#sorry I thought I tagged that last one but I guess it didn't go through dandjnasjandkj

[slytherinslut0]

Theodore Nott. | be my first.

PAIRING: Theodore Nott x Reader

PROMPT: “PLEASE please do a Theodore nott x fem!reader virgin!!”

WORD COUNT: 5.5k.

TAGS: 18+, Mentions of Slight Violence, Depictions of Blood, SMUT, Fingering, Bestfriends to Lovers Trope (my personal fav), Virgin!Reader, Loss of Virginity, Slow Sex, Soft!Theo, Multiple Orgasm, Dirty Talk.

"I don't know, Pans, wouldn't that be weird?"

Pansy's laughter echoed in a melodious giggle, the rhythm of her steps creating a soft shuffle across the expanse of your shared dorm. With effortless grace, she descended onto your bed, settling in with a languid poise. Laying on her side, her head found a comfortable perch on her bent arm.

"Why would it be weird?" Her grin, radiant and infectious, painted a mischievous allure across her features. "He's your lifelong best friend. I'm pretty sure he's in love with you-"

"Absolutely not," you interjected, employing a dramatic flourish with your hands for emphasis. "He is not."

Pansy cast a sidelong glance your way. "He so is."

"He's not!" Your grin persisted as you fired back, "if he was, he wouldn't be regaling me with tales of the girls he's shagging every bloody weekend."

Pansy, after a moment of silent contemplation, arched an eyebrow. "Perhaps he's just doing that to make you jealous. Ever think of that?"

You released a sigh, your body surrendering to the bed's embrace as you slumped backwards. The gentle thud of your head meeting the pillows echoed the weight of your contemplations, and memories from the past few weeks intruded your mind--acknowledging the nuanced shifts in Theodore's behaviour, particularly since that one unforgettable common room party.

As the realization took root, you abruptly sat up, the intensity of the revelation reflected in your eyes as they locked onto Pansy's gaze. "Pans...he's been acting distinctly different lately."

Pansy blinked, a glint of amusement dancing in her eyes. "You're just noticing?"

"No, I mean," your thoughts scattered like confetti, your heart pulsating with the weight of the revelation. You realized you hadn't told her. "Ever since that party, the one last Friday in the common room...where we, um...we kissed."

Pansy's eyes widened in sheer disbelief, her jaw dropping in a dramatic display of shock. With a swift, purposeful motion, she sat up, aligning her gaze with yours, the unfiltered surprise etched vividly across her face.

"What the hell!" Her exclamation rang with feigned outrage. "I can't believe you didn't tell me!"

Your expression contorted into a frown as you extended a gentle hand, resting it on Pansy's shoulder. "I'm sorry...we both agreed it was a stupid mistake, and we promised not to tell anyone. We knew you guys would relentlessly hound us about it...I just...I just couldn't risk it..."

Pansy took a measured moment to process your words, her eyes narrowing slightly. She ran a hand through her raven-black hair, the gears turning behind her eyes, thoughts churning with an amused yet contemplative air as she processed your confession.

With an entertained huff, she locked eyes with you. "I can't believe that little weasel kept his mouth shut for all that time. Guess he really can keep a secret."

An assertive snort escaped you, relief from her reaction igniting your features. "Probably just doesn't want me to hate him, considering we're bound to cross paths at every family gathering. Our families are so tightly knit..."

Pansy reclined with a subtle smirk gracing her lips, mischief dancing in her dark eyes. Her fingers traced an intricate, invisible pattern on your emerald green bedspread, their movements betraying a simmering excitement.

Meeting your gaze with unwavering confidence, she responded, "yet another advantage for you, and another compelling reason to go for it."

You shifted, your posture a nuanced blend of contemplation and uncertainty. Your fingers delicately toyed with the hem of your shirt, a nervous energy manifesting in the subtle dance of fabric against your skin.

In the pregnant pause that followed, you countered, "I just...I just can't envision a scenario where asking my best friend to take my virginity works out in my favour."

"I can't see a world where it doesn't," Pansy replied with a softness that hinted at the weight of her conviction. Sitting up again, she met your eyeline, the motion accompanied by a deliberate brush of loose strands of hair behind her ear.

Her gaze held a depth of understanding as she continued, "You guys clearly love each other, given you've known each other forever. He's always Mr. Funny Guy with you, perpetually super flirty and protective...I genuinely believe he'd be happy to oblige."

Absorbing Pansy's counsel with a thoughtful nod, you murmured a grateful, "I'll think about it."

Rising in unison, the two of you traversed to your respective wardrobes, swapping the gravity of the previous discourse for the ease of more casual attire. Satisfied with your choices, you exited the dorm, descending toward the common room. The soft glow of dimmed sconces on stone walls cast an intimate ambiance, while a low hum of hushed conversations and sporadic laughter created a comforting background symphony.

As you stepped into the common room, an immediate sense of unease gripped you. Your attention honed in on the far corner, where a palpable commotion unfolded. Brows furrowing with concern, your gaze fixated on a group of clustered bodies--Mattheo Riddle, Lorenzo Berkshire, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott all converged around someone.

Instinctively, you made your way over, Pansy following closely behind. As you approached the charged scene, you reached out, placing a steadying hand on Mattheo's arm in an attempt to capture his attention. The air buzzed with tension as you sought to understand the cause of the brewing conflict.

"Matt, what's happening?" you inquired, peering past him to catch sight of a bloodied Malfoy standing at the center of the circle. "Did you do this?"

"No, it was Nott," he retorted, his dark eyes meeting yours as he ran a hand through his dishelved curly hair. "They had a little disagreement--nothing too crazy."

Your gaze swept around the circle, capturing the aftermath of the disagreement. Malfoy wiped the blood from his chin on the back of his hand, keeping his gaze glued to the floor. Meeting everyone's eyes, your search finally settled on Theo, his nose bleeding and a minor cut marring his chin.

A heavy sigh escaped you, the weariness evident in your tone. "Do your petty disagreements always have to escalate into a damn bloodbath?"

Mattheo nonchalantly shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. "When they involve Nott...pretty much, yeah."

With an exasperated scoff, you distanced yourself from him, striding purposefully toward Theo. The cerulean depth of his eyes locked onto yours as you approached, a battered hand running through his tousled hair as he shook his head in a frustrated scowl.

"What happened?" you inquired, genuine concern lacing your voice. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Theo's jaw clenched, his stormy gaze shifting from your face to fixate on something over your shoulder. "Sorry prat had it coming."

His eyes locked onto Draco, who was now being tended to by Pansy, the lingering fury evident in the tight set of his jaw and the fire in his gaze. Theo was not merely angry; he was simmering with a profound frustration that permeated the air around him. Sensing his reluctance to share details, you delicately grasped his arm, lowering your voice into a soothing whisper.

"Come on, Theo," you murmured, your tone gentle and calming. "Let's get you cleaned up, alright?"

With a reluctant nod, he cast one last glance over your shoulder before allowing you to guide him out of the common room and back down the dormitory hall. Upon reaching his dorm, he unlocked the door with a brief motion, and you stepped in first.

Navigating the familiar space, you headed straight to his bathroom, grabbing a wet cloth and some ointment. As he took a seat on his bed, the routine unfolded seamlessly--a ritual born out of many similar occasions. Cleaning up your best friend was a well-practiced chore, a testament to his quick temper and penchant for confrontation. It was second nature to you, an unspoken agreement that you'd always be there for him in these moments.

Emerging from the bathroom, you noticed Theo had already cast a silencing and muffling spell over the room. A waft of smoke hung in the air as he lit up a cigarette, his darkened gaze keenly tracking your every movement as you approached.

You came to a halt in front of him, and he widened his stance, creating a space for you to nestle between his legs. Seated on his bed while you stood, the two of you aligned perfectly at eye level. A surge pulsed through you as you observed his plush lips sealing around the cigarette, his long fingers delicately holding it to his mouth. After a quick ashing on his nightstand, he granted you the space to tend to him.

Raising the cloth to his chin, you softly dabbed over the cut, your gaze fixed on the subtle flutter of his long lashes--like delicate wings of a butterfly. A scowl etched his features, and your hands trembled inexplicably, watching his brows furrow, his teeth chewing on his bottom lip. His own hands rested on his knees on either side of your hips, fingers twitching from the sting of your movements.

In a bid to alleviate some of his discomfort, your voice echoed as a delicate murmur. "Do you remember the first time I did this?"

"How could I forget?" He met your gaze, his stormy eyes flickering as his lips teased a subtle smirk. "My personal saviour, always cleaning up my messes."

Pleased with the condition of the cut, you glided the cloth along the sharp ridge of his jawline, meticulous in collecting every trace of dried blood. Progressing to his nose, you repeated the careful process--his eyes remained fixed on your face, observing each subtle movement as you concentrated on restoring his appearance, gently swiping over his lips last.

Grinning at his words, you locked eyes with him. "You're right...I've been quite the skilled nurse, haven't I?"

He chuckled, a deep sound resonating through his chest, the corner of his mouth lifting into a half-smile. "The best damn nurse I've ever had."

You laughed, a warmth dancing across your skin as you pulled the cloth from his face.

"Now that's a compliment, considering you've been in the hospital wing a lot of damn times," you quipped, playfully raising an eyebrow. "I should be getting compensation for my efforts."

"Compensation?" He grinned, the playful glint in his blue eyes unmistakable. "How about I owe you a pack of cigarettes and a promise to keep the brawls to a minimum?"

Smirking, you couldn't hide the amusement dancing in your eyes. "Please, you and I both know your promises mean very little, Nott." As you stepped back, you added, "but I'll take the cigarettes."

Before you could get very far, Theo's large hand wrapped firmly around your wrist, halting your movements as well as the breath in your lungs. Your gaze riveted to the hand, the touch sending a shiver through your skin, before slowly moving back up to meet Theo's eyes. Within their depths churned something profound, a silent intensity that stopped your heart in your chest.

"You want to know why I fought him?" he said, his voice so deep it was almost imperceptible. "Malfoy."

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you waited for him to elaborate. "Sure."

Theo's grip tightened on your wrist, his jaw tensing as his eyes drilled into yours. "He said that if he wasn't with Pansy, he'd have gotten with you a long time ago," he confessed, the words carrying a mix of frustration and vulnerability. "He claimed your hard-to-get facade is all an act...that you're really a little slut..."

Your eyes widened at Theo's revelation, a mixture of surprise and disbelief sweeping across your features. Your pulse quickened, feeling the intensity of his gaze and the gravity of the situation.

"He said that?" you muttered, the weight of Malfoy's words sinking in. Theo's grip on your wrist loosened, and a subtle vulnerability flickered in his eyes as his hand slid lower, fingers finding yours.

"I don't care what he thinks, but hearing him talk about you like that...I couldn't let it slide," he admitted, his voice softer now, revealing the protective undertone that fueled his actions. "He doesn't know..."

"...that I'm a virgin," you said, finishing his sentence with a hushed admission.

Theo's expression softened as he nodded, and his thumb gently traced circles on the back of your hand.

"I don't want anyone disrespecting you like that, especially not him," he said, a mixture of concern and sincerity in his gaze. "You're a fucking angel, he doesn't deserve to even think about you."

Your heart pounded in your chest, warmth spreading through you at his words. Your gaze locked in with his, his eyes momentarily dropping to your lips, yours doing the same. The air between you thickened, charged with unspoken emotions as Theo’s declaration lingered. His protective stance and words resonated deeply, and you couldn’t help but feel the gravity of his sentiments.

Silent acknowledgment settled within you, a quiet admission that the dynamics between you and Theo had shifted. The boy who had once been your childhood best friend was now a source of desire and an unexpected depth of affection. Over the years, his presence had woven into the fabric of your heart, evolving into a sentiment that transcended mere friendship.

"Thank you, Theo..." you murmured, involuntarily leaning closer. "Thank you for-"

Before you could finish the sentence, Theo's hands shifted with intent, cradling the sides of your face as he drew your lips to his. The hunger in his mouth was palpable, a dance of devotion and purpose, his tongue delving past your teeth without a moment's hesitation.

Your lids fluttered shut, your brain caught off guard, taking a seemingly eternal five seconds to gather itself from the molten state it found itself in, the realization dawning that you weren't merely passively enjoying this kiss--you were actively engaging, meeting his fervour with equal intensity.

Your hands instinctively sought his messy hazelnut strands, fingers threading through them as you pressed against him, the world beyond the kiss momentarily forgotten in the heated exchange. As the kiss progressed, your mind struggled to fathom the reality of locking lips with your best friend--a completely sober, unrestrained exchange with no intentions of stopping.

And then, before you could process it, large hands enveloped your lower thighs, drawing you closer as Theo reclined onto his plush green duvet, the soft fabric embracing his back with a gentle touch. Your hands landed involuntarily with a deliberate force on his chest, seeking stability as you shifted to straddle his waist.

The kiss intensified, one of his hands securing the back of your head, while the other boldly explored the curve of your hip, his pelvis pressing against yours, his erection evident even between your layers of clothing.

A low, involuntary moan escaped your lips as his undeniable hardness pressed against you, a sensation that sent shivers down your spine. It kindled a fervent desire within you, a flame only he could stoke. Your hands transitioned from his chest and back into the tousled richness of his hair, fingers entwining in the silky strands. Breaking the kiss momentarily, you caught your breath, panting softly as you gazed down at him through eyes clouded with lust.

Theo's lips curled into a knowing smirk, evident satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as he surveyed the effect he had on you. His hands traversed the landscape of your back, drawing you back down to him. Your bodies melded together, the heat rising between you palpable. You instinctively moved your hips against his crotch, craving more of the intoxicating friction that left your senses spinning, and a low groan escaped him, his hands guiding your hips back and forth.

"What are we doing..." Theo whispered, his voice a breathy murmur, his head falling back, and his eyes squeezing shut in a moment of quiet contemplation. "I told myself I wouldn't do this with you again."

Your heart hammered in your throat, your fingers trembling as his hands grazed the curve of your ass. In a mere pant, you breathed, "do what?"

His fingers traced a slow path to the back of your head, gently guiding your lips back to his.

The heat between you intensified as he whispered, "this," against your mouth, his soft breath sparking heat in your veins.

A low, desperate sound escaped your throat, a mixture of a mewl and a moan, as the fire in your core reached an almost unbearable intensity. Theo groaned in response, his grip on your hips tightening, and with a swift motion, he flipped the two of you around, placing you on your back beneath him. His hips pressed into yours with a force that felt like an attempt to fuse you with his mattress, his hands finding purchase on either side of your head, trapping you beneath him.

"Theo," you murmured against his lips, your hands tugging on his hair in a desperate attempt to part his mouth from yours, yearning for a breath of air. "Theo...”

Refusing to break the kiss, Theo groaned into your mouth, his hand cradling the side of your head, his thumb brushing over your cheek with a feather-light touch. He rocked his hips against you, both teetering on the brink of losing yourselves entirely. The restrained passion and tension accumulated from years of friendship were on the verge of breaking free.

Finally, in a gasp of air, Theo pulled back, both of your chests heaving, your lungs reaching for oxygen in desperation. His blue eyes dipped over your face, lingering for a moment before trailing lower. With a regretful realization, he shifted back onto his knees, putting a disappointing amount of space between your bodies, as if just coming to terms with the consequences of his actions.

"Fuck," he murmured, running an unsteady hand through his hair. "I...I'm sorry-"

"Theo...I want you," you cut him off, the desperation evident in your voice as you expressed your desire for him. "Please..."

Theo's eyes flickered, and he blinked, momentarily taken aback. "You..."

"Yes," you whispered, a subtle flush colouring your cheeks as you pushed aside any embarrassment. "I want you to be my first, Theo."

Theo leaned back down, his hand gently cupping your chin as he directed your eyes to meet his intense gaze, his fingers digging into your skin only slightly.

"Are you fucking serious?" he questioned, a hint of disbelief in his voice. "Don't play with me, principessa..."

"Why on earth would I joke about something like that?" you replied, a teasing smirk playing on your lips. "Of course, I'm serious."

Theo's countenance softened with a tender gaze as he scrutinized your face, searching for any traces of hesitation or uncertainty. Discovering none, he leaned in, planting a delicate kiss against your lips. His hand gracefully transitioned from your chin, weaving into your hair with a gentle, reassuring touch.

"You don't know how fucking long I've wanted you," he whispered against your mouth, his eyes reflecting the intensity of his desire. "But I don't want to fucking hurt you...I don't know if I'll be able to control myself..."

Your fingers gently traced the contours of his face as you held his gaze. "Theo, we've known each other for so long, there's no one I trust more than you...I know you'll be gentle with me..."

Theo's gaze softened further at your words, and he leaned in for another kiss. His hand embarked on a slow journey from the strands of your hair, delicately tracing the curves of your body until it found the waistband of your sweats, teasingly playing with it.

"Gonna' need to ease you into it, principessa," he whispered against your lips, his warm breath mingling with yours. "Let me know if it's too much, alright?"

As you nodded, your hands migrated from his shoulders to entwine in his hair. His hand daringly slipped beneath the cotton fabric, and a gasp involuntarily escaped your lips as he skillfully explored the warmth between your thighs with his fingers. Simultaneously, his lips traced a tantalizing path down past your jawline, each touch sending shivers down your spine.

"Mm, you're already so fucking wet for me..." he nipped your neck and you squealed, fingers gripping fistfuls of his hair. "Gonna' fill you up so good...stretch you out just for me..."

Pleasure rippled through your thighs, your heartbeat thumping in your core. "Theo..."

"Mhmm," he breathed as he trailed lower, mouth grazing over your collarbone, long fingers teasing over your clit, coating himself in your slick. "Fuck, I've wanted to hear you moan my name like that for years...you've completely fucking tortured me, bella..."

You gasped as he teased your clit again, fervent fingers digging into his scalp. "You-you never made a move-"

Theo groaned against your skin, his free hand sliding up to pull your shirt along your stomach, and then skillfully tugging on your bra, exposing your bare chest to his hungry gaze. His lips parted, and a deep lust filled his eyes as he immediately cupped one breast in his palm, skillfully flicking a stiffening nipple between his fingers.

"Fuck me,"  he muttered before pulling one of your nipples into his mouth, skillfully twirling his tongue around the bud. "I didn't want to complicate our friendship, bella mia...I didn't want to risk losing you..."

Theo's mouth moved to your other nipple, and he deftly took it between his lips, suckling on it before tracing circles around it with his tongue. You moaned, feeling your body respond to his touch, your hips jerking involuntarily as he pushed a finger inside of you, causing you to cry out in pleasure. His thumb resumed its motions on your clit, coaxing sounds of desire from deep within you.

Heat scorched your blood. "F-fuck, Theo..."

"Is this okay?" he muttered, pulling back slightly to examine your face. "You're so fucking tight."

You nodded, incapable of forming a coherent thought as your body's reaction was immediate, every fiber of your being inundated by intense, mind-numbing pleasure. Theo groaned as he brought his lips back to your nipple, skillfully pulling it into his mouth. Your entire body quivered beneath him, unable to comprehend how rapidly your impending orgasm was overwhelming you.

"Oh, Gods, Theo..." you gasped, your fingers tightening their hold in his hair like you were trying to pry it from his scalp. "Oh, fuck-"

Theo heightened his rhythm, skillfully adding another finger inside you as he fervently zeroed in on your sensitive nub with vigorous strokes. Your vocabulary dissolved into a symphony of flailing wails and moans, your eyes rolling back in sheer ecstasy as he sensually flicked his tongue over one nipple before seamlessly transitioning to the other.

"That's right, darling..." he cooed against your chest, his voice torn and barely restrained, a low rasp that sent a thrill up your spine. "Let go for me...I've got you..."

His words alone ignited a blaze of warmth across your skin, and as much as you desired to resist, to not succumb so swiftly, it was inevitable and overwhelming, your orgasm slamming into you like a powerful shot to the gut.

"Shit-Theo!" Your jaw fell slack, eyes rolling back. "I'm-i'm-"

Your vision whitened as you broke, every nerve in your body pulsating with ecstasy. It was a wave crashing over you, leaving you breathless and trembling in its wake. Theo's movements never faltered, his touch relentless, drawing out every ounce of pleasure from your shuddering form.

"That's it--fuck--so perfect..." he breathed, rubbing you through the remnants of your aftershocks. "Such a good fucking girl...did that feel good?"

You nodded, still gasping for breath as you tried to compose yourself. "Yes," you said, feeling a flush of embarrassment on your cheeks. "It felt amazing."

"Yeah?" Theo whispered, his hand withdrawing as he shifted to press his lips softly against yours. "You like cumming for your best friend, huh? Enjoy making a mess all over my fingers?"

You released a throaty groan against his demanding mouth as his skilled hands effortlessly peeled down your sweatpants and panties, revealing the goosebumped flush of your skin. His shirt swiftly joined the discarded clothes, exposing the sculpted lines of his torso. Unrelenting, his eyes remained fixed on yours as he leaned back to undo his belt with a controlled urgency.

Once successful, he leaned back over you and a large hand cupped your jaw, his voice a low, commanding murmur.

"I didn't hear an answer," he stated, the timbre of his words sending shivers down your spine. "Perhaps I need to make you cum again?"

You huffed, a subtle squirm beneath him accentuating the anticipation, his free hand teasing the tender skin of your inner thigh. "Theodore..."

"Would you like that?" he muttered, his lips drawing nearer, the grip on your jaw tightening. "You want me to make you cum all over my bedsheets again, hm?"

His fingers caressed over your heat, teasing your folds, and you arched against his touch, drawing a groan from deep in his chest. You could sense he was attempting to buy himself time, to talk himself down from his excitement. His restraint hung by a thread, self-control wavered under the sight of you withering beneath him.

Swallowing hard, your throat felt drier than the desert as you met his gaze with pleading eyes. "Please, Theo," you whimpered, "stop teasing."

"Fuck--so eager for me, yeah?" he purred, releasing your jaw to slide his boxers down his thighs, pulling free his thick, long cock. "Let's see if we can sate this pretty little pussy."

Your breath fled from your lungs, your jaw practically dropping to the floor. He was massive, even in his own big hand, even as he pumped himself, sliding his fist back and forth over his length as his eyes burned wounds into the flesh of your tits. You whined, your core clenching and screaming with need, drool threatening to pour down the sides of your lips as your desperate eyes shifted between his eyes and his dick.

"Fucking hell, Theo..." your brain struggled to form coherent thoughts, and those words were the only ones that managed to slip past your lips. "You never mentioned...so massive..."

He huffed, and you knew he was watching you--his irises igniting in flames, a tiny smirk teasing his lips as you watched him stroke himself faster, harder.

"I didn't want to intimidate you before you got to experience how good it can be," he murmured, his voice low and laced with satisfaction. "Besides, I'm well aware of your disdain for men with oversized egos."

Your breath caught in your throat as your brain struggled to process the revelation. Losing your virginity to your lifelong best friend, who knew you better than you knew yourself, and who had purposely kept the extent of his endowment a secret, fearing it might scare you off. The boundary between reality and dream blurred, leaving you in a surreal haze of disbelief.

"Just shut up and show me," you finally managed to whisper, your desire overcoming any reservations. "Show me how good it can be."

"Easy, principessa, don't get greedy now," he murmured, his hands firmly grasping your thighs to pull you closer. "You're not ready for everything I have to offer just yet."

Theo leaned back over you, trailing hot open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck and over your collarbone--forearm framing your face, other hand gripping his cock, angling the glistening tip toward your throbbing entrance, teasing you briefly with a few false thrusts, slicking his length in your wetness.

"Are you ready?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your earlobe. "To feel me inside of you, filling you up?"

Your voice barely more than a breath, you nodded in response, averting your gaze to the ceiling. "Please."

Theo huffed, pulling his face from your neck, long fingers directing your gaze to meet his eyes.

"Look at me, bella..." he looped an arm under your neck, long fingers holding you in place. "I want you to look into my eyes as you feel yourself stretching out for me..."

Your lips parted in awe, speechless and utterly intoxicated. Doing as he said, you held his gaze, feeling yourself slowly getting lost in the ocean waves of his eyes. Theo groaned, his own breath shallow as he pressed the head of his dick into you, pushing you apart, and you whimpered, clenching before he even entered you. You were quaking--and he hissed through his teeth before he'd fully sank into you, letting loose a low, deep groan as your wet cunt swallowed his cock.

"Shh," he purred, glimpsing your lips. "Just a little bit more..."

Pleasure and pain erupted through your bloodstream as he stretched you wide, a sharp cry leaving your throat as he pushed deeper and deeper, stroking into your heat with the pace of a snail, inch by agonizing inch--pausing once he'd sunk in to the base. You could feel his cock pulsing inside of you, and you were breathless, unable to fathom how big he was, how full he made you feel.

"Fucking hell, are you okay?" he muttered almost under his breath, his voice cracking with concern as he looked into your eyes, his blue gaze searching for any sign of distress. When you merely nodded, the desperation in his expressions intensified. "Please, talk to me...keep me grounded..."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," you mumbled, still trying to catch your breath. "And what do you mean, 'keep you grounded'?"

Theo sighed heavily, emitting a low groan, his breath catching in his lungs as he withdrew slightly before smoothly gliding back into you. You whimpered, still holding his gaze, lips parted in unbelievable bliss. His hand cradled your head, staring at you with gleaming eyes as he found his rhythm, keeping every stroke deep and careful and full.

"I-I, fuck," he grunted through gritted teeth as he stared down at you. "You're so tight, so fucking wet...I can barely control myself..."

He lowered himself, ensnaring your lips in a profound, fervent kiss while maintaining a deliberate pace within you. Each rhythmic thrust unleashed renewed waves of ecstasy, prompting unrestrained moans from your chest and sending you writhing beneath him.

"You feel so good," he whispered as one of his hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch as he slowly began to increase the tempo of his thrusts. "I can't believe how fucking tight you are. You're going to make me cum so fucking hard, my pretty little virgin."

Your nails clawed at his back, your walls squeezing his thick length with every thrust. "Theo-harder, please..."

"Yeah? You want more, pretty girl?" he whispered, warm breath enveloping your ear. "Such a needy little pussy..."

You gasped, nodding as his lips attacked your neck. "Please, please-"

"Anything for you," he responded, his voice torn, each syllable saturated with longing. "Filthy little--fuck,"

He surged into heightened motion, the force of his hips colliding with yours intensifying upon your command. A sharp cry escaped you when he skillfully found that responsive spot within you, immediately unleashing a cascade of pleasure that surged through your body like electric currents. The intensity reached a near-overwhelming point, a delicate dance between ecstasy and a hint of exquisite pain, causing unbridled moans to spill from your lips uncontrollably.

"Mm," he grunted, a near growl in your ear. "Pretty pussy taking me so well,"

His paced increased again, slamming into your cervix with every thrust. His fingers resumed their work on your clit, yanking you toward your climax, your body being whiplashed with pleasure. You bit down on his shoulder, desperate to muffle your screams as your pussy squeezed him harder, yanked to the edge by the stretch of his cock slamming into you, his fingers battering your nub.

"Theo--w-wait," your words stumbled amidst waves of pleasure, your body convulsing beneath his unyielding onslaught. "Theo, please-I can't, I-it's too much...”

"Come on baby, I know you're close," his voice, raspy and unbridled, revealed the shattering of his self-control. He relentlessly pounded into you, beads of sweat adhering his hair to a glistening forehead.  "I felt you squeezing me--fuck--you can take it..."

You gasped for breath, a desperate symphony echoing your lungs' protest as your teeth found refuge in his skin. Fingers, possessed by an almost primal force, clawed into his back, leaving an indelible mark. Theo's movements, unyielding and masterful, propelled you inexorably towards the precipice of climax, each sensation more vivid than the last.

"Theo-" you practically screamed, your body buzzing in anticipation. "I'm gonna' cum, Theo-fuck-"

"Let me hear you," he said, voice shredded raw. "I want to hear you scream for me...I want to hear you moaning my name as this tight little cunt breaks for me..."

"Oh, fuck.." you moaned, eyes squeezing shut. "Fuck, Theo...oh Gods, fuck..."

You shattered, euphoria tearing through you as your walls pulsed and milked his cock. Your eyes rolled back, vision going blank as squeals and screeches left your lips in nothing more than mumbling nonsense.

Theo groaned, bliss numbing your skin, limbs shaking and trembling as he pulled you through wave after wave of pleasure, gripping you tighter until he too exploded, breath sputtering as he poured himself into you, hips bucking until the only sensation left was sweaty, heaving, post-orgasmic rapture.

In the aftermath, an extended silence enveloped the room--long after the cadence of your breaths normalized, long after the faculties of your minds fully reassembled. Theo finally stirred, rolling off you to settle on the mattress, where he promptly drew you into the sanctuary of his embrace.

"Can we acknowledge our feelings already?" Theo teased, fingers delicately brushing loose strands of hair behind your ear. “You know I’ll fight you if we go back to just being friends after all of that.”

You huffed, on the precipice of unrestrained laughter. "Only if you go first."

As you shifted to lock eyes with him, a smirk adorned his face, that mischievous grin unfurling across his impeccably plush lips. "Fine…I'm fucking in love with you."

Your own smirk surfaced, a surge of warmth coursing through you as you leaned in, brushing your lips against his. "I'm in love with you too, you dork."

#harry potter #theodorenottsmut #theodore smut #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott smut #theodorenott #theodore nott #theo nott #severus smut #theo nott smut #tomriddlesmut #lorenzozurzolo #theonott #theodorenott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nottsmut #theodore nott fluff #theodore #theo smut #theo x reader #theo nott x you #theo nott x y/n #theonott x reader #theonottxreader #theodorenottfluff

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.8 a little cottage on the countryside

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 8/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 13.5k (...i'm gonna go take a nap lol)

a/n. hello hellooo my dear kickoff readers, hope you're having a nice day so far! this is the longest chapter yet, so i hope you enjoy <3 it's also got one of my favorite tropes everrr hehehehe you could probs guess what it is halfway through. see you at the bottom and happy reading! sorry if there are typos i didn't proofread this one as much as the others haha

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

You don’t cry much these days, but when you do, it’s usually out of nowhere. 

Like now, as you stand in the school’s photo lab, developing the shots that you took for UTokyo’s game against Osaka last week, and you have to swipe at the tears on your cheek threatening to fall all over the captured images of grass, benches, nets, banners, stands, and him. 

One of the photographs catches your eye, and you pick it up from the table. It’s a candid moment you took of Gojo on the field right before you confessed to him. You had spotted him first while the team was doing their warm-up, and you thought he looked nice from the way he had that concentrated look on his face that you’ve learned to love. But right before you clicked the shutter, he had turned away, chasing after the ball, and so all you could capture was his back facing you as he looked off ahead into the distance. You wondered if that was how it’s always been this whole time–with you looking at him while he’s looking off at something else. It was a depressing thought, but your mind had a tendency for sadness since that day.

The sound of the photo lab door opening jolts you back to reality, and you quickly straighten your posture and wipe your cheek with your sleeve, trying to sniffle as discreetly as possible, then set the picture down. Your fellow film major greets you quietly, asking if you’re still using the developer liquid, to which you say no, then hand it over to them. You stuff your photographs into a folder and head out the door.

You make it across campus to the Film & Media Studies building, then up to the third floor where your professor's office is. His door was ajar, but you still knocked before entering.

He looks up from the photographs he was grading. “Oh, y/n, hello. How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you, yourself?” you ask, taking a seat on the chair that was fixed to face his desk. You pull your tote bag into your lap.

“Great, thanks. How can I help you?”

You slide the folder to him over the scraped, worn burgundy wood of his desk. “I still had to turn in my photos for the assignment due last week. I appreciate the extension.”

“Ah, right,” he says, taking the folder from you. “I’ll get around to grading them. I’m curious, what did you end up choosing for your subject matter?” He tucks the folder underneath the pile that was to his side.

“I took photos of the soccer team’s game against Osaka Uni on Thursday last week,” you tell him.

He frowns at you. “Film cameras don’t have that level of zoom, though. I do hope you followed the rubric guidelines for central object to frame ratio, otherwise I’ll have to take off points.” 

“Oh– I did. I took the photos from the sidelines,” you tell him, panicking already. 

His eyes widened. “From the sidelines? On the field?”

You nod at him, fidgeting with your bag in your lap.

“Wow, I can’t say I’ve ever had a student take photos like that before. That’s pretty challenging to pull off, though,” he says, sitting up straighter, “...you mind if I take a look at them right now?”

You shake your head. “Oh, no. Not at all.”

He pulls your folder out from the bottom of the pile, then gently slips the photos out of them, rearranging them all across his desk. He leans down closer to study some of them, tilting his head curiously at others, furrowing his brow in concentration to a select few. “These are incredible.”

You take in a deep breath. “Thank you, professor.”

He nods at you with acknowledgement, and you watch him as he studies the images quietly for another minute, then looks up at you. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” he asks when he notices you’re still seated.

“Ah…yes, there was something I wanted to ask you.”

“What is it?” He taps his pen on the desk.

“I was wondering if you could write me a letter of recommendation for the film graduate program.”

He nods, like he was expecting the question. “Yeah, of course. Just send me your resume and portfolio.” He taps eagerly on one of your images. “Please send me digitals for these, too.”

You let out a relieved exhale. “Yes, I will. Thank you so much, professor, I really appreciate it.”

You left the building feeling extremely relieved about your professor agreeing to write your recommendation, but also feeling sad because you couldn’t tell Gojo about it, since this was the full-circle moment for the little arrangement the two of you had. There’s a thought that considers texting him, and you take out your phone then go to his name, but your thumbs just can’t bring yourself to send him a message.

The days of the week go by in a blur, and between every single little moment in life, your mind always wanders to him. It’s hard to get over someone when you’re surrounded by them. Like late at night while you’re editing the digitals of the game last week to send to your professor, and you find yourself staring at the pictures you’ve taken of him. It’s hard to get over him when the school worships the soccer team and you’re forced to see promotional banners and posters all over campus with his stupidly beautiful face in them. You didn’t have the heart to block him on Instagram, because you remember that time he teased you about how you didn’t follow him back, and you wonder if it would make him sad if you blocked him, so you just resorted to deleting the app instead. And although you were the one that asked for space from him, you were growing increasingly annoyed at how good he seemed to be at keeping it. 

The library wasn’t even much of a safe space either, since you overheard a group of girls the other day at a table arguing about which of the players on the team is the hottest, and so you find yourself doing your homework on a lovely Wednesday morning at your apartment instead. 

You lean back in your chair and look up at the ceiling, and then jump when you hear your phone ring, quickly turning it over to read the caller ID. Nobara. You accept the call, placing her on speaker, then set your phone back down on your desk. 

“Hey, Nobie, what’s up?”

“Hey, nothing much. Just wanted to ask if you wanted to hang out,” she says.

“Oh, I would love to, but I’m working on homework right now. It’s due in a couple of hours,” you sigh.

“Boo, you whore. For what class?”

“My stats 130 elective,” you say. “I’m a film major, why do I need to know statistics?” You tap your pen to your chin. “Actually, it might be valid.”

“Is that the class with the creepy professor?” she asks. “The one that got caught with a PornHub tab open while he was presenting his lecture slides.”

“Yeah.”

“I took his class last semester! I still have all my homework for it,” she exclaims on the other end, “do you want me to send it over?”

“Yes, omg, I could kiss you right now,” you groan, resting your head on your arm sprawled across your desk in exhaustion.

“So definite no to hang out?” 

“Sorry, I’ll reach out later though,” you sigh, “also, my car is still in repair…apparently something came up with the engine. So we can’t go far unless we invite Mina.”

“That’s fine, I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to come if we invite her just to chauffeur,” she says sarcastically. “By the way, how’d the pictures come along? For the newsletter?”

You lift your head up off of the desk in a panic. Shit. You were so focused on turning in your digitals of the game to your professor that you totally forgot you were supposed to send them to Utahime as well. “Oh my god, I forgot. When do they finalize the release again?”

“Isn’t it today at noon? I sent over film club’s photos this morning,” she says. 

You glance at the time. 11:56am. 

“Nobara, I’ve gotta go. I need to call Utahime, sorry,” you say. She acknowledges you, telling you to hurry, and then you hang up.

You call Utahime and scribble down on a sticky note to paste on your wall as a reminder to buy her a loving gift basket one of these days because of course she extends the release deadline just for you. You finish touching up the digitals and then send them to her via email, and after you finish your statistics homework, she calls you again to meet up somewhere nearby.

“Thanks so much for coming here,” Utahime says as she sits across from you at one of the local cafes you frequent. “Also, this chai latte is so good, I’m honestly surprised.”

You nod at her. “This place has great drinks.” You slide a folder across the table to her and she sets her drink down to accept it.

“Sorry if it was a hassle, but I just had to ask for physicals of these photos,” she sighs as she pulls them out. “They’re amazing, seriously, I gasped when I saw them. I’m used to sifting through a lot of professional sports photos for the newsletter, for all of the teams on campus, but I’ve never seen photos as charming as these. It could be the film photography aspect, since most of the ones I see are digital, but I’m seriously shocked you could capture shots like this at a rowdy men’s soccer match.”

You’re shaking your head at her. “Please don’t compliment me so much, I’ll cry. And it’s no issue, I had a spare set of physicals from when I developed them. You can keep them.” 

She smiles at you. “Okay, well then, I think it goes without saying that I’ll definitely be including them for the sports recap this week. I’ll send you the money soon, too.”

You clap your hands together and interlock your fingers. “I’m. So. Grateful. For. You.” 

She laughs across from you and takes another sip of her latte before sitting back slightly, glancing at the photos spread across the table. “Hm…how busy are you for the rest of the semester?”

You tilt your head at her and bring your coffee to your lips, taking a sip before setting it back down. “Not terribly busy, I quit my job last month so I’m just taking my assignments as they come and go.”

Utahime nods at you, a thoughtful expression on her face, and she smooths down the fabric of her shirt. “Okay, well, I got an email from the school this morning that one of the newsletter photographers for the men’s soccer team is moving to a different city, so they’re looking to fill in the position as soon as possible and they asked if I knew anyone,” she mentions, resting her elbow on the table and then placing her hand on her cheek. “They usually only hire professionals, but if I put a word in for you, they’d probably offer it to you.”

Your eyes widen at her from across the table, heart beating a bit faster in your chest. 

“They pay really well for a part-time job. It’s essentially full-time pay for part-time hours,” she continues, “but it’s probably because you’ll have to travel with the team to their away games, including unofficial matches and conferences. If you’re not that busy for the next two months, then I think it’d be a good opportunity for you to build experience.” 

You purse your lips together, considering her words. Although it’s a bit different from your long-term career plans, it was still a great way to get experience before graduate school. And besides, you needed the money, considering you quit your job last month and your savings were starting to run thin–never mind the fact that your car repair bill went from a few thousand yen to somewhere in the tens-of-thousands. And you would prefer to still be able to afford rent. Oh, and eat. Possibly still pay for Netflix.

But then there was the fact that having that kind of job meant that you would be spending a lot of time with the soccer team, and therefore increases the chances of running into Gojo. And you’re supposed to be staying away from him to get over your feelings. 

“It sounds like an amazing opportunity, really,” you start, “...but I can’t.”

Utahime frowns at you and sits up straight. “Really? I thought you’d be excited. Why not?”

You sigh. “It’s complicated.”

“y/n…” Utahime starts, “I don’t really know what’s going on in your head right now, but isn’t this your dream? For your work to reach people? I know it’s only a stepping stone, believe me I know very well the path to becoming any sort of artist is an uphill battle of hell, but I’ve known you for a while now. And I know how much your dreams mean to you, and how hard you’re willing to work for them.”

Your heart swells in our chest at Utahime’s words. She was right, and you were starting to get really sick of letting your fears hold you back from what you really wanted in life. “...you’re right, I’m sorry. I’d love to be considered for the position, if you could recommend me.”

She smiles and nods at you. “Will do.”

–

The email for the job offer comes surprisingly fast, and you quickly read through it before accepting. It wasn’t a horrible time commitment, given you’d only have to take pictures during active play during matches, give or take a couple hours before, and the photographers rotate between who takes up each of the conferences so the work was split up. You were able to meet a few of the newsletter photographers & journalists during the game last week, so you already knew some of them. The offer letter came attached with a full calendar of the soccer team’s practice schedule, official match schedule, unofficial match schedule, conference schedule, and other publicity schedule, and you’re shocked at how busy all the players must be. The fact that they still have time to be students–and for most of them, active participants in fraternities–was honestly beyond you. 

It seemed like they only had four more official matches left, two being away matches, along with a couple of unofficial matches that they may or may not participate in depending on how the season goes for them. 

Their next game was on Friday against Kyoto university, and you were scheduled to shoot for their sports conference the day following as well. So you find yourself on a train embarked for the countryside, and you peer out of the window with a nervous feeling in your stomach. The sparkling skyscrapers and bustling crowds of Tokyo gradually started to give way into sights of expansive lush greenery, picturesque and charming towns, and winding rivers surrounded by trees. The closer you got to Kyoto, the sky became more gray until a steady drizzle began to fall against the train window. When you reached the final station, the rain had dissipated, and the taxi ride to the hotel was only about fifteen minutes. The journey felt exhausting, and you were so incredibly ready to pass out in a comfy bed. 

You stood underneath a small sidewalk roof near the vending machines lining the outside of the hotel, trying to keep your bag and suitcase with all your equipment in it dry from the remnant soft mist of rain still lingering in the air.  

“Hey, Utahime, sorry to bother you so late,” you say, holding your phone between your shoulder and ear, “but is it the Hilton on 3rd street? Or on Main? Because if it’s the one on Main, then I may have messed up-”

You stop speaking when you hear a masculine voice down the road towards the left, echoing off of the lined up small shops along the sidewalk, and your heart could have recognized the sound anywhere. You’re swift to turn and face that direction, almost dropping your phone in the process, and you see him– the object of all your suffering lately. 

Gojo stood there, wide-eyed and stopped completely in his tracks as the recognition of you under the dim street lighting flashes across his face. He’s in pajamas– a red long-sleeve cotton shirt that looks so stupidly soft and comfortable it almost makes you emotional, with some matching checkered red pants. It was the most casual clothing you’ve ever seen him in. His hair appears damp, slightly tousled, from what you could assume was an effort to dry it off fast. And he had crocs on. In sports mode. You make a mental note to ask him about his charms and if he’s willing to trade any of them with you. But maybe some other day. When it doesn’t hurt to think about him.

“y/n?” he calls your name out, astonished. He’s looking at you like he’s just seen a ghost but in the best way possible. 

You blink at him, heart skipping a beat just from the mere sight of him, and when you hear Utahime’s voice on the line you’re shaken out of your trance. “Oh, sorry, I’m still here. I…I think I just had my question answered. Thank you, have a good night.” You pull your phone down, gaze lingering on your screen for way too long because you can’t brave yourself to look over at the man to your left, and you end the call.

There’s the sound of remnant puddles of water splashing as he takes a few steps closer to you, and you can see his reflection in the water of the one in front of you. The expression on his face matches the one that was there when you last saw him outside of the UTokyo stadium at the west side exit. It’s an expression you could still see every time you close your eyes.

Finally turning to face him, you purse your lips together. “Hi.”

“Hey, what are you doing here?” he asks, voice laced with confusion and you see him take in your appearance with eager flicks of his gaze all around, like he couldn’t believe you were standing in front of him right now.

“Satoru!” another familiar voice calls out. “Did you get the orange-flavored ones too? Choso’s a fucking idiot and got the grape ones instead. I hate those. They taste like medicine. And ass. Not that I would know what–” You see Geto emerge from the darkness to Gojo’s side, and now he’s looking at you with a surprised look too. “Oh, it’s y/n. What are you doing here?”

“Hey, you two,” you chirp, trying to act as if an entire world of awkwardness wasn’t being exchanged between you and Gojo right now, for the sake of hoping that Geto wasn’t a very good judge of energy. “I’m here to take pictures of the soccer team.”

Your eyes flicker to Gojo, who is still looking at you like he’s never seen a person before. 

“Oh, is it for another one of your assignments?” Geto asks. 

“No, it’s not. It’s for the newsletter,” you explain to him, “I guess it’s my job now.”

There are a few more distant footsteps that follow behind the two of them, with the crinkling noises of plastic bags hitting against thighs echoing through the streets, and eventually they catch up. You see Nanami and the UTokyo team’s goalie, you believe his name is Choso, arrive at this little gathering that was taking place outside of the hotel.

“That’s awesome!” Geto exclaims. “I’m sure the newsletter will lead to a lot of exposure.”

“Who reads the newsletter?” Choso asks. 

Geto nudges him with his elbow. “Dude.”

“What?”

He then fills Choso in on the conversation, “Oh, my bad.”

“Don’t worry, y/n, I read the newsletter,” Geto says, “I read it like the morning paper.”

“It only comes out once a week, but nice try,” you respond, giving him a weary look.

Nanami crosses his arms. “I actually do happen to read it,” he says, “although I refrain from the soccer section. Feels rather egotistic to read it. I find the campus politics section to be enjoyable, though.”

The rest of you exchange annoyed glances at that.

“Satoru reads the soccer section,” Geto says, slinging an arm around him, “‘cause he’s full of himself.”

For a moment, Gojo remains silent, while his teammates, who had been observing him with amused expressions, gradually shift to awkward blinking, like they were expecting him to complain, or say something sarcastic, or joke around by now.

“I do read it,” he says, eyes locked on yours. “I saw the release from yesterday. Your pictures were stunning.”

You’re flustered from the way he’s looking at you. “Thanks.” 

Choso opens the plastic bag he was holding, peering down into it. “Shit. Ice cream’s melting, guys.”

“Yeah, we should probably head back to the rooms,” Geto looks at you, “do you want any snacks?”

“Oh, no. I’m good. I was just about to go check-in,” you say to them.

The boys politely say bye to you, and Gojo mentions something about staying back for a bit and hands Nanami the plastic bag he was carrying before they head back into the hotel. And then the two of you are alone under this roof, drops of water falling from it in between the two of you. He takes a step towards you, and you instantly stiffen. He seems to notice because he sighs and then walks past you to the vending machine that was next to you, pulling out some spare change from his pocket and inputting it into the machine.

“Do you want anything to drink?” The machine feeds him something, and he crouches down to pick it up before standing up again.

“No, I’m good, thanks,” you say, hand clutching the handle of your suitcase. 

He cracks the can of his soda open. “So, you’re going to be traveling with us for the newsletter now?” he asks, so concisely, like he felt that every word comes with a tax.

“Yeah.”

“We don’t have to act like we’re strangers.”

You turn to face him. “What should we act like then?”

There’s a hesitant look in his expression as he looks down at his feet and then back up at you. “Can’t we at least be friends?”

The question softens you at your core, the tone of his voice sounding genuine. Being friends with him sounds so nice, and you kind of wish that’s what you two always were. Just friends. Maybe it would have avoided all of this heartache. But deep inside you knew that just being friends with him wasn’t an option anymore, at least not for now. “No, sorry. That’s just a recipe for disaster. I have to go check-in now.”

You grab your tote bag from the bench, grip tight onto your suitcase handle and make your way splashing across the shallow puddles then through the hotel’s automatic doors into the warmth of the lobby. 

The lighting inside was warm and there were moderately high ceilings adorned with vintage-looking chandeliers. Around the perimeter, there were amenities including a cozy lounge with a fireplace, a small bar serving cocktails, as well as a business lounge with booths and multiple TVs mounted to the walls playing the local news. It made you feel like you were on vacation, and getting to a hotel at this hour while on vacation always meant that you were about ready to pass out on some freshly washed and tucked white linen sheets after taking a nice warm shower with a lavender-scented mini soap bar.

Making your way through the maze of plush seating areas, you get to the concierge desk to check-in. There was a professionally-dressed woman with a slicked-back bun standing there behind the counter, her eyes scanning the computer screen in front of her, and a big, burly man that stood behind her wearing all black that appeared to be security.

“Hello, I’m here to check-in,” you say, placing your forearm on the cold black counter.

The lady doesn’t look up from the computer screen. You clear your throat.

“Oh, hello. Name on the reservation?” she asks you.

You take a look down at your phone screen. The reservation was still under the name of the person that had recently quit the job. “Yui Ishikawa.”

The lady behind the counter hums to herself, obnoxiously tapping at the keyboard with only one of her index fingers. She was chewing gum. “Hm. Don’t see that name here.”

“What?” You squint at your phone and refresh the page, then turn it to face her. “But it’s on your official booking site. There was email confirmation too.”

She glances at your phone screen then taps at the keyboard again, still obnoxiously loud, but she uses her other index finger this time. “Yeah, still nothing.”

“This has to be some kind of mistake,” you say to her.

She looks up at you with an annoyed expression. “Do you want to take a look at the screen? See for yourself.” She turns the monitor to face you. 

You don’t even work here, but you could see clear as day on their interface software that there was a reservation for this Yui Ishikawa woman at this time tonight. You point at it. “It’s right there. The reservation is literally right there.”

She turns the screen back to herself and squints at it. “Oh. Well, unfortunately, we already gave that room to someone else. Since it wasn’t there on our system a half hour ago.”

“What? How is that fair?” You were starting to get seriously annoyed. That refreshing shower you were dreaming of was starting to sound more of a need than a want with every passing minute. “Can you give me another room?”

“No, sorry, we’re all booked for tonight,” she tells you, without offering any additional help.

You look at her baffled. The big burly man behind her has now taken an interest in the conversation as well. “Okay…can you tell me if there are any hotels nearby that I could stay at?”

“Look. This is the countryside, ma’am, there are only a handful of hotels in this area that aren’t tourist accommodations. It’s also the night before a men’s college soccer match, and there seems to be some business seminar taking place nearby too. You can call and check, but the closest hotel this large is about an hour away,” she tells you. 

“What? An hour away? I can’t afford a cab ride like that,” you tell her.

“Unfortunately, that isn’t really my problem,” she says.

You blink at her. “Are you being serious? This is ridiculous.”

“Ma’am, we’re going to have to ask you to leave if you can’t comply with our booking rules,” she declares.

“Leave?! You’re the ones that messed up the booking!” You’re yelling now, a few heads turning from the bar at the back. Exhaustion was pulsing through your veins and your filter was slipping. “Do you have any idea how to do your damn job?”

The woman guffaws at you. “Alright, that’s it.” She snaps her fingers, and you watch as the big, burly man walks around the counter of the concierge desk to make his way to you.

You take a step back, watching in horror as he towers over you and grabs onto your arm. “Let’s leave without any issues, miss,” he says in a deep voice.

“What?! But– hey, that’s my suitcase! Don’t– wait–”

“Woah, woah, woah,” you hear a familiar voice call out from the left. “What’s going on here?”

The three of you turn your heads in the direction of the voice, and you see Gojo, still clad in those ridiculously soft-looking pajamas, doing a light jog up to the counter.

The woman at the reception desk straightens herself up immediately, and she pets down on her dress and fixes her hair at the mere sight of him. You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Nothing to see here, sir! Just a crazy woman that can’t comprehend hotel establishment rules.”

“That crazy woman just so happens to be my wife,” he says, pulling the big burly man’s hand off of your arm.

All three of you look at him dumbfounded. 

“Y-Your wife?” the woman asks, sounding equally surprised and disappointed. “But she’s complaining about the fact that she doesn’t have a room.”

“I know, she does that all the time,” he sighs, “she’s got–...early-onset…dementia. Sweetheart, what did I tell you about packing up all your things and leaving the room when I’m not watching you?”

You give him a what the fuck look. He scowls at you to just play along.

“So…she’s with you?” the woman asks.

Gojo nods. “She always forgets that we’ve already booked a room together. Just a silly little sickly lady. Isn’t that right, honey?” He’s holding your shoulders and making you face the concierge woman.

“Y-Yes…” you say awkwardly, trying to put on a smile.

“So, if you could forgive her behavior,” he says with a super pleading voice, pulling you into him so your back is flush against his front side. “I’ll keep her in check from now on.”

The woman lets out a scoff in disbelief. “Alright…just don’t let her out again.” You send her a nasty look. The big burly man lets out a hmph and steps away from you. 

“Sure thing. Let’s go, honey,” Gojo says, grabbing the handle of your suitcase in one hand and your upper arm in his other, dragging you with him across the lobby to the elevators. It isn’t until he’s pressed the up button and you finally gain your footing again after stumbling a few steps that you yank away from his grip.

“What are you doing?” you hiss at him, feeling embarrassed.

He looks down at you with a raise of his eyebrow. “Saving you from getting kicked out of the only decent hotel within a thirty-mile radius?”

“I didn’t need your help, I had the situation under control,” you mumble, smoothing out the layers of your clothing.

“Yes. That’s exactly what that looked like,” he muses as the elevator door opens and he steps inside, taking your suitcase with him as hostage. You panic at the sight and step inside with him, the door closing behind you. 

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“To my room,” he says, pressing a button on the control pad, “you couldn’t get one, right?”

Your eyes widen. “No…I couldn’t.” 

Gojo’s room is on the fourth floor, eleven units down to the right, and you follow him with dragging feet all the way down. Once he makes it in front of the door and takes the keycard out of his pocket, he pauses and looks over at you. “Waiting for you to thank me.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “For what?”

He’s waving the card in the air tauntingly. “You look exhausted as hell right now. I’m the one with the access to a nice hotel vanity and a soft, warm bed,” he practically purrs the words.

You’re instantly folding. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, honey,” he chimes, pressing the card to the reader.

“Stop calling me that,” you grumble as he opens the door for you.

You step into the room, rolling your suitcase inside with you, and take a look around. There was a single bed with the headboard up against the left-side wall, a nightstand on both sides and a desk where you noticed Gojo had his laptop open and a few books out. The bathroom was to the right, and there was a long table that had a coffee machine as well as the TV on top of it.

You place your suitcase against the wall then turn around, standing only a few feet from the entrance of the room, to find Gojo still standing outside in the hallway.

“Do you have to go somewhere?” you ask him. “Why are you just standing there?”

“Oh, I don’t need any of my other stuff,” he says to you, tapping at his pocket where you can see the imprint of his wallet, “room’s all yours.”

Your eyes widen at him. “Wait…are you going to sleep somewhere else?”

He tilts his head at you, as if that was obvious. “Yeah, I was going to go crash on the couch in Suguru’s room or something.”

“But–” you start, stopping yourself. 

He’s waiting for you to speak, but you can’t.

“Well…good night, then,” he says and he turns to the side, about to walk down the hall, when you reach out and grab the sleeve of his shirt, stopping him in his tracks.

This was a bad idea. You’re supposed to be putting distance between the two of you right now, so that you can get over him. This was a man that very clearly said he didn’t have feelings for you. But honestly, you missed him. You missed him so damn much this past week, and you can only be strong for so long. 

“You have an important match tomorrow,” you say quietly, “you should be getting a good night’s rest. We’ll share the bed.”

He turns to face you, looking down at where you were pinching the fabric of his shirt, which was just as soft as you had imagined, and he glances up to meet your gaze once again. “I’m…really confused right now.”

“What if you guys lose and are booted from the competition, and I have to spend the rest of my life regretting the fact that the reason the school lost a 12-year championship streak is all because I made you sleep on a couch?” you ask him.

He takes a step towards you. “You really want me to stay?” His voice was low.

“Yes,” you say. “We’re mature adults. Despite everything, we can just…share a bed for one night, right?”

He’s silent for a moment. “I think you trust me a little too much.”

Your face felt hot. “Are you telling me that I shouldn’t?”

“I’m telling you that you should really think this through,” he says.

“Just stay. Please.” The tone to your voice came off much more desperate than you would’ve liked.

He looks at you like the last thing in the world he could say right now was no. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Positive?”

“Satoru.”

“Okay,” he says, walking past you into the room, like he wasn’t really in the mood to argue about it anymore.

You sigh, sulking your shoulders a little bit, and watch as he takes a seat at the desk and continues to click through things on his laptop, occasionally sipping on the cup of coffee he had made for himself, as if your presence here was no unnatural thing. 

This all felt so domestic for you. This feels like the most intimate the two of you have been with one another, despite the fact he’s literally made you cum with his tongue before. 

“Who drinks coffee at this hour?” you ask, crouching down to unzip your suitcase, opening it up to find your cosmetics bag and a fresh pair of clothes to change into.

“Caffeine doesn’t really affect me anymore.” His eyes were still stuck on his laptop screen.

“You sound dead inside,” you comment, standing back up straight. You step over your suitcase that was on the floor and head into the bathroom, about to close the door but you open it enough to peer over at him from inside. “I’m going to take a shower,” you announce.

You see him poke his tongue to his cheek, leg bouncing up and down underneath the desk, and he squints at his laptop screen like there’s something so damn important that he must concentrate on or else the entire universe would collapse inside of a black hole. “Cool. Have fun.”

“I will.” 

“I’m glad.”

“No peeping.”

“There’s a lock on the bathroom door. Feel free to use it.”

“That’s rich, coming from you.” And then you’re shutting the door. 

It felt nice to freshen up, especially after that long journey, and then you’re doing your skincare in the mirror while you’re wrapped in a towel, trying to forget the fact that the man you quite seriously have immense feelings for is somewhere outside that door just a few feet away in this small hotel room. You spray a spritz of your perfume onto your skin, something there’s literally no point in doing before bedtime, but you still do it…for no particular reason at all, obviously. 

When you step back out into the room, Gojo’s eyes are instantly on you from where he stood near the closet. He takes in your appearance and lets out a laugh, looking at you with amusement.

“What?” you ask.

“You look so cute,” he says, “with your little sloth pajamas.”

You’re fully blushing as you make your way over to the armchair in the room to set your cosmetics bag down on it to sort through the mess you’ve just made of it. “Don’t call me cute,” you scold, searching for your lip balm. 

You could feel his frown from behind you. “You don’t like it?” 

“No. I love it.”

“I’m not following.”

You turn around to face him. “Satoru. You promised me you wouldn’t lead me on anymore. That includes teasing me or complimenting me.”

He looks at you incredulously. “What? I can’t even call you cute? This fucking sucks.”

“Your problem,” you say.

“So you’re cool with sharing a bed, but you’re not cool with me complimenting you,” he lays it out.

“We’re sharing this bed out of the kindness of my own heart,” you say to him, “because I care oh-so-very-much about your soccer career, and understand how important good sleep is for an athlete’s performance. I’m just that considerate of a person.” You point a strict finger at him. “But for your information, if you touch me while we’re in bed, I’ll kill you.”

“Hm. Not sure if I feel threatened or turned on right now,” he says.

You roll your eyes and finally zip up your cosmetics bag, set it on the table then make your way to the left side of the bed. When you glance at the nightstand, you notice Gojo has his wallet, his phone and his charger all situated there.

“Why’s your stuff here?” you ask him.

“Huh? Oh, I was going to sleep on that side,” he says to you.

“I usually sleep on the left side,” you tell him.

“But I usually sleep on the left side.”

You blink at him.

“I–…I’ll sleep on the right side,” he suggests, shoulders tense and on edge.

“Okay,” you shrug, and move his stuff.

Gojo spends some time freshening up in the bathroom too, and when he comes out he looks like he’s actually tired, and you feel like it’s the first time you’ve seen him look as worn out as he probably should be for someone as busy as him. You’re already settled under the sheets, the duvet pulled all the way up to your chin as you lay on your back. He comes up to the right side of the bed, checking his phone for a few minutes while standing and rubbing at the back of his neck, then plugs his phone into the charger. He grabs the sheets, about to pull them back, when he pauses and looks at you.

“Are you su-”

“If you ask me if I’m sure about this one more time, I will no longer feel sorry for you, and will make you go sleep on the love-stained couch,” you threaten him.

He grimaces at your choice of words and pulls the sheets back, slipping himself into bed. “Why do you have to put it like that? You’re gross. Also, I’m pretty sure this bed has seen less-than-holy things too.”

The only lighting in the room came from the warm, dim bulb of the night lamp at Gojo’s nightstand. An incredibly awkward silence settles between the two of you. Or maybe it’s just awkward for you, because he seems fine. He’s on his back too, looking up at the ceiling, practically motionless but there’s the faintest sound of his breathing every once in a while and it’s a sound you’ve never heard in such detail before.

He turns his head to you, but you don’t meet his gaze just yet. You shuffle a little bit, hip bumping against his side, elbow hitting his arm. He’s masculine next to you, shoulders hard, muscles heavy, but when you finally turn your head to glance at him and see the expression on his face, you realize that everything about him was rigid—except for the way he was looking at you.

“When did you sneak it in?” he asks.

“Sneak what in?” 

“The can of strawberry vanilla soda. Into my bag.”

You swear your heart stills a little in your chest. 

“Before,” is all you say to him.

He sighs. “y/n…”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to feel bad for me. I wanted you to have it, regardless of how I thought my confession would go,” you assure.

It’s hard to read his expression from the side while he’s looking up at the ceiling, but it’s softer than it was a second ago. The need to change the subject consumes you.

“Why do you have calluses on your fingertips?” you ask him. “You’re a soccer player, you don’t use your hands for anything.”

“I play the guitar,” he replies simply.

You perch yourself up on an elbow, looking down at him with interest. His eyes flicker to your face. “Really?”

“No. I was just kidding. Hate the way you got excited though. I might have to pick up a guitar now.”

“Can you just answer me?” you sigh, flopping down onto your back again.

He laughs a little, a sound you feel like you could get drunk on at this point. He lifts his head up off the pillow enough to tuck his right hand underneath it, then rests it back down. You wish there was a mirror on the ceiling so you could see the flex of his arm. “Coach has us do the rock climbing wall at the gym at least once a week for practice. He thinks it’s a good workout. Causes a hell of a lot of skin tear though.”

“That’s it? That’s the reason?”

“Mhm.”

You shake your head, “You should learn how to play the guitar, because that’s a lame reason to have calluses.”

He lifts his head up off the pillow again and brings the hand that was tucked under his nape to in front of his face and he just looks at it. You look at it too. “Why are you so obsessed with the state of my hands? 

“A girl can’t be curious?” you ask.

“They’re not that bad.” You wonder if you’ve made him self-conscious. 

You watch the way he flexes his fingers open and then closed. He turns it around, and you can see the veins trailing down from the valleys of his knuckles, disappearing into the fabric of his long sleeve. You remember that party, the two of you in that bathroom, when his hands were all over you, and it’s suddenly a little hard to breathe. He turns his hand again so the palm faces him, but now it’s also slightly turned towards you too.

“They’re bad here,” you say, pointing to his ring finger where you see slight peeling at the tip. The padded skin of your finger touches his skin. “A little bad here, too.” You point to his index finger, careless enough to allow all of your fingers to brush against his this time.

He watches you. “Your hands are really small,” he comments, like it was a marvel to him.

You look over at him briefly, and there’s not a single sign of tension in his face as he observes the image of your hand next to his hand in the air above him. He looked like he was at peace.

“Yours are just big,” you tell him. 

He knows he’s not supposed to, and you really shouldn’t have let him, but he interlocks his fingers with yours regardless, holding onto your hand. You feel the roughness of those calluses all across your soft skin. His thumb runs over the curve of your knuckle, almost in a soothing way, like he was trying to apologize to you for something. And this was the only way he knew how. 

Something sobers him up, because he suddenly pulls his fingers from yours and drops his hand to the duvet. Your hand lingers in the air for a few seconds before you do the same. And now you’re both awkwardly staring up at the ceiling again.

“Sorry,” he says, barely above a whisper.

“It’s okay,” you whisper too.

The silence settles for longer.

He sighs. “It’s not you, it’s me,” he says out of nowhere.

“Huh?” you turned your body a little to face him, and he was looking up at the ceiling as if there was something across the texture that he was trying to decipher.

“I don’t want you thinking that the reason I can’t-,” he pauses, to think carefully about his words, “...that the reason I can’t return your feelings is because of you, or anything you’ve done. It’s been a while since I’ve liked anyone to be honest, and I’m just really not looking to date right now.”

You’re hurt by his words. Because even if he didn’t want to date anyone, you thought that he would’ve at least tried to for you. You thought that he had at least some feelings that the two of you could’ve worked off of. “Why don’t you want to date anyone?”

“Reasons.”

“Obviously. What reasons?” you prod. When he doesn’t respond, you sigh. “If it’s something traumatic, I get it. My hamster died in the fourth grade,” you say, “I’ve never known peace since.”

He turns onto his side to face you with a soft and amused smile on his face. “Sorry to hear that. What was your hamster’s name?”

You try not to feel hot from the burn of his gaze and you turn onto your back to look up at the ceiling again. “Mr. Guilmon,” you say.

“Like…guilmon from digimon?

“Mhm.”

“You like digimon?”

“Oh yeah, I used to watch it all the time when I was a kid. My mom wanted to name my hamster ‘Scout’ but I refused,” you tell him, blinking a few times as the memories from your childhood come back to you. A small smile makes its way onto your face.

“I love digimon,” he says, fast, like he couldn’t contain it. 

“Really?” you give him a sidewards glance, a little surprised.

He hesitates slightly before sighing, turning over in the opposite direction to reach for his wallet on his nightstand. You feel the fabric of the duvet stretch across you from the movement, and you remember just how intimate this all felt. He’s laying on his back again, holding his wallet up in the air with both hands as he flips it open, then slides his credit card up out of the slot, and shows it to you. Digimon themed. You have to purse your lips together to hold back your laughter.

He turns his head to look at you when you can’t help but let a little noise escape your mouth, and you can see through the laughter-induced sheen of tears in your eyes that he’s frowning.

“Hey–”

“I’m sorry–” you're fully laughing at this point, hand over your mouth to try to contain yourself, “it’s just– oh my god— you’re the last person I would’ve expected to have been such a nerd.” 

“I’m not a nerd–” he tries to argue but you snatch the card out of his hand to study it closer, and also to memorize the numbers on the back.

“Popular soccer boy Gojo Satoru,” you’re giggling, “has a custom Digimon credit card.”

When he tries to reach for it, you stretch your arm off to the left. His weight leans on you, chest pressing against the curve of your shoulder, arm extending across you as he tries to grab his card back. “Quit it,” he mutters. 

“No,” you say, holding it further to your left, weakly trying to push him away from you.

“Quit it,” he repeats, face scowling now with what looks like embarrassment, and he holds his upper body up by the elbow, leaning over you even more to reclaim it, “or else.”

“Or else, what?” you say through wheezes, and it seems like something in him snaps because suddenly he grabs your wrist, hard, pinning it down onto the mattress, holding it there next to your head, and his entire upper body is towering over you. Shocked, you’re breathing fast, your eyes darting across his face, and he’s looking at you with a furrowed brow and a tense jaw.

“Or else I won’t keep my promise,” he says through a harsh breath, his voice low and rough.

You’re stunned underneath him. “What promise?” you ask, breathlessly. 

He leans down closer, to the point where the fringe of his hair brushes against your forehead. “My promise to hold myself back from you.”

You swallow hard, chest heaving. You feel the heat of his hand on your wrist burning through to your veins. You try to squirm slightly in his grip, but he just presses your wrist down further into the mattress.

He glances at your lips, eyes dilated and stern, and leans down even closer to you. “Do you have any idea how bad I’ve been wanting to punish you for leaving me in that bathroom by myself?” he says in a voice so husky you feel the arousal build at your center the second your head registers it.

You can’t find your words. He keeps his eyes locked on yours, as if to make sure yours stay on his too, and you’re docile under him until he’s distracted you enough to pinch his credit card between two of his fingers and discretely pull it out from your grip. He then lets go of your wrist and disappears out of your line of sight when he flops back down onto the mattress next to you, tucking his card back into his wallet.

“But I won’t. Because I’m a nice person, and will respect your space. Or whatever.” 

You don’t know what to say, your hand finding a place over your heart as you try to take deep breaths to calm yourself down.

“We should probably go to sleep,” he sighs after a minute, tossing his wallet back onto the nightstand and reaching over to turn off the light.

It’s dark now in the room, the only light coming from through the layered fabrics of the curtains. It's a cold light, possibly from the moon and maybe some dim neighboring white street lights, but it’s enough to where you could still see the slight texture of the ceiling, and maybe his face.

You both spend a few minutes trying to get comfortable. You try not to bump your butt against him, or brush your chest against his arm, but it happens a couple times anyway, and you mentally curse yourself for it. The rise of the duvet fabric from his chest becomes shallow with his breathing, and you think he’s fallen asleep, but then the two of you turn over at the exact same time, facing each other, eyes flying open and gazes meeting. It startles the both of you, but neither of you look away or say a word. The two of you just sit in the moment for what feels like hours, and very could’ve easily been. 

You’re the first to break the silence. “You know, there was a time where I thought that you weren’t even real.” You’re speaking hushed, like you’re afraid someone will hear, even though there’s only two souls in this room right now.

“What?” he asks, a slight raise to his eyebrow. “...why.”

“I don’t know. You’re like this urban legend around campus. You probably don’t know it, since you’re in it, but the world you’re in is very different from the world the rest of us students are in.”

He’s silent for a moment, his face being briefly illuminated by the reflection of a car’s headlights on the windows of the surrounding building. “I think I know what you mean.”

You blink at him. “I thought you would have a few more follow-up questions to that, but I guess you’re surprisingly self-aware.”

He hums to himself. “I think I can just put it into perspective.”

“Perspective?” you ask. You’re hanging onto every single one of his words tonight. You don’t want a single one of them slipping through you, not understood.

“Yeah,” he says, “there are moments where I feel like I’m not in that world anymore. And it feels nice. To get out of it.”

You want to ask him when those moments are, but he’s quick to speak again.

“I guess that means I’m aware of the moments where I am in it, so I know that it exists, if that makes sense? I don’t know.” He looks down at your pajamas, at the dancing sloth at the front, and the crease to his brow relaxes slightly. 

“Mhm, makes sense.”

His eyes are back on you, studying. There’s a strange look on his face that you can’t really comprehend. “I want to know about your world,” he says.

You breathe in deep, and exhale shallow. “My world is simple. I want to be a filmmaker and then live in a little cottage.”

He smiles at you. “A little cottage?”

“Yeah,” you say, “maybe in the countryside. The Italian countryside. With my own garden in the backyard so I can use fresh zucchini in my salads.”

“Any animals? Pets?” he asks, like he’s envisioning it all in his head too. 

“Maybe some chickens,” you say, “I promised Mr. Guilmon I’d name another one of my pets after him someday. I have to keep my promise.”

He nods. “You do.”

There’s another silence, but it doesn’t feel awkward this time.

“Did you turn your photos in to your professor?” he asks.

“Yeah, I did,” you tell him. “Earlier this week.”

“Nice. What about your reference for grad school?”

“I asked him for it.”

“Oh?” His eyebrows raise. “How’d it go?”

“Mm…I was really nervous, but it went well. He said he’d do it.”

There’s such a tenderness to his expression that you feel so compelled to kiss him right now. “That’s awesome. I’m proud of you. That’s one step closer to your dream.”

You purse your lips together from his words, sitting with the warm feeling in your chest. You want to thank him again, but instead all you say is “we’re even now.”

He lets out a small chuckle. It comes from his throat. “You’ve said that so many times.”

“I know.” Because you can’t believe it’s all over. This little arrangement between the two of you. You don’t want it to be over. “I can’t remember when the first time I said it was.”

“That night,” he answers you fast and with certainty, like it was at the forefront of his mind, “when you drove over rocks. And we sat together on the curb. And I realized how badly you take care of your car. You don’t need thousands of chain restaurant napkins in your glovebox, by the way. No matter how much you might think you do.”

“Wow. I was almost romanced by you for a second, but you ruined it,” you mumble.

You’re instantly taken back to that night. You remember the gentle quality in his eyes as he stared up at the stars, and you can still see the reflection of that sky in his eyes right now with the way he’s looking at you. 

“I really liked you that night,” you whisper, “I wish you were like that all the time.”

“Am I not like that all the time?” he asks, voice soft to match yours.

“No,” you say, “sometimes you’re mean.”

His eyes on you are gentle, somewhat careful. “I’m sorry for being mean.” 

You wonder if you can change his mind. If you can will him to like you back, if you can will him into wanting a relationship with you. You want to be his exception, not his rule.

“It’s okay. I’m mean sometimes, too,” you say, “mean to myself for sharing a bed with a guy that doesn’t like me.” He’s looking at your lips as you speak. “I’m bad like that.”

“You’re not bad,” is all he says.

“I am,” you say, and you inch closer to him, until there’s hardly any space between the two of you. You look up at him, faces inches away. You feel so safe with him, and yet you also feel scared, because you like him so much that you would let him ruin you if he wanted to. You press a flat palm to his shirt, searching for his heart, and you find that it’s beating fast in his chest. “I’m a bad woman, Satoru.”

“y/n,” he says, like a warning.

“I mean it,” you whisper.

“You said you’d kill me if I touch you,” he reminds you, sounding a little breathless.

“I can’t kill you, you’re way stronger than me,” you whisper, “so touch me.” Your hand is gripping onto the fabric of his shirt now, tight, with desire. He’s looking at you with a whole lot of desire too, but there was something else there as well. “Please.”

He wraps his hand around your wrist–the heat of his touch that you so badly wanted, craved, finally on you–but it’s to pull you away from him. Your grasp on his shirt releases and he brings your hand to the front of your chest, laying it down gently before letting it go. Your wrist lays limp there, missing his touch. Limp in front of your beating heart.

“Let’s just go to sleep, okay?” he says softly. 

Your eyes widen when you look at him, and you couldn’t even hide the hurt that settled across your face if you tried. Gaze dropping to his chest, you see the way it was rising with every breath he took, and for the second time in this life, you’ve felt so utterly rejected by him. You give him a compliant nod, and scootch back away from him before turning away. He stays as he is, watching your back, and you can feel his gaze on the nape of your neck. 

Counting the minutes to fall asleep felt exhausting, but the last thing you remember before you closed your eyes was the feeling of a tear trickling down onto your pillow, wet and cold against your cheek.

–

You wake up the next morning to an empty bed, and an even emptier feeling heart. There’s also this weird feeling of disappointment within you, and you don’t really know why.

Grabbing your phone on the nightstand, you quickly search for the email with the men’s soccer team practice schedule, and you see that they had a sharp 8am practice this morning before the game in the afternoon. The time reads 6:37am, and you’re wondering where Gojo went so early in the morning before heading off to the practice field.

You went back to sleep for a couple hours, and then woke up again. By the time you took a shower, got dressed, and went downstairs to the hotel lobby to eat breakfast, it was already 10:00am and it was time to make it to the field so you could set up and calibrate your camera prior to taking photos for the match. Following Utahime’s gameday instructions, you took a cab to the location with all of your gear.

The Kyoto soccer stadium was less of a stadium and more of an extremely large and open expanse of grass that had enormous silver metal stands stretching across the perimeter. It was something you would expect of an area in the countryside, but security was still somehow tight across the fenced off area. 

It was still a couple hours before the game, so the field was bustling with pre-game set-ups and the stands were empty. There were a few sports canopies being put up, as well as a small truck with workers that were working to stock up the hydration stations. A few men in suits were seated at tables with notepads and clipboards, looking busy in conversation and on what sounded like business calls. As you walk down the sidelines, you notice a few other people checking the distances between the goals and the chalk markings across the field. The stands were extremely close to all of the action, and when you look to the right, you see a couple of familiar faces there.

“Ah, y/n! We’re over here.”

You approach the group of three people, all seated on the lowest metal bench of one of the spectator sections. There were a bunch of tripods, cameras, cases, and laptops sprawled across in front of them. You recognize Hana and Minato, but you don’t recognize the other man sitting with them. You had met Hana and Minato at the game against Osaka last week, they were both professional photographers for the newsletter.

Hana hops off the bench and comes up to you. “It’s seriously so cool you’re here with us and that Utahime got you this gig,” she says to you with a smile. “Make sure your schedule is free on nights after matches, all us photographers usually get dinner together afterwards. You’re the baby out of us, so we’ll pay for you.”

You return her smile with one of your own. “That’s sweet, and sure I’ll try to.” 

You glance at the man whose name you didn’t know, your gaze meeting his, and soon enough he’s jumping up onto his feet too and making his way over to you.

“Ah, this is Kaito. Kai for short,” Hana says, gesturing to the man, and then to you.

Kai extends his hand out for you to shake. He’s tall and a bit lean. His style is really boyish—totally nailing the street photographer outfit with the white shirt underneath a flannel one, and some Carhartt pants paired with some Vans. You reach out to shake his hand, and he holds onto it for a second longer than you would’ve expected.

“Hi,” you greet him and tell him your name.

“That’s a nice name,” he says with a smile.

Hana claps her hands together. “Okay! We all know each other now, that’s great. We should get started prepping before the players get here, I believe they’re scheduled to be here in an hour.” She walks over to the benches and picks up her digital camera. Minato grabs his as well as his tripod, then walks over to Hana’s side. “The way we usually do it is to split the field into corners, and each of us works that perimeter. The videographers are here too, so just make sure you don’t accidentally knock over or stand in front of one of their cameras.”

All three of you nod at her and you unzip your case to take your film camera out. Kai is next to you, looking at the device in your hands curiously.

“Kai, you can work with y/n for today since it’s her first day. Split up those two corners over there,” Hana says, pointing to the other end of the field. You and Kai look in that direction. “Minato and I will take the other short end.”

With a few more discussions and detailed instructions, the four of you disperse to your assigned locations. You’re a step ahead of Kai, although he should really be the one leading your stride since you’re the new one here, but he soon enough catches up to you.

“Is that a Canon AE-1?” he asks you, pointing to your camera.

You look at him a little surprised. “Yeah, it is. As vintage as they get.”

“Sweet, I used to shoot on film too. Second-hand?” 

“No, third. Still cost me an arm and a leg, though,” you sigh.

He laughs. “They’re not that expensive.”

“I’m a broke college student. I sometimes have to choose between paying rent and eating food,” you say to him.

He kicks at a random can on the grass, sending it flying forward, instead of picking it up. “Yeah, definitely don’t miss those days.”

“When did you graduate?” you ask.

“From UTokyo two years ago,” he says. 

You bend over to pick up the can he kicked and jog a little to the trashcan nearby, tossing it in, then jog back to him. “That’s nice. You’ve been doing this for two years?”

“Yup,” he says to you as the two of you reach the corner of the field outlined by freshly drawn chalk. He kneels down on the grass, sets his camera case down, and opens it up. Your jaw drops.

“Is that a—Leica camera?” you ask him, shocked.

He smirks up at you. “Sure is.”

“Oh, so you’re just rich, then,” you sit down on the grass to look at it with interest, marveling at its condition.

“Nope. I’ll bet I got it for cheaper than your Canon there,” he points to the camera hung at your neck.

You meet his gaze. “No way.”

“Way,” he says, pulling out the attachable lens before wiping at it with a microfiber cloth, “I know a guy. He sells used cameras. The only issue is you’ve gotta refurbish them yourself.” 

You sigh. “Wonderful. Because I would know how to do that.”

He lets out a half-laugh, and you glance up briefly to look at his expression. He was amused. “It’s pretty easy, just gotta do it once. And then you’ll have a used Leica that works brand-new, all for just under a hundred-thousand yen.”

You’re looking at him with surprise again. “That cheap?”

“Yup.”

“Wow…” Your finger plays with the lens cap on your camera.

“If you want, I can send you his info. But if you want to meet up with him, it’ll probably have to be facilitated through me,” Kai says, “He takes clients by recommendation. No use in selling a used camera to an idiot that doesn’t know how to refurbish it. He’s looking for niche photographers that have the interest.”

You press your lips together, considering it. “Sure.”

He hands his phone to you. “Alright, gimme your number.”

You hesitate for a second before typing your number into his contacts then hand it back and watch as he saves it in his phone. “Canon girl. Won’t forget ya.”

The two of you make work for a second, eyeing the field and mapping out angles of where to get the best shots during play. Kai gives you some pointers and you’re marveling at how good they are.

“Not really used to shooting on film anymore,” he mumbles, peering through the hole on your camera when you handed it over to him, “but usually a one over five-hundred shutter speed works well for sports. I’d switch between that and over two-fifty though, to avoid a blurry finish.”

“Thanks,” you say to him, wanting to write all this down to not forget it. “Wish I knew this last week.”

“Why shoot on film?” he asks out of nowhere, handing your camera back to you. “Why not digital?”

“Oh, it’s a personal interest,” you say to him, adjusting your shutter speed as he suggested, “I think there’s a charm to it. I want to be a movie maker, and shoot on film medium.”

He frowns at you. “How are you going to do that?”

You tilt your head at him, shuffling on the grass. “I’m going to apply to the film graduate program at UTokyo to start.”

He laughs at that from where he’s seated across from you. “Really? That’s a waste of your time.”

Your heart sinks a little in your chest from his tone. “Why would it be a waste of my time?”

He turns to face you more directly. “y/n, trust me, I know this career path. Been there, done that. Millions of film majors like yourself always have these big-ass dreams like ‘I want to become a director, I want to do screenplay’ etc., but only one or two of them actually succeed.” 

Your shoulders sulk. It’s not the first time you’ve heard those words from someone—your own parents practically recited them word-for-word before you headed off to college—but you had been doing really well all of senior year to ignore that nagging little voice in your head. It was honestly quite triggering to hear it all again right now. “Well, I think I can do it.”

He lets out a short scoff. “You sound real convincing there.” When he catches sight of your upset expression, he straightens his back a little. “My bad. Just trying to look out for you. I’m your senior in this industry. I know my way around these things. Trust me.”

You nod slowly. “I know. Thanks.” Part of you wonders if he’s just projecting.

“Well anyway,” he shrugs, “I think you should just focus on photography for now. It’s the safest career option for you to do.”

“I guess you’re right,” you say, wanting to diffuse the conversation.

The two of you disperse to your assigned corners once the stands start to fill with spectators. Shortly after, the players make their introductions onto the field, and you can see Gojo across the field. He’s too far to read his expression, but for some reason when you look at him, that disappointed feeling from this morning comes back to you. You try to push it down and just focus on your task at hand.

UTokyo does well during the match, and Gojo seems to be playing much better than the Osaka game last week, scoring two goals within the first half. There were a couple of times where there were throw-ins near your corner, and you made eye contact with him as he’s breathing heavily, wiping the sweat off his face with his jersey, and every time you look at him, that melancholic feeling washes over you again. UTokyo wins 3-2, the crowd evidently disappointed as they were rooting for their home team, and by the time the disgruntled fans started to clear the stands, the sun was setting over the horizon and the sky was a golden color.

The referees on the field begin to oversee the post-match proceedings with the players. Kai comes around to meet you at your corner, and Hana and Minato arrive there too.

“Hey team! How’d it go?” Hana asks, a little out of breath from her journey over here.

“Went fine,” Kai responds.

“It was a little tricky,” you comment, “but I think my photos came out well.”

Hana nods. “Alright, sounds good. Are we still on for dinner tonight?”

Kai and Minato nod, and then all three sets of eyes are on you. You hesitate for a moment, and look off past them to where you see the group of soccer players in conversations with the coaches and referees. You see Gojo standing there, his hands on his hips as he peered across the field, tilting his neck to the side repeatedly, and you realize he had been doing that all match long. That unsettling feeling within you starts to brew once again. “Uh, I’m really sorry, but I’m not feeling very well. I think I might just head back to the hotel.”

Hana and Minato nod at you with a concerned expression, while Kai just looks disappointed.

“Okay, well, I hope you feel better,” she says.

You end up taking an Uber back to the hotel in haste, not wanting to run into Gojo or any of the other soccer players after their match, and make it to the room, using the key card that Gojo gave you to get inside. You take a shower to freshen up, and by the time it’s 7pm, you’re starving. You put on a simple outfit and make it downstairs into the lobby of the hotel, about to go peruse the nearby dining options, but right when you step out of the elevator, you run into Gojo.

There’s a look of pleasant surprise on his face and you take in his appearance. He was still wearing his soccer jersey, covered in grass and dirt stains, and his face was slightly flushed from exertion. You figured he just came back from the field.

“Hey,” he says, “sorry, I was just about to head over there.” He jerks his head off towards the lobby, and you glance in that direction. There was a group of maybe thirty people gathered around the lounging areas and high-tables over at the business suite, and you recognize them as UTokyo’s soccer players, along with Coach Yaga and other team staff. The players were still all clad in their uniforms, carrying all their stuff, and there were plays of today’s game rerunning across the TV screens. You realize they’re probably prepping for interview questions for tomorrow’s conference.

“Oh, please, go ahead,” you say to him.

He tilts his head at you. “Are you doing alright?” 

You were aware that things might feel awkward after last night, and that your cheeks would probably feel hot like they do now the next time you had to talk to him. Your mind takes you back to the memories, when you think about how badly you wanted him to stay with you in the room because of that hollow feeling in your chest from missing him, despite how you knew it was bad for you. Because this man standing in front of you doesn’t like you in the way that you like him. 

And then it clicks. The reason for that feeling of disappointment you’ve had since the moment you woke up today.

When you glance up at Gojo this time, you see him differently than you had from a second ago. You finally notice the slight dark circles under his eyes, and figure out that the reason he’s been tilting his neck to the side all day was because he was trying to stretch out a kink. You vaguely recall that moment you woke up in the middle of the night, and your sleepy brain registered that there was no longer the dip of him in the mattress next to you.

“When did you leave the room?” you ask him. You know your voice is quiet when he has to lean down a bit to hear you.

He takes his time answering, indulging in a few breaths. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” you say, starting to sound hostile, “you left during the night, didn’t you?”

He doesn’t deny it.

“You left once I fell asleep,” you say, eyes widening with realization.

He sighs. “Yes.”

“Where did you go to sleep?” you ask, trying to keep your tone level.

“Suguru’s room had an extra couch. I pushed them together.”

You felt sick and sad, feeling something worse than rejection right now. There was a part of you that still thought that all of this from him was just a joke. A prank. That he was finally going to say just kidding, I like you too. The reason you’ve been so disappointed since the minute you woke up today was because there was a part of you that thought you were going to wake up this morning with his arms wrapped around you, back pressed tight to his chest while he whispers sweet nothings in your ear of how much he likes you, of how much he wants you, of how much he wants to be with you.

“Why? Even after I said I didn’t want you to have bad sleep?” Your voice was laced with hurt. You didn’t even know how to explain to him why it upset you, because deep down you’re scared it isn’t even valid.

“It’s fine,” he says, “I played fine today. And we won.”

“You could’ve stayed. Do you really hate me that much?” Your words are shooting to kill now. “So I’m good enough to finger in a bathroom at a frat party, but not good enough to sleep next to?”

He furrows his brow. “I don’t understand why we’re arguing about this,” he says, tone starting to match yours, “you’re the one that wanted space. I was just trying to respect that.”

“If you really wanted to respect my space, you wouldn’t have agreed to share the bed with me in the first place.”

“y/n,” he says, “that’s not fair.”

“You should’ve known better.” You’re breathing fast, tone searingly accusive. “You know that I’m trying to get over you, and that I’m vulnerable, and that I’m probably confused about a lot of things right now.”

“I ask if we could at least be friends, you say no because it’d be some recipe for disaster, then you practically beg me to stay with you and tell me to touch you while we’re laying down together. You don’t think that’s confusing for me too?” he counters.

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment at the memory of your desperate actions last night, and he instantly looks apologetic. You feel like you’re being unfair, but you feel like he’s being unfair too.

“I’m the one with feelings,” is all you say in your defense.

He swipes at his chin roughly with the back of his hand, smudging the dirt up to his cheek, and then closes his eyes for a second, like the weight of today has finally hit him all at once. He looks exhausted. “Right,” he says, softly, “I’m sorry.”

“Yo, Satoru!” one of his teammates yells from the center of the lobby. “Coach needs you, man.”

He rubs a hand down his tired face then throws a haphazard glance over his shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a sec,” he calls out and then looks back at you. You can’t make eye contact with him, and just stare at the print on his jersey instead. “I’ll sleep in Suguru’s again tonight. The room is yours.”

There’s a lump in your throat and you feel like you’re about to cry. “Okay.”

He reaches into his shorts pocket and gives you a room card. “Here’s the spare. I don’t need to come grab my stuff for the night, so don’t worry.”

“Okay.”

He sounds like he wants to say more, and you see him take a small step towards you, hand reaching out for you, but this time Coach Yaga’s stern voice is calling out to him too. He sighs. “Good night.”

“Mhm. Thanks.”

He hesitates before he turns on his heel and you watch his back, with that signature #10 stretched across the fabric of his uniforn, as he jogs through the hotel lobby to his teammates.

The walk back to the hotel room is depressing, and you find yourself dragging your feet all the way there. Once you make your way inside, you look around at the room and see some of Gojo’s belongings scattered around, but it didn’t seem like there were any of his essentials. You look down at the spare key card in your hand–a promise from him that he won’t try to upset you anymore tonight–and that lump in your throat from earlier comes back. 

You hated fighting with him. You hated being away from him. Those feelings that you thought would go away just as fast as they came still sat so stubbornly within your heart, and it was becoming impossible to bear. 

You wonder if meeting him was all just some horrible, twisted mistake. 

Before you have time to dwell on that sad sentiment, your phone screen lights up with a message.

|| 7:52pm unknown number: kinda sucks you’re not here with us. was looking forward to showing you more of my camera

|| 7:53pm unknown number: this is kai by the way

The features of your face feel heavy as you look down at your phone screen. You don’t even notice your eyes are teary until you realize the blur of your vision makes it hard to see the letters as you type out a response.

You just wanted a distraction from all this pain.

|| 7:54pm you: can you send me the address? i wanna be there

a/n. grrrr i love a one-bed trope so much grrrrrrrrr it's gonna do it for me every damn time lol. thanks a bunch for reading!! there's still so much that i've got planned for the series haha i think the second half is gonna be a lot crazier than the first. super excited to write it though. by the way! i'm starting a choso x reader zombie au series, if you'd like to read more about it and/or be added to the taglist, you can reply to this post here also if you want to be added to taglist in general, i'd recommend making sure your tags are on!! since i've noticed a lot of people have them off

➸ take me to chapter nine!

taglist: @who-can-touch-my-boob @therealestpussyeater @lost-resonance @hojoslutoru @foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @bsdicinindirdim @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @btszn @prince-wyiilder @semra4 @gojosimp26 @drthymby @ninitoru @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @horisdope @sykostyles @aquaberrydolphin @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @ri-sa20 @purplehallow11 @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @bxddiebloss @chwesuh-imnida @mo0nforme @viware @still-fking-single @megumisthirdog @gintokhi @karvokr @cierocanteat @imjustaweirdnerd (hope i didn't miss anyone thank u all sm!!)

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo smut #jjk gojo #geto suguru #gojo satoru angst #nanami kento #choso kamo #series #yaga masamichi #alternate universe #college #college au #soccer #sports au #fraternity #sorority #tw drinking #partying #anime #romance #smut #fluff #angst #jjk smut #long fic #jjk series #ongoing series

[thelargefrye]

STARSEED : PERFECT LOVE … mature one - shot

pairing : king!hongjoong x concubine!m!reader (ft. concubine!seonghwa and guard!yunho)

genre : fantasy au, slight historical au, royal au, smut, romance, sprinkle angst (i'm sorry i just can't help myself)

word count : 3.7k

warnings : language, slight jealousy (mainly yn), mentions of working in a brothel

smut warnings : unprotected sex, anal sex, oral, slight cumplay / eating

note : for my secret santa @yourfatherlucifer! i hope you enjoy it and happy holidays!! no tag list for this since its a present!

as the king’s favorite, you had many advantages and most of those included being with king in a way no one else could.

something felt uneasy in your stomach. like a swarm of moths flocking around inside of you. it was a feeling you didn't like, but you couldn't figure out how to get rid of it.

"what's wrong, moonflower?" you look up at the voice that snaps you out of your dazed thoughts. your eyes easily lock with seonghwa's figure who is standing behind you. his features are so soft and comforting as he smiles down at you.

his hands come to rest on your shoulders, gently massaging them and you feel the uneasy go down. but not disappear. "hmm?" he cocks his head to the side and you swallow the lump in your throat.

"i don't know... i'm just nervous i guess."

"nervous? about what?"

"hongjoong hasn't requested to see me in a while," you say with a sigh as you feel seonghwa's fingers press into your shoulders and you slowly feel the knots go away. seonghwa always was good a massages.

"i'm sure he's just busy, y/n. he is our king after all," seonghwa tries to reassure you and you appreciate his attempt, but it still doesn't settle the uneasiness. you hate it.

it's been several days since hongjoong last came to see you or even requested for you to spend the night with him. basically almost a week, and he's never went longer than a day without coming to see you. you couldn't help the thoughts running through your mind. was he still interested in you? did he still love you like he claimed?

you know he hasn't been by himself. having heard that he's been requesting for seonghwa as of late. your eyes flicker back up to the male standing behind you. seonghwa... he was so beautiful and kind. you don't blame hongjoong for taking him as a concubine, because you too fell in love with him. it wasn't hard.

perhaps hongjoong has just fallen for seonghwa harder and enjoys his company more than yours. the uneasiness returns tenfold the longer you think about these questions.

"moonflower?" seonghwa's voice once again brings you back to the present, his hand coming to rest on your jaw as he turns it to look at you. his eyes filled with worry as he looks at you.

you don't want to admit it, but you're completely jealous of seonghwa. how could you not be jealous of your lover? even when you both were growing up, he was the star of the village that everyone either wanted to marry or be. even when your village was raided and you were both sold off to the brothel, seonghwa was seen as the favorite "jewel" that everyone wanted. you were always second place to him, your own lover.

hongjoong probably only kept you as a concubine because of seonghwa.

"y/n, what's wrong?"

you open your mouth to speak; however, a knock at your chamber doors stops you. it opens to reveal yunho stepping inside, his armor hugging him nicely as he stands tall and proud.

"excuse me for interrupting, but his highness as requested to see you, y/n," you feel your heart jump into your throat as you stand up. you feel your palms sweat at the negative thoughts that fill your head.

this is it, he's going to tell you that he doesn't want you anymore. he's going to dismiss you and you'll never see him or seonghwa or any of the others again.

"hey, y/n," seonghwa grasps your wrist and you turn to look at him. "come find me later. so we can talk, okay?"

"okay, hwa," he smiles at your words before he's quickly leaning over to kiss you. his lips feel soft against your skin and you have to will yourself to not melt into his touch. thankfully before you can he's pulling away, his touch lingering on your skin even when you walk out of your chambers and down the grand hall.

yunho trails behind you, not saying anything as he escorts you to hongjoong's personal chambers.

"thank you for escorting me, yunho," you say looking at the guard with a smile. yunho returns your smile, bowing his head a little bit and you can't help but think he might have gotten taller since you last saw him. he's definitely gotten buffer, probably training with san and yeosang instead of resting. his brown hair is soft looking and he looks much happier now than when he did years ago when you first met him.

"of course, y/n," he says before his eyes are darting down each end of the hallway. there's no one else but the two of you and yunho takes the chance to lift your hand up and kiss the back it. he lets go of your hand before he's standing tall and adjusting his armor before he's turning and making his way back down the hallway.

and then you're left alone in front of hongjoong's chamber doors. you feel an ugly twist in your stomach as you knock on the oak doors and wait for his voice to let you in.

"come in," god, how long has it been since you've heard his voice. even just hearing him speak is enough to make you weak.

opening the door, you are immediately greeted to the sight of hongjoong lounging at his table, sitting in one of his plush, velvet chairs. his royal garments have been discarded, leaving him in only his thin, silk blouse and black trousers. his brown hair framing his face perfectly and you feel a wave of butterflies fill your stomach as your heart beat picks up.

hongjoong turns to see who has arrived and upon seeing you, his stoic face quickly turns into one of happiness. he stands up and makes his way over to you as you close the door behind you.

"my moonflower," he says, arms open as he brings you into a hug. his strong scent fills your nostrils as his arms wrap around your form and you can't help but to return the hug as you bury your face into his neck. you hear hongjoong let out a small laugh as his hand comes up to run over your head. "i've missed you so much."

you can't help but doubt his words. the knowledge that he's been seeing seonghwa again and again comes crashing in. if he truly missed you then why did he wait till now to request you?

"i've missed you too, your highness," you tell him, you can't help the mix of emotions that swim through you. you want to question him, but you know it will do no good. it will only make you look jealous.

"come on now, y/n," he says with a grin as he pulls away just enough to look at you, "we're alone, there's no need to call me that."

you can't help but feel flushed at his words, "sorry, just a habit," you say a little embarrassed, but hongjoong brushes it off with a laugh. "so... did you call on me solely because you missed me?"

"ah, yes, i actually have something i want to talk to you about?" he says before he's taking you by the hand and guiding you to his lavish and overly large bed. you sit down when the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed.

"talk about?" you feel your nerves bubble up when you watch hongjoong walk away from you and over to his desk that is filled with an assortment of stuff, but mainly parchment papers with writing all over them. however, its none of the papers that he picks up, but a small ornament box instead.

hongjoong holds the box as if it will break any second before he's gently sitting down next to you on his bed. you look at the box with confusion before you're are looking back up at hongjoong.

"this box is very important to the royal family," he begins to say as he runs his hand over it. you take notice of the white moonflower – the lunar tear – craving on the top of it. "my mother gave this to me when i became king," he adds on and you can't help but feel your palms start to sweat. "when she gave it to me, she told me about the duty my family had to the goddess and to protect this box."

"what's inside it?" you couldn't help but ask as you reached your own hand out. not to touch the box, but to touch hongjoong's hand.

"my mother told me its the spirit of a great evil. that centuries and centuries ago, pandora's soul was trapped in this very box by the goddess," he explains and for a second you want to laugh at his words. you think he's messing with you, but when you look at his face you can tell he's serious.

however, despite this information he is sharing with you, you can't help but want to ask him the one question that stands in your brain. "why are you showing me something this valuable, hongjoong?"

"because, my moonflower," he says with a smile as his hand comes up to cup your face. "i want to give it to you, to protect for me."

"me? h-hongjoong have you gone crazy or something?" you are completely caught off guard by his words. he wants to give you the box that supposedly has the soul of the most evil spirit the world has seen.

pandora is a person of myth; however, its been proven throughout the history of the world that she was just as real as you and hongjoong are. her goal was to bring about the end of the world. how she attempted to bring about the end of the world tended to change slightly, but her goal was still the same. kill any and everything.

and here, hongjoong was giving you this box to trust and hold. "hongjoong..."

"i'm giving entrusting this box because i know i can trust you," he says, leaning over as his lips ghost over your cheek. you feel a chill run down your spine as you look towards your lover right as he rests his forehead against yours. "my favorite flower, the one i love the most," he adds softly as he places the box into your hands.

his words make your heart skip a beat as his hands come up to cup your face. his breath fans against your lips as his hovers closely to yours. just centimeters from touching yours.

"but that's only if you accept the box, my love, i won't force you to take it," he says and that's when you're reminded of the weight in your hands from the small metal box.

you take a deep breath before answering, "of course, i’ll guard it with my heart, joongie." the king's smile is enough to make your heart do a flip.

“that’s not the only reason why i summoned you here though,” hongjoong said, his usual grin on his face as he gently takes the box and sets it on his bedside table.

you feel hongjoong tug on your sleeve and you turn to see his eyes filled with lust and longing and you can't help the smile that tugs at your own lips. "its been way too long since we have been one, don't you think?"

"yes it has, my king."

hongjoong's chamber was filled with a mixture of your moans and the sound of skin slapping skin. your legs were spread wide and you were practically bent in half as hongjoong pounded away at your hole. you couldn't help but arch your back as how hongjoong's cock filled you up.

"you take me so well, moonflower," hongjoong says a grin painting his lips as one of his hands wrap around your own cock, he gives it a firm squeeze that makes you cry out. your lover can't help but let out a laugh as he watches you wither underneath him.

"n-ngh! joongie! p-please!" you cry out as you feel hongjoong hit your sweet spot as he continues to stroke your cock. his thumb runs over your slit and it slowly begins to leak pre-cum that hongjoong uses as lube to stroke you off quicker.

"please what, love? use your words," he's clearly mocking you as he leans down to kiss you before he's pulling out of you and turning you onto your stomach. you can't help but moan at how hongjoong handles you like you were nothing.

"h-hongjoong," you can't help but moan as you feel hongjoong lick at your puckered hole as his hand grabs at your cock again and begins to jerk you off once more. "a-ah fuck! fuckfuckfuck!"

hongjoong laughs as he licks at your hole before he's pulling away. "does it feel good, moonflower?"

"y-yes s-so-so good, joongie!"

you let out another moan when you feel hongjoong enter you once again. you can't help but let out a sigh at hongjoong not only filling you up once again, but also at him finally leaving your poor cock alone. both his hands grip your hips tightly and he begins thrusting into you once again.

you grip the sheets below you tightly as you can't help but feel your eyes roll back as hongjoong's cock massages your prostate. you clench around him tightly as you feel your orgasm build up the longer he fucks you.

"you're so perfect, my flower," hongjoong says as he presses his chest against your back. his hands wandering over your body before they stop of play with your nipples and pinching them harshly which causes you to let out loud cry. "you take my cock so well and your body was made for me."

"n-ngh, yes joongie, only yours," you say in your fucked out daze as you felt hongjoong trail his lips down your back. you felt a pleasurable chill run over your body when hongjoong licks up your spin before his arms are wrapping underneath your armpits in order to pull you up off the bed.

you're pressed flush against hongjoong as he continues to abuse your hole, pounding away as he uses you for his pleasure. not that you mind, you would happily allow hongjoong to use your body to his heart's content in order to pleasure himself and make himself happy.

"you're so beautiful," he says before kissing your cheek. "i love you so much, moonflower," he says and the nickname that him and seonghwa and others always use for you makes your heart skip a beat. you remember when hongjoong had overheard seonghwa call you that nickname and how he had asked if he could call you that ask well.

"if i could marry you, i would in a heartbeat, but t-those bastard ad-visors of mine– fuck!" hongjoong cuts himself off as he does a particularly hard thrust before he's stilling himself inside of you for a moment.

he slowly lets you go as you rest back on his sheets, the cold material feels good against your hot skin. hongjoong moves once more to hover above you as he leans down to kiss you again.

"i wanted to ask..." he begins as he moves at a slower pace this time. "if you would come with me on my next campaign. i can't bare being without you and so i want you to be with me."

"r-really?" his question catches you off guard as you turn to look at him with just as much shock as you feel.

"yes," he says with a little laugh. "i've been trying to find a way to ask you since i got back from my last one and i even asked seonghwa if i should ask you. he scolded me for trying to hog you too much, but he eventually told me to just ask and so... yeah, here i am."

"fuck– hongjoong, of course!" you say when you feel his tip rub against your sweet spot. hongjoong gives you a teasing smile.

hongjoong doesn't say anything as he kisses you one last time before he's focusing back on making the two of you come. and when you finally do, you moan at how you feel hongjoong pumping you full of his cum. you know that when he pulls out, it will leak out of you knowing how much cum the king has.

you are left a panting mess as you feel your own cum panting your stomach. hongjoong pulls out slowly and you whine at how empty you feel as your lover turns you onto your back to look at the mess he had cause.

you watch as hongjoong bends down before licking up most of your cum that painted your skin. he then moves to lean over you before kissing you and you cringe at how you taste yourself on his lips and you can tell hongjoong is enjoying himself.

when he pulls away from your lips, you can't help but pout as he smiles at you softly before he's rolling over to lay next you. he brings his hand up to rest on your waist as he pulls you closer to you.

"i love you, my king," you said and hongjoong looks at you fondly as you brush some hair out of his face.

"i love you too, my moonflower."

its a few hours later when you are finally leaving hongjoong's chambers. your lover of course begged you to stay with him longer, pleading to spend the entire night with him, but you turned him down. not because you didn't want to spend the rest of the night in his embrace, but because you needed to find seonghwa.

you wanted to talk to him as a way to clear your conscious from those jealous thoughts you had earlier.

you kissed hongjoong's pouty lips, "next time we can spend the entire night together, my king."

"yeah, yeah, just go before i change my mind in letting you leave," his tone is full of tease as he rests on his side, his silk blankets the only thing covering his nude body.

you let out a laugh as you reach for the box before making your way out of his chambers and down the hall before you are arriving at the wing that has both yours and seonghwa's private chambers.

standing outside of seonghwa's chambers, you feel a sense of nervousness settle on you as you try to build up the fleeting courage to knock on his door.

then without a second thought, you knocked on his door. you bit your lip as you waited for your lover to open the door, and it felt like ages before you heard the door opening.

your eyes immediately met seonghwa's bright and shining ones. and then he beamed a bright smile at you when he realized who was at your door.

"ah, y/n!" he says your name and you can't help want to hear him say again and again, over and over. "did you go see hongjoong?"

"yeah, i just got back," you tell him and the box he gifted you feels heavy in your hands as you look at seonghwa. "b-but i wanted to talk to you, can i... can i come in?"

"of course, moonflower," seonghwa says before letting you, "how did your visit with hongjoong go?" he asks once the two of you are in his room and away from any prying eyes.

seonghwa had stripped you of your clothes, a wet rag in his hands as he wipes down your body. you felt a warmth spread over you as you felt seonghwa's hands roam around your body. you had to stop yourself from moaning when his hand wrapped around your cock.

"so..." seonghwa begins after he finished wiping you off, "what did you want to talk about?" his head tilts to the side as he watches you redress yourself.

"i wanted to apologize for earlier," you say, feeling embarrassed now that you say it out loud.

"what for, y/n?" seonghwa asks as he comes to sit down next to you on his bed. he takes your hands into his warm ones and sweet scent makes you want to melt into his embrace.

"i thought hongjoong was going to dismiss me from being his concubine because he had been seeing you more than me recently. i was... scared that i would never be able to see you again."

"oh, y/n, i would never let that happen," he says pulling you into his embrace. your head rests against his chest, your cheek pressing into the soft material of his blouse. "i love you so much."

you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by his confession, tears brimming at your waterline as you wrapped your arms around him. "i'm sorry for being jealous, i'm sorry for not being good enough like you."

"you hush now, don't think like that, my love. you are more than enough for me, that's why i love you." you peer up at seonghwa to see him smiling down at you. his hand runs through your hair before he's cupping your face and kissing you.

you immediately melt into the kiss as your hands pull him closer to you. seonghwa moves in order to lay you down onto his bed with him hovering overtop of you. both his and your own hands roam over each other's body, pulling away your clothes so that you are both bare and pressed up again each other like you have been so many times before in the past.

seonghwa kisses down your body, his hands squeezing your flesh as he leaves his own trail of lovebites next to and around the ones hongjoong had left.

and then seonghwa is entering you, your warm hole welcoming his cock as he milks your prostate. your moans fill his chamber as his hips meet your ass and you can't help but feel loved by seonghwa.

eventually, you reach your climax with seonghwa before you're laying together in his bed. the two of you lay so close to each other that your noses graze each other whenever one of you moves.

"seonghwa?"

"yes, y/n?"

"we'll be together forever, right? nothing's going to tear us apart?"

"no, never. together forever." you two share a brief kiss before seonghwa is pulling you to rest your head against his chest. seonghwa smiles down at you before his eyes flicker up at pandora's box that sits idly on the bedside table behind you.

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[runningfrom2am]

leveling the playing field IX

summary: with nowhere else to go after getting caught cheating to help lucy gray, you both make some desperately stupid decisions.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.6k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and mentions of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there

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a/n: here we are!! 'season' two!! thanks so much for reading it and I'm SO so glad lots of people seem to love it :) if you do, please reblog it or leave your thoughts in the replies or in my inbox! i love hearing from you and talking about it so don't be a stranger !

without further adieu,, enter buzzcut coryo <3

next part

Coriolanus's stomach twisted as he could hear your screams from the hall, even though by then he was all the way on the other side of the school. He thought that was unsettling, only for them to abruptly stop just before he left. The silence that followed was so much worse. He didn't get any sleep, sitting on the roof in Grandma'ams rose garden with Tigris all night, wondering if you were dead.

He was just sick about it, even as he left the following morning, so early that the sun was yet to rise. It was a long, painful ride, and he spent the entire thing certain that you were dead. It was his fault, he had only wanted you to come with him, so he wouldn't be alone, but now he truly is alone and he won't even have you to write to back home. Regardless, he would try.

Rather than sit with the idea that it might even be pointless for him to live another day, especially with this unflattering haircut and a uniform that challenged the discomfort of the academy one, he decided to write to you on a paper he had found bunched between the train seats to ease his mind.

Y/N/N,

I hope you're reading this. I hope this gets back to you at home and finds you safe and sound, and you're sitting over your desk with a textbook open getting ready for university in the fall. That's not what's happening though, is it? You're probably dead. I probably killed you. If you are reading this in your room, or your library, or over my shoulder as I write this because you are only alive in what's left of your spirit, I hope you know that I am sorry. I did it because I wanted you with me, because in the moment I was so sure you'd be better off with me in the districts than you would be at home with your father. I think I was wrong. But I still miss you. You meant more to me than I ever told you. I guess, more than I ever told myself either until these last few weeks.

I think I heard them kill you after I left you with the Dean. If they did, boy, did you go out fighting. I always knew you would. I can't stop writing in case I never get to speak to you again. But again, maybe you're not dead, right?

Please tell me you're not dead.

Yours,

Always yours, your Coryo

He smoothes out the wrinkled sheet as he writes, hand shaking through most of it. He doesn't know if he should even bother sending it, or if he should just fold it up and throw it out the window in hopes that the message will find its way to your ghost. No, he has to send it. Otherwise he'll definitely never know, at least not for twenty years, and he couldn't bear that.

The wind hits the trees into the windows of the train as it rolls along the tracks, demanding that the branches be heard against the glass. It reminds him of you. Then again, what doesn't these days? Maybe it was just you letting him know you had read his letter, and that you forgive him. That would give him a semblance of peace for the rest of the ride.

When you woke up, it was impossible to tell what time it was. You only knew that it was dark, and your bedroom door was locked from the outside when you got up and carefully tried to open it only to be blocked by the mechanism.

"I have half the mind to agree with you on the Avox thing." You hear your dad sigh, his voice echoing from his study just down the hall. Your eyes widen and you try the knob again. Yep, still locked. "But we could always send her to Nine or Ten as a nurse. She's not staying here, that's certain."

"I don't want to push your decision, here, but she was saying she would tell everyone. She knows more than we thought, more details." Highbottom was here too, great.

"No, that's impossible. What did she say?"

"She knows we're selling, likely that you're storing it all here somewhere, and she knows it's enough to be treason. I don't know what else she knows, but it's risky business ever letting her out of that room again. The procedure might be our best option, here." You've heard enough, quickly making for your window instead. It's locked as well, but draping your old uniform over the lever gives you enough freedom to crush it with a particularly heavy, hardcover textbook without making much noise.

You change quickly, grabbing a few essentials that you could fit into your book bag, then climb out the window and slide down the back porch column before making as quiet of an escape as possible. Adrenaline carried you a few blocks away, but now, you were unsure what to do. You couldn't return, and you couldn't be seen, and you had a tragic shortage of friends at the moment. You find your feet carrying you toward the building you know Coriolanus lives in.

You're not particularly excited to see him, but with no other options, you're sure you can find it in yourself to be forgiving just this once. You could go to Sejanus's family home, but it's not far enough away, and you're not sure what his father would say. He'd probably call your dad in a second and it would all be for naught- you couldn't risk it. So, Coryo's it was.

You enter the building, walking straight for the elevator. He was in the penthouse, so you just have to hit the very top button and figure it out from there. You've never been to his home before, but he's talked about it plenty. Enough that you could find your way there, at least.

You groan when you quickly realize the elevator doesn't work, looking over at the stairs. It's a tall building, so you've got a long way to go. You wonder how he does this every day as you climb up set after set of stairs, taking note of how the walls are basically crumbling around you.

You knew he didn't have money, that he couldn't eat, but you didn't think he lived like this. No wonder he was so thin, and no wonder he still had any muscle left on his body. It was these damn stairs. That couldn't be it though, that wouldn't explain how his shoulders just seemed to go on for miles- maybe he had some kind of workout routine you never knew about.

You're drawn from your thoughts when you reach the top of the last staircase, hesitating to open the industrial looking door in front of you. Just beyond that was the front door to the Snow penthouse, and now that you're here, you're not sure what to do. Do you knock? You don't even know what time it is.

You sit by the door, deciding to think it over for a bit. It doesn't take you long to fall asleep leaning up against the wall where it meets the dusty floor.

Waking up, you're met with a gasp. "Y/N?" You blink open your eyes, seeing Tigris crouched in front of you, forehead creased with worry. "Are you okay? What are you doing here?"

"Tigris, hello." You mumble, gathering yourself to stand up as she helps you. "I, uh, I didn't know where to go, so..."

"Okay, okay. Come in for a second." She nods, holding your shoulder as she guides you back into the apartment. You squint at the sunrise through the large bay windows, she must have been on her way to work. "Can I get you anything? Some tea? You must be freezing..." She says, immediately shuffling into the kitchen.

"No, no. It's fine. Thank you, though." You insist, trying not to stare at the state the apartment has fallen into.

"Okay, well, please, take a seat. Tell me what's going on."

You nod slightly and move to sit down at their dining table where she joins you, reaching out for your hand which you gratefully take. "Did Coriolanus leave already?" You ask and she nods, giving you a sad smile.

"I must admit, I'm relieved to see you." She says, taking you by surprise. "Coryo thought you were dead. He was just so torn up about it, he said it was his fault but he wouldn't tell me why. I was expecting to see your passing in the papers this morning."

"Well, my days are numbered." You sigh, looking out the window again. The view was stunning. Maybe you would prefer a penthouse to your own large, empty feeling home. "My father and Dean Highbottom were discussing turning me into an Avox as a pity punishment, and I don't doubt that my father would rather bury me than have that on his name. I didn't stick around to hear their decision."

Tigris listens intently, squeezing your cold hands between her own. "And now, I don't know what to do. I had nowhere to go, I'm so sorry to intrude-"

"No, my goodness, please. You are always welcome here." She assured you. "But... what will you do?"

"I have to leave." You nod to yourself. "I have to leave and I can't come back, can I?"

"One day I'm sure it will be safe for you to return." She says, notably trying to put a positive spin on it. "I'll tell you what-" She stands quickly, going over to a hall closet and pulling out a large fur coat. "Take this, it can hide you and keep you warm. Take the next train to Twelve, that's where Coryo went." She places the coat in your lap. "He'll be ecstatic to have you and see that you're well."

You nod, standing up and pulling it on in a hurry. It was a beautiful coat, you could tell it was real fur. This must have belonged to one of their mothers. "Thank you, Tigris."

"There's another train headed there in about twenty minutes, if you rush you can make it. I had to check the schedule last night for him. Don't buy a ticket, just climb in a transport car from the opposite side, not the platform." She instructs you hurriedly,

You dig in your bag as you both head for the door, pulling out a handful of money and rifling through it to give some to her. You'll need some, but she will too.

"Here, Tigris. Take this." You say as she holds the door for you, and she instantly is shaking her head.

"No, no. I couldn't." She smiles awkwardly, waving a hand at you. "You'll need it more than I do, Coryo will be sending us cheques."

You smile at her understandingly, holding it out to her again. "If not for your help, then for this lovely jacket. Please take it. I insist."

Tigris sighs, taking it from your hand before pulling you into a hug which you gladly return. "Tell him we love him, okay?"

"He knows," You say, chin resting on her shoulder. "But I will."

It was dark again when your train reached its final stop, and you were curled up under the coat trying to sleep. You scramble to get up, having to bolt from the train before anyone came to unload the car.

Unfortunately, you didn't get the privilege of having a place to stay when you arrived, so once you're out of sight of the train, the best you can do is wander.

You don't have to wander long before you hear music. You didn't realize people were happy here, so the sounds of laughter and shouting and dancing coming from inside what looked to be an abandoned building made you tilt your head at the idea. Maybe you would just sit outside, around the side of the building where you won't be seen and you can listen.

You don't even get the chance to sit before you hear the singing start. It's Lucy Gray. You mentally scold yourself for not thinking of her sooner as you stand again quickly, finding yourself quite lightheaded. You must be hungry. Maybe there will be some food inside, or maybe you can find talk to Lucy Gray and maybe she'll let you stay with her. Just until you get yourself situated here.

Clutching your new coat tightly around yourself you walk in after attempting to dust off and salvage your clothes. Your favourite skirt and shoes took quite a beating throughout the day, and you're disappointed, to say the least. Hopefully Lucy Gray has a washing machine, but you doubt it. Did these people even know what a washing machine is? By the look of everyone in the room, the answer was a definite no.

Sure enough, Lucy Gray was on stage, singing her heart out. You had never seen her smile so wide, of course, and the kids surrounding her onstage were just as talented as she was at all their instruments. You've never seen live music like this before, only classical or opera where everyone sat quietly and listened until the end. This environment was entirely new to you.

Not wanting to interrupt, you wait until Lucy Gray steps offstage and her spot is replaced with a little blonde girl who couldn't have been older than ten.

"Give it up for the amazing Lucy Gray Baird!" The girl shouts into the mic, gesturing to your friend before more music started to play. "She'll be back, she's just taking a little break, but until then, you lot are stuck listenin' to me."

This is your chance. You push through the crowd and step into the hall you saw Lucy Gray go down. "Lucy Gray?" You call out hopefully, watching your step as to not roll a heel. In hindsight, these shoes were not ideal for the journey you took, but your options were limited by a time crunch.

"Lucy Gray?" You ask again, turning a corner and peeling into a large open room. It's a few moments before your eyes land on her, and she turns to face you having heard you walk in.

"Oh my days, I thought I recognized that voice!" She smiles, opening her arms and running up to you. "Y/N, my word, what are you doin' here?" Her excitement fades quickly into concern as she drops her arms from around you.

"Long story..." You chuckle nervously, pulling at your coat again as she nods for you to continue. "We got caught, for the compact. And the snakes, somehow. Coriolanus put our handkerchiefs that you used in the tank so they wouldn't attack you, I guess. I didn't know. Then they pulled us out of class the next day, he told them it was me, so then I put up a fight and they sedated me. When I woke up I was at home and they were talking about having my tongue cut out and turning me into one of those servants but I'm sure my dad would rather have me dead. So," You sigh, trying to summarize it as quickly as possible. "I ran."

Lucy Gray shook her head, mouth agape in shock at all the information she just took in. "Okay, wait... So they were going to kill you?"

You nod.

"But that teacher of yours seemed so nice."

"Sorry?"

"Yeah, he gave me some money and escorted me into the train himself."

You scoff, shaking your head. "He's never liked either of us, but that's only because I have dirt on him. I don't know what Coryo did."

"Well," Lucy Gray sighs, rubbing your shoulders gently. "I'm glad you're here. That you're safe."

"You too." You smile. "Can I just say, too, we were so proud of you. We were so lucky to be your mentors."

"I count myself the lucky one." She grins. "Let's move on, shall we? On the up and up."

"Yes, sounds lovely." You grin at her.

"Can I get you some water? Liquor? What do you need?" She asks, turning at that and going over to a bench in the middle that had a few water bottles.

"I would love some water." You breathe out, joining her and sitting down as she hands one to you.

"Lucy Gray, could I ask you for a really big favour?" You say after taking your first sip.

"Please." She nods.

"Can I stay with you?"

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[unreliablesnake]

Bliss (Ghost x f!reader)

Summary: Ghost gives in to his feelings, putting the fact he's above you in the ranks aside, and meets you after your latest mission.

Note: Part 2 of this, but it can be read as a stand-alone. / Here's the happy ending, I hope you'll like it. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button.

Warning: SMUT, MINORS DNI! Afab!reader. Fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v.

A little voice in the back of his mind kept telling Ghost to break down his walls. Let’s not worry about ranks, let’s not worry about consequences. Keep it a secret, make it some fun sneaking game just for the two of you.

To his disappointment, you kept your distance after that night. Not like he could blame you after he made it clear there could be nothing between you. While he stood next to Price in the briefing room, you looked at him every once in a while, your eyes showing the kind of sadness that made it hard for him to focus. He wished he could hug you, tell you he was sorry and he made a grave mistake by pushing you away.

Because as the days passed, he became more and more sure that he should give in to his needs. He wanted to be with you, but strictly outside of work. This way he could keep a little distance, he could sell himself the idea of breaking the rules.

Soap noticed that something had changed between the two of you, but he only dropped half a sentence before changing his mind. He knew better than to dig into his superior's private life. Whether he had asked you or not, Ghost didn't know. But for his own sanity, he assumed he did not.

The night before they could finally go home, he was scrolling your Instagram profile while lying on his bed, smiling to himself every time he saw a picture of you. It was rare, mostly found among the photos you were tagged in, but he was grateful for each and every one of them.

Suddenly he felt the mattress shift as someone sat down on its edge. He turned off the phone's screen and put it down next to his head to see who it was. When his eyes landed in you, he felt a wave of guilt passing through his body.

"Why are you torturing yourself?" you asked kindly as you reached out to place a hand on his chest.

His skin burned where you touched him, making it really hard to resist the urge to put his hands on top of yours. "What are you talking about?"

You let out a sigh at this. "You liked those photos by accident, I guess. Ghost, you said we can't be together, yet you keep looking at my photos. I'm gonna ask you again. Why are you torturing yourself?"

As he propped on his elbows, Ghost thought about the answer. "I don't want to be away from you," he admitted so honestly that he surprised himself. Well, based on the look on your face, there was no turning back now. "I know I said we can't be together, but I can't stop thinking about you, no matter how hard I try. Why are you like this, huh? Why are you so irresistible?" he asked, his question nothing more but a barely audible whisper.

With a smile, you leaned closer and slowly moved your hand up to his neck, your fingers brushing the hem of his balaclava. "Meet me after the mission," you told him quietly, your voice carrying the sort of authority that made it impossible to say no to you.

Ghost knew he was at your mercy, there was no way he could say no to that. He wasn't strong enough. So he took your hand in his and moved closer to give you a kiss through the fabric of his mask, savoring the feeling just in case this was the first and last time he could do it.

"Come on, I know you want to meet me," you tried kindly, your eyes locked with his as you waited for his response.

"Fuck, love, how could I say no to that?" the lieutenant breathed against your lips.

And he sent you a DM to discuss the details, making sure to keep the conversation online so the others wouldn't know about it. He didn't want conflict. He didn't want tension. The tension between the two of you was more than enough on his plate.

Three days later he was standing in front of your door, this time without his usual mask, his hand raised to knock. But he hesitated, he wasn't so sure anymore about this date. No, he could do it. He shouldn't be that–

"So you're just gonna stand here without letting me know you're here?" he heard your voice all of a sudden.

When he looked up, he noticed you standing in the now open door, your arm resting against the doorframe. You looked so happy and relaxed, the total opposite of what he usually saw during missions. With your trendy clothes and light makeup, he felt like kissing you on those cherry red lips.

"God, why are you like this?" he asked from no one in particular before acting on his instincts and pulling you into a kiss.

You giggled against his lips as you pulled him inside by the front of his shirt. "And you're really handsome. Have you been told that?" you inquired with a wide grin when he kicked in the door and pushed your back against it.

He gently bit on your lower lip, happy to hear a satisfied moan escape you. "We're not gonna leave for dinner, are we?"

You shook your head in response, letting him know that he was free to do whatever he wanted. And Ghost didn't need you to repeat yourself, he took the lead without hesitation, his hands moving to remove your clothes with precise and calculated moves.

Ghost's hands roamed your body as if he was trying to memorize every inch and every curve, turning it into a core memory along with everything you were about to do tonight. Because he was sure this would be a night to remember, he could feel that what you had there was truly magical.

"I want to taste you," he mumbled against your neck, enjoying the way you pushed your body against his upon hearing his request.

You gave him the directions to your bedroom, moving in perfect sync with him until the point he picked you up and gently laid you down. Ghost kneeled down next to the bed then wrapped his muscular arms around your thighs to pull you closer to his mouth.

"Prop on your elbows, sweetheart, I want to see your beautiful eyes," he ordered you sternly, making you do as he said while his tongue ran along your already wet cunt. "Look at you. I barely did anything and you're already having trouble focusing on me."

While Ghost laughed at this, you couldn't mirror his reaction. Your thoughts were somewhere else, somewhere much higher, but he didn't mind as long as your eyes were on him. He gently sucked on your clit, the mewl leaving your swollen lips sounding like music to his ears.

It wasn't a race, but he wanted to win, and winning meant drawing an orgasm out of you as fast as he could. He wanted to see how badly you wanted him, how your body reacted to his touch, and so when you tried pressing your thighs together only from feeling his tongue exploring your pussy, he pushed them wider apart, not giving you the chance to stop him.

Your eyes were hazy when he looked into them again, which drew a satisfied smirk on his shiny lips. He let go of one of your thighs and gently dipped a finger into your needy hole, slowly pumping as he returned to your puffy clit, sucking on it as if he was having his last dinner in this world.

You threw your head back in pleasure when he pushed another finger inside you, whispering his name over and over again, begging him to keep going, to make you come. "Simon, please, I can't," you whined between your moans, your hands twisting the sheets.

Ghost let out a deep growl as he put his other hand on your stomach to keep you in place. "Come on, love, come for me," he said, his eyes fixed on you, looking for the eye contact that could hopefully push you over the edge.

And the moment you looked into his amber eyes, your body began to shake, meaningless words leaving those perfect lips like a prayer as you finally reached your first high. He lapped up every drop of your flowing juices, just like he was a man starved, and he couldn't stop smiling while he watched your body slowly relax again.

He licked his fingers clean before pressing one more kiss on your cunt and getting rid of his own clothes. He signaled you to move on the bed, and you crawled up to the headboard, your hand reached out to invite him closer, legs wider apart to give him enough space. He gave you a sloppy kiss, simply loving the way his cock teased your entrance.

"Mind if I don't use a condom? I wanna feel you, baby," he asked between kisses.

You were probably still too lost in the sensation your orgasm left behind to think straight, so you agreed, and he was bad enough not to care about whether or not it was the right decision to make. He wanted it too badly to play nice this time. And if it came down to it, there was always a morning after pill to solve the problem.

So he pushed the tip in, teasing you just enough to earn your whispered pleas for more, begging him to finally fill your needy cunt. But for now he enjoyed this little game of his, only giving you the tip before pulling out, slowly turning you into a desperate mess.

"Si, please," you begged again as you reached up to grab his bicep.

"You want me to fuck you this badly?" he asked with a smirk, then leaned down to give you a soft kiss.

You returned it, hungrily devouring him while moving your hips in a futile attempt to get him to finally make a move. Ghost thought for a second, wondering if he should stop being cruel and just give you what you wanted so badly. Seeing the look in your beautiful eyes, he let out a sigh and decided not to tease you any longer.

At first he went slow, pushing his cock into your cunt slowly, giving you the time to get used to his size. Your tight pussy felt like heaven, and he didn't think he could last long if you didn't relax soon. "Love, try to relax," he told you quietly, pushing a strand of hair out of your face.

"It's hard to relax when you're filling me up so well," you whined before pulling his head down into another kiss.

He began to move his hips in a steady rhythm, feeling ecstatic from hearing your sweet mewls and moans, feeling you press your body close to his as you arched your back from pleasure. He felt your cunt clench around his cock, keeping him deep between your velvety walls, and sending him closer to the edge.

He sped up, going a little harder maybe, but not hard enough to hurt you. He paid attention to your reactions, making sure you enjoyed every second of your time together. When your breathing and the noises you made changed, he knew it wouldn't take much for you to have your next orgasm.

So he reached down to rub your clit with his thumb, earning a pathetic whine from you in return, but he didn't stop, it only made him more determined to give you what you deserved. "Come on, baby, I know you're close," he told you before kissing your neck.

And soon enough you finally came around his cock, causing him to reach his high as well not long after that, but he was still focused, he still wanted to fuck you through it. You were overstimulated, completely lost in the sensation, and he simply couldn't get enough of this sight.

He raised his body to kneel between your legs after he pulled out, pushing his leaking cum back into your cunt as he proudly smiled to himself. There you were, a broken mess despite him not even going that hard on you. This was intimate and caring sex, not the rough stress relief he usually experienced with other women.

You were special, the light in his dark life, and the more he thought about it, the more sure he became that he didn't want to let you go. He crawled back next to you, pulling you against his chest before placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

"Mind if I stick around for a few more days? I could use more of your perfect little pussy," he suggested cheekily.

You let out a quiet chuckle before giving him a soft kiss. "I wanted to ask you to stay, so we were thinking the same thing."

Ghost wasn't used to this, but he loved this feeling. He loved how calm and happy he was around you, how easily you could make him forget about his crappy life.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #mw2 #modern warfare #call of duty #smut

[sebscore]

Hey I saw your reply about the leclerc fics, could I request an imagine of say 16yr old sister reader getting her wisdom teeth out, and charles picking her up, getting her to stay in the car, etc? Sounds so random but I feel like it would be the funniest and cutest thing. If you could add an instagram story au of a photo that charles had taken of the loopy reader that would be amazing haha, thanks!

THANKS FOR NOT KILLING ME | CHARLES LECLERC

pairings: charles leclerc x sister!reader / arthur leclerc x sister!reader / lorenzo leclerc x sister!reader

warnings: mention of surgery. dentist. anesthesia. food. mood swings.

author's note: thank you for the request, I had fun writing this one! sorry if the ending seems rushed, I just didn't know how to properly end it. hope you enjoy it and let me know what you thought of it!

• • • • • • •

''Can you pull over? I have to pee.'' Y/N asked Charles, who was focused on the road.

Her older brother glanced at her through his rearview mirror, already done with the entire drive. ''No, you're gonna have to wait.''

Their mother had asked the second oldest Leclerc sibling to accompany her and his younger sister to the dentist, to get the youngest's wisdom teeth removed. Pascale already guessed that she was going to need some help with the teenage girl once her surgery was done.

He hadn't been too ecstatic, just wanting to hang out with his friends or play some video games. However, his mother had been very adamant on him joining and he found it hard to say no to her. Meanwhile, Arthur had volunteered to tag along, not wanting to miss his sister's reaction to the anesthesia as he had seen countless funny wisdom teeth removal videos online. The eldest brother, Lorenzo, had other businesses to attend to, but promised he would help take care of the girl once he was home.

''Honey, I told you to go slow on the pineapple juice.'' Her mother kindly scolded her, recalling her daughter's determination to only consume the drink as she had heard from friends that it would lessen the pain.

Y/N sighed, uncomfortably shifting in her seat. ''I'm hungry and thirsty, Maman!'' She complained, not having eaten anything in the last 8 hours.

''We'll get something afterwards, chérie,'' her mother assured her, ''how about ice-cream?'' Pascale turned around, looking at her daughter. ''Sounds good, thanks.''

''We're here.'' Charles pulled up to the parking and safely parked their car in the right spot.

Arthur snickered. ''Ooh~ I can't wait for you to get back.'' He teased her, rubbing his hands together.

''Shut up, you idiot!'' Y/N slapped his arm, resulting in a loud yelp from her older brother.

''Auw! You little shit!'' Arthur tried to hit her back, but his arm was pushed away by his mother. ''Stop it!''

''Maman!'' Arthur exclaimed, appalled. ''She started it!''

''You provoked her, Arthur.'' Pascale opened the car door and got out, adjusting her clothing.

Charles turned in his seat, looking at his sister. ''Y/N, good luck and we'll see you in an hour.'' Since the youngest sibling was still a minor, a guardian had to be present during the extent of her surgery, and with covid regulations still intact, the brothers couldn't wait for their sister inside the building. So, Charles and Arthur would fill up their free time until their mother had notified them when the surgery was done.

''It's not scary, right?'' She asked them, not making eye-contact with her brothers.

The two men glanced at each other, amused by the sudden behavior change. ''It's gonna be okay, you're not gonna feel a thing when they're removing the teeth.'' Charles comforted her.

Arthur opted to tease her, but seeing her obvious anxious expression, he didn't and followed his brother. ''Yeah, you have nothing to be scared about.''

Pascale had made her way around the car and opened her daughter's side of the door. ''Come on, we don't want to be late.'' Y/N nervously smiled at her two brothers, before getting out of the car.

''It's gonna be okay, you're brave!''

''Don't worry about it, munchkin.''

Their words of encouragement send a smile to their mother's face, touched by how her sons comforted their baby sister. Pascale put her arm around her daughter's shoulders and guided her into the dentist's office.

Her brothers watched them going in. ''She's gonna be fine, right?'' Arthur asked Charles, not entirely sure.

''Of course, you know how she doesn't like to embarrass herself in public.''

''I'm dying!'' Y/N cried out to her mother, once she had regained consciousness.

Pascale shook her head, already knowing it was going to be a difficult task. ''You're not, my love.'' She took out her phone and sent a quick text to Charles, informing him she had woken up and that she would need their help to get her into the car.

''Maman! I can't see anything, I've gone blind!'' Upon hearing her daughter's words, she looked at her. ''Chérie, that's because your eyes are closed.'' Pascale, along with the dentist and his assistant, had a hard time not to burst out laughing at the sight of the young girl.

''Oh.''

With some help from the assistant, Pascale got her daughter out of the chair. They each held one of Y/N's arms over their shoulders until they made it to the front entrance of the building, where Charles and Arthur were waiting for them. As soon as the two Leclerc's noticed their mom and sister, they took over.

''See? We told you that you would be fine.'' Charles immediately reassured her, his sister mindlessly staring at nothing.

Y/N whined in return. ''I'm not fine, I'm dying!'' She loudly exclaimed, her mother trying to shush her straight away.

''And I'm dying to get out of here, let's go!'' Arthur commented and made a move to start walking back to the car.

Pascale thanked the assistant for the successful surgery, just loud enough for Y/N to hear.

''Thank you for not killing me, Doc!'' She yelled out, causing some heads to turn at the noise.

''That's my job, thank you, Y/N.'' The assistant took it all in good fun and smiled at the young girl, her whole day made because of the interaction.

Eventually, the brothers got her in the car. Arthur put her seatbelt on, but stopped midway once he saw her looking wide-eyed at him. ''What is it?''

''Since when did you get here?'' She asked him, confusion written all over her face.

He simply chuckled and made sure her seatbelt was put on safely. ''Me and Charles were waiting for you to be done.''

''Charles is here?'' Y/N reacted astounded, gasping when Arthur pointed at the man in the driver's seat. The Ferrari driver had a huge smile on his face, endeared by his little sister. ''I'm here, Y/N.''

The teenager mirrored his smile until she noticed something. ''Wait, he's driving the car?'' She looked at her mom, who nodded.

''No~ he can't drive!'' Y/N whined, trying to take her seatbelt off.

Arthur stopped her right away. ''No, no, no! You have to keep that on, it's for your safety.'' He held his sister's arms to prevent her from doing anything further.

''Why can't Charles drive, honey?''

''Because he's stupid.'' She made a reference to the infamous Baku qualifying when he planted himself into the barriers.

Their mom and Arthur cackled at the comment, while Charles just accepted it. He drove out of the parking lot and the family was on their way back home.

''Where's Enzo?'' Y/N asked them, noticing the eldest brother wasn't in the car.

''He's at work, he'll be at home soon.'' Pascale answered, staying as positive as she possibly could.

Arthur pulled his phone out, grinning ear to ear. ''You wanna FaceTime him?'' He searched for his brother's contact and handed the phone to her. Y/N took the phone and pressed the FaceTime button, excited to speak with her brother.

However, he didn't answer and his little sister didn't like it one bit. ''Huh?'' She stared at her own reflection on the phone screen, a puzzled look on her face. ''Why isn't he answering?'' Her voice wavered, an indication she was going to cry.

''No, chérie, he's probably just busy.'' Pascale immediately tried to comfort her, not wanting to deal with that at that moment, but her daughter wouldn't hear it. ''He hates me, he doesn't want to talk to me.'' She continued whining, wiping non-existent tears away.

''Y/N, he doesn't hate you, he loves you! More than anyone else.'' Charles helped his mom, being reminded of when his sister was a toddler and she would whine the exact same way.

She fell more quiet at his words. ''Charles, do you love me?'' The whining had died down and the question came out more genuine.

''Of course I do! You're my baby sister, you're my favorite person!'' Charles wasn't lying when calling her his favorite person. The two had a very close bond and she always brightened his gray days. If she wasn't busy with school, she was always there for him during the Grand Prix's. Maybe he had to tell her more that he appreciated her always being there for him, he didn't say it enough.

She smiled at his answer, but wasn't satisfied yet. ''Do you love me more than Arthur?''

Charles simply laughed at the question while Arthur expectantly looked at his older brother, also curious about the answer.

"What's that kind of a question? I love you both equally." He put an emphasis on the last word, glimpsing at both of them through the rearview mirror.

Arthur's attention went back to the phone, but the youngest still wasn't content. "Why? I'm so much better than Arthur and I'm also prettier than him." Y/N summed up the reasons why Charles should love her more, almost in a childish manner.

"You're lucky you just got out of surgery, Y/N" The youngest Leclerc brother semi-threatened the girl.

"You know, I would stick my tongue out at you, but I can't feel anything." She shot back at him, gathering some laughs from Charles and their mother.

It didn't take long for them to arrive back home. However, it did take a long time for them to get Y/N in the house. Arthur joked about the ground being lava and she refused to get out of the car.

''I'm gonna go to the grocery store and get Y/N her ice cream. Charles, you're in charge of your sister!'' Pascale didn't waste anymore words and was out of the door before her second oldest child could even respond.

Charles sighed loudly, but still made his way to the living room and sat next to his sister, who didn't seem to have a thought behind her eyes. ''You kinda look like Carlos right now, Y/N.'' He laughed, her stare reminding him of his teammate.

''I look hot?'' She asked him, her voice a little higher than usual.

He made a disgusted face, that wasn't what he meant. ''No, you just-''

''So you think I'm ugly? My face feels all swollen.'' Her emotions were all over the place. A few seconds before she was all excited about being compared to Carlos and now she looked like she could burst out in tears.

Charles slightly panicked. ''No, no! You're pretty, Y/N! You're beautiful!'' He put his arms around her, feeling bad for making her cry.

She slowly blinked her eyes at him. ''Really? Oh, Charlie! That's so nice! You're pretty too!'' The tears in her eyes were gone and a bright smile had returned to her face.

Her older brother giggled, entertained by his sister's actions. He flinched when the front door suddenly closed very loudly. He glanced behind him to see Lorenzo entering the living room.

''Hey, how did it go?'' He asked them, appearing in front of them.

Charles answered for her. ''Good, no complications at all.''

''Unlike Ferrari…'' Y/N mumbled, a smirk present.

Lorenzo chuckled at her words. ''Ah, see! The anesthesia didn't do anything to her, she's still the same.'' He sat down on Y/N's other side, so she was sat in-between them.

''Enzo! Oh my god! How did you get here?'' His sister looked at him wide-eyed, like she hadn't just seen him walk into the house.

He confusingly glanced at Charles, who continued to be amused by his sister. ''I took my car and I drove home from work.'' He answered, matter-of-factly.

''I missed you, but you didn't pick up when I called.'' She told him, Lorenzo's confusion grew even more by the sudden mood swing.

''You didn't call me.''

''She called from Arthur's phone.'' Charles clarified for him.

''Ah~ I thought it was Arthur, so I didn't pick up, but if I had known it was you, I would have definitely answered, Y/N.'' Lorenzo figured he had to be as optimistic as he could be, that way he couldn't upset his sister in any way.

Y/N blushed at his words. ''That's so sweet! I knew you liked me more than Arthur.''

The youngest Leclerc brother must have sensed he was being talked about as footsteps could be heard coming down from the stairs. The door opened and he gave the three of them a suspicious look. ''I heard my name.''

''You must have a very good hearing.'' Lorenzo teased.

''Whatever,'' Arthur brushed it off, ''I'm going, can you tell mom when she gets back?'' He didn't look at his siblings, focused on getting his shoes and jacket on.

''Where are you going?''

''Friends.''

Charles and Lorenzo were satisfied with the answer, not particularly interested in who these friends were. However, their sister was a curious cat. ''Are you gonna see Mick?''

Arthur looked at her for the first time since he came downstairs, frowning. ''Mick? Who? Mick Schumacher?'' He asked her, to which Y/N nodded with an innocent smile on her face.

''No, why? Do you like him?'' The three brothers focused on their sister and how her face became more red. ''I think someone has a crush.''

''Mick's too old for you, Y/N.'' Arthur concluded, grabbing his car keys. He bid them goodbye and was off to meet his friends.

Y/N watched him leave, an offended expression on her face. ''He's not too old for me.''

''He's like 7 years older than you, that's too much. There are plenty people of your age who would love to date you.'' Charles said, not even wanting to think about his sister dating any of the other drivers on the grid.

Lorenzo agreed with his younger brother. ''Yes, by the way, you are way too young to have a boyfriend,'' he told her more sternly, ''or girlfriend.'' He doesn't discriminate.

''And if you're gonna date someone, don't date people who do motorsport.'' Charles added.

''So, no Mick?''

Both brothers shook their heads at her question, amused by her disappointment.

''How about Sebastian? He's retiring.''

"..."

''I'm not even gonna answer that one, I don't want that image in my head.''

''What's it with you and older guys?''

charles_leclerc added to his story !

#f1 fics #charles leclerc x oc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x sister!reader #f1 fic

[perlelune]

Tag, You’re It | Ethan Landry | v.

Happy, carefree college days meet their abrupt end when every guy who approaches you mysteriously turns up dead.

Warnings: NON-CON, Stalking, Bimbo!Reader, Clueless Reader, Loss of Virginity, Incel Ethan, Cheerleader Reader, Skin Carving (w/knife), Canon Typical Slashing, Voyeurism, Kidnapping, Forced Masturbation, Filming, Blackmail

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

Peering outside the window, you unleash a melancholy sigh. The sky is bright and blue above campus, not one cloud darkening its expanse. 

A stark contrast to your somber mood. 

You wish you could soak up the warmth of the sun spilling through the glass window of the café, but you’re too high-strung to bask in the sunny weather. 

"Here you go," Ethan enthuses, yanking you away from your lugubrious train of thought. 

You give him a wobbly smile, accepting the steamy cup he slides between your hands. In the process, your fingers brush against his own, and Ethan’s throat bobs. His gaze lingers where your hand touches his for a few seconds before he scratches the back of his neck and sits in front of you.  The spicy, warm scent of the drink engulfs your senses in a blanket of comfort and familiarity. Your lashes flutter in awe as your eyes round.

"H-How did you know my coffee order?" 

He shrugs, a lopsided smile canting his lips. 

"I think Mindy mentioned it." 

"Did she?" 

His smile broadens. "I think. How else would I know it?" 

You press your lips together. You suppose it does make sense. Still, it astonishes you the heap of little things Ethan has noticed about you since you met him. 

Acceptance settles within you beneath his unflinching gaze. 

"You're right." You nod then spot the little plate Ethan placed near the edge of the table. Your mouth waters at the sight, your stomach wrenching. When’s the last time you had a proper meal, or something sweet? "Oh, you got me a pastry too." Fingers stretch towards the appetizing treat but retreat as Alana’s voice rings in your head. Sending Ethan a contrite glance, you twist your hands in your lap. "I'm sorry. That's very nice but… I can't accept it."

Ethan’s bushy brows draw together. 

"You don't like sweets? I didn't realize." 

You wave your hands before you as you rush to elaborate, "I do. It's not that." A deep exhale drops from your mouth. "Alana…the captain of my team. She said we all needed to lose five pounds before the next game. So no one on the team is allowed to have carbs."

Your cheeks come aflame under his intense stare. The anger in his tone startles you. 

"That's mean. Who does Alana think she is?" he scoffs. His tone softens as he adds, "Besides, you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen. You don't need to change a single thing about yourself."

A spontaneous smile blooms on your face at his compliment and the sincerity laced in his words. 

"Thanks, Ethan. That's so sweet." His chestnut gaze beckons you, drifting from your face to the pastry. You nibble your bottom lip, stomach clenching. Alana would be pissed if she knew…but you’re also starving. You don’t ponder for long before reaching across the table for the sweet delicacy. "I guess I'll have it anyway. Just promise me you won't tell her."

"My lips are sealed."

Ethan patiently watches you take a few bites, a grin etched on his boyish features. As soon as the sugar melts on your tongue, your spirits are lifted. 

When you’re done eating, he pulls out books, paper and pens from his backpack. 

You remember why you’re here and straighten your back. 

"So, where do you want to begin?" he inquires, unscrewing the cap from his ballpen and beginning to scribble on a piece of paper. 

You fidget and cast your eyes downward. 

"I'm not sure," you mumble. 

"What do you struggle with most?" 

Embarrassment tickles your insides. 

"Uh…Everything?" He gawks at you and your face heats. "This class is way too hard for me, Ethan."

He shakes his head, that gentle, encouraging smile never leaving his lips. 

"You're selling yourself short." At your crestfallen expression, Ethan offers, "We'll start at the very beginning and work our way from here. How does that sound?" 

You gape at him, your chest swelling with hope. For some reason, you nearly expected him to give up on you right here and there. 

You know you’re not exceedingly bright and that you narrowly got into college. If it weren’t for Chad and Mindy helping you study for the SATs and giving you tips…you’re convinced you wouldn’t have made it at all. 

"Amazing," you chime, plucking a chest-deep chuckle from him. 

Hours fly by at the café as Ethan takes time to break down concepts, make you flash cards and draw figures to help you understand the basics of economics. 

You lose track of time, hanging to his every slow, patient word. Every time you ask a question, he never gets upset or belittles you, instead going over everything again without ever losing his cool. 

While some areas are still fuzzy at the end, you feel a lot more equipped to understand the course material than before. 

Ethan encourages you, promising the more sessions you’ll have together, the more things will make sense. 

And you actually believe him. 

"You're like the best tutor ever." 

You bounce in excitement as Ethan giggles.

"I didn't do much."

"Not true. You make complicated stuff sound easy, Ethan."

His cheeks glow pink at your praise. 

Leaning forward, you confess, "Even Mindy gave up on helping me with my assignments. She didn’t have the time…or patience. And she’s my best friend." Slanting your head sideways, you beam at him. "You're the smartest guy I know so I appreciate you taking the time."

Ethan ogles at you before clearing his throat and scratching the back of his neck. "Anytime," he says while putting his books back in his bag.

"Can I keep this?" you inquire, gathering the stack of papers covered in Ethan’s neat handwriting. You’re touched that he took the time to explain all this to you. 

"Of course, it’s all for you. If you need anything, just text or call me." His inflection lowers as he bashfully looks down. "Even nighttime is fine."

His words summon flashes of the night before. Overwhelmed, tears begin pricking behind your eyes. 

"Nighttime…" you quaver. You blink and salty water fills your gaze. Ethan immediately gets up and joins you on the other side of the table, handing you tissues and carefully putting a hand on your shoulder. Once again, you wipe your tears. You wonder how there’s still water left in your body considering how many times you’ve bawled your eyes out today. 

"I’m sorry," you blubber.

"It’s okay." He rubs your back, licking his lips before he whispers, "You don’t need to shed so many tears over him, you know?"

A shuddering breath cascades through your throat while you gape at him in confusion. 

"What?"

His jaw clenches, his gaze darkening somehow. 

"That alpha douchebro Connor. He doesn’t deserve you crying over him."

"It’s not…" you trail off, shame creeping inside you. You have no desire to revisit the events from last night. Every time you recall them, a wave of sickness takes hold of you. 

Ethan continues, his voice even harsher than before, "Truth be told I bet he had it coming." Your jaw drops. Ethan’s shoulders heave and slump as he explains, "I heard he was awful to girls… and that you weren’t the only one he was texting before he died."

Shock ripples through you at this newfound knowledge. It’s dumb and irrelevant now, but you thought Connor genuinely liked you at least. 

Sure, he got carried away that night and got a little pushy, but you’re sure he just had one drink too many and wasn’t acting like himself. 

Your forehead wrinkles as you chide him, "That’s an awful thing to say. Regardless of what he did…no one deserves to die like that, Ethan."

Ethan sighs and lets out an awkward laugh. 

"You’re right. I shouldn’t have said anything. Murder’s like…fucked up, I guess."

"Y-Yes, it is," you reply, taken aback by his casual tone. 

Gaze still holding yours, he bends over you and adds, "But he was a lame dudebro, and you can do so much better. I hope you know that."

You sink in the depth of his warm, brown orbs, both flattered yet a little unsettled by his fervent statement. 

It’s something even Mindy told you before, that you only fall for douchebags that don’t deserve you, but you never felt that was true. 

Still, no one ever said that to you with such emphasis. 

"I…appreciate it," you reply, rubbing your puffy eyes as fresh tears threaten to spill.  

His large hand travels up and down your back. 

"Is there something else by any chance? I’m a pretty good listener."

Heat rushes to your cheeks. There’s no way you can tell him what occurred. The mere idea makes you want to die. 

Your mouth trembles as you dip your chin.

"No, there isn’t."

After a few minutes of silence, Ethan’s gentle voice sweeps over your temple. 

"Can I do anything to make you feel better?" 

Your eyes lift to his, deep brown pools filled with concern. 

You mull it over. There is one thing. A thing you sometimes do with your friends, but you’re a bit self-conscious about revealing it to him. 

"I…" You emit a thin, unsure laugh. "No, that's silly. You're gonna think I'm, like, so shallow."

His thumb settles between your shoulder blades, caressing softly. 

"I won't judge you, I promise. Just tell me."

"When I feel bad…" You squirm and evade his focus, gaze darting about the café as you mumble, "I like to go shopping and eat ice cream afterward."

Ethan snickers, but not in a mean way. Mirth lights up his features. 

"I don't think that's silly at all, especially if it helps you feel better." His face softens. "I can take you if you want."

"Really?" Surprise and happiness coalesce in your tone. You hate shopping alone. Your brows knit as a thought resurfaces. "But I promised Mindy and Anika we’ll meet up later..."

Ethan sends you a wide grin. 

"I’m sure they’ll understand."

Going on a shopping spree with Ethan is surprisingly fun. He doesn’t mind how many outfits you try, praising your choices every time. 

And if sometimes his eyes rest upon you a tad too long, that strange smirk playing on his lips, you let yourself ignore that. 

After all, a lot of the clothes you picked display quite a lot of skin. 

Boys always stare, you’re used to that. 

And it’s just Ethan looking. It’s not like he’s getting any ideas. 

When it comes time to pay for your purchases, he stops you before you can collect your wallet, placing a stack of bills on the counter instead. 

You give him an open-mouthed stare. 

"Ethan?! Are you crazy? That’s a lot of money. You don’t have to-"

He grabs the clothes from you and gestures at the cashier to put them in bags before you can even think of returning them. 

"No way I’m letting you pay. My treat, okay?"

"Ethan…"

His tone gets firmer, quieting your protests. 

"I insist."

Your body deflates as you’re stunned by the shift in him, particularly his staunch refusal to let you argue. 

"Okay," you concede. 

After leaving the store, with Ethan carrying your bags and refusing to let you lift a finger, you get on your tiptoes and plant a kiss on his cheek. 

Red spreads on his face as he peers down at you. 

"You’re so nice to me," you say cheerfully.

He just smiles at you in that lopsided, mysterious way he does. 

"Well, I'd say you more than earned it."

~

#ethan landry x reader #ethan landry #dark!ethan landry #ethan landry x bimbo!reader #scream vi fanfic #ethan landry x you #scream vi #scream #scream 6

[lgbtsana]

SORRY, WRONG NUMBER

— sim jaeyun one-shot

GENRE: strangers to friends to lovers, crack fic kinda, you fell first, he fell harder.

PERM TAG LIST: @run2seob

you and your best friend, huh yunjin, were talking about past relationships. but, you never told her you’ve never been in a relationship. so, you tell her you have 1 past relationship.

the day after you receive a call about a shim hyeri, someone who isn't you.

the chatter between you and yunjin filled the room, “so you’re telling me, that he messed up a pick-up line?” you cackled when she gave you the nod of confirmation. you’d never been hit on, but you sure as hell wanted to be a fly on a wall to see that in real time.

yunjin stared at you, a serious look on her face, “so, let’s talk about you now.”

you froze, realizing she meant talking about your past relationships. you felt yourself gulp, having never been in a relationship before, you couldn’t answer. so, you decided to make one up! what could possibly go wrong?

“so,” your taller friend stared at you in disbelief, “the last time you dated someone was 3 years ago? before you met me?”

you simply nodded, trying to make her believe you, you couldn't let yunjin know you have no dating experience.

when she gave a shrug, you felt your face light up. hopefully this won't come to bite you in the ass, right?

the night went on with drinking, laughter, and just a joyous time altogether. yunjin didn't drink much, but you definitely drank over your limit.

“yunjin, i need to head to the restroom” she gave you a nod of understanding and you wobbily made your way there.

you tripped over your own foot and stumbled into a black-haired man, who was definitely your type, but all you could manage to get out, distracted by this man’s beauty, was a mumble of “sorry...”

what you didn’t realize is that your friend saw this whole ordeal.

“are you okay?” the man asked, helping you up, “now that i met y- i mean, y-yes!” your face flushed, thinking to yourself on why you said that. but then you heard a snicker, knowing all-too-well who it was coming from, yunjin.

when you woke up the next day, you had the worst hangover you’d ever experienced. “why did she let me drink so much...” you whined and fell back onto your pillow.

your phone’s ringtone went off, and you were confused as to who was calling so early. “hello?” your exhaustion showed through the phone's speaker, “excuse me? is this shim hyeri?” a deep voice came from the other end, “who?”

the male laughed a bit, “hyeri, i know you like to play games, but seriously..” the words left you confused. “i think you have the wrong number...?”

“what?” the male's voice was in disbelief, almost sounding sad. “are you okay?” you ask out of concern, “yeah..” his voice cracks, “’m fine.”

you sigh, “listen, i don't know what happened between you and this hyeri, but you definitely don't sound fine.” you emphasize on the word “fine”.

the other end of the line goes silent, as if he hung up, but you know he didn't because the call would've ended. “i thought she was into me, and the feeling was mutual, but i guess she wasn't.”

ah, one-sided love. you smile sadly, “i guess, if you ever need to talk, you can call me?”

he snorts, “i don't even know your name?”

aware he heard you gasp, you quickly answer “it’s seo y/n,”

“ah, pretty..” you heard him try to whisper. “what about you?”

“sim jaeyun, you can also call me jake.” you smile, “alright then, jakey.”

“don’t call me that...” he whines and he receives laughter in response.

“eh.. too bad!~” you tease excitedly. “geez, we get along pretty well, don't you think?” he laughs, and you could sense the smile on the other end of the line.

“yeah, i guess we do.” you smile a bit, “hey, y/n. i gotta go, talk soon?” he asks with a sense of hope.

“sure, i'll save you in my phone!” you shrug to yourself. its not like you’d fall in love over text, right?

as the weeks go by, you both get closer and facetime occasionally. you mostly text each other, which always ends in laughter from both ends.

jake had an idea of asking for you both to meet up, but never actually entertained the idea. he was hoping that fate would come in handy and make you both 'accidentally' bump into each other on the streets one day.

though, as close as you both were, he went radio silent in the following week. confused, you sent him messages almost every hour, considering you both talked a lot.

to get your mind off of jake, you went to a bar and decided to have a drink. as you started to take your first shot, you realized you actually had fallen for sim jaeyun.

sighing to yourself in realization, you took the shot. your love life was never as glamorous as you’d wanted, but it would take a fairytale to make it that way.. or some kind of string of luck.

“y/n?” you heard your name a few meters away from you, the voice sounding vaguely familiar. yet, you didn't care to see who it was, you felt miserable enough already.

“y/n,” the person patted your shoulder making you turn around. soon making your eyes widen, shocked to see jake looking you in the eyes. he also seemed shocked.

“h-how’d you know i was here?” he questioned you, “i should be asking the same thing!” you retorted.

“fate..” he mumbled, making your eyebrow raise. “what?”

pulling you in close, he tightly embraced you. a soft whisper brushes against your ear, “fate.”

“fate?” you whisper back to him as you feel him nod, “the wrong phone number, the random meet up? that’s all fate, my love.”

“my- my love...?” you comment on the sudden pet name, making him chuckle.

a sense of warmth sits on your lips, a soft and tender feeling, jake kissed you. bringing your hand up to gently caress his cheek, you returned the same feeling he gave you.

it was all in fate’s hands, all starting with a wrong number.

#✆. . . wrong number #fanfic #kpop #enhypen #sim jaeyun #sim jake #jake imagines #enhypen jaeyun #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fanfic #enhypen imagines #enha #enha x reader #jake x reader #sim jaeyun x reader

[tiddygame]

hello im sorry i wrote more for @myriadblvck ’s streamer au ghoap

I time travelled and around 4,000 words magically appeared in a document titled: "you didn't juju on the fucking beat soap" I think I was possessed by something. anyways here’s that:

tw: is it a panic attack? is it just typical ghost angst? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ just be careful it's mostly fluffy (ghost is mean to himself cause he almost kissed soap on the forehead)

also i just realized after i wrote this whole thing, this is based on my general knowledge of dog tags… as an american. writing about the british military. so if you know your shit about the british military, uhh sorry in advance. my bad. from a very brief search i think a lot of it’s the same or at least same enough but this might hurt for people that know a thing or two. whoops!

fun fact: did you know for a brief stint (iirc, >40 years from around 1960s to 2010ish) the american military was printing soldiers’ ss numbers on their tags? yeah can’t imagine why they switched back to serial numbers.

Ghost had been pacing outside of his office for three minutes before he actually entered. When he did, he didn’t say a word. Just sat down in one of the chairs, fidgeting. It wasn't that uncommon of an occurrence, he was normally either gathering his thoughts before talking to Price about something more personal or hiding from what/whoever he didn't feel like dealing with.

When it came to mission debriefs, he was clear and concise. However, personal matters were a different story, and based on the way he anxiously opened and closed his hand, he'd guess this was a personal matter.

Price didn’t ask. He knew that whatever it was Simon needed to say would come out eventually. For now, he continued filling out paperwork and trying to figure out what it was that had Ghost so worked up.

Honestly, there wasn't much guesswork involved. Chances were, it was probably yet another leave request. He knew from Gaz (who was such an awful gossip he sometimes wondered how the man made it through interrogation training) that Simon had been visiting some social media person he had taken a liking to.

(Look, yes, Price knew about Twitch and live streaming and everything. He’s not actually that old. However, as long as he kept up the front of the old man who complained about the keyboard on his phone being too small, he didn’t have to deal with social media. Sure, it caused all of them to joke that he was geriatric and on his last legs, but he was able to convince Roach that he doesn’t know what TikTok is, meaning he wasn’t in charge of reviewing all the bullshit he and Gaz posted. A fair trade if you ask him.)

He also knew that Gaz was convinced the two were in love to the point that he and Roach had a bet going to see when they would get together. Price thought it was rather stupid, but he had to admire their ability to keep it under wraps; if the lieutenant found out they’d been placing monetary bets on his love life, he had a feeling he would need to find replacements for the 141.

Regardless, Price hoped that one day Simon would tell him about the friend but, until then, he was happy to fill out any paperwork that would get the poor man off base. God knows that idiot needs a vacation.

Simon was bouncing his leg, messing with his fingers, and staring off into space.

Three of his nervous habits at once? He must be even more worked up about this than Price thought. But, he was a patient man. It was about seven minutes of companionable silence before Simon spoke.

“I need replacement dog tags. I seem to have lost mine.”

Price looked up. He could see the chain around his neck and the outline of them still under his shirt.

"You do?" Price shuffled his documents around, eventually finding a blank piece of paper he could write on.

"Yes sir."

“And do you know what happened to them?”

“I believe they were knocked off during the fight from the last mission. I didn’t notice until later that night when we were back at base.”

Price paused and looked up from where he had been writing.

The last mission had been an odd one. Ghost normally stuck further away, their eagle-eyed lieutenant typically stayed at long to mid-range, watching for hostiles and making sure whoever else was in the field wouldn’t get caught off guard by someone they hadn’t seen.

During the last mission, he decided to engage at close range, a far cry from his usual approach of sniping hostiles from the shadows.

At one point, their lieutenant had been tackled and almost strangled. The fight had pretty much ended, his attacker was the only one left there. Ghost, being The Ghost, dispatched him with ease, but it stuck out to Price. Ghost may prefer to stay further back, but that didn’t mean that his hand-to-hand combat skills were lacking by any means.

He remembered thinking at the time that it was a clumsy mistake, that Ghost would have had to be intentionally trying to fuck up to get knocked down. He assumed the man had just been caught off guard, but he knew that theory wouldn’t hold up to any scrutiny. Ghost isn’t one to get caught off guard.

What was stranger yet still was Ghost specifically pointing it out in his mission report, calling even more attention to it.

Price set his pen down and leaned back in his chair.

“You planned this?”

“I plead the fifth,” said the British man.

Price just continued to stare, curious to see if this was actually going where he thought it was going.

“Is this off the record?” Simon eventually asked.

“Of course,” almost everything the 141 did was of dubious legality. Not reporting a conversation about possible wasted assets was far from the worst thing that had been swept under the rug.

“Then yes.”

“Why?”

Simon didn’t answer. Price waited, giving the man time to gather his thoughts, but based on the way his mouth opened and closed before he slumped in his chair, it seemed he didn’t know what to say at all.

Price had an inkling he might know what this was about.

“You know, Gaz likes to keep me informed,” Ghost looked up at him, somewhat panicked yet resigned, like he already knew what Price was going to say.

“He tells me you have a certain someone you’ve been visiting?”

“Yes.”

“Is this person a friend or…?” Ghost once again paused, calculating the potential consequences of his available responses.

He didn’t answer.

“Hmm,” Price paused, wondering how far to push before he continued, “You want to give this person your old dog tags?”

“Yes.”

Of course he would pre-plan “losing” his dog tags. Price mentally chuckled, leave it to Simon to be such a sap that he wanted to give someone his dog tags yet still make sure to follow protocol so he never actually risked going without them.

He had to hand it to him, it wasn’t a bad plan.

Price had a smile now, knowing his grumpy hard-ass lieutenant had a sweetheart he wanted to be sappy with.

“Romantic or platonic?” Price tried again.

“… I don’t know,” he’d never seen Simon look quite so… forlorn.

Hmm… That would explain his hesitancy.

He was pushing how much Simon was willing to divulge.

“And does this person know the significance of you giving them your dog tags?”

Well, curiosity killed the cat…

“No, they don’t.”

…But satisfaction brought it back. How interesting, the plot thickens.

“Do you plan on telling them?”

There was a long pause, after which it dawned on Price, “You want to give them your dog tags because they don’t know.”

It wasn’t a question, he already knew. Simon somehow slumped further, attempting to hide his face as if he weren’t wearing a balaclava.

His grumpy hard-ass lieutenant. Absolutely smitten with someone yet too shy to say anything, deciding on a quiet confession, one they likely wouldn’t pick up on.

Price chuckled, jotting down the necessary information he would need when he got his hands on the right paperwork, polishing up some of the details of Ghost’s story to make it more believable, before reading off what he had written to Ghost to make sure he got everything right. Ghost nodded once, and that was that.

“Replacement tags will probably be here in two to three weeks.”

“I would like to request leave for two to three weeks from now.”

Price handed him the form, having already grabbed it. He noticed how the man seemed to calm at just the thought of getting to visit his mystery person.

Oh, he thought to himself.

I am definitely joining Roach and Gaz’s bet.

<><><><>

They were lying on the daybed in his streaming room, or, well…

No, that’s not quite right.

Simon was lying on the daybed.

Johnny was lying on top of Simon.

His computer was still softly playing quiet (non-DMCA) music from where his stream had just ended. Instead of turning it off, he had decided to unplug his headset and leave it on, the music just loud enough to be heard.

Simon was sleepily scrolling through his phone, trying to pretend like he hadn’t almost dropped several times while dozing off, desperately trying to stay awake. Johnny had watched his struggle and decided to lay down right on top of Simon, not even trying to pretend like he was trying to fit on the remaining space on the daybed. Why would he when Simon was right there?

It was meant to be a joke, having thrown himself on top of him to annoy the man into sleeping on an actual bed (he claimed he wasn’t tired but the comically loose grip on his phone and the waking world said otherwise.) However, unfortunately for said sleepy man, Simon was very, very comfortable.

His head was resting on Simon’s chest, arms under his back like he actually was just a pillow, one hand reaching higher to feel where Simon’s hair had begun to grow out slightly.

I wonder if he would let me help him cut it…

Simon had said he was like a clingy cat, his free hand running through his hair in the same manner one would pet a cat to prove his point. The joke's on him though, he likes it.

Simon had tried to stop but Johnny didn’t let him, threatening to tickle him if he did.

(“I’m not ticklish, I just don’t want you throwing a tantrum.”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever you say,” he was definitely ticklish, and one of these days he was going to prove it.)

At some point, Simon had given up on keeping a grip on his phone, letting it drop to the side. They would probably have to go digging through the cushions to get it out of whatever crevice it had fallen to. As of right now, the idea of ever leaving his spot was comical at best.

The sun had begun to set, orange and pink tinted light filtering through the sheer curtains, making everything look more like a dream. Or maybe it was just the proximity to the man below him that was making him feel so serene.

Johnny took a second to inhale and exhale slowly, appreciating the moment. He hoped that this memory, this beautiful tranquility with Simon, would be something he cherished for a long time to come.

He knew that they had things to do. Soon, Simon would be catching a flight at some ungodly hour, headed back to save the world yet again. But for now, he was happy to nap away in their own little bubble. He never was a religious man but here in the arms of Simon Riley, he was tempted to think heaven was real, and that it was right in front of him.

“I almost forgot,” Simon mumbled, not sounding any more awake than he looked, reaching up for the collar of his shirt. Thankfully, the hand that was running his hair remained. He didn’t like proving the cocky bastard right, but he probably would have thrown a tantrum had he tried to remove it.

“They had some fuck up along the line or something and accidentally printed me an extra set of dog tags. I was just gonna toss ‘em but thought you might want—”

Johnny was now wide awake, sitting up and yanking the chain out of his hands.

“Don’t you fucking dare throw them away, of course I want them!” Simon’s face reddened, a frequent treat for Johnny now that he had gotten more comfortable going without the mask. Simon might have been good at keeping a poker face, but without his mask, he was a blushing mess.

He wondered if the blush was from his obvious jubilation at the gift or if it was because he was now straddling the man. Such pesky details, however, (even ones that would keep future Johnny awake at night) were far less important than examining the necklace in his hands.

It was obvious this was the older set, the metal worn and dented in some spots though the writing was still clearly visible.

“Calm down, I’m not going to take it from you,” the gruff tone was severely undermined by the aforementioned blush. It was hard to sound tough while half asleep on a daybed and being used as another man’s pillow.

Johnny stared at them for a little bit longer, feeling every dent and wondering the story behind how they got there, before putting them on.

He smiled at the man under him, “How do I look?”

He was going to joke, asking if he looked like a rough and tough soldier ready for war, but something in Simon’s eyes made him stop short.

He was looking with… with… Reverence was far too intense of a word for the softness of the moment but it was the only word that came to mind.

Simon reached up with his hand, grabbing the tags, his knuckles grazing his chest.

Well, that’s just fucking unfair.

Simon was supposed to be the blushy one. Not him, goddammit!

Though, he thinks when they make eye contact, they end up tied for who is blushing the most. They stare for a while, maybe it should have felt awkward but it was too adoring for either to feel any form of uncomfortability.

Neither moved.

It was Johnny that broke first, smiling at him, yet again tracing all of the scars he could see. It was his new favorite hobby, especially when Simon would blush making the scars on his face all the more visible.

He took one more second to sleepily appreciate the man before him, then went back to using him as a pillow. His hands went back to where they were before, one under Simon’s back and one playing with his hair. His head, however, did not fall back to his chest, instead resting in the crook of his neck and shoulder.

Simon’s hand returned to running through his hair, his other now coming up to rest on his back, rubbing up and down a few times before the sleepiness from earlier fully returned with his hand stopping somewhere around the small of his back.

Johnny leaned up slightly and gave a chaste kiss to the part of his neck that he could reach, then settled back to where he was. The hand in his hair paused.

“Thank you, Simon.”

A second of delay, and then the hand continued.

“You’re welcome, Johnny.”

Simon shuffled slightly, getting comfy before—

A kiss, on his forehead.

He couldn’t stop the blush and smile if he wanted to. He snuggled closer before drifting off to sleep.

When he woke, he was in his bed, practically tucked in. His window had been opened slightly, blackout curtains that had been drawn closed now swaying slightly with the breeze. When he focused, he realized he could smell petrichor and hear heavy rainfall outside with the occasional grumble of thunder.

There was a note on his nightstand. As he expected, it was Simon’s handwriting, apologizing for not waking him up before he left. It said that he had made breakfast for him (pancakes, with enough for when his sister would inevitably try to steal them), that he made sure to lock the front door, and left the window cracked.

He giggled sleepily at the last line. Regardless of the context, it always made Simon anxious to have the curtains open, much less to leave a window open. But, he also must've known how much Johnny loved the rain and set his worries aside, just this once, so he could wake up to the rain.

He set the note down and flopped back onto his pillows, his hand felt something cold and he remembered.

The dog tags.

John MacTavish is no stranger to crushes and heartbreaks.

He's had high school sweethearts, been in and out of love, he knows his way around the world of dating. Which is why he most certainly does not squeal and kick his legs while holding the tags like some kid with their first crush.

He did it like a grown man, thank you very much.

He grabbed his phone and sent Simon the worst pun he could think of; it was tradition at this point to send him some god-awful joke before his flight.

Simon has probably already forgotten about the whole exchange. He probably woke up and assumed he threw them away when he noticed he wasn't wearing them. It was probably stupid, an insignificant gesture with no meaning. But to Johnny, it felt like everything.

He sighed dreamily at the ceiling and felt the cool metal once more. Thunder roared outside. He thought about how he had felt in the man's arms. Thought about how much he wanted that again.

God.

His phone dinged and he immediately reached over to grab it.

I'm fucked, aren't I?

<><><><>

Elsewhere, Ghost was in an airport terminal, having far too much time to think.

Over the weekend, it was almost impressive how many times Ghost had talked himself into and back out of giving Soap his dog tags. He really hoped he hadn't made a mistake.

Simon felt the spot that Johnny had kissed and wondered if he remembered it. Wondered if he had meant it.

Simon thought about how Johnny had looked cradled in his arms when he carried him to his room, the way he had reached out for him when he laid him in bed. The way he had grabbed his wrist and clung to it, grumbling when Simon tried to pull it back.

If asked, he'd say that he had woken up late and that's why he was so far behind schedule. He'd keep the part where he sat there, kneeled in front of Johnny's bed, waiting for him to fall back into a deep enough sleep to pull his arm away all to himself. After all, it would have been rude to wake him up, no?

He had made sure to plug up his phone and, upon seeing the forecasted weather, hesitated before opening the window. It was only barely cracked, just enough for the sounds of the outside world to shamble in, but not so wide as to worry about water damage. He stared at it, convincing himself not to worry and that Johnny would like waking up to the fresh air.

He turned back to make sure the man was still asleep, still comfy, but stopped for a moment. He approached the bed and hesitated before running his fingers through his stupid haircut, almost wishing the man would grab his arm and give him an excuse to stay.

He didn't. Simon did, however, lean in to give him one last kiss on the forehead as some stupidly sappy goodbye, before his brain turned back on and he ripped himself away.

What the fuck is wrong with you? What? He grabs your arm in your sleep so you feel entitled to be able to kiss him?

Simon backed away, staring at the hand that had just been in his hair. He felt dirty.

For fuck’s sake, relax. It's not that big of a deal, you did it earlier; the man fell asleep in your arms, a forehead kiss isn't too much of a stretch.

He went to the kitchen and scrubbed his hands for a while, only stopping when he thought about how much water he was wasting. He still felt dirty.

Not a stretch? You don't get to decide that. How would you feel if someone tried to kiss you while you were unconscious? If they said that they felt they should be allowed to do so because you fell asleep?

He had started making pancakes. Something quick, easy, and reheatable for when Soap woke up. Like making him breakfast would make up for trying to kiss him in his sleep.

Why can't you just be normal?

Eventually, and after a run-in with Soap’s hell-spawn of a twin, he had to leave. The time on his phone showed that he should probably already be halfway to the airport by now but he has always been a selfish man.

He had snagged some paper and left Soap a quick note, hoping the apology would make him feel better about worse sins than not waking him up. It didn't.

He stared at the man for a second, admiring him, before he reminded himself that he was a fucking creep and left.

The storm left the flight delayed by 1.5 hours. Ghost had sat waiting, wireless headphones on and connected, but not playing anything. He had far too much time to think.

Simon thought about how Johnny had looked, his dog tags around his neck, silhouetted by the fading light, the sun behind his head as if even the stars knew they could never compare to him.

He stood and started pacing. Amongst the screaming children, feuding families, and people who think they're entitled to listen to their music without headphones, one middle-aged man having an existential crisis didn't stick out.

He thought about how he had never understood weighted blankets so well until Johnny had thrown himself on top of him. It should've hurt. He should've been annoyed. Instead, Simon selfishly hoped he would never get up.

It took him a while to put his finger on what he had been feeling exactly. Finally, he realized.

There, in that moment, he had never been so happy to be alive. It was a startling emotion to discern amongst the swath of negativity he normally felt. It startled him so much, he had snapped out of his reverie and stopped short in his pacing. When he checked the time, he saw he had one missed text from Johnny.

Soap (art streamer): i was trying to think of an airplane joke but none of them landed

Simon chuckled and sat down; he almost forgot about their dumb little tradition.

Ghost: Disliked.

Soap (art streamer): everyone is so mean 2 me 💔

Ghost: It is not my fault your pun was so Boeing.

Soap (art streamer): well i thought i could wing it

Ghost: Did you look up what giving do-

Ghost: About the tags, you

Ghost: I think you make me want to live

Ghost sighed and fell back further into his seat, coming to a conclusion that his subconscious had long ago discovered.

I'm in love, aren't I?

Soap (art streamer): speechless huh? finally, the Wright reaction to my comedic genius

Ghost: Absolutely awful, Mactavish.

Soap (art streamer): :D

Took you long enough, dumbass.

<><><><>

Soap’s twin spent a good bit of time staring at her brother's new accessory.

“Is something wrong?” he challenged, hoping she wasn't in a bothersome mood.

She failed miserably at hiding her shit-eating grin but didn't care.

“Nope!” she replied.

She had run into Ghost early that morning before he left.

"Detergent."

She was pretty sure he never even learned her name, just jumped straight into calling her detergent.

"Ghoul," she greeted, glaring at the man.

Being required by law to not trust him, she checked on her brother as he was still gathering his things and noticed the necklace.

“You gave him your dog tags,” she accused, like she was framing him for murder.

“Yes, I did,” he replied casually, as per usual robbing her of the fight she so desperately wanted to pick.

“Did you tell him what it means?”

“...What does it mean?”

Damn, he was good. If she wasn't convinced that he was the devil incarnate, she might have fallen for his feigned ignorance.

“100 bucks and you buy my silence.”

“I don't know what you mean.”

“200 then.”

“It doesn't even mean anything.”

“Hmm. Well, I suppose you might be right… JOHN!” their neighbors were probably going to complain.

“What the fuck are you doing?” ooh he was getting panicked now.

“If it doesn't matter then you won't mind me telling him to look it up,” she started walking to his room, “JOHNSON!”

“Fucking Christ, woman! Just— Fucking— Here.”

He pulled out his wallet and started counting bills. Damn, that was easier than she thought.

“What did you say? 100?”

“Nope! That was before inflation. Now it’s 300.”

“What the hell is wrong with you? You said 200!”

“So you admit you tried to scam me?”

“Just take the 100 and g-”

She didn't even get to yell, he reached for more before she could finish taking a deep breath in.

“Just shut the fuck up! Here! Three fucking hundred!”

She was tempted to raise her price further, but she was no gambler, she was a strategist. She knew a defeated man when she saw one. If she played this right, she could extort money out of him for a long time to come.

Something, something, vampires not fully killing their victims and all that.

She took the money, counted it, and then held out her hand to shake.

“It was a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Wraith!”

He didn't shake her hand.

“Christ, both of you are awful.”

He packed his stuff and left, broke, broken, and defeated.

She ate as many pancakes as she could, rich and victorious.

She thought about how much power, how much blackmail she had in this moment.

“I’m fantastic actually,” she walked to her room.

I am going to be so fucking rich by the time they get their shit together.

#ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #streamer au #streamer! soap #streamer!soap #streamer! au #ft. Old Man Price and Chronic Shit Stirrer Twin Sister (unnamed) #ghost never changes soaps contact name #my version of ghost in this au has convinced himself that he's nothing more than an incel/neckbeard #and that's why he is the way that he is #[I know my mess of 'family hcs' or whatever was derailed to shit but I still think ghost would call his twin detergent] #i’m scheduling this for when i’ll be asleep so goodnight i hope you all sleep well and drink plenty of water #my writing

[oddballwriter]

i have a request for Steven Grant x Witch!Reader. They live in the same floor and never saw each other, but her cat decides one day to go out the window and sneak into Steven's apartment, the poor man was terrified when he got home and found a cat trying to eat Gus...

After he returns the cat, the reader its so grateful that starts baking him cookies, giving him "special" teas so he can manage to sleep some nights. I don't have more ideas for this, but i wanted lots of fluff:(

xoxoxo

꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

Summary: Coming home to a random cat trying to eat his fish is something, for sure. And it turns out their owner is something too, but he actually kind of likes it.  

Warnings: One use of Y/N. Reader has a collection of little bones and other stuff. None that I actually know of. 

Author’s Snip: This request was nice but for some reason my brain just couldn't find the confidence and energy. If this sucks, anon, I'm sorry. And also this is not proof read.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

Coming home to a cat swashing it's paw around in Gus' tank it the last thing Steven wanted to come across after a rough day at the gift shop caused by both Donna and his lack of proper sleep the night before. But it did startle him out of his groggy state as he rushed over to the tank to keep the animal from making his fish its dinner.

After a moment of wrestling it into his arms and getting a few scratches from the feline, he managed to get them tucked safely under his arm. Now Steven had time to think, "How did you get in here, huh?" he asked looking towards the cat and around his flat.

He noticed that his window was open, most likely having left it open for the sake of fresh air and he just forgot to close it when he left for work. Steven defiantly didn't live on the ground floor so it wouldn't cross his mind that someone could come in through it, but he guesses that a wandering cat could get to it just fine.

"Alright, you little burglar. How about we find out how to get you home. Wherever that is." Steven said as he held the cat in front of him to look at them.

They were a black cat with yellow eyes that didn't look all too pleased with having been caught. They were actually very lovely looking with how sleek their fur looked and the vibrant yellow in their eyes. Steven noticed a collar that blended in with the darkness of their fur that had the standard little tag. The name Sabrina was carved into the metal on one side, the other said the name of the same apartment complex that they were in.

"Okay, Sabrina -lovely name for you by the say- finding your home should be easy since you live here." Steven said to the cat before thinking a bit longer, "Somewhere." he added.

Steven's first thought was that if Sabrina managed to get into his flat then her owner lived on the same floor since she could have walked along the rim of the building till she came across Steven's window. So he went door to door knocking on each of the tenants' door and asking "Is this your cat?".

It took quite a while and a few faces, with them all saying no.

It wasn't until he got to the door closest to the end of the fall on the other side that he finally got something. He knocked on your door and saw you on the other end. "I'm sorry to bother you, Ms. But by any chance is this your cat?" Steven asks as he holds up the fur ball.

Your eyes widen a bit before you speak. "That is my cat, yes. That I have been looking for for fifteen minutes." you confirm as you hold out your arms to take the cat from him. "I came home earlier and found her trying to catch my fish. She must've came through my window." Steven explains. You sigh, "I am so sorry about that. I have a little window open in my apartment that I thought she couldn't get through. Turns out she's an escape artist." you explain for your end.

"I used to let her roam around the block but she's been naughty recently and been brining back dead birds she caught." you say.

You catch a glance at Steven's hands and notice the scratches. "Oh no. Looks like she wasn't easy to catch either." you worry. "Here. Come in. Let me get you something as a thank you." you invite as you move deeper into your flat. "Oh. No no. It's nothing really. It wasn't too much trouble." Steven politely declined, not wanting to intrude on being in your space. "I insist. You look like you could need something." you remark. Steven, for whatever reason, took you up on your offer and came inside, closing the door behind him. That's when he actually managed to drink in the look of your home.

Steven always figured that the flats looked like each other and had the same layout with the differences in their looks being their owners and how they decorated. And you have made your flat really look like something. The whole place spelt of nice herbs and incense, not strong and over powering, but just enough that it still had that earthy smell that soothed. You have shelves and stands that had a plethora of things like crystals, books, candles, and trinkets, and the occasional jar of... something. One was full of little bones. There were even a few filled with various things like herbs, charms, and other things, all seals with wax. There were some plants strewn about, mostly vine-like or more herbs. On the walls were various tapestries that showed different thinks like whimsical symbols, runes, circles, and cosmic thinks like stars, the sun, the moon, and consolations along with dried flowers. Of course there was furniture, he took a seat on your couch in the living room which was full of things that also matched that look and feel of the place. A lot of patchwork and quilted designs with throw pillows and blankets.

He was busy taking in so much of your place that he hadn't noticed you moving about in your kitchen. It wasn't until you spoke up that he snapped out of it.

"I don't have any coffee so I hope you like tea." you say. "Tea's perfectly fine." Steven smiles. "Is there anything you like specifically?" you ask as you grab a kettle and some mugs. "Um... I could go for something citrusy. If that's not too much to ask." he sheepishly requests. You nod in understanding and get to making the tea. In the mean time Steven looks around from his spot a little more. He notices on the coffee table that theres some more candles and little pieces of decor.

"You have a lovely place." Steven compliments, earning a thank you from you. "How long have you lived here?" Steven asks. "A few years now." you answer as you walk over towards the living room and set down a few things like a container of sugar and a plate of treats.

"I'm surprised I've never seen you. I met a good bunch of the people on this floor." you comments. "Guess we just never crossed path until now." you shrug. "Bit unfortunate that it had to be through my cat almost eating your fish." you add. "I'm Y/N, by the way." you state with Steven telling you his name in return.

The rest of the evening was spent talking about each other. Like hobbies and work. Of course Steven just had to ask about all your things, which lead to a tea leaf and tarot reading. The tarot was something about him getting bored with his day to day life but that things will become eventful soon and his life will change. As for the tea leaves, according to you, signaled that he had a big journey ahead of him.

Somehow, his sleep issues came up, to which you got all excited and told him "I have just that thing." and rushed back into your kitchen. When you came bake you had a little bag full of tea and told him that it was a homemade tea that helps with sleep and to just make a cup or two in the case that he can't sleep. If it were anyone else, Steven would have, politely, refused a bag of mystery herb that was claimed to be tea, he also wouldn't have just gone into a strangers house, but you were nice and didn't seem to have any ill intent in your actions.

After that, you and Steven were somewhat close friends and had begun to see each other in passing more frequently. Maybe Steven's even thought of asking you out to lunch sometime.

#moon knight #moonknight #moon knight x reader #moonknight x reader #steven grant #steven grant x reader

[carmesi-butterfly]

thoughts on submissive gyuvin at 3:10 am

my first time writing smut, i feel like this turned out awful but i did my best ok 😔 because it's the first time i do it i don't know how to tag most of the stuff,, sorry

my random thoughts about submissive gyuvin. word count 591. warnings overstimulation, dumbification (?), sex without condom, finishing inside. no proofread.

"a-ah... i ca-ah! i can't believe you're doing this to me" were the only coherent words dropped from your boyfriend's mouth.

hours of overstimulation ended up with a destroyed gyuvin, his hair looking messy and his body all sticky covered by a mix of sweat, saliva, and sexual fluids of all the orgasms you took out of him, a few of them being yours too. poor gyuvin was being fucked so well by his partner that he couldn't even tangle two thoughts together to form a simple sentence, just babbling words as a way to express how fine it felt.

every bounce to his dick made him drop a moan as if it was an automatic setting in his body, please don't make fun of him, it's so hard to handle it :( your cunt sucking him for the who-knows-what time in the last few hours, milking him dry till the last drop.

"you think you can cum again, sweetie?" you asked, in such a sweet voice that made the boy think he could finish by only hearing you. the riding became more hectic, your pussy slamming into his dick harder, filling the room with the sloppy sound of your bodies roaming into each other, desperately looking for the so-desired orgasm.

"i can't, i c-can't" cried, his head moving from side to side, denying repeatedly. "it's too much..." his groans were accompanied by a strong grip on your hips trying to calm your peace, an act that was contradicted by his hips rocking with yours.

"you can puppy, just one more and we'll be done, you've been so good today" your words became more needy, one of your hands left his shoulder to caress his face and forced him to look at you, maintaining visual contact while reaching the last stage before ecstasy.

tears unleashed through his eyes, gyuvin's dick was so sensitive that it felt as if it burned him but at the same time the sensation came to be addictive, only you could make him feel like this, all submissive and dumb by fucking him senseless, how humiliating it was for him; being so big and ending up dominated by you. luckily for his sanity both your climaxes were around the corner, minds dizzy with pleasure and leaving all the work to your bodies, like animals fulfilling a primal desire.

between moans and muffled words, your boyfriend's orgasm came, filling your pussy up with his cum not before holding you strongly as an eager act to maintain you motionless, heavy breathing was the only thing resounding in a room where all kinds of vocal and corporal sounds could be heard just a moment ago.

"puppy, i didn't finish," you said, your faces being so near that your lips were almost touching. it hit gyuvin like a truck, dropping him out of the cloud that was taking over his mind and making him land in the real world, he knew what you meant by saying that. "i guess we will have to go for another round... if that's what you want, of course,” your lips brushed his, ghosting his attempt at kissing you.

he could be tired, overstimulated, sensitive and a lot more, but leaving you unsatisfied wasn't an option he was willing to take, mainly because of his pride, but secondly because despite ending up defeated by you and your immense sexual appetite he enjoys it, it would be a lie to say he didn't, you must be so happy! getting to ride your boyfie again while he whimpers <3

#kim gyuvin #zb1 gyuvin #zb1 #zerobaseone #zerobaseone gyuvin #gyuvin smut #gyuvin x reader #gyuvin fanfic #zb1 smut #zerobaseone smut #kim gyuvin smut #gyuvin scenarios #gyuvin imagines #zb1 scenarios #zb1 imagines

[evanesdust]

more than a maybe

written for- @sterekfests prompt: "Kiss me at midnight." @sterekweekly word: present @sterekbingo Christmas square: new years eve

Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale Additional Tags: POV Stiles Stilinski, Childhood Friends, Secret Crush, Gay Stiles Stilinski, Coming Out, Bisexual Derek Hale, Mutual Pining, Love Confessions, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, First Kiss, Getting Together

Summary:

…the one where Stiles thought his crush on Derek was unrequited. Spoiler: it wasn't.

"Have you seen Derek?" Cora asked, handing Stiles a glass of champagne. "There's only a few more minutes until midnight…"

Stiles rolled his eyes, ignoring her teasing grin as he took the glass.

"No, I haven't." Which was weird since they were usually attached at the hip, but Stiles was definitely going to look for him now.

Cora smirked and moved away to join the rest of the Hales gathered in the living room for the New Year's Eve celebration. Stiles had a sneaking suspicion that she knew about his crush on Derek. Hell, Derek probably knew, too, because sometimes Stiles caught Derek studying him—as if he were trying to guess what Stiles was thinking.

His scrutiny certainly never helped keep the blood from rushing to all the wrong places on Stiles's body, including his cheeks. That damned blush had been the bane of his existence ever since he realized that his feelings for Derek were far from platonic.

Because they were friends. Best friends.

And that was what made this whole situation a giant cliché. Stiles couldn't risk their friendship over an unrequited crush on his straight best friend, even if every fiber of his being was screaming at him just to tell Derek how he felt. It was safer to keep those feelings buried deep down, where they couldn't cause any damage.

Stiles figured Derek was probably hiding away from the noise and the crowd, staring at the stars. So he made his way through the party to where he was sure Derek would be, and sure enough, as he passed the large picture window facing the backyard, he spotted a familiar silhouette sitting on the deck, looking up at the night sky.

Derek.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Stiles stepped outside and quietly shut the door behind him. The crisp night air bit at his cheeks as he walked toward Derek, trying to think of something to say that didn't involve confessing his undying love.

"Hey. You okay?" Stiles asked as he drew closer, his footsteps echoing on the deck's wooden slats.

They'd practically grown up together, friends since elementary school, and Stiles could usually tell if Derek was broodier than normal. From the stiff way Derek was sitting, something was definitely bothering him. There was only a two-year age difference between them, even though Derek seemed more mature at times—like he was an old soul who'd seen it all and had the cynicism to prove it. But also like a protector since Derek always seemed to be looking out for Stiles, even when it wasn't necessary.

Derek glanced briefly over his shoulder. "Yeah, just"—he sighed—"got some things on my mind."

Stiles sank down beside him and dangled his feet over the edge of the deck, mimicking Derek's posture.

"Wanna talk about it?"

Derek sighed again. "I know about your crush on me."

It was said so suddenly that Stiles tensed beside him, barely breathing. Fuck. His heart hammered in his chest, and he couldn't look Derek in the eye. This was it; this was the moment that would change everything. Stiles had imagined a hundred different scenarios, but he never expected Derek to bring it up first.

"I…I…" Stiles cleared his throat. "I'm sorry…if that makes you uncomfortable, I mean."

That was the last thing Stiles ever wanted. Derek was his best friend, one of the most important people in his life. The fear of ruining that was paralyzing.

"It doesn't," Derek said, turning to face Stiles with an intensity in his gaze that Stiles had never seen directed at him before. "It's just...I didn't know how to bring it up. Or what to do about it. I've been trying to figure out my own feelings. And they're not as straightforward as I thought."

Stiles was sure his heart skipped a beat, or maybe it stopped altogether. "W-What do you mean?"

Because there was no way Derek meant—

"I'm…I think I'm bi." Derek's confession came out in a rush, his voice barely above a whisper, yet it seemed to resonate with the importance of a shout in the quiet of the night.

Stiles felt like his entire world had just shifted on its axis. "You think or you know?"

"I know. I know I'm bi," Derek answered with more conviction this time.

Stiles's mind was racing, his previous worries suddenly replaced by a burgeoning hope that was probably reckless to entertain. Just because Derek was bi didn't mean he had feelings for Stiles.

"Well, that's—you know you can talk to me about anything, right? Like if you have questions or…" God, Stiles had no idea what he was saying. He just wanted to be there for his friend. To support him, regardless of how this might turn out because that was what friends did for each other. So, instead, he blew out a breath. "So, how did you—"

"Know?" Derek finished. "It was you."

Stiles's eyes went wide, his head snapping back to look at Derek.

Me? he wanted to ask, but it was as if speaking were a foreign concept. His mind couldn't wrap around a single word to utter out loud. All of this time, he'd been so wrapped up in his own feelings and fears that it had never occurred to him that Derek might be grappling with concerns just as considerable, perhaps even more profound. That Derek could be struggling with the same revelation about his sexuality, in part because of him. That maybe, just maybe, his feelings weren't unrequited after all.

"If I'm being honest, I've had… I've had feelings for you for a while," Derek admitted, looking away from him. His throat bobbed as his confession hung between them, tangible and heavy in the cool night air. Stiles could hardly believe what he was hearing. It was as if Derek had just presented him with the key to a door he'd been certain was locked forever.

"You…you have? For me?" Stiles stammered, his voice a mix of disbelief and cautious optimism. Derek nodded, finally turning to meet Stiles's wide-eyed gaze.

"Yeah. For you, Stiles. I just didn't know how to say it, and I was scared it would mess up our friendship." Derek's voice cracked slightly with the vulnerability of his admission.

"But…" Stiles frowned, confusion mingling with the sudden burst of elation that was threatening to overwhelm him. "You just said that you knew I had a crush on you."

Derek let out a humorless chuckle. "I thought you might, but I wasn't sure. Not until now. And I was worried about how it would affect everything. Our friendship, the group dynamics, our families..." Silence hung in the air for a moment before he continued, "You mean too much to me to risk it all on a maybe. I love you, Stiles."

Was Stiles dreaming? The possibility of Derek returning his feelings was something he had never let himself hope for; it was too painful to even contemplate. But he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that when Derek said he loved him, it wasn't just as a friend. There was something deeper in his words, a resonance that couldn't be faked. Stiles's breath caught in his throat, and for a second, he couldn't find his voice. When he finally spoke, every word was laced with emotion.

"It's more than a maybe, Derek. It always has been," Stiles said earnestly, his voice thick with the weight of his own confession. With shaky fingers, he was brave enough to reach out and cup Derek's face. "I love you, too. I always have, and I always will."

Derek shivered and angled closer. Stiles's pulse blotted out the sounds of the nearby party and people counting down.

"Stiles," Derek breathed out, his breath hitching as their foreheads touched. "Kiss me."

So Stiles did.

Derek made a sound in the back of his throat—part groan, part sigh—as Stiles's heart galloped wildly. He was so afraid Derek would change his mind and pull away that Stiles reached out, tangling his hand in Derek's shirt and holding him steady. When Derek's tongue flicked against his, Stiles's entire body came alive, and he understood what this kissing thing was all about. It was breathy and heart-stopping and amazing.

They kissed for a long time, Derek's warm fingers gripping his neck and Stiles's twisted in his shirt, only breaking apart to catch their breath before going back for more. His lips were firm, his tongue was soft, and Stiles wanted to live in this moment and never come up for air.

But eventually, he did, panting softly against Derek's mouth, their foreheads still pressed together, eyes still closed.

Derek's hand, still on Stiles's neck, slid up into his hair, a gesture so tender that it made Stiles's heart swell even more. They stayed like that for a while, just breathing each other in, until the chill of the night reminded him they were still outdoors.

"Let's go inside before you freeze," Derek murmured, his breath warming Stiles's face.

"Yeah," Stiles agreed, voice hoarse from their intense kiss. "But, uh, what do we—"

"Tell everyone?"

Stiles nodded, wondering how the others would take the news. If Derek even wanted everyone to know yet because he wouldn't just be announcing that they were dating, he'd be coming out, and that was huge.

"Well, first I'll probably tell them that I'm bi. After that…" Derek took Stiles's hand, lifting it and kissing his knuckles. "We'll tell them we're…boyfriends?"

It came out more as a question than a statement, and Stiles's heart beat even faster—if that was possible.

"Are you sure?" he asked, not wanting Derek to feel pressured into putting a label on things too quickly. "We don't have to—"

"I've never been more sure about anything." Derek met his eyes, his gaze clear and steady. "I want to call you my boyfriend and have the world know that I'm yours and you're mine."

It was a yes—a resounding yes that seemed to echo in the quiet that followed, and a wave of relief crashed over him, mingling with excitement and a touch of nerves.

"Okay then, boyfriend," Stiles said with a grin that lit up his entire face. "Let's go inside and figure out the rest together."

Hand in hand, they walked back into the house, their future unwritten but promising. This was the start of something new, something real, and Stiles couldn't wait to see where it would lead.

#sterek #sterekfestsmidnight #sterekfestswinter2023 #sterekfests #sterekweekly #sterekweeklypresent #sterekbingo #holy shit i wrote something

[underdark-dreams]

Hey idk if you only write Tav x character but I am STARVED!!! Starved I say! For Karach x Dammon content. It just makes so much sense and as someone who remained platonic with Karlach I still wanted her to get some action and seeing how Dammon was RIGHT! FUCKING! THERE! It makes sense that they could maybe hook up and he’s been invested in helping her too and huuuuuuuUUUUUUUUH.

I know you like writing about them tieflings so if eventually if you are able you could write the two of them going at it like the touch starved babies they both are (Karlach for obvious reasons and Dammon bc he’s probably focused on his work most of the time).

I’m still shook over your Rolan x Tav fanfic you wrote and I can’t wait to see what you write in the future!

Dammon x Karlach [Explicit]

Touchable

"Damn I'm good. And you, you're...very touchable." An infernal blacksmith and a Blood War veteran walk into a bar. Who would have guessed that Dammon is a natural when it comes to handling fire?

Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Gentle Angst, Sweet/Hot

Word Count: 3,460 [Read on AO3]

“Of course, you’ll need to install it yourself.”

"Of course, of course—can’t touch the giant flaming woman," Karlach grinned at him. 

Dammon often noticed that Karlach smiled when things made her sad. He remembered the moment well, remembered each time he'd been given an opportunity to help tune that engine of hers.

Their most recent conversation stuck out with particular pain in his mind.

He'd spent many late nights burning the candles down in his room as he sketched and diagrammed and theorized. No matter how many sheets of parchment he filled, Dammon kept arriving at the same awful conclusion.

Even with his niche skills, he was all out of options for Karlach. She could either return to the sustaining fires of Avernus, or live on this plane however long she could manage before her engine was snuffed out.

Dammon couldn't even calculate whether she had years left or only months. Somehow, that made it so much more terrible.

Karlach took the news with superhuman optimism, the way she approached most things. She thanked him with tears in her eyes for at least giving her back the chance to touch and be touched. For that, her first hug in ten years was his. 

Hopefully it wouldn't be the last, Dammon found himself thinking, as her warm body pressed up firmly against him. She wasn't the only one who was long overdue for some physical affection.

Dammon had always thought of her now and then as he worked in his forge. Usually it was idle and passing, wondering whether her infernal parts were giving her any trouble. 

But lately, it was hard to shake her from his mind at all. Had she found someone to finally take to bed yet? Surely so, with how many years she'd be confined to unwilling celibacy. 

It embarrassed him to admit, but he fervently wished it could've been him. He wasn't much more than a humble smith, and she was practically the city’s hero at this point. How many times had she saved his own life? He'd lost track.

All these thoughts ran through Dammon's mind from where he sat at the bar of the Blushing Mermaid. As he surfaced from his reflection, the din and noise of the place pressed against his ears again.

Not as reputable as the Elfsong, perhaps, but it was closer to his forge. And it was easier to be left to yourself when all the other patrons were already piss-drunk.

"Hey, soldier!"

A friendly hand clapped his back, causing Dammon to nearly choke on his pint as Karlach slid into the seat beside him.

"Sorry," she said with a grimace, but her eyes were sparkling. "Gods, am I glad to see you."

Dammon wiped his mouth in surprise as she swung her very large mug up on the table. "You too, Karlach," he said with a genuine smile. It was like the very strength of his thoughts had conjured her. She looked better than ever.

"I didn't expect to see you here," he admitted. "I thought you'd be out enjoying the new you."

"Fucking someone's brains out, you mean?" Karlach finished for him. Dammon found her bluntness unbelievably attractive.

"To be honest that's why I'm here," she admitted, and rubbed her neck with a hand. "Camp's a bit awkward at the moment. I may have made a pass at Wyll that wasn't, er…enthusiastically received. Think I scared him off a bit," she finished ruefully.

Very much Wyll's loss, Dammon thought to himself. What he wouldn't give.

"Well, you picked the right place for drowning sorrows," he told her aloud. As if on cue, there was a loud chorus of booing as an empty glass went hurtling across the room to land on the low stage, where the half-orc lute player promptly lobbed it back into the crowd with a shattering crash. Dammon raised his arm out in demonstration of his point; Karlach was already cracking up.

"Fucking missed this city," she laughed, wiping a tear of mirth from her eye. They each took a generous drink of ale.

But Karlach wasn't distracted for long. "I just wish, you know?" She sighed. "I wish I could be with someone who understands a little bit. Sex is fabulous on its own, but I want everything, all of it."

"What's stopping you?" Dammon asked her, wondering what it would take for her to see him as a very viable option.

"So many things," she said. "I appreciate what you've done for me Dammon, please believe that I do, but…I still feel more machine than Karlach." 

"I'm pretty handy with mechanics, you know." Dammon was flirting with her despite himself. He couldn't help it; she was so radiant and lovely as she sat there close beside him.

Karlach finally glanced over at him, and he saw in her eyes that she'd caught it. 

"You must know I like you," she said, her voice low but intense. "Dammon, I like you so much. But you're so lovely, and I'm—" She gestured a hand down her front. "—This. Wild, unstable. What if I end up, I don't know, hurting you somehow?” She looked at him with a pained expression. “A guy like you deserves someone tender, and I'm not sure that's me."

All traces of joking were gone; the air between them had grown serious in a second. Dammon's heart thrummed strong against his ribs, and he reached for her fingers before he could stop himself.

"Maybe forget what you think I deserve, and listen to what I’m saying." He shook his head at her. "Karlach, you talk like you're some kind of monster. So you've got an infernal engine in your chest. And sure, you're tall as hell. But I mean, you've got plenty of—you're not short on any of the—" He was casting around for a gentlemanly way to describe her curves and realizing that it probably didn’t exist.

"Spit it out," Karlach teased him. But her expectant expression made his face grow warm.

"I just wish you wouldn't talk down about yourself like that," Dammon explained. "You're very womanly, and plenty desirable."

"Oh," she said, taken aback. Her free hand fiddled with the handle of her mug. "That's…no one's ever said something like that to me before."

What a damn shame that was. Dammon watched the doubt and confusion work over her features. How long had she thought of herself as nothing more than a tin soldier? He'd fixed what parts of her his hands could tend, but something in the way she saw herself was still broken. 

Dammon squeezed her fingers under his. "Karlach, there's so much about you to love. That I love. You are…an incredibly beautiful woman. Don't you know that?"

Karlach stared at him with wide eyes; her face looked somehow younger and softer. For a person so sure of everyone else's worth, she seemed so blind and unsure of her own.

"I am?" She asked, so quietly it broke his heart a little.

Dammon could only think of answering with a kiss. He leaned in with a careful tilt of the head, eyes on her mouth—in the last second he was elated to feel her lean forward to close the distance.

He would've honestly, truly believed that there were sparks between them. There was the fiery warmth of her skin, but Dammon also felt a tingling jolt between their lips that had nothing to do with her heat. His insides sung at the feeling of her lips moving over his with just as much urgency as he felt.

Dammon pulled her face deeper to him with a hand at the back of her neck. As his tongue explored her mouth and sought hers, he felt one of Karlach’s palms rest against his thigh. He could have choked on the desire that rose in his throat at her touch.

They both pulled away at the same instant.

"Your place?" She prompted, breathless.

"Mine," Dammon agreed. It was only a few minutes away, and though his bed was cramped even for one, he expected they wouldn't be sleeping much.

Dammon dumped some coin on the bar in a rush before they made their way outside. The cool breeze through the streets made him realize just how flushed and heated his skin was. His arm sought Karlach's waist beside him as they walked, and a thrill went through him at how lovely it was to finally hold her close. She seemed to feel the same.

"Gods, I can't wait to ride you," she said huskily. Dammon tried to keep a grip on his composure; her brazen eagerness made it very difficult. He settled for pulling her into a quick, heated kiss as they continued on. 

The two of them practically stumbled over the dark cobblestones of the entryway in their haze, both buzzing with impatience and expectation. By the time his nervous fingers had finally made work of the lock to his quarters, they were on each other before the door had latched behind them.

Karlach's leg hitched up over his hip as she devoured his mouth. Dammon's hand gripped behind her knee at once, holding their bodies steady against each other, kissing her back with sheer years of pent-up enthusiasm.

"You're strong," Karlach said as she surfaced, sounding pleased and surprised at once.

"'I'd hope so, after throwing around that hammer so long."

"You can throw me around." After a pause she added, "That's an invitation."

"I got that," Dammon grinned, absolutely smitten with her, and captured her lips again.

He guided them both toward the far end of his room and tumbled over her when they reached the mattress. His hands grazed the edge of her shirt, desire muddling his understanding of how to undo the many buckles and straps.

She took more pity on him than he deserved. Almost before he could blink she had freed herself of all her clothing, laying back naked before him on his bed. Pale, dim moonlight from the window illuminated her figure.

She was extraordinary.

Dammon quickly tugged his shirt past his snagging horns, wishing to feel her skin against his as soon as possible. Even before his head was free, he felt Karlach’s fingers helping with his pants, tugging them down past his hips and sliding them off onto the floor.

He hovered over her as they gazed at each other. The promise of bare flesh against flesh was almost overwhelming, now they were here. Dammon leaned down to place a tender kiss on her lips and then descended to explore her neck. 

Karlach’s arms clutched him eagerly as he kissed along her soft, warm skin. When he made his way down to her chest, he placed lips tenderly above her breast where the soft ticking of machinery resounded. It may not be a flesh and blood heart, but its rhythm was no less dear to him. She let out a soft, low hum.

Dammon wished he had more patience to linger. But instead he pushed his body down between her thighs, glancing up to check in on her for just a moment. Karlach watched him with a pained expression, lips parted—as if afraid he might not follow through with what his movements suggested. 

He wouldn't be teasing her for one second tonight. Dammon leaned down and ran the warm flat of his tongue up over her center.

His head was jerked slightly to the side as she grabbed at one of his horns with a moan. He didn't break from her, only licked at her steadily, smoothing and spreading her wetness up and over her soft folds. 

Even after all the work he'd done to cool her, she was still molten hot under his tongue—he thanked every god in the universe for his natural resistance. His lips closed firmly over her clit, sucking the spot as his tongue rolled her side to side in an achingly slow rhythm.

"Holy fuck," she panted from somewhere above him. "Holy fuck, Dammon—"

He curled one arm under and around her thigh, used thumb and index finger to spread her better for his mouth. He released his lips’ suction with an obscenely wet sound, replacing it with the circling pad of his thumb. She was delicious, but he sought to taste her deeper.

Dammon's tongue plunged deep into her cunt, so far that his nose pressed against where his fingers worked against her clit. 

Karlach cried out and squirmed violently under his mouth. Dammon's arms held her firm, angling her hips up and open against his searching mouth. His tongue thrust over and over unto her unbelievable heat as he tasted the sweet center of her, felt her satin walls constrict around him with each nudge of his tongue.

By now his own erection pressed painfully into the bed under him. He only shifted a little and continued on. She had so much more time to make up for, and Dammon was determined to be the one to satisfy her.

It wasn't long before Karlach's thighs were trembling against his ears. "Please," she whimpered desperately, nails clutching his hair to hold his face against her, as if begging him not to stop. He wouldn't have dreamed of it. His mouth worked her over with more enthusiasm than ever, swirling and sucking against her hot folds.

When she came around his tongue, the rush of her heat burst against his mouth and gushed out from her core. Dammon thought he might come just from the way her legs clenched desperately to keep his mouth working over her. He lapped up her sweet release faithfully with his tongue, even as his ears took in the far sweeter sounds of her shuddering, gasping moans.

Only once the twitching waves of her climax were receding under his lips did he glance up over her to see her face. 

Karlach’s eyes were closed, an expression of transcendent bliss painting her features. As he watched her pant through parted lips, her eyes opened slightly to look down at him where he still hovered between her thighs. He knew the lower half of his face must be dripping with her climax.

With a guttural sound, Karlach’s legs gripped around his middle to pull him just to where her arms could take over and guide him up over her. Dammon gathered himself just in time to land with palms braced on either side of her.

“Wait—” Dammon started, wishing to clean himself up first, but she was already pulling him into a kiss. She licked across his lips, tasting herself on him, before her tongue demanded entry into his mouth. He yielded more than willingly.

His painfully hard cock grazed her thigh as he moved over her. Karlach groaned into his mouth; the vibration of her lips against his sent yet another rush of blood to his throbbing length.

She broke away with a fresh glint of arousal already building behind her eyes. “Inside,” she directed him. “Right fucking now.”

Dammon needed no more encouragement. With fingers grasping under her back, he firmly lifted her body up and over his lap. The way she landed over him pressed her still-dripping heat against the underside of his cock. A trembling groan escaped him at the sensation. Nevertheless, he gathered himself enough to scoot back against the headboard for support.

Before he could fully prepare himself, Karlach’s hand had guided his tip between her folds. In the next motion, she descended down around his whole length at once.

“Fuck,” Dammon gasped. He wished he could find something more eloquent or romantic to describe the feeling, but his mind was wholly overwhelmed by the fiery warmth that gripped all around his cock. He could even feel her walls still fluttering against him from her recent climax. His fingertips dug into the flesh of her hips.

They crossed glances as she sat still to take him for a moment. Karlach’s eyes shone with desire and excitement, and something almost like love. One of Dammon’s hands slid up along her spine, dipping her neck down, capturing her lips in a tender kiss. He felt his mouth shaking slightly against hers.

“Every time alone, I imagined this,” Karlach breathed against him as they parted. 

Dammon thought he might unravel completely at her words. He leaned back against the hard wood behind him, eyes taking in every beautiful inch of her flesh, inviting her to do whatever she wanted with him.

She accepted the offer wordlessly. As her fingers clasped behind his neck, Karlach rocked her hips up and down over his length. He felt his jaw go slack at the feel of her heat surrounding him, taking him, over and over and over—

Dammon’s grip dug into her hips to add more force with each of her rhythmic thrusts down onto him. He gazed up at her with pure adoration as she took him. The feel of her warm skin against his lit a fire in his chest; his cock throbbed against the hot, squeezing silk of her walls.

“You’re so beautiful,” Dammon gasped before he could think. It was the truth, and she deserved to be told it—she deserved everything. He held her tight on his lap as took him, chasing her next release. Karlach’s hips faltered for a moment, and he realized she was already close.

Dammon felt her thighs trembling against him and pushed his back up straight to hold her closer as she rode his length. His palms pressed against her back, strong forearms circling and supporting her as she started to come apart yet again.

And she did—with a shuddering quake, Karlach grabbed his shoulders and let out a jumbled cry that was some mix of obscenities and his name.

She was incredible. Dammon watched the agony and ecstasy on her face as long as he could bear, as she rode out her second orgasm onto him, as her tight heat gripped and pulsed relentlessly around his cock. In the next moment his eyes squeezed shut as he was thrown wide to the delayed force of his own release, his hands spasming against her back as stars burst bright behind his eyelids.

After a long moment filled with nothing but the sounds of them keening and panting against each other, her chin dropped over his shoulder. Dammon felt her arms circle to grip around him tight.

As he listened to her breathing slow, she began to shake against him again. 

This time it was from the quiet sobs that heaved up from her chest. He held her head against the crook of his shoulder and stroked her hair as her tears flowed, feeling the droplets splash against and roll down his back.

Karlach cried from joy, blessed relief, aching sadness…from the pain of so much lost time and the knowledge of her limited future. It wasn't fair, none of it, and Dammon didn't know a single thing to say that might ease her burdened heart. 

Engine or no, she had more heart than anyone he'd ever known. He could only hold her to him tight as could be.

Seeking to comfort her further, Dammon worked his hips down the bed with her seated on him and tipped their connected bodies gently backwards. She collapsed without resistance on top of and against him. At least he could support her for a while, even if it was just with his silent body. 

After a little while, Karlach raised her head to look at him. Her face was streaked with tear tracks, but she was trying to smile through trembling lips. "I'm s-sorry," she choked out.

Dammon’s heart couldn’t bear it. He silenced her at once with a kiss. "Don't apologize to me," he whispered to her as he broke away, "or to anyone, ever."

He gathered her back up in his arms immediately. Karlach didn’t protest, only rested her cheek against his chest with a shuddering sigh. Dammon was vaguely aware of the sheen of sweat cooling all over his bare skin, but with her warm body nestled back up against him, he was more than comfortable.

Dammon pressed his lips to the skin of her forehead. He closed his eyes to focus on the way his heart beat against her chest; the steady hum of her body reverberated against him in response. Despite everything, the sound was dearer to him than he thought possible.

“Ready to go again?” Karlach asked suddenly. 

Dammon chuckled low in his chest, feeling the delayed ache in his limbs and realizing a bit late that the night’s exertions had only just begun.

“Give me a few minutes,” he requested with a lazy smile. “We’ve got time.”

#i love them i love them i love them #pls someone tell me their ship name #karlach x dammon #dammon x karlach #kardammon #bg3 karlach #bg3 dammon #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 #infernal metal #heartforge

[jazzycurls]

You belong to me - part 3.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Summary: It's a surprise 😉🤫

Warnings/Tags: 18+ minors dni! Cheating, angst, hurt & comfort, smut, masturbation (let me know if I missed something)

An: Hi, you guys! I guess I'm not new to writing anymore, but I'm still a newbie. All feedback is welcome. Be gentle please haha. Please do not steal or copy my work. Don’t repost without credit. This is my written work, everything besides the characters and plot points by the original writers, belongs to me. Love you guys, and thank you so much for the support, hope you enjoy ❤

Word Count: 6,445

You slam your front door and storm up the steps to your room. Your mom is at work, so you don't have to worry about being quiet coming into the house. Your mom is pretty laid back, pretty much giving you free rein to do whatever you want as long as it's within reason.

Yanking off your clothes, you stomp over to your bathroom and cut on the shower. You step into the stream of hot water, letting it flow over you. Sighing in relief as the water massages you, temporarily distracting you from your thoughts of Eddie.

You stay in there longer than you normally would, feeling slightly calmer than when you first got in. You put on a pair of pajamas, the ones your mom and dad bought you for Christmas when they were still together. It was the last Christmas you had as a family, and they had quickly become a favorite of yours even though they were getting to be too small for you.

You sat down on your bed preparing for sleep when you heard a knock at your door. Glancing at the clock on your bedside table, it read 12:45 a.m. 'Who's knocking at my door at this time of night,' you wondered.

You knew it wasn't Clara. She and Steve were likely having some aggressive cuddling right about now. Something that you were kinda jealous of right now if you had to be honest. Walking down the stairs, you grabbed a baseball bat out of the closet your mom kept for emergencies.

You stood on your tip toes, peeking out of the peephole. Your stomach fluttered in surprise at the sight of the back of Eddie's curly mane. Feeling a little petty, you called out "Who is it" through the door with a smirk on your face.

He turned around facing the door "It's Eddie," he answered.

You paused before replying, "I'm sorry, don't know an Eddie. You must have the wrong house," your tone was snippy with a hint of humor.

Eddie's face turned to confusion as he looked around. Could he have gotten the address wrong? "I'm sorry, does Y/n L/n live here," he questioned anxiously. It was late, and the thought of being in the suburbs made him uneasy. He didn't want someone to call the cops on him for a simple misunderstanding. Eddie wasn't stupid, he knew that the parents of Hawkins didn't like him and wouldn't hesitate to call the cops on him.

A moment of silence passed as he waited for the person on the other side to answer. Just as he was about to turn and walk away, he heard "Wait," and the clicking of the locks and deadbolt. The door slid open, and there you were.

He was stunned into silence when he saw you. You always looked beautiful to him but the sight of you in your girly pajamas, simply put, was the cutest fucking thing he ever saw. His cock began to stir in his jeans and he willed it to go down, this was not the time to sport a raging boner.

"How do you know where I live," you ask, leaning against the door frame.

Eddie looks at you for a moment before looking away bashfully "I may have followed you home once or twice before. But it was only to make sure you got home safe y'know? Just on the days when you had to walk home," he added quickly. 

"Okay, that's totally not creepy. You know what, I don't care honestly. Why are you even here Eddie," you question, you can feel that your patience is starting to wear thin.

"I um—," he starts nervously before clearing his throat. "I wanted to apologize." He twists the rings on his fingers as he tries to keep eyes on your face.

"You could've just called then," you responded shifting your weight to one foot and resting your hand on your hip. Eddie's gaze follows your movements before snapping back up and meeting your eyes. He blushes at the smirk on your face knowing you just caught him checking you out.

"I thought it would be more sincere if I did it in person," he said sheepishly shrugging his shoulders, mentally kicking himself for not thinking this through.

You stand there silently in contemplation. "C'mon you say, turning around and walking back into the house with Eddie following close behind. It's chilly outside and you'd rather do this in the house than stand outside in the cold. You walk over and stand near the bottom of the stairs, waiting for Eddie as he closes the door, and walks over to you. You cross your arms as you raise your eyebrow expectantly.

"Right," he says scratching the back of his head. "I'm sorry Y/n, I was an asshole—,"

"An inconsiderate asshole," you interrupt with a smirk.

"An inconsiderate asshole and I wasn't thinking clearly. I just got so jealous when I saw you with that asshat Billy that I just reacted without thinking. So I'm sorry Y/n, please forgive me," he finishes in one breath, dropping to his knees and clasping his hands underneath his chin.

You roll your eyes at his dramatics, stepping closer to him causing him to look up at you. His eyes like usual are big and wide, immediately catching your attention. Although his gesture is playful his eyes are filled with sincerity. Realizing that you've been standing there staring into his eyes for a while, you cough as you look away, embarrassed.

"I forgive you," you whisper, still looking away. Eddie grabs you by the waist and pulls you in for a hug. Your heart lurches, and you look down at him in shock. A smile slowly spreads across your face, and you bring your hands to rest upon his hair. He presses his face into the softness of your belly, and you hum happily, temporarily forgetting that you two weren't on good terms.

With a deep inhale, Eddie takes all of you in, feeling drunk off of the smell of you. You remind him of the floral baskets that his mom used to buy before she got sick. There's also a hint of your natural scent that teases his senses, making him wish he could bottle up your fragrance and keep it with him at all times.

You look back down at Eddie as he glances back up at you. Something about the way you have him on his knees for you has you clenching your thighs together. A motion that doesn't go undetected by Eddie. One moment you're staring at each other and the next your lips are crashing together in a heated kiss full of tongue and teeth.

Eddie's hands slide up and down your waist finally settling to cup your ass, kneading and massing it playfully. The loose cotton of your clothing allows him to push your cheeks up and apart. The movement causes your panties to slide up as your lips spread apart sucking the fabric in greedily. He does this a few times making you wet in the process.

Your grip on his hair tightens and a low moan tumbles from his lips, eliciting a wave of arousal to flow from you, drenching your panties. Eddie stands up taking you with him as you continue the kiss. Your legs wrap around his waist as he walks you both towards the stairs.

It's a miracle you both make it up there in one piece. Pressing you up against the wall, the kiss becomes more heated and you pull away, feeling lightheaded as you take in a shaky breath. Eddie doesn't stop there, now seeing an opportunity to lay claim to your neck that's now exposed to him. He licks a stripe from the bottom of your neck to your hairline before placing a sweet kiss behind your ear.

You moan in response and he attacks your soft skin sucking it between his lips sensually. His fingers are gripping your hips tight as he presses you further into the wall. Your mind is no longer your own as you grind your hips against his suggestively.

"Shit Y/n, you're going to be the death of me, baby. You know that?" he mumbles against your skin.

"My room— it's over there," you motion with your head, ignoring his question. You know that if you don't go to your room right now, the possibility of Eddie taking you, up against this wall is very likely.

Eddie moves you both again, headed in the direction you pointed him in. In no time, he's standing beside your bed and dropping you down onto the soft mattress. You squeak in surprise and before you can protest, he drops down on top of you, crushing his mouth against yours once more.

Eddie feels as if he's going insane. His mind is consumed with only you as he attempts to devour you. One second he's licking into and around your mouth, the next he's sucking and nipping at your exposed chest, leaving bruising marks along the way.

You're just as desperate, as your hands feel and grope him wherever they can reach. Committed to hearing those sweet moans tear out of his throat whenever your hand grazes a sensitive area. "Eddie," you whine as your hips rut against his. "I need you."

Eddie looks up at you with a devious grin "Where are your manners baby? That's no way to ask for something," he chides, thrusting his hips up into yours, earning a gasp from you.

"Please Eddie, I need you," you whimper, tears collecting at the corners of your eyes. The lack of orgasms you've been experiencing for the past couple of weeks makes you feel desperate and needy.

"Awe my poor baby needs it. Well, what baby wants baby gets," Eddie replies as he leans up and shrugs out of his jacket. You whine at the loss of contact. Eddie shushes you and you sit up on your elbows watching him undress. He's down to his birthday suit in a matter of seconds and you stare at him unabashedly.

"Like what you see," he grins, shaking his erect cock at you.

You look away embarrassed, a heated flush creeping along your neck, settling onto your chest. Eddie descends upon you again taking your chin between his fingers "Eyes on me sweetheart," he mumbles giving you a chaste kiss.

You look back at him, watching as he presses kisses down your throat, stopping when your shirt gets in the way. Dragging his hands up your sides he removes your shirt and you lean up a little as he pulls it up and over your head.

He continues slowly, taking his time as he presses soft kisses and licks into your skin. You shift your pelvis against him impatiently, earning a stern look from him. "Behave," he demands, stopping his movements altogether.

Your heart hammers in your throat and you nod warily at him. You're not sure why but whenever you're with him, your instincts are always geared toward listening to and pleasing him. A reaction you've never had with anyone else.

Satisfied with your response, he moves down to your shorts, pressing his nose directly into your center. "Fuck, how do you smell so good," he groans, grinding himself into your mattress.

You shrug your shoulders, even though he can't see you, and grind your hips into his face. His nose bumps against your clit deliciously. Pleasure shoots through you and your hips began to move erratically, desperate for more.

Eddie leans away again and he makes a tsk tsk sound with his tongue. "Such a needy little slut aren't you?" He snatches down your shorts and panties, throwing them over his shoulder. "Here I was, about to give you some pleasure with my tongue and you're being ungrateful."

He climbs back up the bed up to your face. You shake your head at him "No Eddie, I didnt mean—,"

Eddie silences you with a kiss that takes your breath away "Shhh baby, it's okay. I know what you need and I'm going to give it to you right now," he says rubbing his member along your wet folds before pushing deep inside of you. Your hands fly onto his shoulders gripping him tight as your face scrunches up in pain. He gets halfway in before he's stopped unable to go any further.

"You're a virgin," he asks surprised, you had never mentioned it before, so he had assumed that you weren't.

You shake your head no "Once before but he wasn't as big as you," you manage between labored breaths.

Eddie groans, fingers holding your hips tight as he restrains from driving his cock deeper into you "Shit, Y/n. You should've told me, this changes everything," he mumbles in a strained voice against your lips.

You clutch him tighter against you, afraid that he's going to leave. One of his hands leaves your hips, slipping between you both as he rubs slow circles into your clit. Your reaction is instant as whines and moans fly from your mouth in a voice that surprises you. Eddie pulls out and pushes back in slowly when he feels you beginning to loosen up. Arousal seeps out of you, coating his and your thighs generously.

Switching his ministrations, he starts to rub faster into your clit in a side-to-side motion. Your orgasm creeps up on you with no warning and Eddie drives his cock into you up to the hilt. The pain blending with pleasure only heightens the intensity of your orgasm as you come with a breathless cry.

The feel of you has Eddie's hips faltering. He swears that this is what heaven must feel like as your gummy walls squeeze him over and over again. He keeps up his pace as he fucks you through your orgasm, his fingers relentless on your clit.

Leaning down his lips captures yours in a heart-stopping kiss. It's sloppy and erratic but so full of passion that it steals your breath away. You've never felt like this before, the intensity of this mutual desire between you scares and excites you all at once.

He wants you to come again, he needs you to. He wants you to feel as good as he does right now. "Fuck Y/n, tell me your close baby," Eddie begs, his voice hoarse and deep. He can feel his orgasm creeping up and it's taking everything in him to hold it off.

"Yeah, I— I'm close Eddie," you stammer, wrapping your legs around him and pulling him deeper inside of you.

Eddie grinds into you, his pubic bone rubbing against your clit repeatedly. Your legs begin to shake as you reach your peak, wave after wave of arousal crashing over you. Pornographic moans flow from you as you ride out your high.

Your cunt tightens, clenching Eddie's cock in a death grip, quickly sending him over the edge. His hand grips yours tightly and the other is resting on your throat squeezing lightly. He comes with a pretty moan, grunting as he twitches and jerks inside of you.

"Fuck, I'm sorry. I meant to pull out," Eddie says as he starts to panic.

You shush him, pressing your finger against his soft lips "It's okay.  We'll just get a plan b in the morning okay?"

Eddie nods, visibly relaxing once more. His breath is shaky as he rests his weight gently on top of you, pressing kisses all over your face. Your hands caress his back gently, enjoying the feel of him inside you and the sticky mess you both created. Slowly he pulls out of you, collapsing onto his side. With one arm propped behind his head, he pulls you closer to him, cuddling you close.

Your eyes are hooded and relaxed as you incline into his touch. 'You look so beautiful,' he thinks, rubbing his hand up and down your side. His heart feels full and his stomach feels as if it's twisted in knots. He's nervous, not sure of what to say next. He wants to tell you that he's leaving Chrissy and that he wants to be with you instead. But the peaceful look on your face stops him, his words wither and die on his tongue. He doesn't want to ruin the moment, so he tucks you to his side, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You let out a sigh of content as you relax in his arms. You fall asleep quickly. You dream of Eddie kissing you as he tells you he loves you. With no hesitation, you tell him that you love him too.

Eddies heart soars when you tell him you love him too. Feeling brave enough to confess while you were asleep, he didn't think you could hear him let alone respond. He kisses your lips once again before falling fast asleep.

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You sat at the lunch table and pushed around the food on your plate with a small smile. After what happened after the party this weekend, you were in better spirits than you had been in a long time. You held back a laugh as you thought of the morning after with Eddie.

Your friend had come over to your house the next day to check up on you and your mom had gotten off early, so they had both arrived at the same time. Thankfully, Eddie hadn't parked directly in front of the house, choosing to park across the street to avoid suspicion if your mom were to arrive.

He scrambled to put on his clothes, giving you a lingering kiss before hauling ass out of the window when the coast was clear. You had just dived back under the covers to hide your nakedness when your best friend waltzed in. With a raised brow she had asked why you were nude. You responded that it was too hot to be bothered with clothes, even though fall was quickly approaching.

She stifled a giggle as she told you that she just wanted to come to check on you after what happened at the party. Word had gotten around pretty quickly about the altercation between Eddie and Billy, with you somehow in the middle of it all. You had given her as much information as you could without letting on exactly what your relationship with Eddie was. The disbelief in her eyes told you that she knew that there was much more than you were letting on. She didn’t pressure you for the truth, only telling you that she was here if you needed her, to which you had given her a hug and a smile.

So here you were, lost in your thoughts, oblivious to your surroundings. Suddenly, it seemed that all sound had ceased within the cafeteria, causing the room to go eerily silent. You raised your head in confusion, only to find Chrissy standing beside you at your table with an unreadable expression on her face. All of the students at the other tables had stopped talking to watch the interaction. It was as if everyone

could sense something was about to happen and were tuned in.

“Um, Hi Chrissy. Did you need something?” you asked politely, confused as to why she was just standing at your table, not saying anything. Anxiety began to fester within you, causing your palms to sweat as your nerves started to get the best of you.

“I don’t think you can Y/n. You see I have this problem, it seems that my boyfriend is fucking someone else! Is that something you think you can help me with?” Chrissy asks you in a condescending tone.

Your throat runs dry at her words as you glance around the room nervously. Your eyes glance over to the Hellfire table only to find Eddie's seat empty. You notice his friend Gareth is staring at you with a concerned look on his face before getting up and running out of the cafeteria.

You look back over to Chrissy, her expression is one of pure hatred as she looks down at you. “Chrissy, can we go talk about this somewhere else,” you plead, conscious of the many eyes now directed at you. Your stomach begins to turn, sick with embarrassment from the scene unfolding before you.

“What’s the matter, you don’t want everyone to know what a slut you are?!” Chrissy yells causing you to jump in your seat.

“Chrissy, please don’t do this,” you choke out, as a sob escapes from you.

“No, fuck you and stay the fuck away from my boyfriend!” she shouts as she slaps you across the face. Your head swivels to the right from the impact and you hold your stinging cheek in shock.

Your friend Clara jumps up from her seat beside you and shoves Chrissy backward. “Back up bitch… I mean it! You made your point, now leave!” she threatens, her eyes raging with fury.

Chrissy looks between you both before turning and walking away with her head held high. Her friend throws a glare at you before turning and following after Chrissy. A symphony of hushed whispers begins to circulate around you. Your entire body is hot with humiliation and guilt. You can feel the blood rushing to your ears, making it hard for you to understand what your friend is saying.

She sees that you're unresponsive and your eyes are unfocused. Her hand grabs yours and pulls you up, throwing an arm around your shoulders in comfort. You both walk out of the cafeteria, heading towards the school's entrance when you see Eddie running down the hallway shoving people out of the way.

He skids to a stop in front of you, resting his hands on his knees from the exertion of running full speed across the school in seconds. "Y/n, what happened? Are you okay? Talk to me please!" he yells out breathlessly.

"Eddie, go talk to your girlfriend and leave Y/n alone. She'll call you when she's ready. If you care about her, then give her that at least." Clara's tone is harsh and leaves no room for any argument. Her only concern is getting you out of this God-forsaken school and to your house in one piece.

Eddie's face is full of emotions, he opens his mouth to protest but one look at your face has him closing it in an instant. Your eyes are watery with unshed tears. The look on your face is unreadable but shakes him to the core enough to agree that you need to get out of here as soon as possible.

He turns to your friend and nods his head, silently agreeing with her. He gives you one last look in hopes that you'll acknowledge his presence. Your face is stoic, still holding the same blank stare as before. He grabs your hand and gives it a quick kiss before Clara has the chance to protest.

"Call me, please Y/n," he whispers into your ear before letting go. Clara takes hold of your hand again, pulling you gently towards the double doors as Eddie watches you walk away.

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You stare blankly at your tv as you lay in your bed. Your mom was currently at work on the graveyard shift, usually something that you hated, but you were eternally grateful for it at the moment. You weren't in the right headspace to deal with questions about why you left school early.

Clara had brought you home a few hours ago and had stayed with you awhile before leaving to go home. You were quiet as she comforted you, promising that everything would be okay. You had managed to hold back your tears, letting them break free once she was gone.

You had cried for hours, wallowing in pity at the situation you had allowed yourself to get involved with. You also cried at the fact that even though you had just gotten into an altercation with Chrissy, Eddie was still at the forefront of your mind.

A soft thump from your window startles you, pulling you from your thoughts. Your mouth opens in a silent scream and your body tenses as you prepare to run like hell. You relax when you see that it's Eddie at your window sill, hanging precariously by the lattice secured against the siding of your house. Within that same breath, you're back on edge again as you make your way over to the window.

"Can I come in Y/n," Eddie pleads. His brown eyes are big and wet as he peers at you from behind the glass.

You sigh in disbelief and let up your window.

"Why are you here, shouldn't you be with Chrissy?" Your tone is cold and bitter as you sit back on your bed hugging your knees to your chest.

He walks over to you slowly lowering down to his knees onto the soft carpet. He cranes his neck in an attempt to meet your lowered gaze. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you Y/n. What Chrissy did today— you didn't deserve that. It should've been me, I'm the one to blame," his words come out choked as he attempts to hold back a sob.

"I tried to stay away. I tried so fucking hard to but I can't! You've got this hold on me and even now after everything that's happened, I don't regret it, not for one second. I'm just sorry for all the hurt I've caused everyone." His head lowers onto the bed beside your feet as sobs began to wrack his frame.

Your forehead is pressed tightly against your knees as tears roll silently down your face onto your thighs. Minutes pass before you finally respond, allowing your hand to blindly seek out his. Your hand finds his soft curls and you stroke them gently. Comforting him and yourself at the same time.

He leans into your touch, turning his face onto the palm of your hand. His lips are soft against your skin as he presses a delicate kiss to your palm.

Your breath hitches "Eddie I— We can't. We've done enough damage already," you whisper.

"I know Y/n, I'm sorry. Can I at least hold you? No funny business I promise." He looks up at you with puppy dog eyes and his lips formed into a small pout.

Your heart twists, wrenching out all of your bad emotions and leaving a warm feeling in its wake. You nod your head and scoot over, making room for him on your bed. You lay down as he quickly shucks off his shoes and jacket, sidling behind you at a respectable distance. He slips an arm around your middle "Is this okay," he whispers.

"Yeah," you respond wearily, the impact of the day finally catching up to you. The sounds from the tv drones on, providing the right amount of noise to distract you from your thoughts. You feel yourself begin to nod in and out as you fight to stay awake.

Eddie lays his hand on yours, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles soothingly as he thought of what happened today. He hated that Chrissy attacked you for something he had initiated. He had tried to break things off with her over the weekend but she wouldn't accept any of his calls. He was foolish enough to believe that he could do it at school but that proved to be harder than he thought. Chrissy had avoided him like the plague that entire day. When lunch came he was behind the school making a sale when Gareth came to tell him what happened. He would never forgive himself for not being there to protect you.

He feels your body relax as you drift off to sleep. His senses are heightened at being so close to you and naturally, his body begins to react but he ignores it completely. Now is not the time and frankly, it may never be again. He just wants to enjoy this moment with you for what it is, happy that he's finally giving you some semblance of peace instead of taking it away. After a while, he too falls asleep with his hand linked tightly to yours.

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You wake up to the sounds of Eddie's light snores. His breath fans across the back of your neck with each exhale leaving goosebumps in its wake. Sometime during sleep, the gap between you had closed and his body was now flush against yours as he cuddled you close to him.

You take a deep breath, allowing yourself to enjoy the feel of his arms wrapped around you. The events of yesterday still linger within you but the sting of hurt and sorrow is less than before. A sense of peace washes over you as you lean back into his touch. The sun is just starting to rise and you guess that you have a few hours before school starts.

"Hmmm," Eddie's deep voice reverberates through you. He pulls you in even closer, kissing the top of your head. "Good morning, sweetheart," he murmurs sleepily, still not fully awake.

"Morning," you reply softly, pressing your face into your pillow. The knowledge of going to school today weighs heavy on your shoulders.

Your sudden movement jostles him awake, and he scoots back from you, putting space between you both once more. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get so close. Sometimes I tend to cuddle in my sleep."

"I kinda figured that out the last time you were here," you smirk. You pause for a moment before continuing "how did you know that? Shit— I'm sorry, you don't have to answer that, it's none of my business."

Eddie clears his throat fully awake now. "Um‐ I might've cuddled Gareth and Jeff by mistake before at a sleepover but let's not talk about that," he says changing the subject hastily.

You let out a laugh that sounds more like a creaky bedspring. Eddie turns your body over to face him, a big smile sits on his face. "There she is," he whispers excitedly taking your hand into his, and giving it a soft squeeze. You squeeze back, giving him a soft smile.

"Are you going to school," he asks tentatively. He hates to ruin the moment but the thought was nagging him incessantly.

Your smile drops from your face immediately turning into a frown. "Yeah, I have a big test today and I can't afford to miss it," you reply.

"Whatever happens today, just know that I'll be there for you. I swear it." Eddie looks at you, his brown eyes are filled with warmth.

You hold his gaze and you can tell that he is being genuine. Nodding your head you exhale shakily, mentally prepping yourself for what's to come. Eddie lifts your hand to his face and stops, hovering near his lips, silently asking you for permission. You nod your head and he kisses each knuckle, lingering on the last. "I love you," he says pressing another kiss into your skin.

Your heart skips a beat and soars at his words before quickly plummeting back down. You can't accept his confession, not like this. Not at someone else's expense. "Eddie I—," you began slowly.

"Shhh, I know baby. You don't have to say it. I'm going to make things right like I should've done a long time ago." He lets out a deep breath before letting go of you to sit up. You instantly miss his warmth and it takes all of your strength not to pull him back down beside you.

"I gotta go and get ready for school. I'll see you there okay?" Eddie says as he kneels to tug on his shoes.

You nod your head once again, too afraid of the emotions threatening to escape if you open your mouth. The look on your face makes his heart twist and he finds himself in front of you, pulling you up into his arms. "I'm sorry if this is too much but you looked like you could really use a hug." Selfishly he holds you close, relishing the feel of your body pressed to his.

Your arms hang limply at your sides and just as he's about to let go and apologize, you wrap your arms around him, squeezing him back just as hard. He sighs, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding. You hold each other for a moment before letting go. He presses a kiss to your forehead and walks over to your window. "See ya soon," he promises as he lets up the window and climbs down the lattice.

You quickly walk over to your window, watching him as he crosses your lawn to his van. Before getting in, he looks up at your room, giving you a wave when he sees you standing at the window. With a smile, you give him a small wave as he climbs into his van and drives away.

The smile on your face fades once Eddie's gone from your sight. You turn around with a sigh as you start getting ready, the thought of going to school after what happened feels you with a sense of dread. The only thing preventing you from ditching is wanting to maintain your grades and knowing that your best friend and Eddie would be there for support if you needed it. You repeat that fact as it gets closer and closer to the time for you to leave.

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Eddie skids into the school parking lot, parking crookedly into a spot just as the first bell rings. Cursing under his breath, he quickly jumps out and runs through the double doors toward his locker. After making the fastest pit stop in history, he makes his way to your locker, bumping and pushing stragglers out of the way. He looks around when he doesn't see you. He had wanted to make sure you were okay first thing this morning, knowing that he wouldn't see you again until lunch.

Letting out a frustrated grunt he kicks one of the lockers, startling a few people standing nearby. "Freak," they mutter and whisper to each other as they walk by hurriedly. He rolls his eyes as he makes his way to class, he's debating on whether he should stop by and peek into your class or not when he bumps into someone causing them to stumble.

"Whoa, sorry about that," he says, the apology dying on his lips as he realizes the person in front of him was none other than Chrissy. "Hey— we need to talk." His tone is dull but sure as he keeps his gaze level with hers.

"Yeah, we should. Look, Eddie— whatever thing you had going on with Y/n, I'm willing to overlook it okay?" She holds her books close to her chest, nervously fiddling with her car keys clutched in her hands.

"I'm sorry Chrissy, I just can't— I can't do this anymore and it has nothing to do with Y/n. Things have been the same with us for a long time and you know it." Eddie replies firmly.

"Eddie, I need you," she yells out tearfully. Her shrill voice echoes down the now empty hallway, the tardy bell rings announcing that they are now late for class.

"I'm sorry Chrissy but it's—" Eddie begins but Chrissy cuts him off before he can finish.

"My dreams, they're back and it's getting worse. I think he's back Eddie and he's going to finally win this time," Chrissy whispers, keeping her eyes trained on the floor.

A bolt of fear shoots through Eddie piercing him through the heart. It couldn't be. No way. They had defeated Vecna and he was gone for good. But what if he wasn't? Then that would mean Chrissy was right and she did need his help. How could he abandon her when he was the only one close to her that understood what she was going through? His thoughts turned to Y/n, you were so close to finally being his and now once again it seemed as if something was keeping you apart.

Fat drops of tears sit at the corners of her eyes threatening to fall. Eddie remains silent, his thoughts running rampant, jumping from one thing to the next. A noise from the other end of the hall catches Chrissy's attention.

She flies into his arms, knocking him backward in surprise. Her arms wrap around him and she clings to him possessively. Too stunned to react, he stands there as she holds him, resting her head on top of his shoulder.

Unbeknownst to him you just walked through the school entrance. You were making your way to your locker, when you stopped in your tracks, shocked by the sight in front of you. You could feel your heart breaking in two as you watched Eddie and Chrissy embrace each other. Your feet began to move you closer as your mind screamed for you to leave and go back home to the comfort of your bed. As you get closer, you notice that Chrissy is staring directly at you with an eerie wicked grin on her face.

The look is ominous, making you gasp in shock at the sight. You'd never known she could look so evil, aside from yesterday she always had a smile on her face.

The sound you make catches Eddie's attention and his head turns your way, eyes locking with yours. His face is pale with what looks like fear and his eyes are dull. For a moment you want nothing more than to comfort him and tell him that everything will be okay but in a flash, it's gone. All you can feel is hurt and betrayal at his broken promise.

You keep your head high and walk past them toward your class. You don't dare turn back, not even when you hear Eddie's pained voice calling out for you. Not even when the tears start falling once again.

Taglist: @bibieddiesgf @tlclick73 @seventhlevelofhell @emmysuebull22 @adequate-superstar @vintagehellfire @sidthedollface2 @blue-eyed-lion @hazydespair @fly-on-the-wall @nicolaj1978

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things smut #eddie angst #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut #eddie my beloved #eddie smut #eddie x chrissy #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson hurt/comfort #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things x y/n #eddie x y/n #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #stranger things fluff

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part ten

summary: may the odds be ever in your favour.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.3k

masterlists / nav / requests

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

a/n: playlist coming v soon!!

series masterlist // playlist

Coriolanus lets out a scream of anger as he pulls the weight of the cement block down on the boy again, dishing out every last bit of rage he had over the inconvenience he had caused. He had to. He was sure the tribute was already dead, but one more hit couldn't hurt- not when he needed to make sure he was really done; not when it felt so powerful the first time.

He's breathing heavily, staring down at the body in front of him with his curls falling in his face, preventing him from seeing reality. Shielding him from seeing you.

You open your mouth to speak, but you can't. To ask if he's okay, but clearly he is- that final blow was too late to be a hit out of desperation, panic, or pain. It was pure, unnecessary retaliation. It went against everything you stood for. Everything you said.

Coriolanus was Coriolanus indeed; you could see it in the darkness that suddenly appeared behind his eyes. It was like he had done it for fun.

He looks up only when you take a step back, shoe crunching over the rubble underneath your sole and alerting him to your presence.

"Y/N-"

You look between the boy you thought you knew and the battered body on the ground. You take another hasty step back.

The power he thought he felt was replaced instantly by guilt when he saw the look on your face. He wasn't sure your kind features were even capable of showing an emotion so abrasive as disgust- but that was all he could think of to describe what he had to guess was going on behind your eyes. Betrayal, maybe. Horror, even, at something he had done. He moves to take a step toward you, dropping the metal rod in his hand so maybe you'd give him the chance to explain but you were taking off like a bird in the street threatened by a moving car the second he moved a muscle. He freezes, hand extended toward you despite you being too far to reach.

You were scared. Of him.

He very quickly had more pressing matters than your understanding or coping with the idea that you had run from him since he was now hearing the war cry of Coral and her pack as they ran from the tunnels toward the exit he was standing under.

He was grateful you had fled before that, hoping they didn't see you before you hid away again. He hops back over the gate, grabbing Sejanus and forcing him through the front entrance just in time.

"For Coriolanus, when I am gone."

He reads over the words on the outside of the intricately folded note over and over again, sitting at his desk and trying to ignore the stitches pulling at his back. Sejanus had given the note to him when he was discharged from the hospital. A note from you. It was a goodbye, he knew it. Something about your delicate handwriting on the outside felt so sacred to him.

"My Dearest Corio,

For once, I cannot express with words what I need to say to you. Regrettably, Sejanus is waiting so I must find something to say soon. I'll begin with thank you. You told me not to thank you until you had done something for me, but what you didn't understand was that you already had. Having a friend at the end has meant the world to me. I wish I could tell my family about you. When I can't sleep at night, I think of how much they would love you, and how we could sit together in the field at night and look at the stars. I hope one day you get to see them.

I apologize that I have to ask one more thing of you. I admit, I do not know how your mentorship works, but I hope with all my heart that I have done enough for you to win your prize. I regret that I will never know. I'm sorry that you ended up with me, you deserved better. I feel like you weren't given a choice, though I know you would never admit that. I digress. All I ask is that you do not forget me. You don't have to feel guilt, or think of me all the time, I just hope you read Romeo and Juliet one day and guess which parts were my favourite. Or that if you're out on cold nights when the breeze chills your skin, you'll think of us. I also hope that is not too much to ask of you. I suppose, again, I will never know.

If I can take your position for a moment and mentor you; I have some advice I would like to offer. Be whatever you want to be, do what you want to do. Don't let anything or anyone stop you from being good. Your kindness, Corio, was not lost on me while I had the pleasure of knowing you. I've seen who you are, and I will never forget.

I must tell you posthumously that you are the closest thing to my own Romeo Montague I have been lucky enough to have in my life, but our story is different. You get to grow up, change, have a life, and fall in love. Please do. See the beauty in everything and do not let the cruelties of the world change the goodness in your soul.

"Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!"

With love and not nearly enough time,

Y/N

He couldn't resist unfolding the page in his hands and reading it. Every inch of the page was covered in your scrawled print, urgent from not wanting to keep Sejanus waiting for too long. You were still very much alive, but he was probably dead to you and he saw that in your eyes as you looked at him with nothing short of fear. He was supposed to be your Romeo, or at least you thought so when you wrote it. And he wanted that for you. He regrets so deeply that he took that perspective from you. It was a mistake- but maybe, if you won, you would see that for what it was and forgive him.

He wanted to crush up the note and throw it against the wall, tear it to shreds and light it on fire and burn away the fact he had ever met you, but he knew he didn't want to. It was all he would have left of you. He couldn't lose it, even if he hated himself for ruining what you could have had.

Instead, he folded it back up and put it on the shelf where his mother's compact once was before crawling into bed and crying until he finally passed out.

"You can explain it to her, Coryo. I know she will be reasonable." Tigris smiles sadly at him, helping him once again with his blazer following yet another back injury.

He hadn't said anything to trigger her sympathies this morning besides having puffy eyes in her presence. Though, the wall that separates their bedrooms is thin- it was likely that despite the muffling of his sheets, she had heard his cries. He had told her everything, he always did.

"Would you like me to come with you today? I can miss just one day of work, no harm will be done." His cousin offers. He wants to decline, her income is all they had, but if Coryo was being honest with himself, he needed someone in his corner.

"Okay." He agrees quietly and she smiles, patting the front of his uniform.

"I'll grab my things, can you wait a few moments?" She asks, already heading for her room.

"Of course." He nods. In another moment of self-honesty, he realizes he doesn't even want to go. But he had to be there. For you. If you had even survived the night.

When you decided there was enough daylight, you crawled back deeper into the vents. Seemingly you were safe there, if you had to guess it was almost noon and no one had bothered you. You were on your way to check on Jessup- that was a better use of your time than dwelling on what you witnessed last night and slipping deeper and deeper into a downward spiral.

You approach the grate in the vent you entered through, peeking in to see if he was still there. "Jessup?" You whisper, unable to see him. Worried when you get no response, you slide the cover off and hang your head out of it to look around. He was curled up against the wall across the room, and he looked distressed. Shaking, crying, skin ashen.

"Jessup?" You call toward him again, beginning to climb down to go check on him.

He's not responsive to you, not as you take a few hesitant steps closer. "Are you okay?"

His head snaps up to look at you. "Y/N?"

You smile a little, surprised he even remembered your name in his state. "Hi." You crouch down in front of him. "What do you need? Are you holding up okay?"

Again, no response.

"I'll get you some supplies." You whisper to him, knowing that if the microphones pick it up, Coryo would likely send you nothing when you emerge into the open area. He was very clear that you shouldn't share, but Jessup clearly needed help. He'd been down here for over a day without food or water, but now, you didn't know that you had anyone to help. You had Coryo and Sejanus, but now Sejanus hated you and Coryo was never who you thought he was. It had haunted you all night.

"I'll be back soon, okay?" You smile at Jessup reassuringly, standing and untying the scarf so you can get back up into the vents.

Coryo hadn't heard what you said to the boy, but when you reemerged from the vents after checking it was mostly clear, he knew what you were there for. It was decently safe, spare for Reaper who had collected and covered several bodies with a torn flag while you were gone. Making eye contact with him startles you, but you don't move. Neither does he. You give him a nod of understanding as he kneels next to the aboveground grave, which he returns. Lamina wasn't on her beam anymore, and that makes your heart clench. It took you a long time to get from one place to the next using the vents- anything could have happened in the time you weren't watching.

Now that you've established that you're safe, you look to the nearest camera with hopeful and tired eyes. Coryo knows you want to bring whatever he would send back down to Jessup.

He chews his lip, looking between you and the small screen in front of him. He shouldn't enable you to help another tribute, but it did look fruitless. Jessup was not well, not at all, and it would be a waste to even bother feeding him. At the same time, after what he had done last night, after what you witnessed, he would have to buy back your trust. Allowing you to help your friend is his only way to do that, at the moment. So he selects the water and sends it, followed by some bread.

You receive it, giving a weak, almost hesitant smile to the camera with the food and water tucked against your chest. "Thank you." He can only read your lips before you disappear again.

Climbing back out of the vent, this time with a water bottle and some bread in hand as you drop to the ground, you startle your friend. "Hey, Jessup." You say, raising your free hand to calm him. "I brought you something to eat."

You approach him carefully as he stares at you. You hold the items out to him, but he doesn't take them. "Do you want some help?" You offer, kneeling down in front of him. "Here," You tear off some of the bread and try to hand it to him. After not eating enough for so long, smaller pieces would probably be easier. "It may be a little dusty from the vent, but it's still good. You need to eat."

Then, without warning, he slaps the items out of your hand and shoves you back. "What did you do to it?!" He shouts as you fall back on your butt, quickly shuffling yourself back away from him.

"Nothing! Nothing, Jessup, shh, we gotta be quiet down here..." You try and calm him, still backing away.

"You're trying to kill me!" He yells, ignoring your pleas for him to be quiet, reaching for the now empty and broken water bottle that spilled out over the floor.

"I would never, I just want to help!" You try and assure him, standing up and backing away. Clearly, he doesn't want to talk as he's jumping at you, now with a weapon in hand.

You have to run. There's no time to get back into the vent, making a run for the door and throwing yourself through the hole at the bottom.

"Why would you do this?!" He shouts after you as you run down the halls of the tunnel, still trying to stay as quiet as possible through your heavy breathing. "What have you done?!"

"Lyssie- what is he doing?" Coryo asks his classmate next to him, thankful now that you are apparently such a fast runner.

"I- I don't know. He wouldn't betray her like this." She replies with a slight shake of her head, eyes glued to the screen.

"She's fast enough, but she can't get back in the vents while she's being chased." Coryo says, as if either of them could do anything, but he was as helpless as you were.

You slide to a halt in the long, rounded hallway when you see Coral round the corner in front of you. Jessup was sick, he wasn't fast, but you couldn't turn back. You were cornered, and there was nowhere to go but up. You look up, scanning the overhead vent system for a grate but see none. Turning quickly, you look along the ceiling toward Jessup as he makes his way toward you with the broken water bottle. You'd rather try your odds with him than Coral and the others.

Your eyes land on a grate just ahead of you as you hear footsteps and shouting closing in on you from both directions. With shaking hands you scramble to untie the scarf as you run back toward Jessup, throwing it back over the pipe and using all your strength to pull yourself up into the ceiling, hitting in the grate and pulling yourself inside. "Jessup, Jessup! Run! Hurry!" You try and urge him, but it's like he doesn't hear you, jumping to jab at you with the bottle. He misses, luckily, but Coral never does.

Coryo watches with bated breath while you struggle to pull yourself up, abandoning your friend to his fate. He cringes as he watches Jessup fall, the inflicted wounds being just hidden by Tanner's form and the buzzer goes off.

"Oh, and that's the end for Jessup as his district partner climbs into the ceiling!" Lucky's voice sounds distant to him. "Lysistrata, get out of here and Coriolanus, you may want to start packing your things as well."

He wouldn't budge. He's not packing a single thing until you're done taking your final breaths. Lyssie sighs and shakes her head, tears in her eyes as she pats Coryo's shoulder. "If this is it for her, I'm so sorry..." She apologizes before taking her leave.

Your heart is beating out of your chest as you pull yourself almost fully into the vent. You don't make it smoothly, though, crying out in pain as you feel the prongs of Coral's trident plunging into your calf. Your blood drips down your leg and on top of the other tributes as you finally make your way all the way in. You don't have time to feel any pain as you quickly crawl away. They know where you are, she could stab up into the vent just below you and catch you again- you had to find a way up farther.

"Y/N! We know where you've been hiding now, you're not safe in there!" Coral calls after you, and you have to ignore it as you slide through the metal tube, feeling it get slick from the blood pooling underneath you with every movement.

You don't hear them following you, though, so when you finally make it to where you can climb up to the next level, you feel a lot safer. Your chest is heaving as you sit up on the edge of the drop-down to the tunnels, just given enough room in the T intersection of the vents to take a breath and look at your leg.

You hiss as you lift your leg, assessing the puncture wounds. They wouldn't be fatal if you stopped the bleeding. You exhale shakily, pressing down on the flesh with your palms, pain shooting up your leg and into your back. You don't have anything to use to help besides the scarf, but it was Coryo's. You don't want to ruin it.

You didn't have a choice. You grab the material that you had dragged along with you, wrapping it tightly around the skin. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry,.." You cry, knowing he can't see or hear you.

Coryo is already panicking. Just like Highbottom had said, you could be dead in there and he wouldn't know. The panic only escalates when the cameras follow Coral, Treech, Tanner, and Mizzen as they go back up to the main floor, and Treech and Tanner go for the two main vent entrances, all of them too focused on you to even notice or care that Reaper was sat in the same clearing.

You don't hear it for a few minutes. The bleeding in your leg had mostly stopped, soaking the silk material by the time you heard the familiar clang of shifting metal. Someone else was in the vents.

You look behind you, trying to discern which direction they were coming from, but it was nearly impossible to tell with the echo. You had to move, but you could be crawling right into your fate. Maybe you should just stay and wait and let it happen.

As the noises got closer from both sides, accompanied by coughing from the dust, you knew you couldn't just wait. You'd made it this far, and as far as you knew, no one else knew the vents nearly as well. That was an advantage you had sought from the very beginning, and now was the time to use it.

You gently lower yourself down to slide back the way you came, hitting the bottom level with a bang before ducking out of sight and around a corner. It couldn't have been Coral up there, she would be taunting you by now, but she wasn't. It was quiet until you heard whispers up from where you just were.

"There's blood on this side. She must have gone back down." You recognize Treech's voice when you hear it, and you hold your breath as you fiddle with the compact in your pocket. Stroking your thumb over the carved metal over and over again, trying to stay quiet. "Look, there's a trail going that way."

"Down we go, then." Tanner replies, making your heart stop. You couldn't fight them off, you knew that, and there was a trail of your own blood that would lead them straight to you. You couldn't hide.

You slowly pull the compact from your pocket, turning it over in your palm. You swore you wouldn't participate in the games. You wouldn't harm anyone. But maybe, if you 'accidentally' spilled its contents in the vent before you had to move on, they would stop following you.

Before you can think too much about it, you're holding your breath and opening the small clasp. It just looked like salt. Yeah. It's salt. You already believe it as you gently tip the container, making a thin line of the substance across the bottom of the vent. Salt is for protection. The salt will keep me safe.

You pocket the compact again and quietly crawl away.

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

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

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

#tbosas #tbosas fic #tbosas fanfiction #tbosas x reader #hunger games #thg #thg series #thg fanfiction #the hunger games #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo x reader #coryo snow #snow x reader #snow lands on top

[thebestofoneshots]

WOLFSTAR X READER SERIES

Gilded Constellations | THE INTERLUDE

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Summary: You meet Sirius and Regulus at a family vacation in the Caribbean, but things don't go as planned and you end up losing contact once the trip is over. Years later your family moves to England and you get accepted at Hogwarts where you finally meet Sirius once again, along with all of his friends. One of them with a mysterious secret, that you'll uncover as you embark on your own Hogwarts adventure. This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

Hey Lovelies, welcome to “The Interlude” of Gilded Constellations. We’ve basically already gotten to 100 k words in this story and that’s absolutely insane!!! Which is why I thought of doing a little thing where I could interact with my readers. As a thank you for being there and supporting me so much through this journey. 

And so… this little Q&A was born. Those who didn't get to ask their questions, don’t worry my darlings, my ask will be open all week for you to ask whatever you want. It’s a mini event that will last from today ‘till next wednesday. 

But yes, it does mean this week we won’t get a new chapter D: 

Don’t worry, it will definitely be worth it since the next couple of episodes are two that I’ve put absolute extra care on crafting, and I will put just as much care on revising. I’ve been quite literally posting non stop for 15 weeks consecutively. That’s almost 4 months, what?!?! 

I needed my tiny lil break, besides I wanted to dedicate this bit of time to work on my Maraudween Special smutty series that will include some interesting mini AUs, so those that read my other stuff and not just Gilded Constellations will be quite literally treated this Halloween. There will be a lot of posts these next few weeks. Although, I might be releasing some of the Maraudween stories at the beginning of November. Unfortunately, I’m not a machine and I can’t write in seconds like Chat GPT. 

Without further ado, let’s get on with those questions!

Where did you get the inspo for the fic?

Oh my god if I tell you guys about this… It all started when I was in class, sometimes when I’m bored, my little mind starts to wander. I’m a total daydreamer, I can’t deny that, but at that moment in particular I was quite literally thinking of nothing and everything at the same time. And then, out of nowhere, this phrase came to me: 

“You look at them the same way you looked at me when we met…” 

And I was like, “omg that’s so freaking angsty” and “That’s a great freaking line for a poly story” And I quite literally wrote it down with a little tag that said, “-the start of a poly relationship story because I’ve never read enough of those.” 

And then I closed the notebook and went back to class. But I guess the idea had already set in my brain because next thing I know, I’m writing down more things down. And let me tell you, before Gilded Constellations I only wrote Oneshots because a story seemed like too much commitment. So I kid you not, I wrote down: 

“Not a short story, but maybe a 3-5 chapter long fic”. 

Jokes on me though, we’re 15 chapters in, like 20-something written and we’re probably going to end up with longer than 200k words and I’m not even sorry about it. Besides, I'm really pumped to finish it because I want to get it printed in Lulu and have my own little copy as a “Damn you wrote that.” kind of evidence thing. So worry not about being left with an unfinished fic, I’m going to complete this story even if it’s the last thing I do. 

Besides, if I’m being honest, when I’m not writing, I miss my boys, so I’ll definitely miss passing the time with them when I’m done with GC. (Luckily I’ve already got another series planned and spoiler alert: This one will be Poly!Marauders x reader, a lot spicier aaaand, PIRATES.) 

That’s how the fic started, well that and a dream that was basically most of Chapter 3 and I thought it was so cute that I wrote it down and then I was like, “hold up, this could be the start of the Poly story I was talking about…” 

Are there any real-life experiences that influenced your writing?

Well I mean, I’d say that art imitates life and life imitates art, but in regards to real-life romance I don’t really know that much. But there are definitely some things here and there that have been sprinkled from my real life into the fic. Not sure if I could think of a particular one but I can say sometimes Remus gives me the same vibe that a boy I “used to” have a crush on. “Used to” in quotation marks because I kinda still do even if we haven’t seen each other in years. 

So I guess a lot of Remus comes from my crush, but also Remus is his own little boy as well and I love him more for it. Even If I’m torturing him so much with his heartache, I promise it will be worth it Remus, reader and Sirius will take care of you, eventually. 

Other than that, I guess I like to pay attention to things around me, you’ll see me looking at nature, the sky, the way leaves move, the way people interact with each other. Especially at that actually, I like to pay attention to people, how they move, how they interact, and their reactions. Sometimes I do it irl, and sometimes I just watch movies or series, and since my writing process is like seeing a movie in my head and then putting it into words, it’s always useful to pay attention to the world around me. Even if I sometimes struggle to put into words exactly what I’m seeing in my head.  

Did you already have everything planned, or did you just go with the flow? If you have already, how far? all of it? Or just some chapters ahead? 

Well, yes and no. I do have various key points of the story planned, a lot of plot points that are going to happen and that’s kinda what I’m sustaining myself on. I know the big points and then I just have to write what happens in between them. And I’ve got it planned all the way ‘till my babes all start dating. After that, if I’m honest I’m not sure how I’m going to end it. Some parts of me want to go for the saddest ending possible because it would go along with cannon and the other side of me, the one that can’t bear to see my boys being sad, wants to just deviate completely and/or leave an open ending. 

But so far, I really cannot tell what exactly I’m going to do, I just know that time will tell. Because sometimes the characters just do what they want and I love to see where they take me. Which is why the ending is not set in stone just yet. 

Without giving too many spoilers, can you tease upcoming plot twists or surprises we can expect in future chapters?

My sly little foxes have already guessed some of the major plot twists that are upcoming in the story. And there definitely will come some surprises along the way, some you will love, some you won’t so much. But I promise you it will all be worth it! 

Remember in Gilded Constellations, everything happens for a reason. 

THE FANCAST

What's your fancast for the fic? Did you pick the reader too or just leave it be? //  I wanted to know if you have a fancast for everyone…

I did mention that I basically see stuff as a movie in my head right? So yes, I do have a fancast! Although I most definitely see James as Aaron, Sirius as Ben, Remus as Andrew and Peter as Dane, I have also twisted them in my brain. Like it’s them, right? But my version of them. Like my Sirius is so fucking ethereal in my head that sometimes I myself blush with his beauty. And Remus, well, he is probably most similar to Talita Asami’s from instagram. Especially this one. 

There’s something about the way she contrasts his soft features with the scars that’s just perfect. It’s that sexy pirate vibe I cannot get out of my head, if that makes sense.  But also I’ve been toying with AI lately (Talkie) and ended up with these two versions of Remus and Sirius and they have absolutely taken over. 

Sidenote: I made way to many of these, so do tell me if you wanna see them.

The reader: Uhm… well, I kind of just see her as me, hehe. Which is kind of the point, you should all just see the reader as yourselves, if you’re comfortable with that of course. 

The rest of our babies though? Lily Evans, Marlene and Mary, are kind of like the boys as in I see them as their fancast but also not entirely. And Lily especially, she’s just so freaking pretty in my head, there’s no one I know to match her, all thought Sophie Skelton and Kennedy Walsh (@/c4tluvr666 on Tiktok) are super close. 

Now, outside of canon characters, aka all of these OC’s I’ve been creating with time, some of them do have a fancast and some of them don’t. Let’s focus on the ones that do, because some of them I literally had in my head since the very, very beginning of the fic. 

Tom Harrow- This boy actually started as a younger version of Tom Hiddleston in my head, but the more I wrote him, the more he said, “Luv, that’s not what I look like!” And, almost out of nowhere, baby Tom Hiddleston became Rober Sheehan, and let me tell you, it stuck. And it stuck so bad there is no way I could see Tom as anything other than Rob. Especially with his role as Klaus in Umbrella Academy having a rather similar personality in the entire open-minded spectrum that he’s got going on. And, talking about teasers, this boy is actually going to be a key point on the romance between our golden throuple to develop, so keep an eye out for him. I love him so much tbh.  

Then we’ve got Beth Doxon, this girl is my wifey, I freaking love Beth so much and if you’ve been paying attention you may already know who I based her off, at least in looks. It’s Anya Taylor Joy as Beth Harmon in Queen’s Gambit, redhead queen (can you tell I really, really like redheads?) . Also that’s why she has such a strong character, even if my Beth is a lot more of a Party Animal than the original character. 

Alexander Wood in my head is just a carbon copy of his son Oliver, but in Hufflepuff, and the rest of the Quidditch teams, I’ve got a good idea of what they look like in my head, but not really a fan cast for them. Suggestions accepted. 

Well, except for Minho Yun, since his role in the story is going to be as a pretty strong supporting character, in fact, he was meant to be somewhat of an alt love interest that was going to help build Sirius’ jealousy, but in the end, I decided to completely scrap that to further develop him as a character. Some interesting things that you’ll actually learn on the GC Halloween special. Oh, and Minho is actually based on Sang Heon Lee (on looks) and Ki Hong Lee (on character, specifically on his role in Maze Runner). Had I based Minho on the character of Sang Heon Lee who inspired him, we would have way too many slutty boys in the same room, with Tom and Sirius and him, It’d be chaos, which is why he ended up being a little shier. 

Nox, Neil and Todd, literally are just Nox, Neil and Tod from De*d Poets Society. I was rewatching the movie to nail that boy friend group interactions and to get in the Dark Academia Vibes and I wanted to give my boys a happy ending. 

Also Neil just gives me the most massive Prongs vibe I cannot.

And lastly, there’s Nina Blythe. Nina to me is a totally angelic girl, I’ve got a very vivid picture of what she looks like in my head but I don’t really have a fancast for her. Maybe a little bit like Aurora (the singer), in regards to her soft features, but Nina has longer hair and it’s a little wavy. I kind of think of her as a girl from a Renaissance painting, emphasis on girl, since she is supposed to look younger than she is. Any ideas for a fancast? For her and for anyone I missed, I’m completely open to your suggestions. 

THE TEACHERS

Professor Nightshade is definitely Eva Green from Miss Peregrine or Jessica Chastain from Crimson Peak. She’s got that tall,  regal and dark but elegant vibe to her that is just so freaking gorgeous and awe-inspiring. I totally have a crush on Seraphina, can you tell? 

Professor Aurelius Spellman is kind of inspired by Kingsley Shackelbolt. However, if I had to cast someone for the role it would be Djimon Hounsou, he has that attractive and rough vibe to him. Like scary, demanding but also alluring things going on, he’s just got the magician type I suppose. 

This one’s going to be silly, but I can’t imagine Kettleburn as anyone other than Gobber the Belch from HTTYD, like, take away the horned helmet and give him a pointy hat, and boom, Kettleburn ladies and gentlemen. Down to the messy personality, honestly. 

And Donovan Pendragon (the teacher for Magical Theory) I feel like he isn’t mentioned enough, because I literally had no idea what his name was even going to be and I just left a line for it until I was editing the chapter before posting. So he doesn’t really have a cast. He’s caucasian in my head, but that’s about all I’ve got from him. Any ideas? 

Do you have any headcanons for any of the characters and their relationship that you haven’t talked about in the story? 

REMUS: Well I feel like this one has been talked about several times in the story but Remus being a beast in bed? I feel like everyone loves to tease him about it in the castle but to me, he’s also a total soft boy? Like especially the first time, I feel like he’s going to be so overwhelmed by both Sirius and Reader that he will basically just melt in the hands of his lovers. 

SIRIUS: Smitten little puppy of my life. 

SIRIUS AND REMUS: They’ve totally kissed in the past. At least once, and Remus still dreams about it. Sirius, well… maybe he’ll get some memories of it every now and then.

READER: My girl thinks she’s so freaking smart and yet is the most oblivious to her own feelings; she could be considered an idiot. She’s also so selfless it hurts, but like literally. Also, she loves flirting with Sirius way too much. Still, they definitely will need Rem in their relationship because there is no self-preservation sense when her personality is just as chaotic as our Puppy. Side note: Remus will 100% blush when she starts flirting with him in the same way he does with Sirius. And let’s not talk about what a tomato he will be when Sirius does it as well. 

PETER: He kinda disliked the reader at first, especially since he felt like she was taking away his friends, but eventually he warmed up to her, and loves their friendship. 

LILY: She enjoyed the kiss with Reader, and it made her realize she’s totally bi, because she also enjoyed the kiss with James. 

TOM: My boy is clever as hell and he knows a lot more than he lets on. Also, he secretly ships the golden throuple. 

BETH: She’s Tom’s bestie and she knows a lot of things too. She will also ignite chaos with the ultimate goal of being Gryffindor Tower’s own cupid. Do you think what happened at Marlene’s Party was a coincidence? 

REGG: My beautiful Reggie is still sad about the incident. He’s still trying to find a way to reconnect with you and it pains him that you think he’d rat you out. Even then, he values the fact that you are with Sirius and that you’re helping him through everything that’s been going on, especially since he saw how red Sirius’s eyes were when he left the Black’s house with a trunk in hand sobs stuck in his throat. Reg cried like a baby that night, just wishing for time to go by as fast as possible so he could go back to school and see his big brother again. (I’m so sorry for that guys).

MINHO: Has a secret crush and you would not believe me if I told you who it was. 

NINA: Has a secret crush and some of you have probably already guessed who it is. 

DAMOCLES: You don’t know him yet but omg he’s just so clever, thank you Kles for existing.

And let's be honest, I totally have a bunch more of this but I think this is way more than enough, for now…

Out of all the chapters so far, what’s been your favorite?

This is too fucking hard to decide. But If I had to choose my top three, and in no order in particular, I’d say, for the released ones:  

Fooled around and Fell in Love

Because, can we talk about the kiss scene? I feel like this one will come back bite my kiddos in the back so they finally realize what they actually fucking need. 

Do Ya 

I’m a total sucker for Sirius, what can I tell ya? But also the flying scenes were so much fun to write, totally an adventure to go through, still among my favs. 

Maybe I’m amazed 

“Do you like Golf?” 

From the unreleased episodes: 

Tonight’s What It Means To Be Young

The calm before the storm. Or is it the storm before the storm? 

Bad Moon Rising 

The FUCKING storm. But also one of my favorite things I’ve ever written. I think I like action scenes a little too much.

*** On The Run

The storm continues. But also, the calm after the storm.

Do you have a playlist that you always listen to when you're writing? 

Not a specific playlist, but I have been listening to a lot of ‘70s rock. Things like Queen, Bowie, Boston, Foreigner,  Kansas, Fleetwood Mac, Nazareth, The Police and some others. All of them help me get in the mood for writing. At least in the mood of the era, if that makes sense.

Aside from the ’70s classics, I’ve also been listening to a lot of Lord Huron, Hozier, and Aurora (I sort of discovered her recently and I’m obsessed with some of her songs). Also some of The Killers, Dotan and Vian Izak sprinkled here and there. Bastille and Imagine Dragons are always and forever so of course they wouldn’t be missing from my list. 

But when I’m struggling, like really struggling with writing, then I go to this Best Instrumental playlist, where they have everything from the Narnia and Peter Pan 2003 soundtracks to Vivaldi and Ghibli.  It really does help with the concentration. 

How long for the guys to understand that they fancy each other? 

Well, when you say the guys do you mean Sirius and Remus? ‘Cause then it’s not thaaaaaat far away from now. Now from then to them all dating, well…

I know Remus kind of struggles with feelings, and probably even more now that Sirius and the reader are together. But when he's gonna say "hey, can I come in?" 😏 lol I just want them together so baaaad!

Ahahahahahaha, Well that’s not exactly how it’s gonna go, but it’ll happen sometime after Christmas.

After wolfstar and the reader get together, the fic will end? or we're gonna have a lot of them together to compensate for the agony? 🥺

I’m not sure about the ending yet, but I’m definitely going to add so much fluff of the three of them together that you’re all gonna get cavities. Also, I’ve been writing The 5 Senses and the Halloween special (that might be finished until after Halloween) to practice for the spice, so I’m def compensating for the agony. 

Also, I kind of want to explore the social implications of being in a throuple, of making that public in the `70s. Seems like a whole lotta issue bringer that kinda interests me… Sorry, you’re not completely getting rid of the angst even when they’re all together. 

I don’t remember if I already asked you about this, but as a Regulus’ wife, I need to know. He'll come back, right? She will talk with him and he will be able to explain everything to her? I need this, I really need this! I can leave without this closing. THEY NEED TO BE FRIENDS AGAIN!

Your husband is safe with me. I promise. I’m not gonna say it’s gonna be very soon, but he will be safe because I love baby Reggie and I too can’t stand him being mistreated either. 

Not a question. I just want to say that I really love this story. It's one of my favorites, and I just put it on my masterlist for how much I love it.

Aww shut up, I love you so much <3

Will we have some Sirius jealousy? ‘Cause I'm really interested in that. Oooh... will he notice that Reader and Remus are... more than friends before they even know it? I dunno, he's just oblivious about everything around him. 

Funny that you ask, yes we will have a lot of Jealous!Sirius, in fact, it’s a huge part of how the throuple will develop. And you will have it so soon, even if it’s not exactly what you expect it to be. I can’t wait for next week!

And in regards to noticing, well… Sirius is not going to be the most oblivious about his own feelings in this story. I mean… not always.

Are there any particular scenes or moments in your story that were especially fun or challenging to write?

Well, I’m actually finding it a lot harder to write stuff atm, so I’d say the limbo between the Bad Moon Rising Arch and the next big thing that’s going to happen has been the hardest. Especially since I’m already going to get to a key point in which some shit is going to go down and I’m still not sure how bad and angsty I want to make it. Don’t worry, our golden throuple will be alright but…

In regards to fun, I must say the parties are some of my favorites, Potion Pong was incredibly fun to write ‘cause I literally transported myself to it and it was like actually living it, even if it was in my head. Also the flying scenes, they’re always fun to write, the race was incredible tbh. 

I love to write the fun banter and the teasing too, it brings me joy. But I bet you could tell I’m one for the teasing from the very first chapters of Gilded Constellations. 

Nina fancies Reader, right? She does. I just need a yes. I already know that 😌 

( ≖‿  ≖ )

Can you share any behind-the-scenes trivia or Easter eggs that readers might not have noticed in your story?

I feel like there’s a lot of behind-scenes I shared so far but I guess I could share a few pics of my organization systems. Things like…

Your schedule: 

The cover:

Some of you have already been theorizing about it too, you can look at some of those theories over here, and here, and also here.

Alt Covers I designed but weren't chosen:

Something you might not know:

GC is also available on Wattpad and AO3. The AO3 chapters usually drop like 30 minutes or an hour before Tumblr because it's easier to post there. And the Wattpad releases are actually way behind in comparison (there isn't much engagement over there).

Some Shots of my Plot notebook (0 spoilers): 

And also, have you noticed the special little thing in the names of the chapters? 10 housepoints to whoever notices

I just thought of this, but what if we make a little housepont system and from things that you guys guess of the story you get housepoints and then we have a houseprice in the end? OMG I'd love to do this, if you're on tell me your house in the comments. So far Sytherin would have like 40 points just beacuse of dear @cometsghost and I'm not sure what is @blacksgarden house but they would also have like 40 pts.

How do you stay motivated and inspired to keep writing, especially in moments when you might experience writer's block?

It may or may not be healthy, but I just force myself to type? I never really have writer’s block, rather I’d call it writer’s overload. It’s when I’m running through so many possibilities in my head and I can’t pick which is the one I want to go through with. So I keep thinking about it and I don’t type. Which is why I just force myself to type, more often than not I’ll end up writing something I really like. 

And as for the motivation, honestly just getting to see my boys again. To be able to submerge back into Hogwarts, that’s enough motivation. I seriously get an urge to go back because I miss them. It's kinda crazy. Like I might be chilling at home and suddenly the thought “I wish I was at Hogwarts” crosses my mind, not even joking. 

The other motivation is finishing my book so I can get a printed version to place in my bookshelf and show it off. Not that anyone would know what it is, but I’d know, which is enough, hehe. And also to be a better writer, they say you should write every single day, which is kind of what I’m attempting to do with GC. By writing a chapter every week, I literally force myself to write every single day, even if just a couple of words. 

Can we have cute moments with Remus? uuuh, Will he be cute when she notices that she really likes him?

Yes! We can have all the cute moments with Remus. Even before they all notice they’re into each other, we’re gonna have so many cute moments because even if Reader is dating Sirius I can’t leave my beautiful boy on the sidelines. Besides, how can I torture him if he doesn’t get a taste of how good it would be to be with them? 

What can readers look forward to in the next chapters, and do you have any long-term plans or goals for GCs development?

Angst. Don’t hate me for this. But also comfort, and some fun little adventures and then a bit more angst, hehe…

Well, that’s the end of the questions I got sent ahead. Hope you enjoyed this rollercoaster of a Q&A. If you have any more, or if my answers have provoked further questions, then by all means, share them with me, I’d love to be able to interact with you a bit more. 

Love ya, Lily xx

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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