" 

"Who?" This was definitely Roman.

"That chick you were with?" 

Intrigued, I pulled myself together before carefully leaning over the banister, trying to get a good look at the gang of boys who were yet to make it all the way to the exit. 

"None of your concern," Roman said, giving in to a chuckle.

That wasn't satisfactory enough for the other guy, who proceeded to shrug; "She was cute, though. Do you have her number?"

Roman's eye twitched, his smirk faltering. Without even saying a word, he shoved the other guy rather harshly; "Drop it,"

I immediately stepped away, clasping a hand over my mouth as the rest of the guys laughed, finally leaving the stairwell. Letting out the breath I had been holding, I clutched my heart as my mind raced-- was I imagining things, or were Roman's words betraying his actions?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

"It is the same rain that you loved that drowned you,"

It was haunting me, at this point. Genuinely. 

All the feelings I had for Roman had nowhere to go anymore. For a week now, I had been like a ghost to him. The one thing I had learned about Roman, at the end of the day, was that he was very, very true to his word-- he definitely didn't like me. I could be very sure about this, now that he suddenly had a new cheerleader on his arm again, making it his twelfth. Everything about that made me want to puke; how could I have been so stupid as to believe Roman would feel differently about me? Was he actually the asshole he made himself out to be? Maybe it wasn't a coping mechanism-- maybe it really was just him? 

So, so many questions.

I could only watch him from afar on the bleachers, with Letha sitting next to me and revising her notes for an upcoming test. With a heavy heart, I watched as Roman leaned over to kiss the cheerleader's cheek, and I suddenly recognized the girl from my literature classes; Jessica. Fucking Jessica? Come on!

The sight was enough for me to crumble up my notes, not realizing what I was doing until Letha nudged me; "Uh... What are you doing?" she asked, her green eyes giving me a weird look. 

In an instant, I let go of the paper, accidentally letting it fall to the floor. "Sorry," I mumbled, bending down to pick it up. "I just didn't get much sleep. I'm spasming up." It was hard not to shudder-- lying to my best friend had become a habit, and there was nothing I hated more. 

Letha didn't seem to buy it, but she also didn't comment. Instead, she wrapped an arm around me, soothingly rubbing my back. "What's up with you these days?" she asked, concern coated in her soft voice. "What's bothering you? You can tell me anything, you know that?"

The soft cotton of her sweater, the kindness of her being-- my heart was actively breaking. I didn't deserve any of it. 

Everything felt so worthless at this point; especially while watching Roman's public display of affection to this girl that he barely even knew. Had he actually taken my romance tips and applied them to someone else? Asshole move number one. Eventually, I turned to Letha, a sense of anxiety washing over me as I realized what I was about to do; "Anything?"

My angel of a best friend only held me tighter, shooting me a kind, warm smile as she nodded. "Anything,"

"Okay..." It was getting hard to breathe-- was I really going through with this? My pulse quickened, my words coming out with a sliver of panic; "Please don't kill me, okay?"

Letha tucked a strand of her long, blonde hair behind her ear, worry filling her eyes. "Seriously, you're torturing me at this point, just say it," She squeezed my shoulders as she attempted a smile. Even in the most tense moments, she still tried to put me at ease.

There was no way I could back down now, and I wanted so badly to be done with it. To be done with the guilt, the shame, and the heartbreak. Just as I was about to speak up, it felt as though my mouth had dried up, and I was beyond breathless when I finally blurted it out; "Roman and I kissed at that party where we played seven minutes in heaven. And... another time after that."

Letha might as well have frozen over. There was no single movement whatsoever. Her arm remained wrapped around me as she stared at me with an empty look, eyes wider than I had ever seen them before.

I caught a glimpse of Roman kissing his new girl of the week in my peripheral view, and along with my confession, that was enough for my tears to press their way up in my eyes with a burn unlike anything I had ever felt in my life. 

I could swear that Letha was furious. That she wanted to throw me down the bleachers and stomp my face in. But instead, she slowly retreated her arm around me, holding her breath. Letha's green eyes glossed over, unable to meet my gaze anymore. "You... What?"

With swift movements, I pressed the sleeve of my sweater up against my eyes, not wanting to cry in public. "Could I please explain?" I tried, holding back a sob-- why on earth had I decided to do this now?

"What is there to explain?" Letha wrapped her jacket tightly around her body, almost as though to hug herself, her words coming out in a breathy mumble. "You kissed. Twice. Had it been once, I might've gotten it because it was a party game, but... you went back for more?" The hurt in her voice was thick, and I couldn't help but notice how small she sounded; I had never seen Letha so upset. 

Her question haunted me, and I buried my face in my hands. "I'm so sorry, Letha, I never meant to hurt you or go behind your back--"

"Is it at least something serious between you two?" Something about Letha hardened, and her words were starting to choke me. "Please tell me you pulled this crap for a good reason?"

I sniffled, wiping away any impending tears with my sleeve. The truth made my confession even more mortifying-- saying it out loud only made me feel worse; "He says he has no feelings for me..." 

Letha nodded, crossing her arms over her chest as she slowly started rocking herself. "And you have feelings for him?" When she didn't get an answer, she finally looked at me, meeting my glossy eyes with a glare so harsh that I nearly shuddered. I would've never thought Letha would be capable of pulling such an expression. Enraged, she raised her voice; "You have feelings for him?!"

Panicked, I put my hands over my head, almost as though I was scared she'd hit me. "I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry, Letha, you have no idea!--" As I heard her shuffle about, I raised my eyes to see her gather her stuff, ready to leave. My tears were burning in my eyes, obscuring my vision as I desperately grabbed her hand. "Letha, please! I made a mistake, I never wanted to do this to you!--"

"But you did!" Letha sneered, throwing her backpack over her shoulder. She turned to me with a look that would etch itself into my mind for days to come, a look so furious that it gave me goosebumps. "You're no different than the rest. Go be one of his whores, for all I care!"

Stunned, I watched as she made her way off the bleachers, not looking back. I didn't know Letha had it in her to call me slurs, but at the same time... I knew I deserved it. However, nothing could prepare me for the avalanche of sadness that would ensue my confession; I was dead sure that I had lost my best friend, and what had I gained in the process? I buried my face in my hands, allowing tears to run down my cheeks, trying to make myself as small as possible. My shoulders slumped, wanting to ball myself up into nothing and disappear. 

I did my best to get myself together, sniffling as I wiped away my tears. Reminding myself that I was in public, and that I definitely didn't want to make a scene, I let out a shaky breath as I gathered my stuff and got ready to leave. But just as I stood up, I couldn't help but look in Roman's direction, wanting to get a quick glance at the root cause of my misery.

However, I hadn't thought that he would be looking back at me as well.

There he was, his arm wrapped around another girl, but he couldn't take his eyes off me. He wouldn't-- Roman's gaze didn't shy away as our eyes met. Instead, they rounded out with the realization that I had been crying. 

Seeing him again, being acknowledged, was enough to drive me over the edge once more. Letting out a quiet sob, I stormed off the bleachers, clasping a hand over my mouth. Who would've thought my ridiculous crush would lead to these gut-wrenching feelings? It felt as though I couldn't breathe, heaving for air as I rushed to get away from everything and everyone.

 "It is the same rain that you loved that drowned you,"

To my surprise, it didn't take long before I heard the familiar sound of long steps following me. My heart beat so hard, I thought it might explode and cover the school grounds in my flesh and blood. The way my pulse quickened made me nauseous-- I needed to get away. "Go away, Roman!" I clutched my heart as I sped up; I didn't need to turn around to know it was him.

His next question could've easily been answered if he'd listened closely to the sob I was suppressing; "Are you crying?" Roman didn't have to do much to catch up to me, but he wasn't lunging at me just yet. "Why are you crying?"

I couldn't believe I had to deal with him on top of everything-- I groaned, turning around to face him despite how bloodshot my eyes looked. "Could you back off? Go back to your braindead cheerleader!" 

It was clear that Roman hadn't expected to be confronted head-on like this. His green eyes widened before they hardened, balling his fists as he spoke; "Why are you so fucking mad? What did I do this time?" 

"Everything!" I inhaled a shaky breath, burying my face in the crook of my arm to hide my tears. There was no way in hell I was about to cry openly in front of this douchebag. "I just-- I just lost Letha because of you! I got so swept up in you, I caused a fucking avalanche!" My lower lip gave in to a quiver, and multiple tears escaped the crease of my arm, now rolling down my chin and landing on the grass beneath us. "And you obviously don't give a damn about me, and I've been throwing my feelings at you like an idiot, and I just... How could I have been so stupid?" 

I swallowed another sob, making an unsuccessful attempt at wiping away my tears. Refusing to meet his eyes, I sniffled as my gaze fell to the ground, shaking my head in denial as Roman stayed silent. "Please, I... need to be alone. I don't want to make myself look even worse in front of you than I already do--"

My ramble escaped me with my next breath; it got caught in my throat as I felt the soft fabric of Roman's sweater against my chin, silently wiping away my tears. It was clear that he figured out I had told Letha. I dared to look up at him, finding an unusually forgiving tenderness about him. 

Speechless, I could only stare right back. Roman was focused on wiping away every hint of a tear, his brows drawing together as he carefully traced the bags under my eyes. The kindness of his gesture, the softness in which he was tending to my sadness, made a familiar warmth spread through my chest all up into the tips of my fingers. It became too much-- I reached for his hand, prying it away from my face. "Why are you doing this?"

Roman shrugged, debating whether to say what was on his mind. It was clear that he was conflicted, and I could see it in the way his shoulders tensed up and the way his jaw clenched. "Doing you a favour. Your mascara is everywhere," Roman grew more and more uncomfortable with my silence. "Just stop crying, okay? Do you want me to talk to Letha?"

"I doubt that will help," I mumbled, sniffling. "Look, Roman, I really can't do this right now... You and your bullshit just lost me my best friend, do you realize that?"

He shrugged; "Letha will come around... I guess we'll have to wait it out,"

"We?" I huffed, wiping away the tears that were threatening to spill once more. "There is no we. Letha is family to you, so of course she'll forgive you! Me, on the other hand!--"

"There could be," Roman mumbled, interrupting me. His gaze darted down to his shoes, now chewing on his lower lip as his next words came out with a low whisper; "A we, I mean."

What? I shook my head, immediately going into denial. "... What are you even saying?" Something about his words sent me over the edge again-- I was so tired of the illusion of everything turning out alright between us. The exhaustion brought more tears to my eyes, and I brought my hands up to my face, hiding from him in plain sight. "Go away," I said, my voice shaky from the sadness consuming me. "Go away, please just go away! I don't need you to change your mind every week whether you have feelings for me or not, just-- Go!"

Roman sighed before stepping forward, completely taking my breath away as he wrapped his arms around me. It felt as though he understood that I wasn't pushing him away with malice, but more so to protect myself-- and right now, he was wrapped around me like a shield. I didn't have any fight left in me to push him away, so I buried my face against his chest, inhaling the smell of cinnamon cigarettes that I had weirdly missed. 

"Let's go somewhere else, okay?" Roman said, sizing up the people passing us by with a scowl. "I have a feeling you don't want everyone to see this. Just follow me."

It didn't shock me that Roman's first thought was his car-- but I still ended up right there. In the dreaded backseat. Hadn't I promised myself I'd never set foot there? It seemed all my thoughts of reason flew out the window when I was in this state. He was currently tending to my new tears, wiping them away with the pads of his fingers. "Letha will forgive you," he murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Do you maybe want a cigarette? They usually help me take the edge off... I have different flavours, if you want?"

I shook my head, feeling my headache swell from all the crying. "No thanks," I said. "And I think Letha would rather cut her head off than forgive me right now. She even called me a whore."

"... You?" was the first thing that came out of Roman's mouth. "The only virgin left at this school?"

Despite how sad I was, it didn't hold me back from hitting his arm. Roman let out a warm chuckle, grabbing my hands, forcing them away from him. "Just stop crying, alright? Pretty girls aren't allowed to cry in the back of my car,"

"... What?" I turned to him, brows drawing together in confusion. Did he just...? 

Roman broke into a smile, nodding to my cheeks; "See? Not crying anymore. Flattery works every time,"

I held back a rather large groan-- I wasn't up for Roman's party tricks, especially not in this state. Knowing that he knew what I felt for him, knowing he used it to toy with me just for the fucks, made me even more angry. "I think I'm good now," I mumbled, turning away from him. "I don't think I should be seen here with you... Letha might actually think I have no heart."

There was a thick silence that fell over us like fog-- it made me face Roman again just to check what the hold-up was. And there he sat, his face suddenly completely serious, his brows drawing together in... anger? "Well, you chose this for yourself," he said, clenching his jaw as his black pupils shrunk. 

Everything about him right now scared me. Why was he staring at me like that? It was as though he was about to pounce and rip me to shreds. "Roman, what's up with you?--"

"You're not the fucking victim here," Roman's words came out with a sneer, sharp enough to cut through wood. "You asked me to kiss you. You started this. Being seen with me is not what's going to make Letha think you're heartless, so either you own up to your crap or leave me the fuck out of it!"

My lips parted in complete and utter shock. I blinked repeatedly, hoping to blink away the angry expression on his face. "What the fuck?" I sat up, tucking my hair behind my ears as I attempted to size him up. "You're the one who dragged this shit out! You threatened to tell Letha we kissed if I didn't comply to your wishes, and then you damn near dry-humped me in that fucking alleyway!"

"Hey!"

I could barely believe it; in the middle of his outburst, I could see hints of a blush creeping up his cheeks. "You know I'm right!" I barked back, balling my fists. I couldn't believe we were having the same argument over and over. "I wouldn't have been in this mess if you hadn't stirred the fucking pot! You could've said no in that fucking closet!" 

Roman quickly got enough of my retaliation; "You know why I didn't!"

"Yeah, and fuck you for that!" The volume of our altercation was rising-- I hoped people passing by the car couldn't hear this. "You shouldn't have kissed me! You should've just told me no, you owed me that kindness!" 

Roman's eye twitched, and I was sure he hadn't blinked in about a minute. "I didn't owe you any kindness! You've always been horrible to me!--"

"Because you've been horrible back!"

"And why do you think that is? You think it's easy to be treated like shit by the one person you?!--" Roman inhaled sharply, eyes widening as yet another confession slipped past his lips. It was clear that he was mortified, that he had definitely not wanted to let that slip, but his eyes never left mine in shock and horror.

It felt as though I had been electrocuted, completely frozen in my seat. Uttering my next words felt as though I was walking through a minefield; "Person you... What?"

It didn't take long before Roman started squirming, eyes now frantically doing everything not to meet mine. "Shut up," he breathed, reaching over to open the car door on my side. Now that he was leaning across me like this, it was obvious that he was trying to get me to exit the vehicle. However, his face betrayed him-- Roman's hand gripped the door handle, slowly turning his head towards me. Like this, I could feel his breath hot and heavy against my lips, inches away from me. 

I wasn't sure why I was digging my nails into my seat as though I was about to be mauled by a wildcat. The intensity oozing from Roman along with the realization that I had nowhere to run completely engulfed me, and my instincts suddenly pushed all thoughts of reason out of my brain. I had no idea what came over me as I put my hand over his, closing the door to the car before doing what I never thought I would do in this situation; our lips came together in a hot, fiery kiss as Roman leaned forward, laying me flat against the backseat. 

I told myself I would never end up in this situation-- in the back of Roman's car. But here I was, splayed out beneath him like all his cheerleader whores, completely out of breath as I gave in to my deepest, darkest desires. The taste of cinnamon tobacco entered my system, and I couldn't help but moan out against him; I had been dreaming of being reunited with him like this for longer than I could remember. So as Roman's weight on top of me gave me a sense of security, the need for his kisses dulled down all my logical thinking. 

There was nothing more important than this. There never had been.

The next thing that happened snapped me out of the constant static noise buzzing in my brain; "I want you so bad," Roman breathed against me, the whiny tone in his voice making my stomach flutter and flip-- was I maybe dreaming? 

"Fuck Letha," he continued, his kisses now trailing down my jaw and neck, grabbing at me as though he was afraid I'd disappear. "Fuck all of that."

No, no, no. I couldn't. "Don't-- Don't say that," It had never been harder to inhale a simple breath before, and I let my lips part in pleasure as I realized Roman was leaving hickeys in the crook of my neck. Why was he doing that? Did he not know everyone would see them and make conclusions?--

Oh.

Before I could protest, Roman's plush lips were back on mine, melting me against him with the softest kisses known to man. In a flash of passion, my hands went up into his hair in an attempt to bring him closer. I could feel the thud of his heart against mine, realizing his was racing as well-- I wondered whether he reacted like this to all his girls. Warmth blossomed in my chest, sparks igniting as Roman leaned in close, lips brushing together as we tried to catch our breaths. The smell of his cologne and the deep citrus scent of his conditioner made me dizzy to the point where it felt as though butterflies danced in my stomach. But the warmth consumed me, completely in awe of the fact that we were reunited again as I leaned into the next kiss, Roman's lips impossibly sweet against my own.

He didn't have to say anything for me to know he had missed me too. The unspoken words passed between us with each stroke of my fingers against his back, each kiss he placed against the corners of my mouth, and the softness of his thumb caressing my cheek. 

Roman pulled away as his long, slender fingers dug themselves into my waist. "Can I try something?" 

What? I was too dazed, too content to immediately deny him. But had I known what he would do next, I probably wouldn't have agreed so fast. Roman leaned forward to unite our lips in another passionate kiss, but I couldn't feel his hands on me anymore. It took me a few seconds to realize he was unbuttoning my jeans and reaching my zipper.

My eyes widened against the kiss, and the squeak I let out got muffled against his lips. In a flash of panic, my hand reached down to grab his arm with speed I didn't know I had. Roman hummed, detaching our fiery union as his green eyes met mine, trying to find the reason for my panic. "Come on," he purred, the look of mischief spreading across his lips. 

"I'm not doing it in the back of your car!" My fingers were still digging into the skin of his arm, making sure he wouldn't move. 

Roman rolled his eyes; "Not what I was getting at, but whatever," A laugh escaped him, tilting his head to the side as he looked down at me splayed out across the backseat. "I'm not that evil. I wouldn't let you have your first time here."

A sense of comfort washed over me-- since when did he take pity on me? "Then what... What are you doing?"

He shrugged, holding back another laugh; "Giving you a sneak peek,"

I wasn't sure what that entailed, but my grip around his arm loosened. 

Something about me changed whenever Roman was around. A part of me wanted to please him,  appease him, and entice him into staying with me like this forever, no matter what. I wanted nothing more than for us to be together, no matter how hard my conscience was gnawing at me regarding the Letha situation. But thoughts of my best friend quickly evaporated as Roman's finger was suddenly deep in my cunt-- I wasn't quite sure when I had managed to get wet, but here I was. It must've been somewhere in between the fighting and the kissing.

I could only whimper against his kisses, not used to having anything in me at all. There was a certain sting, but it dulled down when Roman was at the hilt of his knuckle. It quickly turned into something I had never felt before-- I couldn't put my finger on exactly what it was, but it felt as though all the butterflies in my stomach melted into one, a weirdly pleasurable ache building in my lower abdomen. 

As Roman added a second finger into me, careful to go in with slow strokes, my back arched slightly off the backseat of the car. Suppressing a moan, the hand I had in his hair tightened as a certain desperation ran through my veins. I watched as Roman smirked down at me, a knowing look in his eyes as he spoke; "If this feels good, imagine how it will feel when you get the real deal,"

I nearly shuddered-- that thought alone almost sent me over the edge. I could only writhe, my hips meeting the thrusts of his fingers as Roman ran his tongue along my bottom lip. 

I was aware that all of this was a bad idea. To get more involved with Roman, to let him unravel me further; it was plain stupid. And horrible to Letha. I knew it was awful, that Roman and I shouldn't be together, and that I should be running after my best friend to keep begging for forgiveness. 

Everything was starting to make my head spin.

As I came hard around Roman's digits, letting out a moan against his lips which would later make me blush, I couldn't help but wonder what on earth to do next. Should I let it all spiral? Should I get myself together and fix my friendship?

My thoughts completely shut down as Roman's wet fingers made their way past my lips, making me lap up my own slick. 

Filthy. We were filthy, we were fucking horrible, and his following words didn't make me feel any better.

"Let's give it a try," Roman whispered against my lips, sincerity swimming in his green eyes. "You and I... It just has to happen. This feels too good to be wrong, fuck what Letha says." 

There they were, the words I had wanted to hear from him all along. But now that he was right here, telling me he wanted us to be together, I found myself unsure what to say. When Roman leaned forward to sneak in a soft kiss, muffling the warmth of his chuckle, I realized I had a decision to make-- I knew it would end up being one of the hardest decisions of my life so far.

I held my breath, realizing the quote that had haunted me was correct after all; "It is the same rain that you loved that drowned you,"

(a/n: here are the links to PART 1, PART 2, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9!! thank you for reading!!<33)

[zarameraki]

♡₊˚🔪・₊✧ 𝘁𝗼𝗷𝗶 𝗶𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗸𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝘁. 𝟭₊˚🔪・₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 mdni 𖥔 obsessed at the first glance 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 masturbation (toji time) 𖥔 "she's mine even if she doesn't know it yet" 𖥔 age gap 𖥔 he's downright depraved for you

: ̗̀➛ word count: 3.7k

: ̗̀➛ notes: happy new year, mamas! and happy belated birthday to my baby daddy. y'all have no idea how fun it is to write toji fics. i've got a hundred already lined up. i'm going to make this a full series but for now here is part one of what's about to come (haha get it? oh god. i need help)

The first time Toji laid his eyes on you was the morning after he’d finished yet another one of his assassination cases.

There you were, seated on a picnic mat, a serene oasis in the bustling sea of activity. The wind danced through your hair, and you were engrossed in a book, your legs tucked comfortably beneath you. The music in your headphones created a private sanctuary, shielding you from the cacophony of playful children, picnicking families, and the vibrant hum of the city's summer.

Toji found himself rooted to the spot.

Oblivious to the annoyed cyclists and the world rushing past him, he stood there, captivated. It was as though he had stumbled upon a deity crafted solely for him.

You briefly raised your gaze, taking a momentary break from the confines of the small text.

Toji couldn't believe his luck as he found himself mesmerized by the tantalizing sight before him. Despite his best efforts to maintain composure, a telltale bulge in his sweatpants betrayed the mark you had on him. There you were, blissfully unaware, sipping from a water bottle that seemed almost rehearsed.

His fixation deepened as he observed every nuance of your movements—the curve of your mouth, the delicate way your throat accommodated the liquid, and the small hands that gripped the oversized bottle. He imagined his cock instead and flinched from the way his dick twitched. The simple act of you licking your lower lip and unbuttoning the top buttons of your dress shirt to fan yourself from the heat sent shivers down his spine.

You just had to start tying your hair up. 

Taking a deep breath, Toji briskly walked towards a nearby public restroom and locked himself in one of the vacant stalls.

His back pressed against the wall as he lowered his sweatpants and pulled his thick, trembling cock out, pre-cum trickling from the tip. He lowered his eyes and visualized you on your knees, grabbing his cock and circling your small, pink tongue around his tip. His head cruised back as you swallowed his length to the back of your warm throat, gagging, gasping, choking, bobbing your head back and forth. His fingers tightly held onto your tender scalp, fucking himself into your pretty, little mouth until your nose was crushed against his pelvis. He heard you begging, pleading, scratching at his hips to give you a breather, but Toji relentlessly fed you his cock, over and over and over—

Spurts of release erupted and splattered onto the stall's wall, with droplets dripping onto the floor. Toji opened his eyes only to find the space where your apparition was supposed to linger now empty. His hand was sticky and hot, smudged in the mess he’d made envisioning you. You. It was you who had provoked this intense response, causing him to reach a climax faster than ever before.

As Toji cleaned himself up, he couldn't ignore the unabashed stares from the onlookers, men who had clearly overheard him masturbating. Ignoring the judgmental gazes, he focused on formulating a plan to claim you, even if you fought or opposed it; he was convinced that, in time, you would surrender.

In his mind, you were already his.

Toji lingered for the next few hours on that park bench, focused on you. His eyes traced every move you made, absorbed in that stupid book of yours, oblivious to the frisbees and kites dancing above you. His gaze burned into the teenage boys engaged in soccer behind you, fuming as they carelessly neared you with the ball. Especially the one you beamed at after he half-heartedly apologized to you.

Fuck, that smile of yours was irreplaceable.

As you packed your mat into the duffle bag and rose, turning to dust your ass off from any debris sticking to it, Toji's thoughts took a blunt turn. Sleep was an impossibility now.

Following discreetly as you strolled down the path, immersed in the rhythm of your ear-throbbing music, Toji couldn't help but dissect every inch of you. Your clothes, undoubtedly high-end and branded, spoke volumes. The price tag on your headphones alone easily flirted with seven hundred dollars, if not more. It was clear—you came from a life of comfort, perhaps a spoiled heir or held a proud position in some grand corporation. You were proving to be a challenging prize, a fish that refused to be easily caught.

You decided to take a pit stop at a vegan café where they charged an arm and a leg for a tiny cup of espresso.

Patiently, Toji lingered outside, cigarette dangling from his lips, the ember casting shadows on his sharp features. Peering through the glass, he caught glimpses of your animated conversation with a male barista. Though, the bastard's eyes were shamelessly speaking to your cleavage.

Toji hadn’t killed anyone for fun in a while; maybe the lanky fucker was going to start a new streak. 

As you emerged, holding your iced coffee and muffin like some divine offering, he noticed the scribbles on the napkin. Ah, the barista's number, huh? The son-of-a-bitch just signed his own death warrant.

With a flick of your wrist, you crumpled the napkin and tossed it into the trash, conveniently placed right next to him.

Your eyes locked.

The cigarette in Toji's mouth hung suspended in a moment that seemed to stretch forever. Your gaze shot up as you took in the powerful physique of the man, the scar tracing its path on his left lip, and the black, sleek strands of hair framing those perilous, obsidian-green eyes. He was more than just attractive; he was a magnetic force, and you could feel the tingling of anxiety dancing on your skin. Too bad your family had always drummed into you the importance of polished over rugged.

Despite the internal turmoil, you turned on your heel and continued walking, nonchalantly sipping on your cold coffee to ease the tension building within you. There was an undeniable urge to steal one last glance at him, an itch in your brain pushing you to do so. With feigned composure, you added an extra sway to your hips, aware that his eyes were still on you.

Toji’s eyes were glued to your ass. Was he breathing? Nope. He was sure he’d busted his cover just then. You had checked him out for thirty whole seconds, the opportunity to speak suspended in the air, only to be pulled apart and crumble at his feet. 

But he didn’t care. 

He shadowed your every move, navigating through busy intersections, seamlessly blending into the teeming masses, keeping up with only the sway of your swinging ponytail and your ass. Fuck, he loved your ass. He wanted to spank it red, bruise the flesh for teasing you. 

Finally, you stepped into the most luxurious hotel in the city.

Toji wondered if you were a local or a visitor from abroad. If he had to purchase a plane ticket to tail you back to your residence, he'd gladly do it. It was insane how unknowingly you had him trapped, wrapped around your perfectly manicured finger.

The lobby was nothing short of fucking fancy.

The place was decked out with marble floors that shone so much he could almost see his reflection. A huge chandelier hung from the ceiling, sparkling with a zillion crystals.

The furniture was all plush and comfortable, like sinking into a cloud. Big, ornate couches and chairs scattered around, all in rich, deep colors.

In the middle was a fancy concierge desk with people in sharp suits and friendly smiles ready to help out. He caught a whiff of some subtle, expensive scent in the air—not too overpowering, just enough to make him feel like he was out of place.

There was a low hum of activity—people chatting, the clinking of glasses from the bar nearby, maybe some soft piano music in the background. He couldn't help but feel a bit important just standing there like he'd stepped into a world where everything was a little more polished and refined.

He was in hell.

"Dad!" you exclaimed, striding towards your father amidst a crowd of his guards and members of the family hotel enterprise board.

"Darling!" Your father embraced you briefly, then caught a whiff of something unusual around you. "Were you smoking?"

Shit. 

That attractive stranger from before had been smoking and the scent must’ve stuck to your clothes. 

"I bumped into a friend who was," you lied, acknowledging your father's associates with a nod. Your current appearance didn't exactly match the polished image your mother presented to the press, but it was a facet appreciated by some online fans. As the heiress to the family hotel, however, you understood the importance of maintaining grace.

Even on your days-off. 

"How was your meeting?" you asked.

"Same old, same old. Nothing for you to worry about," he replied dismissively.

"I mean, shouldn't I be involved? I'm almost twenty-one. It might be time for me to learn the ropes of managing—"

"I'm still around, aren't I?" Your father pushed your arm, causing you to stagger slightly. "Why don't you go freshen up now? We have a family dinner tonight." Family dinners, in this case, were elaborate affairs with your father and mother's vast social circles, almost a societal event. Unfortunately, everything was hosted at the hotel, making you feel like you were in a gilded cage.

"Sure, Dad."

He planted a quick kiss on your cheek and walked past you.

You stared at his retreating figure and the group of men you would eventually be working with, all of them vanishing through the hotel's automatic doors until the lights surrounding you became a blur. Your fingers touched your wet eyes, the back of your shaky hand wiping at your cheeks.

Despite the hurt, your training to act classy in public kicked in. You rolled back your shoulders, attempted a smile, and walked toward the elevators leading to your personal suite.

Observing the unfolding scenario from a discreet vantage point nearby, Toji, with arms and ankles casually crossed, wore a devilish smirk at how effortlessly the situation had played into his hands.

His room was on the twelfth floor. 

It served as a temporary base for the two nights he had planned to stay. Plenty of time, in his calculation, to claim you as his own. He walked the fine line between confidence and cockiness, especially when dealing with a woman of your caliber. If he were to leave empty-handed, Toji carried a darkness within that would annihilate those you loved, a merciless flood of destruction until you had no choice but to turn to him. His sights were set on you, beginning with your pretentious father.

Yes, Toji had researched each and every single human associated with you. 

Your father was a titan in the hospitality game and built an empire that stretched across the map. His hotels sprouted like mushrooms, and his wealth skyrocketed faster than you could say "check-in." He portrayed himself as the picture-perfect family man, but lurking in the shadows were dealings that'd make you think twice about tagging him with the 'daddy dear' label. During one of his many interviews, he let slip a desire for a son. When the inevitable talk of you inheriting the hotels surfaced, he'd chuckle, saying, "We'll see about that."

Toji absentmindedly toyed with his pocket knife, thinking of ways he’d cut your father’s tongue and shove it down his throat. 

Then there's your mom, the classic trophy wife. No accomplishments to her name, just born into a world of idle gossip and social climbing. Since you were in diapers, she's been molding you into the picture-perfect daughter for the public eye. Nannies raised you, and she only paid attention when it came to playing matchmaker, setting you up with aristocratic jerks.

Toji might spare your mother only because she was an airhead being puppeteered by your father’s gimmicks. 

You, on the contrary, were as perfect as one could get. Top of your class all through elementary to high school, currently enrolled in a business Ivy program at a prestigious university, president of the student union, and an active team player in clubs as absurd as juggling.

Your carefully crafted social media presence had Toji rolling his eyes. An avid reader who probably devoured Shakespeare in between saving the world and a lover of sunsets because nothing said depth like a passion for the fading light. Your commitment to wildlife, starting a charity for animals in captivity that was funded strictly by your family's friends. He bet the lions and tigers sent you thank-you cards.

Toji forcefully closed his laptop, took a deep breath, and sank into his mattress, gripping the roots of his hair.

He knew he wanted you. He wanted to touch you, to be inside of you, to break you and put you together again. The image of you being pushed by your father played in his mind, making his heart threaten to burst from his chest.

Despite the depraved thoughts, Toji was genuinely curious about you. The real you. The person seeking love in the same way you offered it to others. He wanted to fuck you but also take great care of you. He wanted to make you cry, but only when you were underneath him, begging for more. He’d kill himself if he hurt you otherwise. He questioned if a dormant monster within you waiting to be awakened by his own.

There had to be. 

And he would be the one to root it out.

Toji pulled himself together, took a quick shower, and threw on the best outfit he had found in his cramped closet within his even more cramped apartment while packing. Living in close quarters didn't bother him; after all, his income came from a rather unconventional source—he was a professional assassin, taking out targets for clients that ranged from politicians to drug dealers. Penthouses and sports cars weren't his style, even if he could afford them; he preferred the simple life, spending most of his earnings on one thing he enjoyed the most: gambling on horse racing.

Knowing that you'd be at the bar, Toji decided to do a bit of reconnaissance. He hacked into the private security servers of the hotel, observing your movements from the corridor to the public areas. He saw you leaving your room in a stunning maroon gown, hair elegantly pinned up, and lips painted a vibrant red. His dick jerked in his trousers.

He spotted you alone at the bar, enjoying a cyan-colored drink. The smooth expanse of your back in that revealing dress nearly made him come in his pants right there and then.

Cracking his neck muscles, Toji walked up to the bartender, positioning himself about two meters away from where you sat. He pulled out a cigarette and flicked the silver lighter, flaming the end of the dart. Drawing in the first drag, he exhaled a plume of smoke. “I’ll take a whiskey.” 

Giving you a casual once-over, Toji noticed you tracing circles on the table, lips in a pout, and eyes blinking languidly.

“Rough day?” he asked, settling into the seat beside you.

“You have no idea—” You looked sideways and met the dark green eyes of the attractive stranger. Your nails were now idle on the table, and you sat up straight. A breath caught in your chest, and you greeted him with a simple "Hi."

“Hi.” He pulled out the cigarette to take a sip, lips pulling in to savor the sharp taste of his whiskey. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, sweetheart.” 

Your chest skipped a beat at the unexpected nickname. "I-I— Are you stalking me or something?"

“Stalking is a strong word, doll. I prefer 'casual observation.'”

“So you’re stalking me?” 

The stranger chuckled, and your knees quivered from the husky, rough sound. “You're a vision, sure,” he said, his voice a slight victim to the smoking, “but I’m too much of a gentleman to do such a thing.” 

You observed his clothes closely. He was dressed in a sleek black formal ensemble with impeccably shiny Oxfords. However, his hair was neatly combed down instead of styled up, and you caught the silver hoop adorning his left ear. The idea of him being sent by your mother or being the son of one of your father's friends quickly crossed your mind, but you ruled out the possibility. Maybe him being outside that café and being here was a complete coincidence.

“The name’s Toji.” He extended his hand for a shake. You glanced at the faded scars on the back of his hands. And when you hesitantly slipped your hand through his, the roughness of his palm rubbed against your softer one. “Ever washed a dish in your life, sweetheart?” 

A shake of your head was all the admission he needed.

"Yeah, figured as much." Toji turned your hand, his thumb tracing a journey along its unblemished terrain.

You quickly took back your hand and placed it on your lap. “I’m sure you know my name.” 

Toji tilted his head. “Am I supposed to?” 

You blinked. In a world where your family name echoed through the corridors of the hotel, his genuine ignorance was a rarity. "I'm Y/N.”

"Y/N," he echoed, your name a lazy caress on your skin. Above the rim of his nearly empty glass, he regarded you with a watchful gaze. “The fuck is that, anyway? Windex?” 

You raised your drink. “It’s a mocktail. I have a family dinner in an hour so I can’t drink. My father says it’ll impede my ability to talk. I can’t mess anything up.” 

He half-rolled his eyes. “You like Coke?” 

“Like, the soda?” 

"What else, sweetheart?" He swiped a finger under his nose, throwing in a wink. "Unless that's your thing."

“No.” Your cheeks heated. “I like diet Coke, I suppose.” 

Toji locked eyes with you and signaled the bartender. "Vodka diet coke for the lady."

"What?" You started to object, but Toji's hand clasped around your forearm, freezing you. “Remove your hand right now.” 

He raised his hands in mock surrender, a grin playing on his lips. If he weren't so irritatingly charming, you might have considered introducing your mocktail to his face with a quick call to security as a chaser. “Just don’t want you to die knowing you never tried vodka.” His cheeks hollowed as he inhaled, exhaling wisps of smoke that danced in captivating swirls. “Ever smoked?” 

You shook your head, a coy resistance to his vices obvious on your face. "It's detrimental to your health, you know. Consistent smoking can fast-track your journey to an early death. If you're aiming for more than thirty candles on your birthday cake, I'd advise a little moderation."

A sardonic chuckle escaped him. “Well, fuck.” He inspected the dart in his hand as if it held the secrets of the universe. “Guess I missed the invitation for my funeral five years ago.”

He’s old. 

“Too old for you, sweetheart?” He dipped his head conspiratorially, locking eyes with you. "Hope you're not collecting a set of daddy issues like souvenirs."

You shot him sidelong glances, a subtle shake of your head. "I happen to like my dad, thank you very much."

“You’re welcome.” 

You couldn’t help but let out a small puff of a laugh at his response. 

He shot you a grin, his scar stealing a moment of your attention before the vodka diet Coke presented itself. “You still in school?” 

You nodded. “University.” 

“Yeah? You like it?”

“Keeps me distracted.” 

“From?” 

Your hand swept through the ambience of the hotel's bar, and Toji followed your motion, absorbing the surroundings. “I don’t know if my name rang a bell at all, but I’m to inherit this place.” 

“Didn’t.” Toji raised his glass, gesturing his chin at the vodka diet coke in front of you. “Let’s drink to it.” 

“I told you I can’t. I’m also lightweight. Besides, I don’t want it on my tab. My father keeps a check—”

“My father this, my father that.” Toji sighed, taking your drink and snagging a straw from a nearby container. He placed it near your lips. “Your father might have set the stage, but he can't dictate the play. Take a sip. If you hate it, fuck it. That work for you, sweetheart?"

You frowned at the subtle pressure venting from him. A fleeting swipe of your tongue traced your lower lip, drawing Toji's gaze to the subtle curve. His intense scrutiny left you feeling strangely singled out, a rare occurrence in a world where every tidbit of your life laid at the fingertips of anyone with an internet connection. Your secrets were a vault locked tight, shared with no one but yourself. Indulging in personal interests took a back seat to your responsibilities, and you strictly stuck to a scripted persona to protect your family's reputation. Even something as mundane as sipping on a vodka diet Coke. 

Toji set the drink on the table, slipping a generous tip to the bartender. His financial status seemed modest, likely someone comfortably positioned enough to book a room in your hotel. “Listen, sweetheart, I don’t often give out advice ‘cuz frankly, I'm not exactly an expert on your generation.” He took a final drag of his cigarette, extinguished it under his foot, and nonchalantly dropped the remains into your drink. “But, you might want to dust off that brilliant little brain of yours sooner rather than later. Mind passing me a pen, buddy?” 

The tender handed him a sharpie instead, and Toji scribbled out something on a napkin.

“Are you leaving?” you asked, feeling somewhat disappointed in yourself. You wanted him to ask you more questions. You wanted to know more about him. 

“Afraid so, doll.” He folded the napkin, both of you surreptitiously scanning the surroundings before he handed it over. A smirk played on his lips, causing you to rethink the urgency with which you accepted it. “Your old man taught you lots of lessons, but seems like 'Stranger Danger' wasn't part of his curriculum, huh?” 

“He doesn’t completely control me.” 

Toji smirked, tapping the folded napkin. “Well, we're about to test that theory."

He left you perched on the barstool, and the moment he vanished, you unfolded the napkin, heart pounding.

ROOM 1231. 

Sooner or later.

[thebestofoneshots]

Waiting For a Girl Like You | wolfstar x reader

Pairing: R.L.. x S.B. x Gn!Reader (originally written as a woman but then I discovered I hadn't used any pronouns, and the reader was not particularly feminine, so it became my first official GN) Word Count: 5 k Warnings: None Prompt: Unbeknownst to many, your birthday has always been a quiet affair, you don't often celebrate it and you certainly weren't expecting for things to change the moment you met those two, enimagtic boys on your Creative Writing course. You could have not been more mistaken.

I got two requests a couple of weeks ago and I could not fulfil them on time for the life of me. Dear @msblacklupin and @propertyofrjl sent me similar requests about a certain birthday fic and first of all, Guys your birthdays are on the same day, How cool is that!?! Second, I'm so sorry I took so long, but it's finally here!

I decided to combine the prompts since I thought it would be really cute for the story, and this is what I've come up with.

Hope you enjoy, darlings! I'm wishing you all the best! xx Lils

Written for @msblacklupin and @propertyofrjl

You hadn’t had the best experience with birthdays so far. Back in your hometown, it was the same day as a special celebration of the discovery of the mines and they held a huge, town-wide party for it. The party was great, a fair, balloons, cotton candy, everything great, everything kids loved. Unfortunately, it was so good that people tended to forget about your birthday since they were excited about Mining Day. 

Of course, people close to you remembered (your parents), but even though you had told your friends plenty of times that your birthday was on the same day, it had slipped their minds a good deal of times. You tried to make parties and people would prefer going to see the guest singer invited to the festival. You'd make them the next day and they were too tired to come. 

Eventually, you just gave up on celebrating your own birthday and decided to join the rest on Mining Day, enjoying the candies and everything in between. It might have not been your special day but it was a special day and that was as good as you’d get. Or so you thought. 

When you moved to London for university, you didn’t even think about telling your friends about your birthday, and they hadn’t asked either. That was until you took that Creative Writing side course and met them. You had been on time but the room had been filled to the brim with students, and there was nowhere to sit. You’d huffed and were about to leave to ask for a chair from a different classroom but when you turned around you bumped into the prettiest person your eyes had ever laid eyes upon, piercing grey eyes, long wavy hair, and features so elegant he looked royal.

He smiled, such a pretty smile. “Hey, you were going for one of these? I brought extra,” he said as he pulled one of the chairs up to signal what he was talking about. 

“Yeah,” you said shily. 

“Cool, come along then,” he said and you moved out of the way as he moved with the chairs. He moved his chairs all the way to a table where there was another stunning person sitting down. “What’s your name, Luv?” You replied with your name, soft and polite. “Pretty,” he said, flashing that same smile your way, meaning both you and your name, not that you knew. He accommodated the chairs, one next to each other, wiped his hands on his black jeans and then extended his hand to you. “Sirius Black.” 

You shook his hand and then the other boy’s warm smile caught your eye. “Remus Lupin,” he said with his hand extended as well. He had scars all over his body, but it didn’t make him any less handsome. Were you curious about them? Of course, you were. Were you gonna ask? No way in hell.

The boys had met each other at a boarding school in Scotland and had moved to London recently. Remus wanted to take a lit class and tried to convince his friends to join him but Sirius didn’t love the idea of a class where he’d have to read and analyse books, so he suggested taking something more on the creative side. 

Remus found the Writing Course and Sirius had been more than happy to join him. You and Remus actually had a lot in common, you discovered as the class went on. You had both read a lot, and you veered towards the same authors and storylines. You had an insane passion for Oscar Wilde and he loved Mary Shelly. You sometimes wondered if he liked her so much because of the way she described the Fiend, you truly hoped that wasn’t it, because while you could see how Rem would relate to the monster, you hated the idea of it, since you considered him absolutely stunning. 

Days had gone by, and while you always sat with the boys and hung out with them every time you saw them at school, you hadn’t really seen them outside of it, that was until you got a group assignment and Sirius was quick to place his arms around both you and Rem and claim you as his team. 

Remus scribbled your names on a piece of paper and handed them over to the teacher before she assigned each of you a different subject for your story. You got fantasy. The boys seemed to be diverted when you started talking about mythical creatures and wizards, and you assumed it had something to do with an inside joke they developed through the years of knowing each other.

They invited you over to their apartment that was just next to a corner cafe cleverly named “The Corner” and you had stopped by to get something for you and the boys, since you weren’t sure how long it would take and were now waiting just outside the door to their apartment complex. 

“We’re coming, Sweets,” Sirius’ voice said through the speakers as the door buzzed open to let you in. 

You used your shoulder to push inside and carefully moved the carton with the three coffee cups inside as you entered, your backpack strap got caught in the door and you were forced to turn around to and you opened the door again, placing the paper bag with fresh bread on your mouth to free one of your hands and pulled the strap free. 

When you turned around, you were shocked to find a smiling Sirius right in front of your face. “You shouldn’t have bothered, Luv!” he said and extended his hand towards your mouth, taking the paper bag and then the carton with the coffee from your hand.

“I wanted to,” you said simply. 

Sirius and you went up the stairs, Remus was waiting by the door and the two of them welcomed you in. For an apartment belonging to two boys, it was surprisingly neat. Remus had arranged his coffee table with a few cushions over the rug so you all could sit together, he had a couple of pens and pencils, his notebook and a stunning Remington Typewriter. 

You almost walked straight to look at it when you spotted it on the table, “This is her, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” Remus said as he sat beside you. “Wanna try it?” 

“Can I please?” you asked, you had a Brother one at your apartment, and you adored her, but Remingtons were classics. His was from the 50s and it looked brand new. Rather than responding, Remus placed a paper through the platen and pushed it towards you. 

Since you didn’t actually have a plan to write something, you just typed the boys’ Name and then yours, right at the top of the paper. 

“What are we going to write then? Any ideas?” 

“Didn’t you say you wanted to talk about wizards?” Sirius asked with a smile. 

“But do you want to?”

He chuckled, “Of course, Sweets, we’d love to go for that.” He reclined his head on the sofa. “We’ve actually discussed it, and we have some ideas, don’t we Moony?” 

Remus shot a look at Sirius, who winked in return. 

“Yeah?” You asked as you turned your gaze to Sirius. “For the plot?”

“Mhm… hear me out. It’s a hidden school for wizards, you get there by taking a secret train hidden at King’s Cross. The school is full of magic and mysteries and ghosts and other magical creatures.” 

You frowned, “I don’t know… it sounds a little too surrealistic, doesn’t it?”

Sirius laughed at your statement and Remus threw pillow towards his face, you squirmed in your seat a little uncomfortably and then Rem placed his hand on your shoulder, “It’s okay, Dove. We don’t have to go for Sirius’ idea.”

“But he said you wanted to write about it too…”

“I’ll be happy with whatever we make. I know with our writing skills and Sirius’ creativity we’ll make something brilliant.” 

You pulled out your notebook and checked the list of ideas for the story you had to write. It had to be at least 50k words and you had three weeks to finish it. So the three of you would have to get writing as soon as possible, which meant you had to define the story and you had to define it fast. Most of your ideas were either unfinished, not doable in such a short time or had the opportunity to be integrated into Sirius’ magic school. 

“Okay, tell me more about your Wizard’s school.” 

Sirius smiled, threw a look at Remus –a satisfied sort of look– before turning back to you, “Okay, so the name is Wartshow: School for Wizardry and Witchcraft, and–“ 

“Doesn’t Witchcraft and Wizardry sound better, though?” 

Sirius licked his lips and smiled. “All right then, Wartshow: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” You wrote it down in your notebook. 

“It’s the story about a boy, a boy that thought they wouldn’t be able to assist even though he was a wizard.” 

“Sirius,” Remus said in a warning tone. 

“Shut up Moony, you’ll kill my inspiration.” 

“Why did he think that?” You asked. 

“Because he was bitten by a werewolf when he was 4.”

 Remus scoffed and stood up, “I’ll bring the snacks.” 

“Is he okay?” you asked. 

“He’s not a fan of my story,” Sirius said. “He says the main character is not a hero, but I differ.” 

You hummed in response. “What’s the boy’s name?” 

“Re- Andrew,” he said, “Andrew Renault.” 

“Renault? Is he french?” 

“No, I don’t– he is not.” 

“Okay, then we should go for a more English name, like… Remington?” 

“Andrew Remington? Sounds posh.” 

“As if  Sirius Black sounded less posh,” you joked and he scoffed playfully at you. He continued listing his ideas, telling you Remus’ story although he had changed the names of almost everyone. “Will there be dragons?” you asked after he had laid out the basic idea.

 “Dragons? Those are dangerous!” 

“Of course they are, but it’s more exciting than the…ugh” –you checked your notes– “boggart monster you mentioned.” 

“Dragons are definitely more exciting than Boggarts,” Remus said as he sat on the floor next to you. You couldn’t help but notice his scars, perhaps Sirius had used those as inspiration for Andrew. 

“Okay, so we’ll add dragons. What if there’s a dragon in the dungeons?” 

“No, in the dungeons there are snakes,” Sirius said as if it were a fact. He had clearly thought this out. 

“Okay… what about a secret room in the castle that has dragons? It’s magical, right? It could be bigger on the inside, like the TARDIS.” 

“The what?” Sirius asked, confused. 

“The TARDIS! From Doctor Who?” you said as if it were a fact, he still looked confused. “You do know what I’m talking about, right Rem?” 

“Is it a book?” he asked. 

“A book? How do you even call yourself Brits if you don’t know about Doctor Who? That’s it, Sunday, my house, we’re watching a marathon.” 

“Whatever you want, dove,” Remus said and handed you a piece of chocolate. 

“So, going back to the story. A room that’s bigger on the inside. Like a… Chamber of Secrets?”

“Sirius,” Remus warned again. 

“It’s what she said!” Sirius said defensively. 

After that, you finished plotting the small story in between the three, even with the slight reluctance you detected from Remus, you got around to defining all of your main characters, the challenges they’d go through and the resolution of the story. 

“By the way, tomorrow is our flatmate James’ birthday,” Sirius said as he closed the notepad he’d been writing on. “Wanna come to the party?” 

“I don’t think I’ve met James, though.” 

“It’s fine, he’ll love to meet you I’m sure,” Remus said. “When is your birthday?” 

“I–“ you hesitated, “I don’t really celebrate it.” 

“Why not? We should definitely celebrate the day you were brought into this world,” Sirius said. 

You smiled, Sirius could be the sweetest sometimes. “I don’t do parties…” 

“Because you don’t want to?” 

“No! It’s just… long story, don’t bother yourselves with it.” 

“I’ll tell you a secret,” Sirius offered. “In exchange, you give me your birthday, how about that?” 

You laughed, Sirius wasn’t the type to care too much about things, so you walked towards him and whispered the date in his ear. 

“Now yours?” you said as he leaned closer to you. 

“It’s all real, we are magicians from the school in our story,” he whispered. 

You laughed. “I thought you’d tell me a real secret, should have known,” you added as you shoved him, he just laughed and shrugged in response, as if he was saying it’s your loss, for not believing his lie. 

After that day, you hung out with them almost all the time, be it to watch movies, to continue that Doctor Who marathon, or to hang out with the boys on their birthdays. In fact, it was almost odd if you didn’t see each other in more than a couple of days, since they would find almost any reason to meet, Sirius would call and say ‘Hey, there’s a new movie I want to see, you coming with us?’

Or Remus would leave a note on your mailbox telling you to come with him to a library later that day since he had just finished the book he was reading and you were always the best at finding the right books. 

So. of course, you thought it was odd when, on the morning of your birthday, you called their apartment and got no response. Now you weren’t expecting a grandiose party, you weren’t even going to get a cake or anything, but you wanted to see them, maybe go out for dinner, or have a cinema night. You rang them again and still no answer. 

You sighed and walked towards school. You didn’t have that creative writing course today so you weren’t expecting to see them there, but perhaps on the lunch break, you’d find them in your usual spot. 

Your classes were rather tedious, an old professor that spoke very quietly and you had to sit at the very front to even hear him, and then another professor who almost always went over the same thing you’d seen in the first class. Always, round and round the same thing, with nothing new. At least you’d have a class with Professor Almain before lunch. It was your favourite class of the semester –aside from the writing course– and so far, you thought it’d be the highlight of your day. 

But when you got to his classroom, the room was empty and there was a short note on the board: Professor Almain is indisposed today. Study Chapters three and four of your book, you’ll be discussing them next class. The note was signed by Tobby Klein, his assistant. 

You sighed and sat down on one of the chairs, sulking as you took out the book mentioned and started to read. Someone else tried to enter the room a few minutes later, and when they realised there would be no class, they left the classroom instantly. Perhaps they had something better to do, you didn’t. 

You had taken that class as an extracurricular, so you barely knew the students in it, and your classmates were in a class you had taken online, so you couldn’t exactly go search for any of them. You could have gone to the library, but it also seemed unnecessary when you had a perfectly quiet classroom all to yourself. 

You were about halfway through the chapter when you heard someone knocking on the glass window. When you turned you spotted Sirius waving his hand at you with a bright, pearly smile. He looked as dashing as ever. It was ridiculous how pretty you still thought he was even when you saw him all the time. 

He entered the room shortly after. “What are you here all alone?” he asked as he pulled a chair next to yours and pressed a short kiss on your cheek as a greeting. Sirius did that all the time, you’d assumed it was because he was half French. 

“Class was cancelled,” you said as you pointed to the board. “Had nowhere to go. Aren’t you supposed to be in class too?” 

He hummed in response. “It’s that stupid advanced maths class Moony convinced me to take, I was falling asleep and asked to go to the bathroom to throw some water at my face when I spotted you.” 

“You should go back.” 

“To maths? Rather than staying with you? Yeah, right!” 

A small smile appeared on your lips as you stared at him while shaking your head in disbelief. “What if you fail, though?” 

“I’m not going to fail,” he said with a shrug. “Moony can tell me what it was about later. Wanna grab something to eat? My treat.” 

You nodded and pulled your bag from the ground. “I was actually going to invite you guys over tonight,” you said as you opened the zipper and placed the book inside the bag, “I mean I’m sure you don’t remember, and I don’t really want to make anything big but–“ 

“That today is your birthday?” Sirius asked. 

You turned to him in shock, “You– you…” 

“How on earth would I forget?” he said with a smile. “It’s the day my best girl was born. They should make a fucking parade for you.” 

You felt your cheeks warm at Sirius’ grandiose attitude. “Come on,” he said as he stood up and offered his hand. “It feels like a day for ice cream, want some?” 

You nodded and he dragged you towards the parking lot, his hand not leaving yours at all, you tried to ignore the fluttering in your chest since you suspected he had a thing with Remus, but it was almost impossible when he looked at you with his stunning grey eyes. 

He took out the helmet they’d gotten you when they started offering to take you on rides from Moony’s bike and handed it over. It was a full-face black helmet that matched the one the two of them wore almost perfectly, but while Moony’s had a half moon and Sirius’ had a star, yours had both. 

It had been Remus who added the matching moon, and Sirius –who instantly got jealous over it– painted a star right in the middle, he was exceptionally good at painting, sometimes you wondered why he didn’t study art. Then again, you weren’t sure what exactly they were studying, since they had taken classes from more than four different degrees as if they had only picked the few classes that they were interested in.

 You took the helmet in between your hands and hopped on Sirius’ bike. He drove you to the small park that was just a couple of minutes from the school and got you your favourite ice cream from the small ice cream shop James had discovered a while back. 

“So, about tonight?” 

“Moony has a thing,” Sirius said with an apologetic smile. “He has a big presentation tomorrow and he’s working on it with his team tonight, they’ll be using the rooftop of our apartment for it, I believe.” 

“Oh,” you said, trying to hide your disappointment. 

Sirius bit his lip, “Why don’t you come over?” 

“I wouldn’t want to be a distraction, I mean–“ 

“I don’t have to work on any projects,” Sirius said. “We could play chess, watch a movie while he finishes and then we order something to eat.” 

“You– do you really think that’s a good idea?” you asked, uncertain, as you brought your ice cream to your mouth.

“For sure,” he said. “We could get a cake and–“ 

“No cakes.” 

“But you like cakes!” 

“Not on my birthday.” 

“That’s ridiculous! You have something on your face.” 

“Where?” you asked. 

“There,” he said as leaned his finger close to you and smeared some of his ice cream over your cheek. You gasped in shock. 

“Sirius!” you admonished.

“Yes, Luv?” he responded, as if you had just called him.

You used the napkin wrapped around your cone to clean your cheek, “That was uncalled for.” 

“I don’t know about that, your cheeks looked like they needed some ice cream,” he said while trying, and failing to hold back a smile, he pulled a napkin from his pocket, much like a magician would do, and handed it over to you. You were about to take it from his hand, but he shook his head and wrapped his fingers around your chin and turned your head to the side softly. “Allow me.” 

He took longer than needed while whipping your cheek, but he didn’t exactly want to pull apart, and you didn’t want him to pull apart either. 

“There you go.” 

“It’s sticky now,” you teased. 

“Nothing can keep you happy, can it, Sweetheart?” he said dramatically and wrapped his arm over your shoulders and leaned his head on yours. 

You just laughed. Sirius convinced you to skip the next class and stay with him at the park and then took you home. 

“Want me to pick you up?” He asked as you got down from the bike. He had propped the small side stand down and was leaning on the handlebar. You could hardly believe he had driven you all around looking that handsome, with his leather jacket, and high boots. Sirius was pretty all the time, but sometimes he felt more like a fictional character than like an actual human. 

You saw a girl eyeing him as she passed by, and you couldn’t help but smile at him and nod. “Yeah, that would be lovely. At 7?” 

He smiled, gave you a short wink, and put his helmet back on. “See you soon, Sweetheart.” He said, voice slightly muffled by the helmet before he drove off. You entered your apartment shortly after, and it took you a whole minute to recover. It’s not that you hadn’t gone out with Sirius plenty of times, but this one seemed a lot more like a date than all of the previous ones. 

You took a snack bar from your pantry, went for a shower, and asked your classmates about the class you’d missed. A friend of yours told the teacher that you were feeling sick to cover for you and he said he wouldn’t count the absence (it was the first time you missed that class anyway), and you had always been rather participative. 

After that, you grabbed the book you’d been reading and read until it was 7. The light outside had already gone out, and you took some chocolates you’d bought for Remus last week and placed them in your backpack, it was then that you heard the familiar honk of Sirius’ Triumph.

You walked downstairs and met him outside. He switched his band tee for a snug turtleneck sweater that fit him obscenely well and was still wearing his leather jacket. You had kept your helmet and put it on as you approached his bike. 

“You smell nice,” you said as you sat behind him.

“You think?” he asked, playing dumb. “Maybe it’s the aftershave,” he added as he pulled the side stand up and drove into the street. You eyed him suspiciously, not that you could see much while he had his helmet on but you still did.

By the time you arrived at their apartment, you had forgotten all about your suspicion and were just leaning onto Sirius as much as you could, since the night had grown a lot colder than you expected it would. Sirius parked his bike just outside and the two of you walked the three floors of stairs to their apartment.

You expected to see James lounging around like he often did, but he was not there, and Sirius told you Remus was on the terrace at the top, doing his thing, so you walked towards the sofa while Sirius offered to make you a cup of tea.

“Remus bought the one you like,” he said, pulling out a box with the tea you had tried a while back. You had fallen in love with the flavour, but you never found it in the supermarket –it was from a small tea shop at Diagon Alley, so really, there would be no way for you to find it.

“Okay,” you said, “got milk?” 

Sirius nodded towards the fridge and you helped him by pulling out the milk and some biscuits. When your cup was ready, he handed it over to you and took a sip of his own. He glanced at the clock quickly, so quick you barely even noticed and then smiled. It was that mysterious smile of his that told you he was up to something. “We should go see Remus.” 

“What? I thought he was working on his project.” 

“He probably is, but you haven’t seen him all day, I’m sure he wants to at least give you a birthday hug.” 

“A birthday hug?” you asked in disbelief. 

“Yes! A birthday hug! We’ll bother him for a bit and then we come back and you tell me about that book you’ve been reading. The one with the character you said reminds you of me.” 

“You’re so full of yourself,” you said with a laugh as you nodded and followed along with him. 

As you reached the top of the stairs you heard some shuffling on the other side of the door. Sirius was the one to open it first, but none of the lights they normally had were up. 

“Maybe they went to do their homework at the Corner Cafe,” you told Sirius as you turned to him. Suddenly all the lights turn on, including candles and the hanging fairy lights at the top. 

“Surprise!” A chorus of voices sang.

You were startled, Remus and James were right in front of their small table, and there was a cake right in front of them. They had invited their friend Lily, who was dating James and with whom you were fairly close to. She was the first one to approach you.

“I can’t believe Sirius was the one to tell me when your birthday was, Luv! He used to forget mine all the time!” She turned to Sirius with an accusing gaze and then back at you. “Happy Birthday,” she added as she hugged you. 

James gave you a short squeeze after and Remus wrapped you in his arms and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. Sirius joined the hug right after. 

“You’re squeezing me, boys!” you complained in a laugh. 

“It’s a birthday squeeze, deal with it,” Sirius responded, and pressed even closer. 

“Remus?” you tried, he was the most reasonable one between the two. 

“You heard Sirius, Dove. It’s the birthday squeeze.” 

You must have stayed like that for at least a minute before either of the two let go of you, you were certain Lily had whispered something to James, but you were too busy basking on the wrath of the squeeze to bother. After that, you would have sworn the lights of the cake turned on by themselves as Lily walked over to you with it. They sang Happy Birthday while Sirius pulled you to sit on his lap, using the terrible excuse that there was no other seat available. 

You had cake and then they handed over your gifts. A book from Lily and a chocolate frog from James, although he warned you not to open it until later. You didn’t know what that was about but decided to do what was told. Eventually, Lily said she had to go and James offered to walk her. 

Although he said ‘I’ll fly you’ getting a look from Remus that you missed entirely. The boys had extended a pair of matts over the deck and you were all laying on them while gazing at the stars. 

“It was lovely, thank you for the surprise,” you said as you looked at the waning moon. 

“It was nothing, Luv,” Rem said.

“Remus was really eager to celebrate your birthday. We actually have a little present for you,” Sirius added. 

“Really?” you asked, turning to Sirius.

“Mhm,” he nodded. 

“Open the frog,” Remus prompted. 

You leaned forwards and sat on the mat, pulling the frog from the table and doing what told. Suddenly the Frog that looked like it had been made out of chocolate jumped and fell near Remus’ leg. You gasped and stared at the moving frog. It looked like chocolate, but it moved as if it were alive. 

“What– did James give me an actual frog?” 

“No, it’s chocolate,” Remus reassured and picked it up. The frog stilled in his hand. 

You stared at it in disbelief, “Is this some sort of trick?” 

“It’s magic,” Sirius said. 

You frowned at him.

“Remember the story for our class? The one that we worked on together?” 

“Wartshow, Andrew, yeah of course.” 

“Well, It’s sort of real.” 

“What?” 

Remus pulled out his wand and handed it over to you. You stared at it, it looked like a wand, it felt like a wand, but there was no way it was magic because magic– “Is this some kind of trick?” 

Sirius laughed and pulled out a different wand from his pocket, he whispered something and red sparks blew out from the tip. You swallowed and took it from his hands. Checking on it to see if there was some kind of trick, or cannon dust or something inside of it, but it was just a stick, fancy, but a stick. 

Remus took his wand and with another set of words, levitated the small frog right in front of your face. You looked at it with eyes wide open and moved your hand all over it to make sure it really was floating, and it wasn’t some kind of invisible string trick. It was right in front of your eyes, and it was still too fascinating to believe.

“But… in our story, wizards couldn’t tell the non-wizards about their existence. It was meant to be a secret… I mean… Why are you telling me?” 

Remus smiled, his hand searched yours and he leaned his head on top of yours and sighed. “Because we trust you,” he said while looking ahead, at nothing in particular.

Sirius searched for your other hand, making sure to turn it around and interwinning his fingers with yours. He placed his head on your shoulder. “Because we like you.” 

You hadn’t had the best experience with birthdays, but this had been one of the nicest birthdays of them all, more so when your two crushes admitted what Sirius had meant by his words. That they liked you –romantically– not just as friends. 

A/N: I am so, SO sorry for taking this long to finish your gift, but I made it a bit longer than initially planned to make up for it.

Hope you both had the most amazing birthday and that you're having a wonderous day today. Sending you lots of love, hope you enjoy this little thing <3

[reiderwriter]

My Love Is Mine All Mine

Week 2 of my Playlist series 🎧💕

Summary: Spencer Reid always liked broken things, but you didn't think you could be fixed. Maybe all you needed was understanding and companionship.

Warnings: slight angst, case details mentioned - misogyny, kidnapping, etc, but no graphic/ explicit details. Hurt/Comfort.

A/N: Tumblr, please let me post haha I've been good, I promise 🙏 This fic is so late because I've been having some technical issues with tumblr and it has greatly annoyed me, so hopefully if you're seeing this it's been fixed? Who knows... Thank you to everyone who has sent in songs so far for the Playlist series, I'll be cresting the playlist today and posting it for everyone to see and use!

Masterlist || Series Playlist

Falling for Spencer Reid wasn't in your plan for the new year, but looking back, it was probably something that was just bound to happen. 

He'd been the first person to show you any kindness after everything you went through, the first person who hadn't put their own rigid horror at your past before their attempts at sympathy. 

You watched the way people recoiled from you as you told them - bluntly, you had to be blunt - what the man in the cabin had done to you. 

He listened to your words, didn't interrupt, didn't quietly shake in anger, and refuse to meet your eyes like your father did, didn't weep for her baby like your mother did. He took your hand as it shook. He held your gaze. 

It was his job to ask questions, but there weren't many left to answer. 

The only reason you were alive was because his team had tracked the string of bodies to your kidnappers home. You were alive because one of his coworkers had put a bullet through his head, ending your nightmare. 

The very idea of love was repulsive to you as you emerged from that basement in the first days of the next year, and you remembered thinking the snow looked fresh and soft. You remembered wanting to lay in it, to wrap it around yourself like a warm blanket and drift into sleep. The cold ground would be as much comfort as you would allow yourself. 

Because after everything, you knew you didn't deserve love. 

You accepted understanding from him, though. 

When the shock wore off, you were awash in all the misery inflicted upon you. You raged, kicked, screamed, broke things, and made people uncomfortable. Nothing would numb the pain of being trapped inside your head, your head still trapped inside that basement, that cage. 

He came to visit you at the hospital. The nurses had given up on you, were content you were physically healing, and that they had technically done their job but not bothered by your deteriorating mental state. Some days, you swore that they pierced your skin in the wrong places purposefully, not even searching for your vein. 

But then he was there, with a book and a chess board, and he'd asked you if you'd ever played before. 

“No. Chess always seemed too…” You swallowed the bile that drowned your lungs and tried again. “Before, it was boring. An old person game, too many rules. Now… He said we shouldn't do things like this. Said we shouldn't cultivate our minds.” 

It was a confession again, but one that took a weight off your shoulders, and not one that pushed it further down. 

“Would you like to learn?” His tone was so soft and awkward, like a teenage boy asking a girl out on a first date, that you almost giggled. 

“I'll be honest and say you'll never beat me, I've played through most board combinations, including a large proportion of the 10^80 theorised checkmate positions, so if you'd rather do something else, that's fine, or I can leave, too, if… you'd… prefer?” 

You had laughed then, a thing that bubbled up from the pit of your stomach and left your shoulders shaking as you gasped for breath doubled over. 

You'd been in hell for six months, and he'd drawn you out of it for a few moments by rambling about chess. 

“Are you a patient person, Doctor Reid?” 

“I think so.”

“Then set up the board and let's play.” 

He beat you every time, obviously, but you enjoyed his small explanations of the moves, and you did improve slightly. 

More than that, you enjoyed his company. It wasn't that you talked extensively In your hospital room, oscillating between your lowest point and somewhere just a rung above that where the snow was falling and the air was fresh, but that he never looked at you the way others did. 

You were discharged and were sad to lose that small glimmer of normality. He'd come twice a week throughout January, and now you were back in your usual shape. You were being discharged, and so that would end. 

You were surprised that he came to pick you up from the hospital the day you left. 

The parents who had looked everywhere for you for half a year hadn't wanted to, and the close friends from before hadn't spared you a thought since reposting your missing poster on their social media pages. 

But the man you played chess with twice a week, the man who'd carried you out of hell himself was there. 

“Ready to go?” You nodded, dumbstruck, and followed as he grabbed your bag. 

You weren't exactly sure where it was you were going, but you followed the man anyway, only a small part of your brain shouting in protest considering the last time you'd been blindly trusting.

He led you back to an apartment with some bare furnishings but a large window and a warm soft blanket covering the bed. It wasn't his, but yours. 

“Your parents are paying for it. They're taking the city to court due to the circumstances. Apparently, there were numerous phone calls to law enforcement that went unnoticed, but the city is looking to settle, so you don't have to worry about rent for a while, maybe ever again. The WiFi is all set up, hot water is working, and so is the heating. The locks are triple enforced, and I'm right down the hall, so if you need-” 

“What?” 

He blinked at you and suddenly, looking sheepish, as if becoming aware that he'd presumed a friendship between the two of you without consulting you first. 

“I live down the hall.” 

You stared at each other for a few moments as you processed his words. He lived down the hall. He'd driven you to your new home, set everything up for you, and he lived down the hall. 

“You're a good man, Spencer Reid.” You whispered, turning away to not let the moment linger anymore than it already had. 

Chess nights became routine. You'd set up the board and play for an hour or two or until you were sick of losing. 

Gradually, though, the nights got longer. He'd arrive just as you were eating a meal, and you'd invite him to join you, or he'd bring along takeaway and you'd eat quietly together, talking about everything and nothing.  

One day, you'd mentioned a film. A popular one, one you'd loved as a child and still rewatched to this day. 

“I've never seen it, is it good?” He'd said. And in your shock, you jumped up and sent half the chessboard flying. 

“Well, it seems that now our game is over, that we have time to give you an education, Doctor Reid.” 

“I have three PhD's-” 

“And still you haven't seen Clueless?” 

You'd pulled him over to the couch he'd picked out for you, loaded up the movie and then invented a new tradition. 

Chess nights and film nights were separate days of the week. So he could always promise to be around for one of them even if he had to miss the other because of work. 

You didn't ask him about his job anymore. He saved people like you, and you didn't need to be thinking about people like you too much.

What they went through, if they survived physically. If they survived in other ways. 

He always visited you first when he returned, though. There would be a knock on your door at some point in the day or night, and he'd let you know he was home safe. 

Another tradition. You'd opened the door to let him in the first time he'd returned from a case after you moved in, and he'd leaned down and wrapped his arms around you. 

You heard the breath of relief, loud and emotional, and hadn't quite realised it had come from you until a few minutes later. Some part of you had thought he wouldn't come back. 

Now, every time he came home, you ran to the door and quietly comforted each other, reminding the other that no matter what happened, you were both there for each other. 

You weren't sure when traditions and movies turned into love or if it had lingered over you the entire time. You didn't think you could love someone right then, your heart broken into small pieces with the torment you'd suffered. 

But it was stitched back together with pieces of him still lodged inside. He was in the very fabric of your being as you became whole again. 

The truth was that you most likely couldn't find love again because there was no room in your heart for anyone else. And you'd never be able to reschedule chess nights to go on dates anyway. 

You weren't sure if Spencer ever figured out how much of hum you carried around with him, how your eyes followed his lips as he ran through decades of memories to give you the fact he thought would please you the most. You weren't sure if he loved you as much as you did him until you were.

You'd agreed to watch one of his movies for a change, agreeing to stop the streak of 80s brat pack classics to watch a black and white war film from Russia with no subtitles. You'd sat together on that couch under blankets you'd bought together months earlier, and he'd pulled you in closer.

“I want to watch the movie and translate at the same time. You should sit here.” He'd pulled you into his lap, letting your back fall against his chest as his lips fell to your ears, and he began to whisper. 

Sitting there so closely, so intimately, was almost torture. Unconsciously, your head tipped back with his words, displaying your neck and shoulders, silently willing his lips to drift even once. His arms wrapped around your waist, and you did your best not to squirm the entire movie, but with your heart beating out of your chest, it was a hopeless cause. 

“Did you enjoy it?” He whispered as the credits rolled, but you hadn't even noticed the movie had ended. It wasn't until the silence that followed his question stretched out notably that you came back to reality. You couldn't answer, in fact. You gaped for a few short moments, hoping something vague but accurate enough would just pop into your mind. 

As you attempted to negotiate yourself out of distraction, you turned your face to his, but he was closer than you thought.

Your noses touched, and your breaths mingled. His arms still wrapped around your waist, and your blankets still anchored you to one another. 

“I wasn't paying attention to the movie, Spencer. I'm sorry.” The words came out of you so fast, yet so quietly that you were surprised yourself how honest you had chosen to be. 

“Why not?” He asked, eyes having drifted sleepily down to gaze at your lips. 

You didn't answer his question but felt your cheeks flush red. You thought about pulling away, moving back, or at least laughing everything off, but you didn't. You stayed there, still like a deer in headlights. 

“Your voice was too distracting,” You forced some of the tension out of your body and let your head fall against his shoulder again, hoping this moment wouldn't end anytime soon. 

“Distracting?” He sounded concerned and shifted in his seat, lifting you up from your happy place in his arms until you were again face to face. “Did I make you uncomfortable?” 

The look on his face was so concerned and focused that you had to pause for a second to catch your breath. He cared about your comfort so much and paid attention to each word that came out of your mouth. He wanted your happiness more than anything in the world. 

“No. I'm never uncomfortable with you, Spencer.” You were back to whispering now, hands floating up to grab his own, fidgeting by his sides. You bought them up to your face and guided his hands to your cheeks, needing to show him just how comfortable you were with him in actions, not just words. Words could be dishonest. Actions were honest. 

His concern melted away as he began stroking your cheek with his thumb, smiling sweetly at you. 

Though you were both content, you'd never been quite this intimate before. So when his thumb swiped over the corner of your lips, your eyes both caught on each other. You could see him weighing up the outcomes in his head, going back and forth between pulling away and pushing in closer.

Slowly and softly, as though he were trying not to startle you, his head moved closer until his lips were on yours. 

It was a quiet kiss. You wouldn't describe it as fireworks, or butterflies, or anything loud and grand and passionate. It was quiet, and it was right. 

He pulled away seconds later, trying to gauge your reaction, but you followed him away and kissed him again. 

When you finally pulled away, it took you a few seconds to realise you'd climbed back into his lap, unconsciously having moved closer to him. You guiltily looked up, waiting to see any discomfort on his features, but to your surprise, he was busy straightening out your hair. 

“I love you, Spencer,” you whispered as he took care of you. He smiled, looking down at you once again, pulling his arms around you to gently lower both of you down to a laying position on your couch. 

“I love you, too,” he said as you held each other and drifted into contented sleep.

[kenzirr]

Y/N sat at her desk, staring blankly at the computer screen. She had been part of the BAU team for a couple of years now, and yet she always felt like an outsider. Aaron Hotchner, the unit chief, never seemed to acknowledge her contributions. While he often praised her colleagues, she never received a simple "good work" from him. The lack of recognition gnawed at her confidence and made her question her place in the team.

Feeling defeated, Y/N decided she needed a break. She approached JJ during lunch, handing her a neatly written request for a leave of absence.

"Hey, JJ. Can you pass this to Hotch for me?" Y/N asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

JJ took the paper, glancing at it briefly. "A leave of absence? Are you okay?"

Y/N forced a smile. "Just not feeling well lately. Need some time to recuperate."

Spencer, who was sitting nearby, looked up from his book. "But you never get sick, Y/N. I don't think I've ever seen you take a sick day."

JJ nodded in agreement. "Remember that time the whole team got the flu? You were the only one who didn't catch it."

Y/N shrugged, trying to downplay their concerns. "Guess I'm overdue, then."

Later that afternoon, JJ approached Aaron's office, knocking lightly on the door before entering. "Hotch, I have something for you," she said, handing him the request form.

Aaron took the paper, his eyes scanning it quickly. His brows furrowed, and he looked up at JJ, clearly upset. "A leave of absence? What's going on with Y/N?"

JJ hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. "She said she's not feeling well. But Spencer pointed out that she never gets sick. I think there's more to it, Hotch."

Aaron leaned back in his chair, deep in thought. "Thank you, JJ. I'll handle it from here."

As JJ left, Aaron dialed Y/N's number, his mind racing. When she answered, he kept his tone professional. "Y/N, it's Hotch. Can you come up to my office?"

Her heart sank. She couldn't fathom what he wanted to discuss. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the worst, and headed to his office.

As she entered, she saw Aaron sitting behind his desk, his expression unreadable. He gestured for her to sit down.

"What's going on, Y/N? JJ mentioned you're taking a leave of absence because you're sick. But you don't seem ill to me," he began, his tone gentle but firm.

Y/N looked down at her hands, struggling to find the right words. "It's not physical sickness, sir. It's... I just feel unappreciated here. You never acknowledge my work. It feels like you don't like me."

Aaron's eyes softened. "Y/N, I never intended to make you feel that way. Your work is exceptional. I apologize if my behavior made you feel unvalued."

Y/N felt a surge of emotion but held back tears. "It's not just about the praise. It's about feeling like I belong here."

Aaron stood up and walked around his desk, leaning against it as he faced her. "I understand. I promise I'll do better. I value your contributions to this team, Y/N. More than you know."

Feeling a mix of relief and confusion, Y/N nodded. "Thank you, sir."

Aaron cleared his throat, looking slightly uncomfortable. "Is there anything specific that made you feel this way? I want to understand so I can improve."

Y/N took a deep breath. "There were moments when you'd commend others for their work, but you'd never acknowledge mine. I started to think I was doing something wrong or that you simply didn't like me."

Aaron shook his head. "That's not true at all. I see the dedication and effort you put into every case. Your insights have been invaluable. If I failed to express that, it's my mistake, not yours."

Y/N looked up, meeting his gaze. "Why, then? Why was it so hard for you to say anything to me?"

Aaron hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "Sometimes, when you care about someone, you find it difficult to act normally around them. I didn't want to let my feelings interfere with my professionalism."

Y/N blinked, taken aback. "Feelings? For me?"

Aaron nodded, his expression earnest. "Yes, Y/N. I admire you more than you know. But I wanted to keep things professional."

Feeling overwhelmed, Y/N stood up quickly. "I need some time to process this. I'll be taking my leave now."

Aaron watched her go, a pang of regret in his chest as she walked out of his office.

---

A few weeks later, Y/N returned to work, feeling somewhat refreshed but still wary of the situation with Aaron. She tried to focus on her tasks, but the memory of their conversation lingered in the back of her mind.

One evening, as they wrapped up for the day, Aaron approached Y/N's desk. "Y/N, can I speak with you for a moment?"

She looked up, slightly nervous. "Of course, sir."

He smiled, a rare but genuine expression. "Would you like to grab dinner with me tonight?"

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. "Dinner? As in... a date?"

Aaron nodded, taking a step closer to her. "Yes. I've realized that the reason I avoided talking to you was because you make me feel something I've never felt before. I want to get to know you better, outside of work."

Y/N felt a flutter of anxiety. "I... I don't know what to say."

Aaron gently placed his hands on her curvy hips, steadying her. "Just say yes. Let me show you how much you mean to me."

Her mind raced, but she nodded slowly. "Okay, Aaron. I'll go."

[talaok]

The perfect bunny

Pairing: Joel Miller x ff!reader

Summary: Christmas with Joel and bunny (for context joel is the boss of a group of criminals in the Boston QZ, and you are his girl)

Warnings: rushed writing, unprotected p in v sex, and a whole lot of fluff

A/n: Happy holidays guys, I love you all so very very much❤️

This is part of a series but it can be read alone. If you wanna read more of Joel and bunny, click here

He had done everything.

Everything you asked for, he had made come true.

Your house was filled with every Christmas decoration he had found in the whole QZ, garlands, mistletoe, little raindeers and Santa clauses overfilled your shelves, and then right there, in the middle of the living room, was the centerpiece... the tree, filled to the brim with ornaments you had put up together, as a family, because that's what you were, you and him, a family.

He even went as far as finding an old cd with christmas songs, all because you mentioned once how much you missed hearing them.

You'll never know what you did to deserve him, to deserve such unconditional, pure love, but what you didn't know is that he felt exactly the same, that the reason he did everything you asked, always, was because you had saved him in more ways he could have ever explained.

And now, now in a world gone to hell, in a world that in many ways wasn't even a world anymore, where people didn't live, but survived, thanks to him, and thanks to you, you were alive again, and you were celebrating Christmas in a way you thought had become unimaginable.

"this is for you" you grinned, handing him his neatly packaged present.

You were sat under the tree as you had insisted, having ignored his protests about his achy back.

"for me?" he asked, his excitement piercing through his tone.

He hadn't gotten a gift in years if he didn't count you, so of course he was happy.

"yes daddy, all for you" You nodded eagerly

"mhh" he hummed, unwrapping it with care, his lips splitting into one of those huge, almost childish smiles he didn't grant himself often enough.

"20,000 Leagues Under the Sea" he breathed, grasping the book as if it was the most precious treasure on this earth "Where did you even find this?"

You chuckled, leaning closer to him "You're not the only one who people answer to around here Miller"

"'s that right?" he smirked, amused

"damn right" you laughed, leaving a quick peck on his lips "You like it?"

"I love it bunny" he answered in a second, still smiling wholeheartedly "I can't believe you remembered, thank you"

"of course I remembered" you grinned, shaking your head before he brought his lips to yours again to show you just how grateful he was, which according to the way he didn't seem in any way willing to lean away, was a whole lot.

You giggled, breaking the kiss

"I've got you something too, baby"

Your eyes widened, every feature of yours brightening with glee.

"you did?" you smiled "I thought the ones you gave me this morning were my gifts" you murmured giddily.

"Not a chance bunny" he shook his head, stroking your cheek "Making you come is just as much your pleasure as it is mine"

You hummed in contentment, biting your bottom lip as he fished something out of his pajama pants, handing you a tiny wrapped something.

You took it in your hands, looking up at him with joy.

"I know the wrapping's not great," he said, a little self-conscious now that he saw what a gorgeous package you'd made him

"What are you talking about?" you reassured him "It's perfect, daddy"

You held your breath as you opened it, remaining immobilized at the sight before you once the paper was all gone.

It was a necklace. A tiny silver necklace, with the cutest bunny hanging at the bottom.

Your eyes filled with tears as you looked up at him, your hands shaking ever so little.

"Joel" you whispered, at a loss for words "This is... this is beautiful" you breathed "H-how did you even get it?"

"had to make just a few people mad, but that's about it" he shrugged, relishing in the amazement on your face.

"A few people?" you couldn't help but laugh, a small tear fleeing your eye "I-I don't know what to say, baby, this is- this is gorgeous"

"you don't have to say anything" he promised, "c'mon, let's go to the mirror so I can put it on you"

And so, with wobbly legs, you followed him to the mirror a few feet away at the entrance of your home.

He stepped beside you, and you handed him the piece, watching as he put it on you with care, leaving a little kiss on your shoulder when he was done.

And of course, it sat perfectly right between your chest, a little piece of him to carry everywhere you went.

"Joel I love it" you whispered "It's-it's perfect"

He hummed contently, his chin on your shoulder as he looked at your reflection

"A perfect bunny for my perfect bunny"

A smile erupted on your face at his words, and you couldn't help but turn around, towards him, towards the love of your life.

"thank you" you murmured, your hands on each side of his face, "thank you so much"

And then again, you were kissing, kissing as if there was no tomorrow, your lungs burning from how much oxygen you were robbing them of.

"I love you bunny" he breathed, earning another kiss

"I love you too, Joel" you promised, looking into his loving eyes for another moment before deciding on something.

"sit down," you said

"sit down?" he frowned, watching you confusedly

"just do it daddy" you laughed, taking his hand and guiding him to the couch

he did as told, his legs spread open and his eyes trained on you.

You could feel his gaze burn a hole in the back of your head as you walked over to the stereo to turn the volume up, a Christmas song flowing through the room better now.

"whatcha doing bunny?" he asked "You sure as hell better not be planning on handcuffing me again"

You laughed at that, and at the memory of the despair in his eyes that night.

"I'm not, daddy, don't worry" You smiled walking up to him until you were right in front of him,

"no, then what are you doing darlin'?"

"I'm thanking you" you said sweetly, your hips starting to gently move in synch with the sound

"'s that right?" he murmured, his eyes falling to your chest as you started unbuttoning the falnnel oh his covering it "what for?"

"mh" you hummed, smiling as you let the shirt fall to the floor "for everything daddy" you explained, slowly turning around and shimmying your shorts off your legs, making a show of bending down to pick them up just to throw them to your left.

he groaned at the sight, and you couldn't help but giggle, spinning back around.

"goddamn bunny" he purred, taking in every inch of your body as you started playing with the straps of your bra, forcing them to fall off your shoulders painfully slowly.

You looked as he watched every movement of yours like a hawk, and you would have teased him further if it wasn't that you were supposed to be thanking him.

So without any further ado, you undid the clasp of your bra, and let it fall to your feet, a soft "fuck" escaping his throat.

Next came your panties.

Your hips were still moving to the music as your fingers seeped through the waistband, gripping at the edge of them and then slowly pulling down, until they pooled at your feet making Joel's cock feel a moment away from bursting.

You smiled, wordlessly placing a hand on his shoulders to prop yourself up as you straddled his lap, his mouth immediately finding yours.

"thank you daddy" you whispered, kissing his cheek "Thank you for the necklace" Another kiss, now on right below his ear "Thank you for the decorations" now down his neck, your breath tickling his skin "for sitting under the tree even if your back hurts" you couldn't resist the urge to chuckle, your hands now trailing to his pants "thank you for the cd" again, another kiss on his neck, before you freed his cock from his pants, and looked up at him "thank you for everything daddy"

His cock slipped into you with ease, and he groaned loudly as you started moving on top of him, a position he didn't get to feel much (by his own volition), and you moaned into his mouth as you kissed him.

"thank you daddy" you continued, your words messy and breathy as you picked up your pace "for everything you do for me everyday" you said, his cock feeling every bit as good as ever "for- for listening to me" you moaned "and taking care of me" his dick was so deep you could feel it in your belly, hitting your g-spot with each of your movements "and for letting me take care of you" you smiled, as he gripped your waist, savoring the sight before him "t-thank you so much daddy" you breathed, embarrassingly enough slowing down, your thighs on fire.

"you're tired" he murmured with amusement

"no 'm not" You shook your head, trying to pick up your pace and failing miserably

"no?" he asked, smirking like a bastard

"no" you denied again, smiling a little at your obvious lie

"lay down bunny" he tried to persuade you

"no way" you protested "I'm supposed to be treating you daddy, to be thanking you"

"trust me this pussy of yours is enough of a thank you for a million lives"

"daddy..." you pouted, trying to convince him

"what if I just help out a bit, hm?" he asked, watching your eyes brighten

"just a bit" you accepted, and in a moment, he was thrusting up into you, and only a moment later, you were moaning loudly at the feeling, the thought of doing all the work well out the window.

"thank you daddy" you cried, "I love you so much" you promised, your orgasm taking over you

"thank you babygirl" he grunted "for being in my life" he said, his words falling into your gaped mouth "for making everything better"

"for being you" he breathed, watching as you came all over his cock "for being the best thing that ever happened to me, bunny"

[the-nameless-poet]

Written Mine On My Upper Thigh

Draco Malfoy X fem!reader

Summery : Your Boyfriend Draco wants to get a tattoo and you want one too.

Draco enters the living room where his girlfriend is lounging on the couch with a book in her hands and some snacks. He gently sits down on the floor beside your leg and puts it on his shoulders and gives your thigh a sweet kiss.

"Hey darling." He speaks gently while pressing another kiss on your thigh. This little game of affection is making your heart flutter with heaving desires. Desires similar to the ones described in the book that had already left your brain in a spiral of fantasies that were unspeakable.

"Hey Love." You respond by putting your book down and lightly scratching his head. The silver strands gleaming against the skin of your fingers as your boyfriend hums with delight.

"I was thinking..." He starts while leaving a trail of kisses from your calf upto your thighs and then stops to look up into your eyes, your iris meeting with his stormy blue ones with a passionate gleam.

"What were you thinking, my love?" You encourage him to complete his thoughts, your voice a bit shaky. Not noticeable. But you could feel it on your lips, the shivers that came up from your throat and made the words quiver. Even after all this time you could swear that you fell for your Draco Malfoy everyday, all over again. The tattoo on your collarbone was the permanent proof of your ever growing love for him.

"You know how you have the tattoo of Draco constellation on your collarbone..." His hesitation was clear in his voice; you gently caressed his head as to encourage him to speak further while nodding.

"I want one tattoo of the constellation of your star sign on my arm. The scars from the dark mark are still visible and I.... I-It reminds me of the past time when I look at it and I wish to replace those memories with the ones that help me through my dark times." He laid his head on your thigh, he looked like the child he once was, afraid to ask for something he didn't deserve.

"Darling? Are you sure about it? I don't mind that at all but...are you sure...?" You try your best to show your concerns in a way that doesn't sound too cruel or act like a reminiscent of the time that he went through. You remember how he was afraid of anyone even touching his arm, the one that once held the dark mark one it. You remember coaxing him into atleast letting you touch it. He was hesitant but you were also the only person he trusted at that time. So after some persuading he let you.

And the first time you touched his dark mark was with your lips, a gentle kiss, a secluded remedy, that brought him back to light. He was shocked at first to see you commit, what was a crime in his eyes, a fatal action that might lead you to your end but soon he felt the gratification it gifted. And that was the day Draco Malfoy wrote his whole existence to your name.

"Love I've wanted this for so long. I've thought about it and it doesn't scare me as much as it used to. It's a distant memory. But its still there and I want to erase it and adorn that skin with the one that I'd dream of even after I die. Also I know you'd kiss it to make it better. So not afraid of it much." He chuckled at the end and kissed your lips while sitting on his knees, right infront of your face. You hummed at the warmth of his lips on yours and pulled back with a smile.

His words left a gibberish, jumbled mind for you to deal with. Just the thought that he would dream about you even after he dies, kills you so gently that you'd welcome death with open arms. He was yours. Forever. In his dreams, in his reality, in his death and in his life; he was yours the same was you were his.

"I'll call the muggle tattoo parlor and book an appointment for two." You said and kissed him passionately.

He pulled back with a confused look.

"For two?" You nodded and smiled at his conflicted face. You caressed his eyebrows to make him lose his frown and spoke,

"I want a new one too. Actually I'm gonna need your help for it." His face quickly lit up. Which made you giggle.

You quickly made the appointment for Sunday.

-------------------------------------------------

On Sunday, both you and Draco went to the tattoo parlor and gave the tattoo artist your ideas.

But first for your tattoo you needed Draco's help.

"Draco, I need you to write 'mine' on my upper thigh." You've been wanting to do this for a long time. Ever since you found out about Draco's obsession with your thighs, you wanted to do something about it so it would remind you of his possesive nature towards your thighs. How he puts a hand on one of them underneath the table, or how he squeezes them, how he likes to leave noticable love marks on them, how he loves to kiss them and how he loves to slap them while he made love to you. All of these things made your core wither with desire and you little minx wanted a permanent reminder of your boyfriend's affections.

And he was happy to follow your orders and in his best handwriting, he wrote 'Mine' on your left upper thigh and gave a long kiss to your inner thigh that left you wanting more.

After a while you both got your tattoos. The one on his arm looked as if it shone against his skin and the one on your thigh reflected possesion and your desire towards that obsession. Truth to be told, you couldn't hide the fact that you loved your boyfriend being overly obsessed with your thighs. Afterall you're just a girl. And he was a god when it came to loving you.

And when your tattoos were finally healed, both of you left little red and purple reminiscent of your affection. Your love for eachother was etched into your skin forevermore. And the one that was etched into your soul won't ever fade, Not even after being decayed into mere atoms. The only truth that could be fathomed was that It would shine for the eternity.

[kiiwiigii]

Misunderstandings

Alec x Fem! Reader

Summary: Reader is under the impression that her mate, Alec, wants nothing to do with her. He decides to prove her wrong.

Warnings:

Smutty, smut, smut, smut

Blood kink

Dom/Sub vibes

Alec speaking in Italian

I suck at summaries.

Word Count: 3,499

A/N: Requested by the ever lovely @rosedpetal Alec isn't as dark as I wanted him to be, but there's always next time. *wink, wink*

I remember the moment our eyes met. That luscious pull, full of want and desire. A red string of fate, pulling and pulling until finally, we were right there before each other. I had heard of him, of course. The witch twins had quite the reputation in the vampire world, just how they liked to keep it. 

He simply stared, slightly taken aback and just as surprised as I was. To top it off, we were on opposite sides of what could have easily become a battlefield. I had been called in as a witness for the Cullens. I was somewhat of an anomaly. Only one of three known human and vampire hybrids, including Bella and Edward's child.  

When Aro had extended his hand, it was all over. I was kindly invited to stay in Voltera, with Alec. Everyone was well aware of the fact that the invitation was more of an order, and I accepted. I had wanted to be near him anyways. Who wouldn't want to be near their mate? 

Well, apparently mine. 

I had been here for nearly three months, and he avoided me like the plague. 

When we did speak, our conversations were short and stilted, and he usually wore a pained expression.  

And then I heard the conversation. 

I had been looking through the books on the upper floor of the library, hoping that considering all the books here, there was a section with modern day thrillers. I needed something to keep me sane. 

I heard his voice from below. 

"Master Marcus?" 

"Alec." Marcus answered, voice soft. 

"Is there any way to change it?" 

I backed away from the railing slowly, pressing my back into the shelves. I could still see them both from my position, their silhouettes highlighted by the large fire in the center of the library. 

"This is the second time you have asked me this, Alec." There was a warning in Marcus' tone that I had never heard before. "My answer has not changed." 

"But she's part human!" Alec growled. 

They were talking about me. I clasped my hands over my mouth in an effort to keep quiet, but I couldn't stop the tears. My mate didn't want me. 

Marcus stood suddenly. "Be happy that you have a mate at all, boy." 

Alec suddenly stiffened and looked right at me. Perhaps he smelled my tears, or maybe he finally heard the slow beat of my heart. A flurry of emotions flitted across his face, but I didn't bother to see what he landed on. Instead, I fled, for once using my vampiric speed to seek refuge in my room. 

I've been hiding here for a week now. I think it's been a week; I was already losing track of time. 

"Y/N?" There was a knock at the door, following the sound of Demetri's voice filtering through. 

"Yes?" 

"You're not naked, are you?" 

The door opened slowly, and Demetri peeked his head in with a cheeky grin, before frowning as he took in the sight of me. I was sure I looked a hot mess, bundled up in a nest of comforters on the floor next to my bookshelves. 

"Hey 'Metri." I sat up, giving him a small smile. 

"Hey, love." He walked over before sitting on his haunches net to me. "Everyone is worried about you. No one's seen you in a week." 

"'M fine." 

He gave me a dubious look and I rolled my eyes and wrapped myself back up in my covers, picking up the book I'd discarded. "I'm fine, Demetri." 

"When was the last time you ate?" 

I paused, thinking and then shrugged. I couldn't remember. I just ate when I felt hungry.  

"Well, we can't very well have you starve. Come on." He stood up and held out a hand. 

"I'm fine, Demetri." 

"And you're a liar, now come on." 

I plopped down in my little nest out of frustration, purposely burrowing myself deeper into the covers. 

"You can't make me." 

"Wow, for someone who's- what? Sixty years old? You're such a child." 

I glared up at him. 

"I'm an adult and can take care of myself." 

"Demetri, what are you doing with my mate?" 

Demetri's back went ramrod straight and I immediately hid under the covers. Okay, maybe I was acting a little bit like a child. I hadn't spoken with Alec since the library incident, and I wasn't very keen to talk to him now. I peeked out from under the covers a little. 

"I'm making sure that Y/N is taken care of." Demetri's voice was neutral, but I could hear the anger lying just underneath. "Something you have been failing to do since she arrived." 

I gasped, wide-eyed. Demetri was treading on very thin ice. I couldn't imagine Alec taking too kindly to being challenged. Alec was quiet for a long moment, tense as he looked at Demetri. 

"I can admit when I am in the wrong."  

The words came haltingly, and the look on Alec's face was caught somewhere between a chastised schoolboy and sucking on a lemon. 

"Thank you for taking care of her in my absence. Please leave, I can take over from here." 

Demetri nodded his head, and casting one last concerned look in my direction, he left. 

Alec looked at me, and I was surprised to see a look of concern on his own face. His next comment took me by surprise. 

"Why are you on the floor, when you have a bed?" 

"I'm aware I have a perfectly good bed. I just prefer the floor." 

"What about the couch?" 

"Not the same." 

"That cannot be comfortable for you." 

"Since when did you care about my comfort?" I snapped. "I'm just a mutt remember?"  

Alec's eyes darkened.  

"Watch your tone girl. You may be my mate, but I will not tolerate disrespect, even from you." 

My shoulders deflated, hiding my face in my hands. "I think it'd be best for me to just leave." 

"No." He followed Demetri's earlier move, and sat down on his haunches, arms resting on his knees. 

"No?" I glared at him. 

"You belong to me. You are my mate, and it is safer for you to be here." 

"Excuse me?? You've made it clear that you don't want anything to do with me." 

"It is simply because you are part human." 

"Simply? Simply? News flash, Alec. You were once a human too!" 

I found myself suddenly on my back, him hovering above me, with his arms caging me in. His eyes turned pitch black.  

"I am all too aware of what I once was." He hissed. 

"I- I can't change what I am." I could feel the tears starting to form and spill over. "If I could, if it would get you to accept me, then I would. But I shouldn't have to." 

Alec jerked back slightly, wide-eyed. 

"You are right." He pressed his forehead to mine. "And if I was a better man, I would not have wished for it." 

He began licking away at my tears and I froze, barely daring to breathe. 

"What- what are you doing?" 

"Taking care of my mate. And you are mine. I will not let you go, and I will make sure that you are taken care of just as the status the mate of an elite guard deserves." I shivered when he finished, giving a small, chaste kiss to my forehead. "It seems that I have much to make up for."  

Alec kissed me then. Slow and soft, pulling me out from the cocoon and sweeping me up to sit on the little couch in my sitting area. I felt oddly exposed as he pulled me in to straddle him, his back leaning into the soft cushions. 

"And you- you accept me? Just like that?" I couldn't disguise the anger in my voice, a little thrown off by our new position but still pissed off. 

There was a long silence as he searched for the proper words. 

"That day, in the library… I had a long talk with Master Marcus. Are you aware of his story?" 

I nodded. If there was something I had learned during my first few short months here, it was that Demetri and Felix were like a group of gossiping teenage girls. 

"Then you can understand his demeanor. He misses her every day, and I know that I have neglected you and treated you rather…" 

"Horribly?" I finished for him, and he smiled. 

"I think horrible is an understatement." 

"I think I must agree." I grumbled. 

He let out a chuckle before letting his eyes roam over me again. "While I hold Master Marcus in high respect, I do not wish to be like him. I do not want to make the mistake of taking you for granted. You were made for me, and I you. The Fates do not make mistakes." 

"Despite my being what I am?"  

I found that hard to believe. 

"Yes." He said quietly, but this time he didn't look me in the eyes. 

I tensed around him, and I felt his grip tighten on my waist. 

He was lying, but perhaps not for the reason I thought. My eyes widened in realization, and I relaxed against him. 

"You know what I think?" I hummed quietly. 

He looked at me from under his lashes, raising his brow ever so slightly, eyes dark with challenge. I should probably tread carefully but fuck it. I let a shaky hand run through his hair and he tilted his head back to look at me, exposing his throat. I let my other hand cup his neck, running my thumb along his jawline.  

"I think that maybe… you're scared. And you have no idea how to handle it. That's what you ended up talking with Master Marcus about, isn't it? Because I'm weaker than a full-fledged vampire. Am I right? You think I can't protect myself." 

Boom. Judging from the look in his eyes and the surprise on his face I had hit the nail on the head. 

"You are oddly perceptive." 

"Sometimes." 

He paused again. 

"I do not wish to lose you. I am sure word has already gotten out that one of the witch twins has a mate. I have basically painted a target on your back." 

"One that I am more than willing to wear, so long as you never treat me like this again." 

He relaxed and began to let his hands wander in light caresses, leaning in to give me another kiss, this one just as soft as the last. 

"Never again." 

"Good." 

I could feel my heart swell. 

"I have missed your presence." He whispered, his lips barely grazing mine. "I have missed seeing you in the castle." Kiss. "Seeing your beautiful face looking around in wonder." Kiss. "Seeing you laugh." Kiss. "And I have missed you. You have no idea how often I have imagined you here." Kiss. "In my arms." Kiss. "And even in my bed." Kiss.  

Woah, woah, woah. What? 

He grinned darkly at the look on my face. "Oh yes, darling. I have imagined you in my bed from the very beginning. In more positions than you could possibly imagine." 

Had I not been pretty much immortal I think I would have died.  

"I have imagined all of the different ways to claim you, and make sure that everyone knows you are mine." He whispered in my ear, nipping at my earlobe before sucking on it softly. 

This is not where I pictured today going. I wriggled a little bit, feeling my nipples harden almost painfully. This was not fair. 

"Careful, love." His voice was strained, and I felt him grow hard beneath me. 

"You started it." I nearly squeaked. 

"And I would like to finish it." 

His hands were cold against my midsection, and I was suddenly very, very aware of the fact that I was dressed only in an oversized t-shirt and panties. He kept his eyes trained on my face, watching for every little reaction. 

"If you don't want this, I can stop." He breathed, rubbing slow circles on my waist with his thumbs. 

"Trying to come up with excuses, Alec?" 

For whatever God forsaken reason I felt like needling him and pushing his buttons. A part of the back of my brain told me that was really fucking dumb, but I wanted to see what he would do. 

He growled and squeezed my waist in warning. 

"I think I recall telling you to watch yourself earlier." 

Oh my.  

"You said to watch my tone." I raised a challenging brow. 

His hands dug into my waist now, and I was certain I would have bruises there in the morning. 

"Amore." Another growl of warning. 

I simply leaned in to kiss him, happy to finally have my mate here with me. Knowing that he didn’t really hate me but wanted to keep me safe. He was just being a dumbass about it. 

He let out a little groan as our lips met. I let my kisses roam downwards, over his cheek and to his neck, nipping and licking. His hands drifted up, thumbing over my nipples before giving them a rather hard pinch. I sucked in a harsh breath, leaning on his shoulder and grinding my hips downward. He let out a pleasured hiss, giving my nipples another pinch and smoothing his thumbs over them. 

"Arms up." He demanded. 

I did as he asked, and he pulled off my shirt. I immediately crossed my arms over my ample bosom, suddenly self-conscious.  

"Hands behind your back, darling." 

I looked at him startled. "What?" 

"I will not have you hiding from me, nor will I repeat myself." 

My heart leapt at his words, gripping my arms tighter. 

"Sorry, it's just…" 

He frowned and slowly took my hands, lowering them down until I was completely exposed from the waist up. 

"You are not to be ashamed, and I will not stand for it. You are my mate. You are stunning." He said softly. 

He ran his hands over my skin again, his lips following right behind with a lightness that I almost couldn't detect. And not in a sexual way, although I could still feel his hardness underneath me, but in a reverent way. Worshipping. He cupped the back of my neck and brought me in for another kiss, deeper this time. 

"Now love, hands behind your back. I will not tell you again." He rasped, one hand sliding around the front of my neck and the other brushing against one of my nipples. 

He gave my neck a light squeeze in warning, his thumb brushing over my jugular. This time I did as I was told, and his lips twisted into a grin that could rival the devil's. 

"Good girl." 

I sucked in a breath. Oh fuck.  

He kept watching me. "Are you okay?" 

I nodded, a little dazed. 

"You have to say it aloud, Y/N." 

"Yes." I breathed. 

"If we need to stop at any point, tell me." 

"Okay." 

"You are a fast learner, aren't you?" He leaned in, close to my ear. "I like that." 

His hand left my throat, and he went back to cupping my breasts, kneading them softly before he bent his head and gave one a long lick, right over the nipple. Then he proceeded to suck one into his mouth, teeth edging along the sides. 

"Alec." I moaned, throwing my head back. 

I couldn't help it when my hips started grinding, but Alec immediately put a stop to that. 

"The only pleasure you will get, is what I allow you to have." 

A thrill went through me, and I opened my mouth to protest but it came out as a whine instead when he kissed me, tongue running along my lip and slipping past into my warm mouth. I then let out a shocked moan when his hands traveled further south, slipping his fingers into my panties and coming to rest on my soaked mound.  

He rubbed teasingly, fingers finding my clit. Round and round and round. I squirmed against him, obscenely wet noises coming from below as he slipped two fingers inside me. His fingers began pumping in and out of me, combined with rubbing my clit, I could barely stand it. 

Flushed, I pulled back a little, panting against his lips. 

"Please." I whined. 

"Please what?" 

"Alec!" 

"I want to hear you say it, Y/N." 

"Alec. Please. Fuck. Me." 

His eyes dilated at the sound of his name.  

Before I could fully comprehend what was happening, I could hear the sound of something ripping, and realized that my panties were torn to shreds and dangling precariously from my hips. My warm, wet heat was exposed to the cool air, and his pants were undone, his cock out, with precum already leaking out of the tip. I panted like a whore in heat at the sight of him, eyes glazed and desperate. 

He brushed his cock through my slick folds, completely in control. Then he slowly lowered me, my tight folds giving way and I let out a long moan of pleasure when he bottomed out. He was huge. I wasn't sure how he even managed to fit, or how he was going to be able to move. His arms circled around me, grasping my backside firmly. 

"You managed to take my cock like a good girl. Now let's see how well you handle it." 

"Wait, wait!" 

He paused, looking up at me with concern. 

"Can- can I move my hands now?" I pleaded. 

He smirked. "No." 

He thrusted his hips up without warning and I gave a shriek of pleasure. His pace was fairly brutal, and I loved every second of it. He kept sucking and licking at my neck, leaving a trail of dark, bruising love bites, and my nipples scrapped against his shirt. The pleasure was almost too overwhelming, it made the walls of my pussy clench around him. 

"That's a good girl. So tight for me." He groaned into my neck. "How does it feel, taking my cock? To have me stretching you out?" 

Oh fuuuuuck. 

Alec was a dirty talker and I fucking loved it. 

He pounded into me without mercy, and I could start to feel that delicious heat building down low. 

"Yes. Yes. Yes." 

I didn't realize that I had been chanting aloud until Alec let out a dark chuckle. 

"Please." I begged. 

He seemed to break. 

"Hang on to me." 

My hands immediately went to grab his shoulders, clutching at his shirt. I was pretty sure I heard a rip, but I was too lost in the sensation of being, you know, fucked out of my mind. One of his hands slipped down low again, his deft fingers circling my clit. 

"Vieni per me, tesoro." He then proceeded to bite into my neck, right in the dip where it met my shoulder, and the sharp pain sent a wave of pleasure through me. 

Mixing with the pleasure of his cock and the stimulation of my clit it was enough to send me crashing over the edge. I came hard, Alec's mouth muffling my own, swallowing my cries. His hands tangled in my hair, giving it a light pull. I could taste my blood in his mouth, and I found that I liked it. I swiped my tongue over his lips to get more. 

Alec let out a surprised gasp, pulling back, his hips slowing down to shallow thrusts. His face was smeared with a little of my blood, and I leaned back in, giving him a lick before delving back into his mouth with a kiss, enjoying the taste of him and my blood mixed. 

"Fuck." He groaned against my lips. 

I dared to take a bit of control and ground down hard, making sure to squeeze the walls of my pussy to the point where he almost couldn't move. 

"Fuck!"  

Alec went rigid and then spasmed as he came. 

We stayed like that, breathing hard for a moment, before he finally pulled out of me with an obscenely wet popping noise. I blushed and he simply gave me a grin. An actual grin instead of the devilish one I had come to know. 

"Are you okay?" He asked and I nodded quickly, practically glowing with happiness. 

"Words, amore." 

I giggled. "Yes, love. More than okay." 

"Good, because I'm ready to have you moaning my name again." He whispered, licking away the blood I had smeared on my own face. "Preferably in my bed." 

{Masterlist} // {Request Guidelines}

Translations (Provided via Google): Vieni per me, tesoro.: Come for me, darling. Amore: Love

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[alloftheimaginesblog]

nose in a book {bucky barnes}

plot: the coffee shop you and bucky frequent is also a library and every week, you have your nose in a new book.

request by sunflowerkitten2: a coffee shop meet-cute

character: reader x bucky barnes

In all of his years, Bucky Barnes had been to hundreds of coffee shops and had drank thousands of crappy cups of coffee but recently, he'd began to drink at this coffee shop. It was a small shop, half library half coffee shop with warm lighting and a nostalgic musky smell from the old books that adorned the shelves. There was a certain charm to it but the coffee certainly wasn't it. The coffee was actually pretty awful but there was a reason that Bucky kept coming back to this one.

The reason was you.

Each time Bucky came into the small shop, there you sat same time every Saturday morning, same time but always with a different book in your hand. From the first time Bucky entered that coffee shop, he was intrigued by you.

You were usually too concentrated on the book to look up at him when the chime of the door went as he walked in. Sometimes you caught each other's eye and exchanged friendly smiles but that was rare.

Bucky had never approached you, he wanted to but he wasn't that confident around asking beautiful people out anymore. He had changed a lot since the forties. Today though, the book you held in your hands was familiar to him... in fact it was one of his favourites; The Hobbit.

"You know," he said gently as he approached you, voice soft so's not to scare you, "I was there when they first printed that book."

With the comment, you expected it to be attached to a ninety year old man (which he was but you didn't know that yet) and instead you were met with the blue eyes of a very handsome thirty something year old. You laughed, "That's a rubbish pick up line," you teased.

Bucky frowned, "Not a pick up line, doll," he said, "I was actually there. 1937. What a year."

You blinked at him, insanely confused, before your foot pushed out the chair across from me, "Okay, I gotta hear this... How?"

He sat with a smile, reaching his hand across the table to shake yours, "Bucky Barnes, ma'am. Pleasure to meet you." Bucky... Barnes. That name sounded familiar.

Then it clicked.

"Oh!" You exclaimed with a little surprise as your shook his glove clad hand, "Oh my god, you look so good for your age." You hadn't meant to say that, it sounded pretty fucking weird but Bucky's face split into a wide grin. You were amusing. Usually, when people realised who Bucky was they recoiled with fear or at the very least they'd be apprehensive to talk to a ninety something assassin but you... you looked intrigued? He laughed, thanking you for the compliment that slipped out.

"Have you read Lord of the Rings?" You asked him with slightly warm cheeks.

It was his turn to be confused, "I don't think I've ever heard of them."

"Oh my god!" You gasped, "So obviously this is the Hobbit and this is a prequel to The Lord of the Rings which is hands down one of the best series ever written. They made movies of them too! It follows Bilbo's nephew, Frodo and his quest to destroy the Ring."

Bucky vaguely recalled Stark talking about movies that sounded similar to that title, "Are they any good?" He asked, genuinely curious, "To be honest, I've not seen many movies."

"They're so good. They made Hobbit movies too. Three."

He frowned, "Three movies? Did two more Hobbit books come out then?"

You shook your head, explaining that it was three movies centred around the one book, "I really liked them," you shrugged, "but is that because I just absolutely love the Hobbit? Who knows?"

As you and Bucky continued to chat you realised a very important fact, "I just realised I never told you my name," you said stopping mid sentence, "I'm (y/n). It's so nice to meet you, Bucky."

Bucky grinned, "Trust me, doll, pleasure's all mine... Now, can I buy you another cup of coffee?"

[scarletwinterxx]

I choose you and me religiously - joshua hong imagine

istg every love song i hear, he's the only one i can think of. i'm in my joshua brain rot era and i'm loving every second of it😭😭

for my other joshua fics, check them here

if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

"This is so not fair"

"What?" your boyfriend blinks back at you with his doe eyes, knowing full well what this does to you

"You can't use that every time you're trying to win, Josh" you grumble, hitting him playfully with a pillow. He blocks it with his arm, laughing at your annoyed but cute expression, clearly he's having more fun than you.

There are so many things Joshua does that makes your knees go weak. The moment you met him you knew you were in deep deep trouble. It was hard not to get swayed while staring in his eyes when they say so much.

Even before, you can never keep eye contact with him because if you do you'd end up a blushing mess. His eyes confessed to you first, and you stared right back getting lost along side him.

Your relationship with him is like those cliche movies and cute scenes in books you only dreamt of happening to you, then along came him and made those into reality.

Like how can you not think he's the cutest human ever when he made a beaded bracelet with his number on it and gave it to you because he was too shy and too much of a gentleman to ask, how he held pinkies with you on your first date while walking around the park, or how he giggled (yes, this man straight up giggled) the first time you kissed.

Every thing he does is an arrow shot straight to your heart. He might not be aware of it but he got you on the palm of his hand. You can't even argue with him because the moment you see his sad eyes and pouty lips, you're already waiving the white flag.

You thought it would be scary for someone to have this much power over you, but not Joshua. He's honest, gentle and kind through and through. In a world of boys, he really is the gentleman.

He never did anything to make you feel uncomfortable or angry or upset, sure there are little arguments here and there but he will never let a day end without making sure you two are okay.

Most often you would say he's too kind for this world, all you get is a shake of his head and a smile. It's just who is he is. Not a single mean bone in his body. You would fight the world for him, always his number one defender and he loves that about you.

Why would he care if the world was mean to him when he got you on his side?

That's all that matters to him anyways.

"Do you ever get angry?" you ask

"Of course, I do" he answer with a chuckle, prompting you to raise your brow at him

"I've never seen you angry, is that a bad sign? They say you should see your partner angry to see that side of them or whatnot"

"I just never find any reason to be. I feel upset, I do. But then I resolve it. It takes too much energy to be angry, life's too short for that don't you think"

"Okay but like what if someone insults you?" you prod

"Do they know me?" he asks back "Just hypothetically"

"But like what's the scenario" "Oh come on, indulge me for a moment will you" you say, getting annoyed at your boyfriend but he just laughs. You always look cute when he annoys you, wishing he could keep you in his pocket all the time.

"Okay let's change it then, let's say we're walking out at night and someone says something about me-" "Well that's different, darling. They won't even finish the sentence, I'm already walking up to them" he cuts you off, even though it's just a made up scenario he already feels a bit mad at the thought of someone disrespecting you

"And what? Fight them?"

He doesn't say anything for a while, staring back at you like he's making you read his mind. Then he pulls you by the arm until you're cuddled against him.

"They can hurt me any way they want, I can handle that. But you, I'd lose my mind if anything happens to you. I can't even imagine it, it's making me mad"

Looking up at him, you see the change in his expression "Oh love, I didn't mean to upset you. Sorry" you mumble, smoothing the crease in between his brows

"No need to be sorry, it's the truth. I treat you with nothing but love and respect, I can't have some stranger treat you any less"

Your lips immediately form a pout when you hear his words. Your sweet sweet boy.

"You really love me huh" you whisper

He looks down at you, his expression quickly changes when he sees your cheeks squished against his chest and the cute pout on your lips. Like a little cute dumpling.

Leaning down to give your cheek a few pecks, "A little bit more than how much you love me"

You laugh at that, you never doubted your feelings about him. You know you love him so much, every single cell in your body knows that. "Sounds impossble"

"Oh you disagree? Lovely, we can sit here all day and talk about all the things I love about you. I can go on and on and on"

"Okay okay fine I get it, I thought you don't like arguing" you tease him

"I like arguing with you like this because I know I'll win"

"Okay Mr. Confident"

"I'm only telling the truth. Look me in the eyes and tell me I'm wrong" this time he's he one teasing, knowing full well you're weak for his stare

"Not fair, you can look at me and I'd say yes to anything"

"Anything?"

You pinch his side, earning a yelp and a laugh from your boyfriend. Then he hugs you again, holding your hand his time so you don't get any ideas.

"Want to know something? I feel the same, the moment you looked at me I knew I was going to be yours for the rest of this lifetime" he whispers

He tucks your hair behind your ears to see you eyes more, leaning down again to give your nose a peck "You had me the moment we met"

You smile at him before stretching your head to meet your lips with his, feeling him smile during the kiss. You don't say anything, you just let him feel all the emotions that are too big for any word in any language.

Exchanging I love you's through kisses.

[insilanar]

Any lestappen fic rec to share ? 😣 Any favourite author on ao3! I need some!

Hi anon 😘 Of course! In fact I've actually been working on a personal fic rec, so I'm glad I get to share it with you!

Here you go, hope you enjoy <3

Lestappen fic rec

Short-ish fics 🩵

control systems a College AU by @itsgoingdutchin2021 | 1.2 k

Summary:

Due to an unfortunate encounter in their freshman year, both Charles and Max hate each other. Then they are assigned a group project.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

<3

your hands are cold a High School AU by dhufflebee | 3.9 k

Summary:

“I feel like this event should really be called ‘Frosty Fusion’ or something like that.”“That is, of course, incredibly stupid.”“Hey!”“It doesn’t mean that ‘Snowmen Competition’ isn’t the most boring name ever, though.”OR: long-time friends and rivals Charles and Max hail from neighboring schools, and brave the biting cold, the challenges of snow sculpture, and their own buried feelings

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

<3

Kiss It Goodbye (Your Little Panic Attack) F1 Fic by @celientjeee | 5.1 k

Summary:

‘What- How did you do that?’ Charles asked, he still felt a bit shaken and hot, but the tingling had disappeared.Max smiled at him and let his hands drop away from Charles’ cheeks.‘I once read that holding your breath could stop a panic attack and when I kissed you, you held your breath.’‘I did?’ Charles winced at how high his voice sounded. OR: Charles gets a panic attack and Max helps him (more than once)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

<3

Fics between 10 k and 20 k 🧡

Cheating at Bingo and Other Christmas Traditions a Cozy Winter AU by @wanderingblindly | 12.4 k

Summary:

"You know, there’s a very nice, very handsome young man in my neighborhood –” She starts back up, flagging down their waiter for another glass of wine.“Absolutely not,” He cuts her off with a dismissive wave of the hand. “Next topic.”“So you’re too good for him, is that it?” She sounds defensive, but her tone still has a mocking edge to it – emphasized by the quirk of her brows.Hardly holding back a groan, Charles tries to think of a way out of this. She’s like a cat, batting at him until he gives up, rolls over, and plays dead. “That’s not – I’m just busy, and it’s –” OR: Hallmark style fluff featuring an irritated Charles, a well-meaning Max, and the grandma that just wants them to kiss

Rating: General Audiences

<3

Golden Hour a Uni AU by Chariots4 | 13.2 k

Summary:

Max is a great roommate. So great that when Lando asks him to be part of a music video he’s filming he does so, without asking what it will be about.Turns out he will have to model with no other than Charles Leclerc. As lovers. The two men’s desire to not be outdone by the other takes the whole thing to new levels.

Rating: Explicit

-> This is also a personal favorite of mine since it was my first ever Formula 1 RPF fic and honestly, it's written amazingly well!👌

<3

oui chef a Chef AU by @sunshineyoujustwait | 16.2 k

Summary:

There’s someone standing in his kitchen.He looks young, maybe close to Max’s age, with messy dark brown hair that’s pulled back from his face by a red bandana, and he’s leaning against the kitchen counter like he’s supposed to be here.Max’s first rather unhelpful thought is; fuck, he’s gorgeous. His second, more reasonable thought is;“Who the fuck are you?”“Charles Leclerc,” the man smiles. It's a little bit dazzling and Max is not at all distracted by it. He extends his hand for Max to shake. “I’m your new executive sous chef.” OR: Max is very happy with his life, thank you very much. He has his restaurant, his team, and two Michelin stars at the age of 24. He definitely does not need some pretentious Monegasque chef coming in and throwing everything into chaos.Except, maybe he does.

Rating: General Audiences

<3

you got me a College AU by @fueledbyremembering | 16.6 k

Summary:

When Max looks up he stares into pretty green eyes behind black rimmed glasses. His hand is still blindly feeling around to find the books—his brain lagging—as he stares at the guy from last night. He straightens up and Max follows, staring dumbly as he holds out the books for Max to take.“Thanks,” Max says, feeling like an idiot as he takes the books, their fingers brushing for a split second. This was not how he wanted to meet again. “Again, I’m so sorry.”The guy smiles and Max thinks he might just die a little when he notices he has dimples. Of course he has dimples. OR: Max falls head over heels for the cute guy at a college party and he can't stop thinking about him (aka the lestappen college au nobody needs).

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

<3

Fics above 30 k ❤

Late night devil put your hands on me a Thief/Detective AU by @f1-giuki | 42.1 k

Summary:

"Do you want to know what is more incredible?" Max asks, staring at Charles' full and round pecs without any shame. "What?" Charles asks, enjoying how Max's cheeks get redder and redder as he licks clean the fork. "Stealing the Nine Pieces of Eight, with me," Max says and Charles drops his fork in the plate. "The Nine pieces of eight? Isn't that like a legend? The owner of those artworks is unknown…" The Monegasque asks, furrowing his brows. Max grins and rolls his eyes. "I know a guy..." Max says, pulling Charles close by the elastic band of his boxers. OR: World-class thief Max Verstappen asks Interpol Detective Charles Leclerc out on a date (to put on the world's most complicated heist ever conceived) but things never go as planned.

Rating: Mature

<3

To Your Heart’s Content a Mafia AU by @cornerofacry | 119.4 k

Summary:

Max pinched the bridge of his nose as he went into the car. Before his chauffeur could close the door, however, Daniel leant in, having rushed from the bar’s entrance."I forgot to tell you…" the Australian begun, his face serious and grave.Max gritted his teeth, silently nodding for the man to continue. He couldn’t stand much more. He wanted to scream at the entire world. To run home and hide and force some sense down his own throat.To put himself back together."I left a- a gift at your house. For your birthday… I planned it long ago, before-""Alright," Max cut him, short and harsh. OR: Charles, a high end prostitute, finds himself in the arms of a man who really, really, cares for him, despite the gun on his nightstand.

Rating: Explicit

<3

Favorite lestappen authors 💕

NovaCloud, Richardmarie75, WanderingBlindly, xxcelientje, amarynas, charlescoded, LestappenForever, linearity

Note to the authors: If your fic is on here and you would like me to take it down I will. Feel free to just dm me about it or drop and ask 😌

And anon I hope you find something you like on this list!

[yuus-sentient-teddy]

"You're staying here."

A/N: Spoilers for Prologue, Books 1-6, and certain events. Sorry! I've had this story in my drafts for so many months. I hope ya'll enjoy it and please let me know what you think.

EDIT: I accidentally posted this while in the middle of editing and decided to still work on it while it was posted XD

". . . What? Hang on--"

"Calm down, we just need you to be our in-between in case the beast gets to us. Having you up here means you can get to the Headmaster faster--"

"Wait, stop. Stop." Yuu squinted at Leona, incredulous. "You could have one of your dormmates do that. Your dorm is based on athletics, I'm pretty sure whoever he is could get to the Headmaster faster than me. Not to mention, I'm a Beast Tamer, I should be going with you guys!"

"You're also magicless." Leona was mercilessly blunt with that fact. The words reminded Yuu of all the jabs of random bullies throughout the schoolyear, and they gritted their teeth. Before they could argue back, Leona said, "I'm not saying that that makes you useless, but let's face it: you're not going to survive that oversized house cat unless you can put up a barrier or counter a spell."

"I probably wasn't meant to survive a lot of things since coming here, but look what happened--" Yuu spread their arms out--"I'm alive anyways."

"It's probably because you had one of us or Grim with you," Ace said. "Dealing with the ghosts at Ramshackle the first night and every other thing after that, Grim. Fighting the Phantom in the mines, the three of us. All of the Overblots, a group of us." He was counting off each instance with his fingers, clearly not sorry for making a case against Yuu. "I know you're not thrilled about being left out of something as big as this, but without Grim, you're not going to be able to do much, let alone protect yourself. We can't keep an eye on you either, so it's basically better if you stay here."

He didn't shrink away from the look of betrayal and anger on Yuu's face and stood still when they marched up to him. "Okay, first of all, when have I ever asked any of you to keep an eye on me? Yeah, never. And second in case you forgot, I've handled myself pretty damn well when it came to random magic crap. I literally can't count how many times I almost got burnt by fireballs, impaled by ice, and struck by lightning by people that can't aim, and there are a lot of them at this school. Yeah, Vargas's 'catch-up' lessons helped with my speed, but my point still stands."

They held up a hand, stopping Ace from rebutting. "And if you're going to bring up Grim probably throwing out spells with weird side effects, don't. I've suffered enough curses getting thrown at me and potions being snuck into my food to get used to weird effects."

"Wait, people have been doing those things?!" Kalim's eyes were wide in disbelief and shock. "Why?"

Yuu half-heartedly tossed their arms, palms turning upward, as a form of a shrug. "Probably because they're assholes and I'm an easy guinea pig. If we're being a little pessimistic, it's probably also because no one would miss me. Magicless nobody from another world and all that."

"That's a horrible thing to think about!" Kalim cried. The Ramshackle Prefect was a helpful person and tried avoiding trouble the best they could. Not to mention, they weren't in line for something major like a merchant business or a throne. How could anyone want to trouble Yuu? (And how could Yuu think no one would miss them?)

"No surprise they'd think that," Idia mumbled.

"Hate to break it to you, but even if you got potioned and cursed a lot, there's still going to be something you won't be able to handle," Ruggie said. "I get what you mean, though. I got cursed and potioned a bunch of times before I started working for Leona and still a little after. At some point, you're more annoyed than bothered by whatever happens to you."

There were times he saw his freshman self in Yuu. Struggling to understand the lessons, having to bear with a handful of cruel upperclassmen or fellow classmates, left to carry out a difficult task on their own... he sometimes may or may not have been at the right place at the right time to offer help--in exchange for a favor, of course.

"That still doesn't mean you should throw yourself into a fight without knowing what could happen to you," he added, almost scolding.

"I know, but I still helped with the Overblots, didn't I? I think that's enough proof that I can handle being in dangerous fights," Yuu said, crossing their arms. Their sleeve got pushed up and a healing scar on the back of their wrist was revealed, which caught multiple eyes.

Savanaclaw and the Leech Twins remembered the cry of fear and pain when the Octopus Phantom's tentacle snatched their arm, right after they had stepped out of the way of a funnel of water. Octavinelle and Kalim remembered Yuu being sent flying after the Genie Phantom shot a spell that created a force upon impact. They would have hit the wall like a rag doll if Azul didn't catch them with wind magic. The VDC group members remembered them on the ground, twitching sporadically as one of the Hag Phantom's regular sized apples innocently rolled away like it didn't poison them through touch. (Deuce panicked so hard he summoned a cauldron to crush it even though just stepping on the apple was all that was needed.) And who could forget Yuu yanking their arm out of a nest of thorny branches that had been summoned by the Dragon Phantom? They had scars from thorns that got particularly stuck.

After realizing they were staring, Yuu followed the gazes and put their hands in their pockets as casually as they could.

"If you're worried about us thinking less of you, I assure you we wouldn't," Azul said. "There's nothing about the offer that you should be worried about. Again, it's not because your magiclessness makes you less valuable. It's simply letting you avoid another troublesome fight."

He didn't turn on the charm; no smiles or overly fawning words. He was dead serious and it made Yuu uneasy. Why did he want them to take the offer? Although--and this uneased them much more--it was starting to feel like most of the boys were conspiring to keep them out of the fight.

"After everything you've gone through, you pretty much deserve this. Don't worry about Grim, either." Deuce pounded his chest. "We'll be sure to bring him back in one piece."

"I. . . appreciate. . ." Yuu gestured vaguely while also feeling that 'appreciate' was a strange thing to say. They didn't appreciate being pushed out of something important without being heard, and they weren't sure how to feel about the unexpected concern for their wellbeing, especially at a time like this. "I appreciate you guys wanting to give me a break, but I really am serious about coming with to save Grim."

They saw shoulders slumping and heard frustrated huffs. "Listen!" they yelled, starting to feel frustrated themself. "I almost lost Grim once! I need to be there to make sure I don't lose him again. I know you guys can do what I can't, I've seen you all fight before, and I know you all will be able to handle what's coming, but I can't stand being on the side again! So, like it or not, I'm coming with. And why do any of you care about me getting a few scratches or hits from magic, anyway? It's not like it hasn't happened before."

No one responded.

". . . Guys?"

Finally, Leona clicked his tongue. "So annoying. I told you all it would've been pointless to do this."

"What's going on?" Yuu scanned the faces around them, noticing how uneasy Jack and Riddle looked, how Ace and Deuce seemed to have something to say, how irritated or hesitant everyone else appeared. Malleus approached them and they immediately noticed his brows furrowed in concern. "Tsunotaro. . . ?"

"Two night ago, we all shared a prophetic vision, likely similar to what you have been experiencing as of late. All of us were gathered together battling the chimera form of Grim in the same area as the current one. He casted spells that were beyond his usual abilities, including one that made it hard to breathe. Somehow, in the blink of a moment, you ended up alone with him trying to get him to come to his senses."

Yuu held their breath as Malleus said, "But then he opened his mouth and lunged towards you, and the vision ended. Forgive us for not telling you sooner. It is difficult speaking of someone's prophesied death and we did not want you to lose your confidence."

Multiple eyes carefully watched Yuu process everything he said. Some wondered how this would affect their character (Malleus admired them for their courage, considering their circumstances, and Ace liked them for their gutsy and surprising moments; hopefully nothing would change).

Others hoped that Yuu would relent and let the group fight Grim without them (Rook was regretful of leaving Yuu behind, but someone as special as them needed to be kept safe; Riddle simply didn't want to lose a dear friend).

And others prepared to rebut Yuu if they were still stubborn about going (Leona was mentally groaning and Vil shared his sentiment; aside from the Freshman Squad's reputation for having hard-heads, the two understood how much Grim meant to Yuu).

The Ramshackle Prefect started to observe them in turn with an unreadable expression.

Then they scowled. "You all realize how fucked up it is to keep that a secret, right? I mean, shouldn't I be told I might be walking to my death? Or is it--I don't know. You all think I can't make my own decisions?"

"That's the thing, Yuu. You care a lot about the people around you, and when it comes to Grim, you'd do anything to keep him safe. Even if we told you about the vision, I'm willing to bet you'd try to convince us to let you come anyway," Ace said. "You're right, it was fucked up to keep the vision from you, but we can't let you be so careless about yourself, especially since it's basically confirmed you might die."

"That cat has no idea how lucky he is to have a patient and caring person like yourself," Sebek said. "It wouldn't do for him to learn it through severely injuring you."

"And actually, none of us would be able to stand it if you got hurt or worse and we had the opportunity to prevent it," Ortho said. "You've done a lot already. Just this once, we want to handle this without troubling you."

Yuu silently stared at their Squad, mouth agape.

"When we found out you had gone with Epel and Hunt to find S.T.Y.X.'s headquarters, we seriously thought wouldn't see you again," Deuce said. "You gave us a heart attack with what happened in Scarabia. What you did then was unbearable."

"I know it's pointless to think about, but I sometimes worry over what would have happened if I didn't get my Unique Magic in time," Epel said. "Seeing that vision of Grim pouncing on you, though. . . it's made it harder to sleep at night."

"Frankly, the headmaster could be more considerate of you," Jack said. "Having to take care of Grim and being a Prefect can't be easy. Not to mention, what was he thinking tasking you with stopping Azul?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking to the side. "On top of being a little reckless, it makes it hard to not want to pull you back from any trouble."

"So, whatever you tell us, we're not taking no for an answer," Ace concluded.

The anger they had towards everyone for their audacity to keep the vision a secret was dimmed a little (just a little) by their friends' worry for their well-being. At the same time, the worrying made their heart tremble and throat tighten. They closed their eyes and took a deep breath. "You know, this whole time I was expected to be a stone wall. I forgot what it felt like to be cared about."

"Huh?" multiple voices chorused.

"What do you mean by that?" Deuce asked.

"Well, I was pretty much thrown into a lion's den and expected to survive it. I wasn't given much sympathy either by nearly everyone I met, especially during the first month." (A few of the boys internally cringed, remembering the hurtful words he had said.) "There's also the fact that most of the school consists of pricks who are self-absorbed year-round. It's not very comforting to know that if something happens to me, there's a good chance no one's going to give me a hand, except if it's people I get along with or people who can benefit from my suffering."

"I don't blame you for wanting certain attitudes to change, but you know as well as I do that you'll encounter pricks and predators anyway beyond the school walls," Vil said but not without some sympathy.

"I do," they said bitterly. "Look, I get it. I shouldn't expect the world to hold my hand or offer me everything on a silver platter. But--god damn it, would it have killed anyone or even any of you guys to have some sympathy? To be a little more decent?”

"I was able to bear the atmosphere of NRC for a while, but at some point, it gets so fucking tiring. A student population that can't be a smidge nicer unless they're beaten up or more upfront about their actual intentions." They shook their head, then made a derisive sound. "That's why I'm having a hard time processing this. I'm sorry, but I can't wrap my head around the fact that you guys, who come from Night Raven College, are actually showing that you care."

The corner of their lip twitched upward, forming a broken smile. Concern was visible on everyone's faces.

"Yuu," Ace said, "are you okay?"

". . . No. I haven't been okay since coming here, or maybe I wasn't okay before coming here and it just got worse. I don't really know."

They turned their face to the side, but it was too late: everyone saw a tear slide down their cheek. Except for Grim and the rest of the First Year Squad, no one ever saw the Ramshackle Prefect cry. It strangely made everyone concerned, and some reached out a hand.

"Yuu..."

"Prefect..."

They raised a fist to their face, as though it could stop the tears before they could spill. They took a slow, deep breath to calm themself, but they never let that breath go in fear a sob would escape.

"Yuu." A hand gently touched their shoulder. "It's all right."

They shoved the person away. They couldn't see who it was from the torrent of tears that suddenly spilled and blinded their sight. "It's not!"

"I was starting to believe people when they said I wouldn't be anything! They told me I was useless and dumb and a nobody. They told me I should've stayed a janitor because I couldn't do anything right. They'd try to beat me up for some etiquette I didn't know or for some stupid reason."

Insulting Yuu's parents and them. . .

Riddle noticed Trey setting aside a big cookie during preparations for the Unbirthday Party. It was for Yuu. Earlier that day, someone or some people had stolen their bag and stuffed it with crumpled paper and empty food wrappers. Their notebooks--thankfully still in tact--had been tossed haphazardly around the school and led to the field where the bag was left. Trey found all this out when Ace and Deuce returned to Heartslabyul dorm scowling. The Unbirthday Party went on as usual, and Yuu seemed cheered up by the cookie and receiving the honors of petting a hedgehog. Much, much later, Riddle caught a bully red-handed and dished out the consequences for breaking Rule #53: You must replace anything you steal. Sadly, it didn't deter other bullies from stealing Yuu's bag, but Riddle still punished whoever he could for breaking an important rule and troubling someone so undeserving.

Threatening to take a tooth. . .

Leona overheard a conversation while napping in the botanical garden. In between sleep and waking, he initially thought he was dreaming the times he overheard the servants whispering disapprovingly about him. What made him wake up was hearing plots to get Yuu kicked out. He couldn't be bothered to care what ridiculous crap the herbivores in the other dorms or his juniors in Savanaclaw got caught up in, but this was something different. Joke or not, someone had to step in before either party gets kicked out--and that's what he did, telling the students off for planning something ridiculous and highly risky (and glaring harshly when he recognized some of the students as members of the Magift Club). After the students scrammed, he settled back down to sleep and his mind wandered to Yuu. He felt a little deja vu when he thought how they needed a tutor to keep themself from failing (and Grim too even though that fur ball could pay to be less annoying). It would dig into his rest time, but he had an idea for what Yuu could do to make up for that. Say, help a certain hyena finish his given tasks quicker.

"It feels like I'm only here for people to use or take from. I keep wondering why it always happens. Is there something wrong with me? Was there some invisible sign telling people I was a tool that didn't need repairs? Was I cheap labor because I'm on the bottom of some hierarchy?"

Taking Ramshackle Dorm away. . .

Once, Azul came across a group of students playing 'keep away' with Yuu and their lunch box. For a moment, he was reminded of his child self, trying to get back a seashell from a couple of bullies who were tossing it to each other over his head and taunting his slowness. He snapped out of his memories when Ace, Deuce, and Grim entered the scene, magic ablazed and yelling. It wouldn't be the first time he would see this happen: anytime anyone picked on Yuu while using magic, their friends would come to their aid. (If Azul had to be honest, he envied the Ramshackle Prefect for having people like the First Year Squad look out for them.) But then, some time after his Overblot, he came across a couple of students on brooms waving Yuu's homework from their perch. The sight particularly irked him, but before he could step in, one of the bullies lost his grip and a couple of papers got blown away. The rest of the homework got lost when he and his accomplice tried grabbing the sheets. It all drifted onto the wet grass below or sailed over the trees, and the bullies, suddenly remembering they had something more important to do, left Yuu scrambling to salvage what they could. Azul wouldn't forget the Prefect's face when they asked, defeated, what he wanted in exchange for helping them with the missing papers. He neither wouldn't forget their face when they asked how he had been able to deal with being picked on so much. For once, he didn't feel the urge to strike a deal.

Using them for a plan. . .

When the high of partying in the desert died down, all Jamil could think about was how he would tell his family that he Overblotted and why. It churned his stomach picturing their horrified faces, and it was made worse when he wondered what the Al-Asim family would do if they heard that their heir had been caught in a dangerous situation by none other than the loyal best friend. What would happen to him and his family then? Amidst the inner turmoil, the Ramshackle Prefect and Grim were far from his mind until he and Kalim found them practicing for the VDC tryouts. A proper apology was due, but he didn't have one prepared. It didn't seem to matter to the two, though, as they acted like nothing happened. As though he didn't force them to "solve" another dorm problem right after Grim expressed not wanting to. When Vil Overblotted, he saw Grim rearing to fight while voicing how troublesome it was to deal with yet another Overblot. His eyes slid over to Yuu. . . and it was crystal clear they didn't want to deal with anything anymore. They stared at Vil's cackling, levitating figure with despair, eyes telling of exhaustion and mouth tugging into a grimace, a sign of reluctant acceptance. He tried to protect them when he could from poisonous spells--emphasis on tried, since he still had Kalim to keep safe--and afterwards, offered leftover food whenever Scarabia had parties.

"Was an Overblot all it took for people to see me differently? I can't control how other people act, only how I respond. All I can do is take things easy and forgive, but I don't know if I can keep doing it. It's just. . ."

Their voice trembled. "So hard to keep going when it seems like barely anyone wants to consider you."

Word spread fast around Night Raven College and it wasn't long before Vil recognized that Yuu was in a challenging position: they lived in a literal ramshackle dorm, had to live on a small budget, and were entirely new to this world. He had to hand it to them, they possessed quite the will and backbone. After all they experienced, he counted himself lucky that they warmed up to him rather quickly--which was why he noticed how tensely quiet they became the night after their friends snuck a bite of unknowingly cursed dessert. When asked, they told him bluntly that it was painful seeing food used like that. They were struggling to pay off lunch debts and it was made much worse when already broken windows broke a little more or parts of the roof had to be patched up after a short downpour. Vil could see a little hunger in their eyes as they talked of instances where they had to decide between repairs and eating dinner that night, even the next two nights. He didn't know about their struggles in the first place, but he nonetheless felt terrible about what he did and deeply apologized. For the rest of the VDC training camp, he ignored any footsteps that came from the Prefect's bedroom and headed downstairs, even as they made the floorboard creak loudly.

Idia sometimes thought about how the Prefect looked when they thanked him for listening to their rambles of all the anime they watched back on Earth. The two of them were sitting in Ramshackle Dorm's lounge, waiting for the next level of the game to finish loading, when he glanced over. Serene and distant, like they had recounted a fond memory. He thought back to all the isekai manga, anime, and video games he consumed. Some protagonists seemed pretty eager to be in another world, others were immediately wishing to go back home, but those who expressed homesickness did it in a cool way, like staring at a moon while sitting next to a best friend (he did remember reading fanfiction where it was more emotional, though.) None had a protagonist talk about something as mundane as the shows they loved to watch, let alone a protagonist who would talk to someone awkward like him. Didn't Yuu have their squad for these sort of heart to heart things? But they insisted that he was the guy they wanted to talk to; according to them, he was the most similar to the friends they rambled to about anime and would very likely 'get' what they would be talking about. Idia was simultaneously flattered and frightened: flattered because his expertise in the media was recognized and frightened because he was in a position reserved for those with high relationship levels. In fact, he panicked when Yuu suddenly got teary-eyed. The saving grace was the next level finishing loading and the characters getting thrown into chaos. The next time he came to Ramshackle Dorm, he brought with him some anime he thought Yuu would appreciate.

"And that's the thing. I don't understand how people forget there's more to a person than whether they have magic. There were times I wished no one had magic so they'd just shut up and stop acting like they're better than me or anyone else. It's like having magic is an excuse to be an ass."

Yuu sometimes joined Malleus on his nighttime strolls. Most nights they would be sound asleep, which was why he treasured the times they were awake enough to walk with him. The two talked about anything that came to mind: gargoyles, schoolwork, differences between Earth and Twisted Wonderland. Then one night, Yuu casually mentioned that many of the students were rather. . . unwelcoming. "Some of them act like I don't exist, but it's better than getting my homework stolen and thrown to the wind." He was surprised, but not unfamiliar with bullying from Lilia's recollection of cruel humans and various history lessons. He asked why. They shrugged, answering, "Probably because I'm low on the hierarchy. I don't have basic knowledge on magic on top of being magicless." When he said it still didn't warrant such behavior, they smiled sadly and replied, "Well, that's how it goes when you got something another person doesn't, and that other person just so happens to not really fit in a certain place." Later, Malleus was distraught to hear from Lilia that some of the students who were unkind to Yuu were of Diasomnia. The dorm was founded on the elegance of the Thorn Witch, surely the students would act with decor. But Lilia told him not to worry, he had a word with those students on being more open. But Malleus still wondered if there was something he could do. It turns out the answer was simple (even though it took place after his Overblot): hang out with Yuu during the daytime. They were a fellow student, were they not? So why should they be treated any different?

"Sometimes, I wonder if anything would change if I Overblotted. Would anyone wonder then why it happened and be nicer? Or. . ." Yuu let out a bitter scoff. "Would nothing change and people just see me more as an alien freak?"

They scrubbed the tears in their eyes. "Maybe I'm just a dumb ass and my Phantom would just eat me. It's not like I have anything else to offer it. God, what am I doing?"

The weight of what they had spilled for the past couple of minutes started crashing down like a crumbling shelf. They didn't want to see what the others' reactions were and continued to wipe their eyes with their hands and sleeves, even if there wasn't much to wipe. Their mind cycled through anything they could say to escape such an embarrassing situation. So sorry, I didn't know where it came from. Let's go back to arguing why I can't come with you guys to save my cat. He has been nothing but a pain in the ass, I should know, but he's become nicer and been my primary protector. He keeps insisting he'd protect me because he's the boss and I'm his henchman, and it's so endearing sometimes. And he's comforted me when I become so sick and just need someone to hold me--

"How long has this been going on for?" It was a gentle question. Yuu lowered their hand and found Ace and Deuce standing before them, the worry on their faces making their heart clench.

"A long time."

"Why didn't you say anything? We could have done something, you know," Deuce said.

Yuu shook their head. "This school runs on sink or swim. 'Losers don't have the right to complain.' And did you guys forget that we're freshmen? What can you guys do against the whole school? I actually talked about this with the school counselor and all he could do was apologize and tell me he'll put in a note for the headmaster."

Yuu almost laughed at the faces Ace and Deuce made. "I'm pretty sure I'm his first case for something like this."

"Still, you shouldn't just take everything lying down," Deuce said.

"I don't want to anymore, but I'm so tired of fighting. At what point can I stop?"

Yuu was once again seen under a new light. The viewpoint was different for each boy: from magicless outlier to honorary dorm member, notorious problem solver to exhausted errand runner, doe-eyed student to determined but kind mastermind, just to name a few. Yuu had laid bare wounds previously covered up by uniform sleeves, things they couldn't talk about or didn't feel comfortable sharing because otherwise they'd go against the school norm and grab negative attention to themself. Their closest friends knew of these wounds; others caught glimpses of certain parts. With the revelation, they all shared a similar viewpoint: an ordinary person so far from home, dropped into a magical, chaotic world and more vulnerable than what anyone realized. More exhausted and heavily scarred than what anyone realized.

"When Leona told me to stay here, I thought all along you guys didn't think of me as someone who could stand beside you and that everything had just been you all tolerating me." Yuu's voice dropped to a whisper. "That had hurt me more than any of you could know."

". . . Anyone who thinks you're undeserving of your position knows absolutely nothing," Riddle said. "Not counting your grades, you've proven yourself enough to have a place in this school."

Yuu gave Riddle a wobbly smile and he found himself feeling a little bashful. "Thanks, Riddle."

The smile suddenly became strained and they looked away. "I'm sorry. I know I said I took things easy and forgave, but--" they grimaced--"I can't bring myself to let go of some things you and the others did."

A/N: This accidentally became a two parter

EDIT: I forgot to add the link to part 2. Here it is

[vilentia]

Unshielded Affection

Steve Rogers x reader

In the heart of Stark Tower, amidst the hum of technology and the occasional clank of Iron Man suits, there you were, a new assistant to Tony Stark. Your presence was a breath of fresh air, a contrast to the rigid mechanics and cold steel that surrounded you. And there he was, Steve Rogers – Captain America himself – with eyes that lingered on you a moment too long, a heart ensnared by your grace.

Steve watched you from afar, his admiration a silent sentinel. In his mind, he had already built a world where you were his and his alone – his girlfriend, his wife, the mother of his children. But for now, he was just a man, albeit a superhuman one, hopelessly entangled in the web of his yearning.

"Good morning, Steve," you greeted him one day, your voice a melody that danced through the air. Polite, ever so kind, yet oblivious to the storm you stirred in him.

"Morning," he replied, his voice a rumble, like distant thunder. "You look... nice today."

You offered a smile, unaware of the depth of his obsession, how he craved to claim you as his own. In his eyes, you were perfection – someone who deserved the world, and he wanted to be the one to give it to you.

But Steve's longing was a shadow that followed him, a whisper in the dark corners of Stark Tower. He imagined conversations, moments where he could confess his feelings, but fear held him back. What if you didn't feel the same? What if he was just another face in the crowd to you?

One evening, as the city lights flickered like distant stars, Steve found you alone in the common area, lost in a book. He approached, heart pounding, a battle raging within him.

"Can I sit here?" he asked, indicating the seat beside you.

"Of course," you replied, your eyes meeting his, a galaxy of kindness within them.

They talked, about everything and nothing – about art, about the world, about dreams. And in those moments, Steve saw glimpses of a future he yearned for, a life where you were his.

But as the clock ticked, reality crept in. Steve knew he couldn't keep you in his world of fantasies. He had to act, to speak his truth.

"(Y/N), I need to tell you something," Steve began, his voice laced with a vulnerability rarely shown. "I... I've been thinking about you a lot. More than I should, perhaps."

You looked at him, a hint of surprise in your eyes, but you didn't speak.

"I want you in my life, more than just as a friend. I want you to be mine, in every way that matters," he confessed, his blue eyes burning with a fervor that matched the intensity of his words.

The air hung heavy between them, a moment stretched into eternity. And in that silence, Steve's heart raced, waiting for your response, for the verdict that would either make or break him.

In the stillness of the room, your eyes remained fixed on Steve, absorbing the raw honesty that lay bare before you. The confession echoed in your heart, a turbulent sea stirred by his words.

"Steve, I..." you began, your voice a hesitant whisper, caught between the realms of surprise and an unspoken desire. "I never thought someone like you could... could feel that way about me."

His gaze never wavered, a testament to the sincerity of his feelings. "You're not just someone, (Y/N). You're everything I never knew I was missing. I see a future with you, a hope for something more than just battles and missions. With you, I see a life."

Your heart fluttered, a bird trapped within a ribcage, yearning for the freedom his words promised. A part of you had always harbored feelings for the heroic Captain, feelings you dared not acknowledge until this moment.

Steve reached out, his hand hesitantly finding yours. The contact was electric, a connection that seemed to transcend the physical realm, bridging two hearts with a silent understanding.

"I want to be there for you, to protect you, to love you," Steve continued, his voice a fervent plea. "But I need to know... do you feel the same?"

The question hung in the air, a challenge to the walls you had built around your heart. The thought of being with Steve, of being the center of his world, was both exhilarating and terrifying. To be loved by him meant stepping into a life far removed from the ordinary – a life filled with dangers, uncertainties, but also unparalleled passion.

In his eyes, you saw the reflection of your own fears and hopes, a mirror to your soul. "Steve, I... I do have feelings for you," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "But it's all so overwhelming. You're not just a man; you're a symbol, a hero."

Steve's grip on your hand tightened, a silent reassurance. "I'm just a man when I'm with you, (Y/N). A man who wants nothing more than to make you happy, to be the reason you smile. I don't want to rush you into anything. I just want you to know how I feel."

The room faded around you, the world outside ceasing to exist. It was just you and Steve, two souls laid bare in the vulnerability of the moment. The decision loomed ahead, a crossroads that would define the path of your heart.

In Steve's eyes, you saw a future filled with love, challenges, and the promise of a life less ordinary. And in that moment, you realized that perhaps the greatest adventure was not in the battles fought outside, but in the journey of the heart.

"Steve, I want to be with you," you said, the words a leap of faith into the unknown. "Let's take this one step at a time, together."

And with those words, a new chapter began – a story of love between a hero and the one who had captured his heart, a tale of two souls navigating the unpredictable waters of life, together.

[cuubism]

on watching your god become human

--

"I don't believe you are meant to be here, Corinthian."

Corinthian is certainly not meant to be here. He's not sure where the impulse to slip from his cage came from; he's pretty sure that was supposed to be written out of him when Dream reconstructed him from the ashes of his rebellious former self. Maybe when you make a being of wanting, the wanting for itself comes back, whether you like it or not.

"Fuck that," he says. "Neither are you."

Morpheus observes him placidly from where he's sitting on Hob Gadling's couch, sipping a cup of tea. Humans are alternately entranced by or repelled by the Corinthian, depending on their particular complexes, but Morpheus -- human, human Morpheus -- is neither. He knows the truth of what the Corinthian is, and doesn't fear him, even though Corinthian could step over there and bury a knife in his throat and this time, it would stick.

"Maybe not," Morpheus concedes. Dead, he's supposed to be dead, Corinthian thinks. "But I am. Are you going to sit, or just ogle?"

Corinthian might just stare at him. Morpheus looks exactly the same as last Corinthian saw him, except that he is fucking human, and every time Corinthian looks away from him and then back, his stomach jolts like he’s missed a step on the stairs.

"Depends, are you going to call the cops on me?"

"Is that how you saw me?" Morpheus asks. "As jailer and persecutor?"

"...No," Corinthian admits. In his former life, in the end, maybe. In the way an adherent chafes against the strict, incomprehensible strictures of his holy book. But Morpheus -- Dream -- was much more than some rules meant to circumscribe him.

"Regardless, I won't 'report' you," says Morpheus, with a half-smile. His eyes are sharp and knowing as ever where they track Corinthian's movement across the living room as he sits down in the armchair across from the couch. But he's lacking the thrum of power Corinthian is used to. The gravity well of belonging that always let Corinthian know he was near, that drew him in. It's disconcerting. "As long as you don't go around carving out eyes, after this. I would hate to see you unmade."

Corinthian has more important business here than that. Besides, he isn't interested in being taken apart again.

"I'll pass. Pretty sure that kid would dissolve me like that."

"Are you somehow implying that I was lenient with you?" says Morpheus. "Although, I suppose he did not create you."

"If you wanna get technical about it he did," says Corinthian. That well of power has transferred over to Daniel, now, those ancient brushstrokes of creation now following the path of his hands. But it feels wrong. The Corinthian does not want to be Daniel's creation. He wants to be Morpheus's. He has always been Morpheus's.

"Technically," repeats Morpheus, a spark in his eyes as if he knows exactly what Corinthian is thinking. "I still consider you mine."

This sends a confusing rush of emotions clanging through Corinthian's being. Not that that is an unfamiliar sensation, around Morpheus. Pleasure and indignation war within him. "You have no power over me anymore."

"Don't I?"

Corinthian grits his teeth. He doesn't know what to do with this Morpheus. Whether to hate him, whether to mourn him. Whether to drag him back to what he once was, somehow. "You're nothing, Morpheus.” He intends this to sound cruel. It doesn’t, quite. “You were a world." My world. “Now you're nothing."

"I've accepted that," Morpheus says, which is not the response Corinthian had expected, and gives him no satisfaction. He wanted Morpheus to lash at him. To punish him, the way he might once have, for his rebellions. Instead, Morpheus just watches him evenly, as if this behavior is no surprise to him but doesn't bother him anymore. Because it’s not his responsibility anymore. Because he’s human.

Once, Morpheus had been an entire dreaming universe. One the Corinthian inhabited. Once he had held Corinthian's fabricated heart in his hands, crafted each ventricle from dreamstuff. Corinthian was carved from a piece of his soul. A piece that he didn't want, Corinthian had thought, at his first life's end. A piece that he wanted too much, Corinthian thought, when reborn. He had thought he could see straight through to Morpheus's heart, that he was a part of him, that he understood. He had thought he knew everything.

And now Morpheus is sitting in the Waking world like a human, as a human, and Corinthian thinks desperately on the boundless creature he once knew and wonders what he didn't see.

"Some hypocrite you are," he accuses. "Unmaking me for wanting to be different."

"You'll notice I didn't use it as an opportunity to murder people," Morpheus says drily. "However, perhaps that has some merit. But tell me: would you give up what you are to be here? Not as a nightmare walking free in the Waking, but as a human?"

This gives Corinthian pause. Once, he had roamed the Waking world as a terror, had gorged himself on power. Had held men at his mercy and relished in it. It would not be quite the same, would it, to be one of those men himself.

"I don't know," he says.

"It's not so easy a trade to make," Morpheus says, setting down his tea and holding out his hands, palms up, hands that once could have stripped the Corinthian back to dreamstuff, now useless against him, "to give up your power for freedom."

Corinthian isn't sure if this is what he intends, but he lays his own palms over Morpheus's.

His skin is warm. Soft. Human. Corinthian could never have touched him like this, before. Not that Morpheus had never touched him. But it had not been like this, with hands open.

"I tried to destroy you," he says.

"So you did, my creation."

"Did that hurt?" Corinthian had meant it to. At the time.

"When you make something with your own hands and it decides it hates you," Morpheus says, gaze without its old stars but still fathomless as he looks down at their joined hands, "yes, it hurts."

The thought gives Corinthian no satisfaction now. "I never hated you." I loved you. "I worshiped you."

"I don't require worship."

"I loved you, and you unmade me." He stands without meaning to, and looks down at Morpheus from above. Morpheus doesn't follow him to standing, just observes him, face tilted up. He looks, if anything, sad. Corinthian recalls, from a distance, the expression of disappointment as his former self was unmade.

"And then I made you again," Morpheus says.

"Better?"

"More suited to your purpose."

"Like you did with yourself?"

Morpheus blinks and looks away, thrown by the accusation. "I--"

"Ripped yourself apart and threw away the piece that wasn't working?" For Daniel is Dream but also not, and it's the not that keeps sticking in Corinthian's guts like a bite of tough meat, impossible to digest.

"Is that not what you wanted?" Morpheus says. He seems discomfited by the Corinthian's words. "You did tell me to change."

"Yeah, well, I didn't want some random kid running the place that you made." He doesn't know, anymore, exactly what he wanted, only that now he wants Morpheus and seeing Morpheus here, like this, leaves a bitter taste on his tongue, carves fault lines everywhere he stands.

"I've been assured Daniel is doing a fine job."

Corinthian huffs in frustration. "Sure, yeah, fine."

"What do you want of me, Corinthian?" Morpheus asks. They're still fucking holding hands. Morpheus hasn't pulled away. His hands are weightless in Corinthian’s grip. “Absolution? I granted it when I remade you. Guidance? That is no longer mine to offer."

Love? Corinthian thinks, disgusted with himself. I don't fucking know. He's not even sure why he's here, only that he had to see. Had to see all of this for himself.

“You can’t give me anything, Morpheus. You're just a human now." The word scrapes over his throat, he might cry with rage, it's so intolerable. “You were so—”

"So?"

Beautiful. Monstrous. Terrible.

He is still beautiful. Corinthian has always thought so. Was he made to feel this way? Maybe. But that doesn't change the feelings. Once, Morpheus was beautiful in the way of a distant, inhospitable planet, seen only by craning your neck up to the sky. Now, Corinthian is walking in that landscape. He's unused to having to be wary of where his footsteps tread.

He squeezes Morpheus's hands, hard, and when he lets go the skin has gone white, blood chased away by the pressure.

Corinthian stares at the evidence of his touch. Morpheus is vulnerable to him now, as vulnerable as any of the men the Corinthian's former self had killed. Corinthian is more powerful than him, except that Morpheus is right, Corinthian is still in thrall to him and would only destroy himself by destroying Morpheus now.

He had not yet even accepted the idea of Morpheus as something that could be killed. And now he must contend with this as well, this bloody human thing.

Barely thinking about it, he steps closer, until he's standing between Morpheus's spread knees, looking down at him. He takes liberties he had always wanted to, slides his hands up Morpheus's throat, cradles his face with thumbs hooked under his jaw to tilt his head up further. Morpheus doesn't stop him. He doesn't even move. Just watches him with that all-knowing gaze, still every inch the king even if he's pulled his kingdom out of himself and given it to another, no longer holding such tight control and instead waiting to see what his creation will do.

"What do you want of me?" he asks.

Corinthian leans down and kisses his god.

His lips are soft. He tastes of tea. Corinthian doesn't get smited by the heavens; no void swallows him whole. He digs his fingers into Morpheus's hair. Sweeps his tongue into his mouth, feels the pulse of blood against his thumbs.

Morpheus doesn't kiss back, exactly, but he does let Corinthian take what he needs from his mouth. And when Corinthian draws back with a nip at his lower lip, Morpheus's eyes are dark and heavy-lidded as if he has drawn some pleasure from it himself.

"I could destroy you," Corinthian murmurs, still close to his lips, even knowing that he could not. "Like this."

Morpheus gazes up at him. "Could you?"

His voice no longer echoes with the distant turning of planets, but Corinthian's being still resonates at its frequency. Perhaps it always will, even if he has a new master now. Corinthian wants him and he could have him, like this, he could debase his former god and make this human body his own; he knows how to bring ecstasy as much as he knows how to bring terror, and he could lay waste, could have Morpheus gasping and begging for it, could deliver his worship and rage at last and ruin him for human lovers. He thinks human Morpheus, hands off all reins, might even invite it. And Corinthian would have him after all of that chasing.

But Dream is gone. That Daniel kid doesn't matter. Corinthian's Dream is gone.

"What do I want from you?" he repeats. Hands still on Morpheus's jaw. "Let me go."

Morpheus smiles, and it's not the smile of a human, but of the creator of horrors and nightmares. It rings a bell of recognition in Corinthian’s ribcage, like calling to like, for all that there is no power in the connection anymore. "I have no leash on you."

Your existence is a hook in me, Corinthian thinks.

He kisses Morpheus again, a flat, chaste, but lingering kiss, then pulls back. When he does Morpheus's expression looks soft, human again, and it's unbearable.  

Corinthian steps back, releasing Morpheus's face. "You're supposed to be dead. Do me a favor, and finish the job."

He turns to go, but Morpheus catches him by the wrist. A light grip Corinthian could easily pull out of, but doesn’t, letting himself by held as much by the lump festering in his throat as by Morpheus’s fingers. "Corinthian."

“What.”

Morpheus kisses the underside of his wrist, a motion that feels both proprietary and beneficent. I don’t need your charity, you half-god thing, Corinthian thinks. He doesn’t pull away, but he also doesn’t look. If he doesn’t look, he can almost pretend that it is Dream kissing him, and that fantasy, that terror, is a well-worn path. If he pretends, then he doesn’t have to stumble through the feral woodland trail that is his king becoming human.

Morpheus’s lips are still brushing his skin when he says, “Even when you went astray, you were always my favorite."

Oh, fuck you, Morpheus, Corinthian thinks. How dare he say such a thing when he left. When he made himself human. When he unmade Corinthian for daring to try the same.

He pulls his hand from Morpheus’s grasp. Doesn't respond, or look back. Maybe he'll return, maybe he won't. Maybe he'll finish the job Morpheus started. Or the one he himself started, in daring to touch his lips.

For now, feeling only more jumbled up than when he arrived, he leaves the flat. Leaves Morpheus to his human life. And lets the door slam shut behind him.

[ghoulie-67-baby]

Thunderstorm - Good Omens.

Summary: Thunderstorms had been one of your biggest fears since childhood and a big storm is on its way, but Aziraphale promises he will be with you. And a sweet surprise makes dealing with the storm much easier.

Warnings: Fear of thunderstorms (Astraphobia), Panic, anxiety, crying, angst, fluff.

Pairing: Ineffable husbands x GN!reader

Word count: 2,176.

The air was dense and suffocating as I wandered through the streets of Soho, rushing to get home as fast as possible before the rain started. Clouds above my head blackened as the minutes passed, only making my steps faster and more urgent. I half expected to see the Bentley parked outside the shop in its usual spot as home came into view but the space was empty, sadness settling in my stomach though I couldn't tell if it was the fact he wasn't there or the looming storm or maybe a mix of both.

"I'm home," I called through the shop as I shut the door with cold, shaking fingers. There didn't seem to be anyone in the shop as I glanced around before taking off my shoes and jacket, walking through to the back room to put them away and grabbing my slippers and cardigan. I hummed to myself as I picked up the fresh cup of tea that seemed to be miracled to stay hot on the side, smiling at the notion. A sigh of relief sounded through the room as I sipped it, the taste and warmth settling me down. "Where are you, Honey?" My eyes scanned the room only to come up with nothing.

"Just a moment Love," A familiar voice called, making me grin. "I'm just shelving some of the newest materials." I rolled my eyes at his antics as I held my cup with clasped hands to warm them up. A mess of white curls came into view as the Angel appeared from behind one of the shelves, books stacked up so high I couldn't see his face as he balanced them. I giggled at him, placing down my cup, grabbing a few of the books from the pile and shifting them into my own arms. "Hello, Love." The grin on his face made his blue eyes shine and I smiled back, shaking my head before pressing my lips to his gently.

"Hello, Honey, busy day?" I gestured to both piles as we carried them through into the shop.

"Yes quite, I've waited all week for these to arrive so I'm glad they have before the storm hit." His gentle voice floated through the air as he lifted the books onto a shelf behind his desk, taking the second pile from me and doing the same with them. I shivered at the mention of the storm, pulling a face at the comment.

"I'll be glad when it's over," I mumbled, grabbing my cup once more and taking another sip. The Angel smiled sympathetically and pressed a small kiss to my forehead to comfort me. The kiss made me melt slightly, calming my nerves even though the wind howled through the shop furiously.

"I'm sure it won't be too long Love," He assured me, picking up his own cup of tea from his desk.

"Where's Crowley anyway? Thought he would've been back by now."

"As did I but he rang saying to expect him back a little later, something about an errand." I nodded, humming mindlessly as I took a seat on the sofa, crossing my legs and staring at the floor. "Love? Are you alright?" My eyes flickered back up to Aziraphale's face though they felt blurred and heavy.

"Sorry," I mumbled, "I'm just a little out of it. Think it's the storm." I sighed, pursing my lips as my eyes fell back to the floor. Ever since I was a child storms had terrified me to the point of endless tears and jumpiness, unfortunately following me into adulthood. This wouldn't be the first time I'd been with Aziraphale during a storm but each time it was the same; I would zone out, becoming distant and distracted, before freaking out when the storm actually hit leaving them to look after me.

"Don't apologise, Love," He came to sit beside me, shoulder resting against mine gently. "I'll be here with you the whole time." I nodded, smiling gratefully at him, finishing my tea. My head rested against his bicep as we waited for the storm to set in, the feeling of guilt building in my stomach knowing Aziraphale would have to deal with the state I got into, especially without Crowley here to help. Minutes felt like hours as we waited and I sighed heavily, eyes peering up at the Angel.

"Azira, can you read to me please?" A pleasant smile crossed his face as he nodded softly. "Can we carry on with Alice in Wonderland?" I giggled at the grin on his face, melting into a forehead kiss before curling my knees up on the sofa with me.

It had only been minutes since he left to go and find the book, shuffling could be heard in another room when an almighty crash of thunder split through the room. A scream of terror ripped through the room as I jumped out of my skin, launching myself off the sofa and to the nearest safe space where I curled up, trembling with hands clenched over my ears and eyes wide with fright. I was so caught up in the noise of the storm and flickers of lightning that I hadn't noticed Aziraphale rush back into the room. A part of me wanted to crawl out of my space and let him take care of me but my body was frozen in place as my heart pounded. I stared as a frantic pair of feet searched the room in my usual hiding spots for a curled-up, frightened bundle but they soon came to a stop in the middle of the room when all my places had been searched.

"Y/N, I know you're scared," His voice sounded muffled as he called out into the empty room. "But I need you to show me where you are." I whimpered softly, I wanted to show him, I really did but my body was too stubborn and stiff to move, curling up tighter with each crash of thunder. By this point, tears had flowed over and flooded my cheeks leaving streaks down my face. A sob was bitten back as the walls practically vibrated with the force of the storm outside, my fists clenched around my ears in a vain attempt to keep out the noise, making the pair of feet turn towards my corner quickly. I watched with blurred vision as the socked feet shuffled over to me, crouching down to reveal a pair of concern-filled blue eyes. Though I could see his mouth moving, I couldn't hear his soothing words as he softened his voice for me, holding out a hand though it just made me flinch. The corner I had shoved myself into was under a desk in the corner, trapped in by the wall and the desk's built-in drawers so there was no room for him to slide in beside me and sit out the storm.

I couldn't tell how long it had been since the storm started, the thunder and lightning sending my senses off in all directions into disorientation but I knew that the Angel never left my sight, making sure I knew he was there if and when I needed him. He had given up trying to touch me, realising it made me flinch and shrink back more and settled for sitting in front of me with his hands in his lap, though he still spoke despite me not hearing him. I knew it calmed him to know where I was and that I was safe as well as he knew it calmed me to hear his voice and see him. A cold wind blew through the room for a moment, leaving Aziraphale no choice but to leave me, mouthing that he would be back quickly, disappearing into the front of the shop.

As soon as he left the room, the walls seemed to darken, casting shadows across the walls with each flash of lightning and tremble of thunder. My silent sobs soon escalated into louder ones as the darkness seemed to fold around me which caught the attention of Azira and the guest. My eyes widened a little more when Aziraphale's socked feet entered the room with a pair of black booted feet just behind him. The two knelt down and this time Crowley's snake eyes appeared as well as the Angel's. Their gazes softened as I fought for my breath from crying, trying to ignore the way my body shuddered with each sob. The demon held out a hand to me but just like with the angel, I flinched and he drew back quickly, looking concerned and slightly offended. It wasn't because I didn't want them near me, the noises and sights of the storm were already overloading my senses and I didn't think I could take much more stimulation. I bit my lip, trying to clear my vision as Crowley stood back up and knelt by a large bag on the sofa before I let my eyes flicker to the white-haired Angel.

I could see his lips forming words like 'Come on' And 'You're safe with us Love' and slowly but surely my body seemed to decide it wanted out of the corner and into the warmth of that safety. Inch by inch, with shuddering breaths and trembling hands I moved towards him until I was just out from under the desk. With one last burst of energy, I threw myself into his arms, burying my face in his waistcoat and covering my ears once more, letting his own arms wrap around me. The hum of his speaking could be felt through his chest as the Angel and the Demon conversed between themselves. Soon after I was lifted and carried to the sofa where the Angel sat me on his lap, still curled up, and Crowley sat in front of me with his hands reaching to remove my hands from my ears. I let him rest his slender fingers over my own and gently pull my hands down, holding them in his own and hushing me softly when I jumped at the thunder.

"Hello Darling," He spoke, resting his forehead against mine "I ran an errand because I found something that could help with storms. Do you want to have a look?" I nodded slowly, squeezing his fingers as he let go of my hands and hauled the bag up onto his lap. I gazed up at Aziraphale who smiled encouragingly and nodded towards the bag, giving me permission to open it and take a look. Shaking hands didn't stop me from having a look and a fresh wave of tears came to my eyes at what was inside.

A charcoal grey weighted blanket was folded inside, brand new and looking incredibly soft. I had never thought about getting one, they weren't cheap things to buy and I wasn't sure if I would like it in case it overwhelmed me but the Demon had taken extra care to purchase one that he thought would be perfect and I would never want to upset him by turning it down. I watched in awe and appreciation as he pulled it from the bag and unfolded it, almost effortlessly though I knew it was heavy, I assumed it was a demon perk if anything.

"We wanted to see if you'd try this when it's stormy or you're having a rough day Love," Aziraphale muttered into my hair. "It might help you to settle and block other things out for a while." I nodded but I was worried this meant they wouldn't stay and help me in a storm but I shook the thought away.

"Would you like to try it?" I nodded eagerly, looking at the Angel to see if he wanted me to slide off his lap but he kept me clutched to his chest just like before. Relaxing back into him, I smiled softly as the Demon draped the blanket over me, making sure to keep the weight evened out.

Instantly, the blanket melded into the curves of my body and the Angel's, serving as a cocoon. The feelings of panic were still there but had dulled down as the weight kept me comfortable and grounded in Azira's arms, making me relax into him, laying my head against his shoulder with a small sigh of relief. Though the storm still raged on outside, the feeling of my gift really did drown out the sounds and sights as I hid my face in Aziraphale's neck with a small yawn.

"How does it feel Darling?" My eyes flickered to meet Crowley's and I gave him a drowsy grin. He took this as approval for the gift and chuckled before sliding off his shoes transforming into his snake form on the sofa, sliding up to us and pooling his body against my chest. The storm's noise still made me flinch but nowhere near as much as it did before the blanket. I couldn't help the immense feelings of gratitude that flooded my body as we sat out the storm.