#and i really liked the atmosphere in this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rosylix · 1 day

Text

rosy

더 깊이 빠져들겠지 더 조금씩 더 조금씩 넌...

you don't know how to give a hickey.. what are friends for if not to help each other with these things?

pairing: bff!felix × gn!reader

content: nonidol au, fluff, not rly smut but suggestive (mdni pls), shy/inexperienced reader, hickeys (duh), reader is like slightly germophobic idk, a lot of teasing, no use of y/n

a/n: i am so delusional i need to bite this mans neck badly. and yes this is my username. yes it's the loona song. lol

[also read on ao3]

—

God, you should have just kept your mouth shut.

“You don't know how to give a hickey?”

You shake your head and cover your face, hiding from Felix, who's sitting next to you on his bed.

“Wait, really? Like you've never even tried it on yourself?” he asks.

“No?! What, people actually do that?” Your hands lower slightly to reveal your eyes widening.

He breathes out a laugh and you hit his arm. “It's not funny!”

“It's kind of funny.”

“Shut up. I just— like— I never… whatever.” He poorly conceals a teasing smile. “Shut up or you're literally not getting any cinnamon rolls tomorrow. In fact, lemme ask Hannie if he wants your extras.” You pull out your phone.

Before you can do anything, Felix swiftly moves closer to you, his hand pushing yours down. “Whoa, whoa, hey.. that's a little drastic, yeah? Have I ever told you how much I love and appreciate you? ..And your cinnamon rolls?” He smiles sweetly, batting his eyelashes at you.

You grumble but drop the phone and shake his hand away, pursing your lips to fight a smile. The two of you fall into a comfortable silence.

…And then Felix ruins it.

“But you've kissed people before, right?”

You look at him incredulously. “Did I not say to shut up??” you shriek.

“Is that a no?” He giggles. He fucking giggles. You want to punch his pretty face.

“Lee Felix Yongbok I will smite you down right here where you stand if you don't—”

He puts his hands up in surrender. “Okay wait, sorry, I didn't mean it like that! I just mean, it's kind of like the same thing, you know?”

“The same as what? Giving a h-hickey?” You can't help but stutter a little.

“Yeah like it's… I'll show you.”

Felix suddenly moves so he's in front of you and gently grabs your arm. He'll show you?! Literally what. What the hell. You let out a small squeak and instinctively lean away from him.

“Relax, I just meant here,” he touches your arm. “Is that okay?”

You stare at him.

“...Or I could show it on myself but I thought it might be better to feel it? Or I don't have to do it at all of course,” he says quickly.

Oh. It takes a second but the gears in your head start slowly turning enough to respond.

“Oh.” Well, okay, that wasn't as much of a response as you meant to give.

Felix laughs softly and pulls his hand away from your arm. “Sorry, it's too weird, right? No worries.”

But wait, you're actually curious. And isn't it better to figure it out before you inevitably make a fool out of yourself in front of someone else? It makes you a bit nervous but… you're comfortable with Felix. “No, wait, you can uh... show me…?”

His eyebrows raise for a second but then he smiles. “You sure?”

You nod. You still feel a little dazed and you're not really cognizant enough to actually do anything but watch him as he moves closer again. Your arm must feel like a dead weight but he lifts it up and lowers his head, placing a chaste kiss on your inner wrist. “This okay? Usually you um... start with kissing.”

“O-Oh, okay, yeah..” you murmur. What is this sudden weird atmosphere? Maybe you're the only one feeling it. Felix doesn't seem too phased, but you can feel your heart pounding in your chest. Shit, can he feel your pulse right now? You really hope not.

He flashes a shy smile and places another kiss there, and another a little higher, and another, and it feels way too intimate and sends shivers up your spine. Slowly, he moves up your forearm, stopping right before your elbow.

“So… then.. you just wanna like... suck,” he says before doing just that, right below the crook of your elbow.

Oh. It feels weird. You must have made a noise or something because he looks up at you through dark lashes, a smile playing on the corners of his lips. You swallow. What the actual hell is happening right now?

After holding excruciating eye contact for what feels like an eternity, he lets his eyes close. Thank god, because it was making your chest feel tight and weird. You continue to stare as he continues kissing and sucking at your arm, face absolutely burning at the strange sensation.

You've literally lost the freaking plot. You just sit there, no semblance of time passing. After about twenty seconds? Twenty minutes? It literally could have been either — he finally pulls away, with a final kiss and light drag of his teeth against your skin.

You hold your breath as he sits up and gently maneuvers your arm so you could see the fruits of his labor. He clears his throat. “Um, so… it's starting to show up. See?” he says a little breathlessly.

You nod, unsure what to say when your best friend literally just sucked a hickey onto your arm. A very platonic hickey. Okay. This is fine. This is totally normal right? It must be or he wouldn't have offered. ..Right? You stare down at the bruise starting to blossom on your arm and finally chance a glance at Felix, but he also has his head down, staring at your arm.

Suddenly as if on cue, his head jerks up. When he sees you looking at him he grins. “Cool, right? How does it feel?”

“Weird…” you mumble. How can he be so nonchalant about this? You want to strangle him.

He nods. “It might be a little sensitive for a bit.” He runs his fingers lightly over the reddening area and you immediately see what he means. It feels tender and tingly under his touch. You shiver. “So.. you think you get how to do it now?” he asks.

“Um… yeah, I mean, maybe?”

“Do you wanna try?”

“Try? What, on… on your arm?!”

A slight blush creeps up his face and he shrugs. “Sure, or wherever… my arm, or my neck since that's where it's usually…”

You feel your face heat up as well. “I…”

“I just thought, if you wanna like, practice? But of course you don't have to.” He looks away and shrugs again, seeming a little embarrassed for suggesting it.

You open and close your mouth over and over again like a fish. Like a stupid dumb fish who somehow got itself reeled into this crazy situation. But honestly, the more you think about it, the offer to practice is tempting. When would you get another opportunity like this? Probably never. And… you trust Felix more than anyone else.

“...Is it really okay?” you ask hesitantly.

Felix looks up, blinking a few times before smiling. “Of course. I mean, it's only fair since I did it on you,” he laughs softly. He seems happy but also a little surprised that you actually appeared to be agreeing to his offer. Honestly, you're surprised too.

“Right, um…” you mumble. You shuffle a little closer to him. His hand slides down from your elbow to your hand, rubbing gentle circles on the back of it with his thumb. To reassure you, you think. It's a sweet gesture.

You lean in slightly towards his neck, deciding that if you do it here, you can hide your face from him and avoid any eye contact. “Um, can I...? Where should I…?”

You're so close to him. You can hear his breath catch a little before he points to the side of his neck with his free hand. “Around here,” he says, his voice somehow getting impossibly lower.

You swallow, the reality of the situation suddenly sinking in. As you lean in further you bite your lip, anxious. You need to break this tension somehow. You just can't do this right now. “Um.. um… do you wash your neck?” you blurt out.

Felix leans back a little. “Do I... do I wash my neck? That's what you're worried about?” he laughs.

“Some people probably don't!” you exclaim. Then you sigh. “Ugh, s-sorry, that's stupid, right? You literally licked my arm,” you let out a nervous laugh. “I just— I don't know. It feels icky. Germs.”

He hums. “You're not stupid.” A pause. “But, I can proudly say I do wash my neck.” He presses his lips together, clearly suppressing another laugh and you just know he's about to tease you. “Wow, how do you even kiss people if you're this worried about germs?”

“Shut up,” you grumble, leaning back into his neck a little to hide your face, your breath hot on his neck. He inhales sharply and seems surprised and, you think, a little panicked?

You instantly pull away. “Felix, are you sure?” You chew on your lip. Is this a bad idea after all?

“Yeah, I-I... yeah, of course,” he says, a little breathless, but you're not entirely convinced. You start to move away fully but he quickly grabs your arm again. “No.. no, wait. Please,” he whispers. You see him visibly try to relax, taking a deep breath in and out. “It's okay. I promise. I was just caught off guard.”

“Sorry,” you whisper.

“No, no, you're good, you're fine. It was me.” Felix clears his throat and rubs your arm reassuringly.

You take a deep breath. “Okay… so.. here?” You lean back in to where you were previously, breath hitting his neck.

He swallows, and you see it because his Adam's apple bobs up and down right in front of your face. What the fuck. “Yeah. Just go slow and… you can start with kissing if you want. Don't overthink it,” he mumbles, sounding more like he's reminding himself of something.

You nod and slowly, so slowly, you lean in the rest of the way and press your lips to his neck.

You expected him to remain still but a small breathy noise escapes him and he leans his head further back, exposing more of his neck in the process. You swear you can feel his pulse thrumming under your lips. “Good... um.. yeah, just... kiss a little bit and then suck. You can use your tongue, too,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, but you can feel the vibrations against your lips when he speaks. What the fuck.

Your head feels fuzzy. You hesitantly place a kiss on his neck, and then another a little higher, and another, until you reach an area you're satisfied with. You almost want to pull away but remember Felix's words. Right. Just try not to overthink it…

He pulls a breath in through his teeth when you press an open-mouthed kiss and start sucking gently. At the same time, your tongue darts out almost automatically and touches his skin.

You feel him swallow thickly. “Y-You gotta… harder…” he murmurs. “Or it won't mark.”

You hesitate. “Won't it hurt?”

He blinks hard and shakes his head slightly. “Don't worry… I-I'll tell you if it hurts, okay? Just try. Do it like I did.”

You nod and take a deep breath before trying again, this time in earnest, sucking harder and pulling his skin between your lips and even past your teeth.

“Yeah,” he breathes out, his grip on your arm tightening, “Like... like that. And you can.. use your teeth a little too.” His voice is getting thick, low, and raspy and, god, you feel a little dizzy.

But you want to please him, so you bite down softly and let your teeth run over the area. A quiet, high-pitched whine escapes his lips, and his hand shoots up to cover his mouth, body jerking back slightly. He suddenly seems to realize the noise he made and looks at you, wide-eyed.

You pull back again, a little breathless. “D-Did it hurt?” You really didn't think you bit that hard, but you can't hide the worry in your voice.

His hand drops from his mouth, face flushed and breathing labored. His eyes look a little dialed out. “No... no, it didn't.. hurt.” It seems like it takes all his strength just to say that. “Sorry, I just...” he takes a few more seconds to gather himself, “Um, kinda sensitive…”

…Sensitive? Oh. Oh. It was good. He liked it. You almost sigh in relief. But then… wait. He's sensitive there. He… Your brain isn't working. You find yourself leaning back in to his neck without thinking.

Felix doesn’t protest, just sits back, exposing more of his neck to you. You feel his body shudder when you lightly drag your teeth over the area before attaching your mouth more firmly and sucking at his skin.

He can’t stop the whimper from leaving his throat. “That feels really good.. you’re doing good,” he pants.

Your heart swells from the praise and you double down on your efforts. You hear him try to suppress another whimper but it’s more strained this time. It happens again and again, little noises and whines that you're not sure if he's even aware he's making. Every noise pulls and tugs at something in your stomach.

It feels intimate, so insanely intimate and you think you might combust on the spot if you go any longer. It's a bit nerve-wracking to pull away and face Felix but you force yourself to, licking your lips as you retreat.

Your eyes immediately widen at the sight in front of you. A pretty, deep pink bruise begins to blossom on his neck and your heart skips a beat at the realization that you did that to him.

Felix hasn't said anything. Is he upset? You chance a glance at his face and—

Oh. His eyes are closed and a faint sheen of sweat coats his flushed face, which is pulled taught in a mixture of bliss and something like pain. His chest is heaving, breath coming out in quick gasps. You stare at him, the only thought in your mind being: God, he's gorgeous like this.

He blinks rapidly and seems to finally come to. When he finally refocuses his gaze on you, he lets out a shaky exhale that turns into a weak laugh.

“...Good?” he asks.

Good? Good? Your head is spinning. It's not good. Nothing is good. Life is meaningless and everything you know exists on a floating rock spinning in the void and you think you're gonna pass out and never wake up. It's not good. It's fucking crazy. But you just mumble, “It's… showing up, I think…”

He raises an eyebrow. “That right? Let me see then.”

Felix grabs his phone and pulls up the camera, angling it so he has a clear view of his neck. He lets out a soft whistle, bringing his hand up to feel where the hickey is. You watch dumbly as he presses his fingers on it and lets out a shaky sigh. Then he looks at you and grins before throwing you a thumbs-up. “You did great. It's already pretty dark.”

You actually want to kill him. Your brain is melting and he's acting like this is the most normal afternoon of his life. Maybe it is. Does Felix do this type of thing often? The thought makes you shiver.

You throw your hands over your face. “I-I didn't mean for it to be that—like—ugh…”

His smile softens. “Hey, hey, you don't have to be embarrassed. It's…” he searches your face for a second and suddenly reaches over to gently pull your hands away. “It's not that bad. You did really good. Besides, it’s my neck, yeah?” His tone shifts to more of a teasing one, like he’s amused you’re overreacting a little. It just serves to frustrate you more.

You sigh. “Um… I really—it's really okay..?”

He nods. “Yeah, of course it is. It’s just a little mark, nothing serious.” He looks at you thoughtfully for a bit and you feel yourself getting flushed under his gaze. “You know.. you can try it again. If you want. Just to practice. Or for science, or whatever.” He laughs.

What. You’re stunned into silence. Science? You stare at him incredulously and he just grins back before leaning even further forward. This can't be your Felix. This is actually crazy.

Felix smiles at your dumbfounded expression. “…Come on.” He brings a hand up to your face and pokes at your cheek softly. “Do it again. Try a different spot. Make it darker.”

He's obviously teasing you. So you're flabbergasted when what comes out of your mouth is, “W-Where..?” Where? Literally what are you saying. Like, where is the nearest exit? Where has your own sanity gone? That's what you should be asking.

He shrugs. “Anywhere. The other side?” He points to the unmarked side of his neck. Then he pushes his shirt down slightly, revealing a sliver of his shoulder and collarbone before looking back at you, eyes expectant with a bit of an impish gleam. “Maybe.. here?” he mumbles.

Your head spins. Oh yeah, you're definitely gonna pass out. It's so over. Life and death and the universe… fucking craziness. You're falling. You're dying. Everything is melting. Nothing's real.

Oh wait, you're actually falling, your head plopping down on his shoulder as you let out an embarrassed groan.

You hear him laughing softly. “Someone's eager—”

You’re a bit confused but then your eyes focus on the place your head is now laying and—Oh god, you’re right where his shoulder and neck meet. Right where he just told you to suck a hickey. Great.

You instantly lift your head up, face burning. “No, I didn't—I wasn't trying to—”

He brushes the hair out of your face. “Hey, it's okay, I'm not forcing you or anything. Are you overwhelmed?”

“Um, yeah, but— y-yeah. Sorry.” God. How pathetic do you look right now?

“Don't apologize. I was just teasing. It makes sense to be overwhelmed. It's a new experience.” He sits back and laughs but there’s a bit of a nervous waver to it. “You're fine, seriously. Maybe we got a little carried away, huh?”

“Uhh— yeah….”

He gives you an apologetic look. “I'm sorry for being pushy. Let's just... just forget about the whole thing, yeah? Let's play some video games or something.” He clears his throat.

He's moving on but your head is still spinning. This really is the most normal afternoon for him, you think. Because how is he so chill? Your body is still buzzing with nervous energy and you can't just switch off and forget about it, can you?

You can't. “Uh— Uh, wait—...”

“...Yeah?”

You drop your head back down onto his shoulder. “Um… is it bad if I… kinda…”

You trail off and he doesn’t respond for a few seconds. You don’t dare move, waiting for something, anything. When he finally does say something his voice sounds strained. “Kinda what?” he asks quietly.

“Um.” Fuck. “Nevermind.” You go to draw back but Felix quickly places a hand at the back of your head, preventing any movement.

You hear him exhale quietly. “I don't mind, you know,” he whispers. “You can do it. If you... if you want to.” He slowly starts running his fingers through your hair. “If you wanna practice. The more you practice, the more comfortable you'll be with it, right?”

You hum against his shoulder, the justification mulling around in your head. Of course. Of course that's why you want to. For practice. For science.

He continues. “Yeah, do it. Uh, j-just, I mean— if you want. A-As practice. Try to… see how dark you can make it… or… ” For all the talk he was making before, he stutters now, and you can't help but find it a little endearing. Maybe he's actually a little nervous as well.

Fuck it. Who cares. You've lost the plot. You press your mouth against his skin, giving a few open-mouthed kisses before gently sucking at it.

You hear his breathing stutter and he shifts slightly. “Yeah, j-just…” he lets out a shaky sigh and presses his hand a bit more firmly on the back of your head, bringing you closer to him. The angle is still a bit awkward to reach, so without much thinking, you crawl slightly onto his lap.

“Oh,” he mumbles, his body goes tense for a second before relaxing again. He's completely still, like if he moves you’ll pull away, but eventually his fingers start running through your hair again. It isn't a particularly suggestive position, you're sitting back more towards his knees, but suddenly everything feels charged with tension.

You hear a low, almost imperceptible groan as you continue sucking lightly from the new angle. “You're doing really well,” he mutters encouragingly. “Just a little more… harder. And like, bite a little, remember?”

Right. You comply and bite down a little. Felix lets out a small whine, hand tightening in your hair. “Good… uh, just like that..” he mumbles. “You can try moving a little more, if you want—”

You don't need to hear more, instantly moving your mouth higher up his neck without much thought. His fingers slide down until his hands are completely resting between your shoulder blades, pressing you closer. Shivers run down your spine where he touches and you attach your lips to the side of his Adam's apple.

“A-Ah…” a shaky moan escapes him, taking both of you by surprise. His hands suddenly jump down to grip your waist tightly. Oh. He seems much more sensitive here. You swear you're dizzy. Maybe you're dying. You think you’re fine with that honestly.

You want to bite him. You let your teeth sink into the skin a little. He lets out a shaky half-laugh, half-groan, tilting his head back and pulling you towards him. “Y-You learn quickly.” A deep pink flush runs high on his cheeks, and his breaths are unsteady. You’ve never seen him like this, so undone, and it's making you feel powerful. You want more.

You decide to give in to that and bite down harder, feeling his body jerk. He moans, breathy, and whispers, “Oh. Yeah. Yeah, that feels so good.” One of his hands moves to the back of your neck, fingers gently grasping the base of your hair. His thumb brushes up against your earlobe and for some reason it sets tingles off all down your spine.

…Does it really feel that good? You can't help but wonder. It mostly just felt weird on your arm but you suppose that's different. Different from your. Neck. Oh fuck, now you're thinking about it. His mouth on your neck. His mouth on your neck. You're floating. You're crashing. Everything is cool. Everything is burning.

Your brain is practically short-circuiting and you start sucking on the same spot before pulling back just enough to bite down and suck at it again, this time a little harder.

His breath stutters and you feel his head tilt to give you more access. There's another small gasp that comes out as a strained “Fuuuck…” when you continue. You think you're actually delirious at this point.

Then, “W-wait..” he says urgently, his chest heaving. His hand that was on your neck slides down to grab your shoulder now.

“That's… good. We should.. stop. I…” he pants heavily.

You pull away instantly. “O-Okay. Yeah. Sorry.” You feel restless, fidgety, more than just from nerves.

“No, you're fine, god. It's me. I'm getting too…” he shakes his head. “You did really good, I…” He presses his hands against his eyes and takes a few deep, slow breaths.

When he drops his hands he seems mostly back to normal. “Um.” He laughs a little. “We, uh… how's it look?”

You stare at his neck and shoulder. Oh, fuck. In truth, it looks fucking insane. Like he got mauled or something. Oh my god. That was you. What came over you?

He raises an eyebrow at your silence. “Guess I gotta see for myself,” he says and places his hands on your waist to lift you up and off of his lap. As if you weigh literally nothing. What the fuck.

With your head still reeling at how he lifted you like you're nothing, you don't really notice him reaching for his phone to see himself until you hear him suck in a breath.

“Wow… I'm gonna get so many comments tomorrow.”

“What?!” you shriek. Oh god. Of course it'll take a few days to fade. You hadn't even thought about that. The light mark on your arm is easy to brush off as nothing but the rosy hues on his neck are unmistakable.

He laughs. “I'm just kidding. I'll have to.. cover it with makeup I guess. Don't worry.”

“You better…” you mumble, embarrassed.

He hums. “Hmm… Well it isn't really fair... What should I do…” He leans in, studying your flushed face. “Wanna match?” he says with a cheeky grin.

“What?? Felix!”

“I'm joking! Jeez…” He pokes your cheek. “Unless all this blushing isn't just from embarrassment and you're actually into this?”

Your face is positively burning. “Shut up. You're annoying as hell,” you grumble.

He gasps dramatically. “After I gave up my sanctity for you to practice on me? This is how you treat me?”

You can't help but giggle at his dramatics but you quickly steel your expression and glare at him equally as dramatically.

You're really grateful everything seems to be normal on his end. You're trying your best to act the same, but in truth, you feel like a fucking mess. His joking comment about you being into this… No, definitely not. There's no way. It's probably just because it's your first time doing this with anyone, so of course it's going to feel crazy and weird and confusing. Right? Yeah. But still. Even long after the two of you move on, playing video games and hanging out like normal, you can't shake the feeling that something's weird. Something shifted. You don't know what the fuck it is though. You just try not to think about it.

How are you actually supposed to go back to normal after this?

—

a/n: so on a scale of 1 to 10 how painfully obvious is it that i've never given a hickey in my life.

no but um haha any feedback good or bad would be super appreciated!! pls leave a like or reblog if u enjoyed it makes me so happy. tysm for reading <3

425 notes · View notes

likedovesinthewindd · 24 hours

Note

Ex bf art donaldson seeing reader for the first time in a decade and forgetting the meaning of personal space. That man would not take his baby dear eyes and manly hands of you until you fall for his submissive aura.

I'm actually going crazy wtff I'm obsessed!!!

He's the last person you had expected to see in a place like this, but you'd suppose you would've never imagined yourself in a place like this either. Loneliness drove people to strange places, it seemed.

He looked good. He still looked good. He's visually grown and matured, no longer the coy college boy but a refined man, yet he still looked boyish when he smiled or laughed. It warmed you to see he hadn't lost that light behind his eyes after all these years – life could be cruel, after all. You had half a mind to ask him how Tashi was doing, but the slight tan line on his finger being the only indicator of said marriage told you to leave the subject unscathed for now.

You didn't say anything when he chose to move in next to you in the booth instead of across, or when he insisted on buying you a drink, or when he looked at you as if you had been the answer to an unheard prayer. You didn't say anything because you, in return, had relished in the feeling of being seen, desired after so long.

He talked about how he's retired now, about how much happier he's been since he put the racket down and about his daughter, and you listened dutifully, watching his eyes lit up in that same boyish way when he talked about about Lily.

In return, he asked you about your life and what you've doing, all while his thumb rubbed over the top of the hand grasped in his. "We probably look like some happy couple to other people right now," you had commented, looking down at your hand clasped in his but making no move to pull it away. He had laughed, thumb still across your skin, and replied with a huffed, "yeah, we probably do." Not pulling his hand away either.

It was so strange to you; after all these years things still felt so natural with him. A part of you still wanted to be bitter about the way things had ended back then, but you couldn't find it in you to be. Not when it still felt so right.

"What?" you asked after a silence a little too long. He just smiled, and your chest clenched at the sight. "I'm really glad we found each other again," he replied softly, almost too soft for the noisy atmosphere of the bar. You wouldn't be able to hear anything anyway with the way your heart was beating in your ear at his words.

The two of you sat like this for hours, catching up and laughing at each other's awful jokes until you realized how late it had gotten. He offered you a ride home which you had accepted gratefully, and now as tge both of you stood infront of your door, you wished the night didn't have to end. You weren't even sure of you would see him again.

It was great seeing you again, Art. Thank you," you spoke as you opened your arms in an offered hug which he accepted gladly. Your arms wrapped around each other, your hands rubbing against his back and taking the moment to savour his cologne. He still managed to smell the same, and you nearly sobbed at the thought.

You pulled away from him with a sigh, finding a pensive expression on his face. "You okay?" you asked. The furrow in his brows relaxed slightly before he answered. "Yeah, it's just," he breathed before continuing, "I think that's the most intimate thing I've experienced in a while."

His confession hit you like a ton of bricks, and you hadn't realized you hadn't said anything until he spoke up again. "That makes me sound a loser."

You laughed at that, not because you agreed but because there wasn't a world where you could think Art was a loser. He could be a total washout, the worst tennis player on the ranking, and you'd still think highly of him.

"I don't think you're a loser, Art," you told him as your hands rested on the sides of his face, taking a moment to appreciate his pretty face. Still as pretty and sweet and funny as all those years ago.

The kiss felt like a reunion between two hearts. Like this very moment had been exactly what you had been looking for for the last ten plus years. It felt like home, and when you pulled away, you felt homesick.

He rested his forehead against yours, breathing in the moment before his head lifted to kiss your forehead. You couldn't help but smile. You were finally home.

#challengers #challengers x reader #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson #likedovesinthewindd

360 notes · View notes

highvern · 2 days

Text

Talk

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x f!reader

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

warnings: oral sex/face sitting/69, prone bone, dom/sub dynamics (dom!reader/sub!hoshi), protected sex, impact play (spanking), mentions of butt stuff but nothing explicit

Length: ~ 4.3k

Note: this ended up way longer than i originally planned... by like 2k but im weak for sub hoshi. realized i accidentally made them schmidt and cece from new girl.... oh well. as always thank u @gyuswhore for suffering my horrible punctuation and EVERYONE HAS TO READ HER UP COMING HOSHI FIC FOR PIRATE HOSHI I DEMAND IT

series m.list: Houdini [s], Green Light [s, f], YUCK [f]

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

Soonyoung talks. A lot.

Sometimes it makes no sense. Like the occasions he calls you after a night out and slurs his words through the speaker as you hum agreement to who knows what until he passes out while still on the line, letting you hear every snore and smack of his lips until you hang up; or when he’s inside you and it's all a bit too much that he has to tell you how good it feels in excruciating detail; or when you both wake up in the morning, you late for work and him trying to talk you into keeping the sheets warm for just a few more minutes, and Soonyoung thinks he’s convinced you but fifteen more minutes really won’t hurt because his apartment is closer to your office anyway.

He talks so much that not hearing his voice the second he opens the door is like a slap in the face.

There's no invitation inside, or lukewarm greeting. The door hangs ajar, Soonyoung already back down the hall in the direction of his room with the expectation you’ll follow.

You do, but with the same hesitancy you’d approach a wild animal: curious and on edge.

Despite the hour, his roommates aren’t anywhere to be seen. No bodies sprawled across the couch or light under their doors. Their presence never stopped you before but it’s unsettling that there's no buffer of anything to break the storm cloud choking the atmosphere. Just stark exposure to whatever is clearly bothering Soonyoung that he won’t tell you about because, technically, you two don’t do that. Or, he does and you vehemently refuse all of it with less and less authenticity each time.

Soonyoung doesn’t prattle on about his day or ask about yours as you trail behind him. He throws off his shirt without a word, collapses on the edge of the mattress, and roughly pulls you into his lap. It’s cold and unfeeling and exactly the kind of sex you’d enthusiastically participate in a year ago. But nothing like the Soonyoung you’ve grown familiar with over the past few months.

He doesn’t comment on the low cut of your top, falling into the motions without the usual banter.

You wiggle free from his grasp, trying to meet his gaze. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He doesn’t look at you before taking back up where he left off.

“Stop.” You push him back, trying to get a look at his face but he stays in the crook of your neck. “Stop.”

The silence that follows is loud. He collapses back into the bed, arms curling up to hide away from whatever is chasing him.

“I said I’m fine,” he mumbles.

“Could've fooled me,” you huff.

“Doesn’t matter. Not what you come here for anyway, right?”

A half truth that stings more than you’d like. It sinks in your gut in the quiet dark of his room.

“You know what? Forget I asked, I’m leaving.”

“Wait,” he says, arms attempting to snake around your waist but you’re already up.

“No. You don’t need to be an asshole when I’m just trying to be nice.”

“Because you’re sunshine and rainbows all the time?”

“Did I fucking say I was? If you’ve got a problem with it you’ve had long enough to lose my number.”

“I’m sorry, I just…” he sighs heavily. “Bad day.”

You soften at the break in his voice. Stepping back over, you stand between his legs. He looks small, hunched over with his head in his hands and the weight of the world on his shoulders. The light you’ve come to associate with having him within reach is gone and all that's left is a man you don’t really recognize. He buries his face in the warmth of your stomach, and goes limp as you run a hand across his shoulders.

“Do—” you clear your throat. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Because if Soonyoung is talking there's less chances for you to open your mouth and screw it all up. You don’t know how to be doughy and tender with the same level of ease he possesses. You’ll probably fail trying but it's the least you can do.

It’s uncharted territory; for you, for this, whatever this is because it doesn’t really resemble anything you’ve done before even though the foundation is the same. Because you care about Soonyoung, and he obviously cares about you. But you’re not sure how to let him and even less sure how to return it.

“No.”

“Okay,” you say, at a loss for what comes next.

Inactivity breeds restlessness. Without any idea how to do this on your own, you default to the steps he took when you were half cooked on your bathroom floor.

Soonyoung eyes you with questions but doesn’t speak as you drag him into the en suite. Bites his tongue as you work off your clothes under the sterile overhead light and then move to work on his; raising his arms when you poke him and managing his pants on his own. He even smiles, or his mouth twitches in a vague allusion to a grin, when you flick water at him after guaranteeing the temperature won’t give you both pneumonia.

Finally tucked behind the shower curtain, he stands dumbly. Not another move to help, content to watch you wash his hair, nails raking over his scalp until he shivers.

You ignore the prod at your thigh. Focused on letting the warmth of the water do the heavy lifting, you soak a washcloth in soap and lather his skin until it tinges pink. A shampoo mohawk earns a kiss dusted along your shoulders and you might even blush a bit if you weren’t so focused on perfecting the spikes so he looks like one of those 90s alternative poster boys.

Out of the shower, his vow of silence continues. Everything he isn’t saying is clear in his eyes, especially when you slather his face in one of those mud masks, painting him bright green. He’s less intimidating with chunks of clay in his eyebrows.

He isn’t accommodating but he also doesn’t outright refuse which seems to be the best you’re going to get.

“You look like Shrek,” you snort, satisfied and turning towards the mirror to cover your own face in a matching shade.

“Well then you're Fiona.” His head comes over your shoulder, chin digging into bare skin to watch you in the mirror. His chest is sticky against your back from steam but you don’t mind if it means he’ll talk to you.

“Actually,” you think, wiggling to face him. “I think you’re more like Donkey.”

“The dragon fits you better anyway.”

“Are you calling me scary?” you gasp.

“Yes.”

“Good. Remember that next time you want me to suck on your balls.”

He winces. “I can feel them retreating into my body already.”

“Don’t make me laugh, it’ll mess up the mask.”

Without a care for the still drying mess of his face, he takes refuge back in his favorite place. Tucked under your chin, he sighs.

“I’m sorry I was a dick earlier. Work sucked today. I didn’t get a contract I wanted, they picked some other kid at the studio for it. I’ve taught him for years and they picked him over me.”

“I’m sorry.” You placate him with a gentle hand up his back, nails tracing loose patterns as the fan hums over head.

“Not your fault.”

“No, but it still sucks.”

“Yeah.” He nuzzles closer, arms heavy around your waist like you’d even think to move away. “It’ll be fine though. He’s a good kid and I couldn’t be mad at him. But I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

Fifteen minutes later, you both wash away the flakes of clay, cracked around the corners of your eyes and mouths, and retreat back under the covers in one set of pajamas split between: you in one of his shirts with nothing underneath, and him in sweatpants with nothing on top.

Soonyoung insists that Pirates of the Caribbean is his comfort movie, something about Kiera Knightly with a gun being his sexual awakening (which explains a lot), and you let him put it on the tiny screen of his laptop with plans to fall asleep in the first five minutes.

His lips are at your temple, a dull pressure that makes your blood hum. “I always wanted to be a pirate growing up.”

“Really?” you ask, edging towards unconsciousness from the lazy drag of his fingers on your hip.

“Yeah,” he agrees, eyes glued to the screen. “Have my own ship, no rules, a bunch of sexy wenches.”

“Half naked women with scurvy were a part of your career plan?”

“Okay, maybe I added those just now but my point stands.”

The picture of Soonyoung with a scar on his chest and one of those ruffled linen shirts straight off the cover of a dime novel some grandma would read on the train with no shame isn’t that bad. Actually, it’s pretty sexy. But you won’t feed his delusions.

“What point?”

He rolls on top of you, face open with grave seriousness. “We should role play. Me as the hot pirate captain, you as the beautiful princess. Forbidden love, enemies type stuff. You run away from being royal and end up joining my crew. Oh no, Captain Hoshi, I had no idea this was your room! What an impressive sword!” he squeals in a breathy mock of you.

“And then,” you gasp. “you come in five minutes and I convince everyone to throw you overboard?”

“Hurtful. But I’m willing to forgive you if you call me captain. Just once.”

He’s close enough to kiss, lips pouted as he waits for you to give into his demand. A gentle peck bordering on domestic makes him sigh, the taste of toothpaste lingering on his breath. Just as you think you’ve distracted him away from such an ridiculous idea, he leans back with a gleam in his eye that says he’ll wait all night if you make him.

“How about we roleplay falling asleep?” you sigh, eyes closed against his expectant gaze.

“Nope, too late. I’m thinking about you wearing nothing but a pirate hat and now I’m hard.”

He curls right into the meat of your thigh, hot and ready to go if you give the word. Sleep is tempting but the thought of a quick tumble wakes you up enough to entertain him.

“Alright, but you’re doing all the work,” you sigh. “Take off my clothes, captain.”

Pausing to let the idea settle, he shakes his head. “That’s actually not as hot as I thought it would be.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you fuff. “I’m watching the movie.”

You try to shove him away with zero intent to actually let him go anywhere and end up pinned, fingers in a tight grip around your wrists that you pretend to fight against. Soonyoung knows you like to be reminded of his strength on occasion; whether thats fucking your mouth until your throat burns or bending you over. This potentially being one since he’s had a hard day and you’re hungover from making him feel better about it.

He tongues across your pulse until you go pliant against the pillows, legs spread to cradle his hips. A shuffle of clothes and a lift of your hips and he’d be inside you. There's more steps; a condom, a little fingering because his dick was made to stretch your limits. Your legs shake already, desperate for quick fuck so you can passout while Soonyoung cleans you up.

But his new mood means he’s making up for lost time. Presently, that's bunching your shirt up to your chin and tracing each inch of newly uncovered skin with his tongue.

“Hellooooo ladies,” he sighs, nose buried between your breasts.

“God, you’re lame.”

“Be nice to me, I had a hard day,” he pouts, releasing your hands in favor of plucking at your chest until you sigh in delight.

“I’m literally letting you—hmmm— see my boobs after you said that corny shit. How much nicer can I be?”

He doesn’t answer, choosing to coax a low groan out of your chest with passes of his mouth until you're kicking the sheets. The good kind of sting that ruts your hips against his thigh and makes you dizzy. There will be a permanent wet patch if he doesn’t give you relief soon.

“I have a few ideas.”

“Like what?” You twitch at the thoughts running rampant. Short of donning that pirate hat mentioned earlier, anything he suggests is guaranteed to make you feel better too.

“Can show you better than I can tell you,” he bites into your nipple, sucking it to a stiff peak for his fingers to pinch before shifting focus to the other.

“If you try and put your dick in my ass I’ll rip it off.” The words are breathy off your lips. No real threat because he might be able to talk you into the idea if you let him. If he keeps pulling your strings the way he’s learned how.

But Soonyoung has different ideas, pulling off your nipple with a rough suck, curling your shoulders in. “That was one time and it was an accident!”

“Let me slip a finger in next time I blow you and tell me how you like it.”

“You have and I do. Keep talking about it and I’m gonna need another shower.”

“God, you’re a freak.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He takes the initiative to roll you on top, palms massaging your ass while enjoying the view of you naked in his lap.

A sudden moment of vulnerability roots in your chest, warmed by the set of brown eyes peering up at you. “You know I don’t just come here for this, right?”

Soonyoung’s eyebrows twist for a moment and then soften. “I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s fine,” you cut him off, not ready for anything deeper. The air is already thicker with the weight of that confession, suffocating. In an effort not to drown in it, you drop your chest flat to his, latching onto the jut of his collarbone. “Is this your big idea? Me on top? Not very original.”

A hand at your ass drags you along his covered cock, already begging for attention. It’s not original but you’ll dry hump him into the mattress until your bones are jelly if he wants.

“Sit on my face.”

It’s your turn to pull back. “What?”

“Sit. On. My. Face.” His hand is already firm against your thighs, forcing you halfway up his chest before you can argue.

“I heard you the first time, just confused how that's supposed to make you feel better.”

“You underestimate the power of your pussy. Now get up here.”

The shuffle up is less than sexy. Soonyoung is eager from your permission, rushing you up to his mouth until you nearly knee him in the head.

“Wait,” you say.

Soonyoung locks his arms as you move off him, reflexive because he lets go a second later. Turning, you eye the tent in his pants as you kneel back down. Perfect position to touch him while he touches you.

“Oh, fuck,” he grunts, fingers tracing through your wetness despite the horrible angle.

You don’t get a chance to orient yourself. He’s already quick to work with teasing passes of his tongue that turn bolder every second.

“Jesus Christ, give me a second to get your dick out.”

But he doesn’t; too consumed with tasting all you have to offer, wringing you out to dry the second he gets a chance. The flat of his tongue laps up your arousal like it’s more vital than oxygen. There's a wet mess smeared between your thighs from the vigor.

It takes all your focus to force down his pants, mouth watering at the shiny head of his cock straining from some heavy petting. You keep steady with one hand, jerking him off into your mouth with the other. Soonyoung malfunctions between your thighs as you swallow his cock, a moan right to your clit makes you fumble that last inch into your mouth.

He chokes you with a buck up but you take it in stride. Sucking harder, lashing against the slit until he whimpers. Normally, you’d exaggerate the wet noises at the back of your throat but with the crude dig of his tongue in your entrance there's no need.

“God,” you warble into his crotch. You arch back into his face, Soonyoung’s fingers digging into the meat of your ass, spreading you out like a full course meal.

In theory it’s hot. Your cunt on his face and his cock in your throat, rutting against each other until you're numb and twitching and covered in each other's mess. In practicality, there is nothing Soonyoung is more relentlessly dedicated to than eating you out until your vision turns white and you have to force him away or risk passing out. It only takes a few minutes before you’re forced to tap out, panting into his thigh and weakly fisting his length with no regard for the mess sticking between your knuckles, as he fucks you along his tongue.

“Gonna come, oh–fuck,” you choke. You want him to come too, in your mouth, on your face if that's what he wants. But by some glitch in the universe, Soonyoung is able to hold back and you’re the one racing to the finish first. “Oh my god, Soonyoung, fuck.”

You jerk him off, grip tight despite the slick mess of spit and pre-cum. It doesn’t help that ever squeeze at the swollen head sends a moan straight into your clit, forcing you hips to rut desperately.

“Don’t stop. Just, shit – need a little more—”

You pull one his hands away to take over your short strokes, spitting into his palm and squeezing until he figures out what you want; to watch him touch himself while eating you out. The contrast of his fingers tangled between your own, both glistening because Soonyoung is just as close as you are, gets you there.

“Close.” Thighs locked, you suffocate him but Soonyoung doesn’t complain. A palm at the base of your spine forces you down when you shy away from the edge. “Oh, oh, oh!”

A sting of your nails into his thigh is all the warning either of you get. Back arched tight, eyes clenched, you shudder through it. Soonyoung doesn’t stop, sucking away the fresh wave of arousal, tongue verging on punishing against your clit as you sink.

“Okay, that's enough—god,” your voice breaks. “Enough.”

You fall to the side, face first into the covers without effort to soften the blow. The lower half of your body is numb but you can feel his hand skating up the back of your calf.

“Good?” he asks, all too aware of the issue; the smirk is clear in his tone, happy to see you strung out from a few minutes on his mouth.

“Shut up,” you warn but the bite isn’t in it. The urge to kick him in the head is there but none of the energy.

“Are you tapping out on me or…?”

The sound of the drawer pauses in case you say no but the idea of not feeling him inside you sounds like the worst thing you’ve ever heard.

“You’re not that good,” you mumble into the blanket. “Fuck me like this, you promised you’d do all the work. Remember?”

“Like this?” he hums, rubbing the head of his cock back through the mess with admiration.

He obeys with a wet kiss to your shoulder, parting your legs and sliding between without a word. You soak in the stretch, ass arched into his hips to take it all. The cold bites down your back when Soonyoung leans back to watch.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he whines. “Shit.”

He drives into you with a bruising pace, betrayed by his own need to come after having you on his mouth without a tease of relief. You arch into it, the head of his cock dragging deep inside pushing disgusting noises from your lips you pray his roommates aren’t around to hear.

“Spank me.”

He loses it for a second. A rough thrust pushing you down the bed and he scrambles to follow. “Seriously?”

“Do it,” you bark.

The first strike is weak. More of a firm caress than the sting you crave; hesitant to push for too much too fast lest you take away any privilege he has.

“Harder.”

The next impact comes hard enough to burn an outline of his hand. And another one that makes your tongue feel too big for your own mouth.

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” you whine. “More.”

Arms pinned beneath your torso, all you can do is lay there and take it. Nerves gone, he spanks you like it’s second nature. Like he’s thought about it before.

“Good?” he asks. Sounds more like a beg for validation. That he’s the one driving you crazy, molding your insides to his cock until it’s all you can think about.

“So good, f–fuck me so good.”

“Yeah?” he breathes against your neck, a hand wedging beneath your hips to drag against your clit in messy strokes. “You’re so hot, fuck.”

There will be a bruise to hide come morning but you can’t care. The slap of his hips against your ass, the flame of his hand still lingering on your ass, his cock drilling your insides; there's no room for anything but Soonyoung, Soonyoung, Soonyoung.

You arch your back to feel him deeper only to have him pull out completely on the next stroke.

“No!” you protest, racing to keep him inside.

It’s no use, Soonyoung flips you on your back before you can convince him otherwise. He hooks your knees over his elbows, spreading you wide and driving home in one smooth push with his teeth at your neck.

“Gonna come,” he begs, voice weak. You know his game, what makes him tick and come so hard he goes blind.

“Not yet,” you warn. A rough twist in his hair only works against his thinning resolve and that's exactly why you pull harder until his hips kick into a jilted rhythm.

“I can’t – please – I can’t—”

“Not yet,” you gasp. He’s deep, right in the back of your throat making you foggy. “Be a g–good boy and wait until I tell you.”

Hips frantic, voice cracking, he tries to hold off; knows it's better when you tell him exactly what to do. Makes him choke into your chest.“Fuck, fuck!”

“Tell me how bad you want it. How much you love this pussy.”

“Love it, love your pussy.” He folds in half on top of you, desperate. Every drive of his cock into your center forcing your own desperate noises out. “Please let me come for you.”

“Look at me,” you demand. The command in your voice is paper thin but you're both too lost. His eyes are glassy, frantic to do whatever you ask if it means he can come. “Beg for it.”

“P–please,” he whimpers through gritted teeth. “Please let me come. Need it, wanna come. Please. Please!”

He’s too good to edge. Perfectly pliant to any demand and it makes you want to give him whatever he wants. “Give it to me. Fuck me through it. Let me feel you come for me.”

He latches onto your breast, sucking your nipple as his hips turn sloppy. The squeak of mattress springs are a sound track to his end. You won’t come again but you don’t need to. Satiated with the choked whimpers of your name as he swells against your walls, forcing himself as deep as possible like he’s fucking you raw and full of his cum.

Maybe someday you’ll let him.

Your hips are sore from being forced in half so long but you won’t move away until Soonyoung comes back down. Less from your own will power, more because you’re running on fumes and might fall asleep with him still inside you. He gives a few more pathetic twitches and then goes slack.

“Oh my god,” he groans. “I can’t feel my legs.”

“Welcome to the club,”

With the grand finale complete, your aching muscles give out completely. You can’t even laugh when one of his hands moves to check your pulse.

“Oh my god,” Soonyoung gasps. “I killed you with my dick.”

“You didn’t kill me.” You slap away his hand weakly. Without distraction, the stickiness of your skin from sweat in the worst places settles in but it’s a problem for later.

“A man can dream,” he says wistfully.

“Of homicide by cock?”

“Of dick game strong enough to murder someone.”

He rubs his nose along yours, breathes mingling in a lazy kiss as exhaustion creeps over your both.

“Your face smells like pussy.” You slouch into the mattress, deadweight while taking all of his like the perfect blanket.

He kisses you again, tongue teasing at your lips until you give the very real threat of teeth against it and he backs away. “Your mouth tastes like cock so I guess we’re even. C'mon we need to shower again.”

“Nooooooo,” you grumble, clinging to him in an effort to delay the chill waiting to invade between you.

“At least let me get a rag.”

Your legs tighten around his waist, locked at the ankle for dramatic effect. “If you pull out I’ll cry.”

“Words every man wants to hear,” he hums into your cheek with a kiss. “But my dick is sore and we both need to sleep.”

“Fine.”

When he pulls away you feel empty; devastatingly so. But you don’t ask him to comeback. Just pout at the loss and revel in placating pampering you receive in return.

He goes through the steps with familiarity. Wiping away the mess between your legs, tossing your shirt back up from the floor but you forgo it, choosing to sleep naked much to Soonyoung’s delight.

You use his chest as a pillow, curled into his side and tucked under his chin. The steady beat of his heart lulls you off. The last thing you register, on the hazy perimeter at the edge of sleep, is his fingers at your cheek and the ghost of a kiss on your forehead.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie

@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire

@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi @writingbarnes

@dokyeomkyeom @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @idkjustlovingbts @wobblewobble822 @futuristicenemychaos

@seungkw1 @horanghaezone @jespecially @gyuwoosbabie @dinossaurz

@wonustars

281 notes · View notes

ssajemilyprentiss · 2 days

Text

In the air

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x reader

Warnings: Smut, angsty-ish, reader is a bit cold/lacks emotion, Emily is a bit out of character lol (just this once), mentions of death (you know the regular cm stuff), sexual tension (or more like an attempt at it lol), curse words, eating out, vaginal fingering, nipple/breast play, dirty talk, use of pet names, degradation, praise. Let me know if i forgot something - Also MINORS DNI

Summary: When you get brought in for questioning at the FBI and they have Emily interrogate you - the tension between you is instant.

Wordcount: 2k

A/N: Um hello I guess, I’m back lol. It has been a hot minute since I both wrote and posted on here, and tbh I am a lil scared doing this again. Even tho I love posting and writing I have been so uninspired and unmotivated for so so long for some reason. But I will try to post more, can’t make any promises tho lol.

The beginning of this has been sitting in my drafts for god knows how long and I wanted to do something with it so here I am doing it lmao

Also a reminder if it has been forgotten, english is not my first language - and I would deeply appreciate your thoughts and opinions on this, thanks besties <3

This was requested by the lovely Jas @rafetopia (you requested this such a long time ago so you have probably forgotten it, and i can’t find your ask either, sorry about that lmao) who wrote the following: “so what if you wrote a blurb or one shot with emily (or jj tbh i don’t really care i love them both) and there are some murders and the reader is the suspect and there’s a hot interrogation session (i’m a sucker for it) but the ending is up to you like if she’s innocent or not (only if you want to lol) i didn’t want to make it too specific so you still have freedom 😅”

I decided to go with Emily for this one, hope that’s fine Jas (also hope it's fine i added the smut lmao) thank you for this request and i hope this turns out the way you wanted to <3

☽ My masterlist here

☽ Want to request something from me? Take a look here

You let out a deep sigh, crossing your legs for what felt like the hundredth time. The dark, pale interrogation room at the FBI headquarters was freezing cold and you feel yourself getting goosebumps from the chilly atmosphere. How long had you been sitting here? An hour? Two? Who knew? No one had told you anything yet, and none of the agents who showed up and arrested you had come in. Just as you’re about to uncross your legs the door opens and a grey-haired goddess of an FBI agent steps inside the room, her commanding presence immediately taking over the room. She takes a seat across from you, not saying anything. She stares deadpanned at you but all you can think about her eyes - dark brown, almost black, and you feel how you could get lost staring into them. The next thing you see is her nose, straight and pointy - one of her defining features for sure. Your eyes move on to her lips, they are full with a hint of red - red is definitely her color. You keep staring at her lips, biting your own lower lip as you do. You sit in silence for you don’t know how long, until she breaks the silence by clearing her throat. Your eyes shoot up from her lips into her eyes once again, and you see a sly smile forming on her mouth before she starts talking:

“My name is Supervisory Special Agent Emily Prentiss, I’m a profiler with the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit” she takes a breath before continuing “do you know why you’re here Ms. Y/L/N?”

“Actually I don’t” you reply, your lips forming a small smirk “but please agent, do enlighten me”

“You are here on suspicion of murder”

“Murder?” you retort, raising an eyebrow

“Correct, murder” she replies, tossing pictures on the table - but you keep staring into her eyes.

“Look at the pictures” she demands

You do, and see yourself in all of them - together with different women. You look up at the agent again with a blank expression.

“Do you recognize the women in the pictures?” she asks

“Well yes I do” you reply

You point to one of them “That’s me right there”

“‘I mean the other women” she retorts annoyed

“Oh, silly me” you chuckle “well yes I recognize them too”

“Go on” she says

“Well, as you can see I’ve met them all”

“Doing what?”

“Do you really wanna know that, Agent Prentiss?”

“Go on” she encourages you “What about her?” she asks, holding up one of the photos

You look at the photo for a while, it’s of you and one of the girls you had met - what was her name? Mia? Sophia?

“She was a pleasure”

“How come all the women you have met turned up dead just a few days after meeting you?” she asks, her tone accusatory

“Don’t know” you reply, shrugging your shoulders

“This isn’t a game Y/N, people are dead” she says, venom lacing her tone

“Don’t you think I know that?” you scoff “well I didn’t kill them”

“Where were you on these dates and times?” she asks, sliding a piece of paper with them written down towards you

“Well I can tell you that on all these dates I was very busy”

“With what?” she asks

You bite your lip again before answering “Well I was with my very good friend Izzie”

She sighs “And you were doing?”

You lean back in your chair, keeping your eyes fixed on hers as you do “You know the usual - shopping, drinking coffee, eating”

“Eating what?” she asks

You chuckle lightly “We were eating a lot of things, if you know what I mean” you say as you raise an eyebrow at her. You see how she takes a second, thinking about what you’re saying, but if your answer startles her - she doesn’t give it away.

“To be fair Y/N” Emily sighs “I’m getting kinda tired of this”

“Likewise” you reply, crossing your arms

Emily leans across the table, staring into your eyes. Her hands firmly gripping the table, and you imagine them gripping your body instead. You are woken from your fantasy by her hot breath right next to your ear. You feel the hairs on your arms raising and how wetness starts pooling between your legs.

“So why won’t you just tell me the truth, like a good girl” she whispers, nipping lightly at your ear

You take a sharp breath, exhaling shakily and not daring to move a muscle.

“Tell me Y/N” she whispers again “do you want to be my good girl?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. She chuckles lightly and tuts

“None of that now, I want to hear you say it” she whispers

You whimper lightly and swallow, just as you’re about to open your mouth the door opens and you and Emily get away from each other, she sits down in her chair composing herself. You sit back in your chair, feeling out of breath. You lock eyes with a tall grumpy agent who stares deadpanned at you.

“You’re free to go Ms. Y/L/N” he says

“What?” you ask, shocked

“You’re free to go” he repeats “your alibi checks out”

You get up from the chair and as you’re about to leave the room you stop right by Emily’s ear and whisper:

“That was fun, we should do it again sometime”

You don’t give her time to reply, swiftly exiting the room. On the way out you feel all the other agents staring at you as you walk past them, but all you can do is smirk - thinking back at the moment you just had with Emily - and how you need to get rid of the wetness between your legs the first thing you do when you get home.

The sun was shining outside the BAU, and you close your eyes taking a deep breath. You felt your phone vibrating in your pocket, picking it up you see your uber is on its way. You close your eyes and exhale once more, but before you know it someone is behind you and pushes you against the wall of the building, their hand on your throat. You feel your air supply being cut off and open your eyes in panic, and there in front of you is the grey-haired goddess of an FBI agent once more. She releases the pressure against your throat a little, but keeps her hand steady. You gasp for air as she leans towards you.

“Listen here you little slut” she says “I don’t think you’re as innocent as you make it look, but to be honest right now I don’t give a fuck”

You don’t answer, focusing on your breathing

“But what I’m more interested in right now is to keep our little party going” she says, backing away “If you want to?”

You raise an eyebrow at her, but can tell from the look on her face that she is serious. You chuckle, looking down at your feet with a sly smile - you look up again, meeting her brown eyes and reply:

“I’d never thought you’d ask”

She pulls you inside her apartment, dragging you towards her bedroom. She pushes you against the wall once again and presses her lips against yours. You moan into her mouth as your hands caress her body, reaching her breasts.

“Let me take your shirt off” you pant into her mouth

She pulls away and you pull her shirt over her head, and then do the same with yours. You take off her bra while she does the same with yours. She trails her kisses along your neck, and you throw your head back, giving her full access. She stops by your pulse point, sucking hard on it. You close your eyes and moan as she does, your hands finding her breasts. You start rubbing one of her nipples between your fingers, causing her to moan against your neck. She keeps trailing kisses further down on your body and reaches your breasts. She takes one of your nipples in her mouth, circling her tongue against it.

“Holy fuck” you breathe out “keep doing that”

She chuckles lightly against your nipple before pinching it lightly with her teeth, making you yelp.

“Lay down on the bed” she says

You obey, laying down on your back

“You’re so wet for me, aren’t you?” she asks, smirking

You lick your lips and nod, staring up at her.

She lowers herself, trailing kisses along your stomach down towards your pussy. You feel your clit pulsing and wetness dripping between your legs.

“Spread those legs for me” she says, and you obey instantly “let me see that pretty pussy of yours”

She starts kissing your inner thighs slowly, just brushing over your clit lightly when she switches from one leg to the other.

“Please” you pant, putting your hands in her hair directing her towards your clit “Please stop teasing and fuck me”

“As you wish princess” she says and start sucking forcefully on your clit, making you moan hard of the instant pleasure she gives you

“Such a good girl” she says against your clit, and you thrust your hips forward, looking for more. She chuckles softly and starts licking up and down your slit, and she easily slips two fingers into you - thrusting them slowly.

“Harder please” you pant “I’m gonna cum”

She picks up her pace, her thrusts becoming more determined, and your eyes starts fluttering from the overwhelming pleasure that is approaching you

“Cum for me” she husks and circle your clit once more, your orgasm washing over you like a wave of pleasure

“Fuck” you breathe out as she starts lapping up your juices

She kiss you and you taste yourself on her tongue, and then you flip her over - with her underneath you this time

“My turn” you coo and lick your lips, pinning her wrists above her head as you caress one of her nipples with your tongue

"So perfect" you murmur "Perfect tits. Perfect ass. Perfect everything"

You work your way down her body, kissing her

“Please” she breathes heavily “I need you”

“Where do you need me?” you ask, kneading her breasts once more

“Inside” she whimpers “your fingers inside”

You lick a line along her slit, tasting her wetness

“My my” you chuckle “do I make you this wet?”

“Yes” she groans “please just fuck me”

You slide two fingers inside of her, thrusting them slowly as you lower yourself towards her clit and take it in your mouth. She moans deeply and arches her back, and you start picking up your pace.

“Please” she breathes “need more”

You add another finger smoothly, and let her adjust a little before you start thrusting again, and you curl your fingers at her g-spot and start circling your tongue on her clit again - feeling her walls clenching against your fingers

“Yes” she cries out “just like that, I’m cumming”

You pick up the pace, flicking her clit harder and thrust your finger faster.

You feel her orgasm taking over, and she cries out from pleasure. You keep thrusting, helping her ride out her orgasm. When she has calmed down you slip out your fingers and take them in your mouth, cleaning her juices from them - and you moan once again from her taste.

The two of you crash down on the bed next to each other, panting heavily.

“That was good” she whispers

“So fucking good” you reply and she chuckles at you, turning her head towards you

You stare into Emily’s dark brown eyes once again, the first thing you had noticed about her when she walked into that interrogation room what felt like an eternity ago. Whatever lies behind those beautiful brown eyes is one mystery you would spend your entire life solving.

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

Taglist: @rafetopia / @ssa-sapphic / @sweetmidnights / @alexbllake / @emilyprsntiss / @sleep-deprived-athlete / @jemilyssecretlover / @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos / @cmslvtt / @phatcrackdad / @rookie-prentiss (this taglist is sooo old, so i'm sorry in advance if you don't want to be tagged, just let me know and i'll delete you <3)

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds x reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss imagine #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss x reader smut

141 notes · View notes

ilys00ga · 1 day

Text

𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗺𝗮𝗿𝗿𝘆 𝗺𝗲?

➞ pair: yoongi x female reader.

➞ word count: 897

➞ synopsis: just shy bf yoongi proposing to his gf :)

➞ genre: established relationship, shy bf yoongi, marriage proposal, fluffy fluff.

➞ A/N: I honestly can't believe I managed to finally write something just in a few hours lmao. BUTs this is actually inspired by a tiktok/reel i watched a while ago. i lost it now but it was about a guy proposing to his gf and the gf was so freaking cute she kept screaming and jumping around, he ended uo jumping along with her and screaming too lmao it was so cute i hope they r happy rn! enjoy babes <3

- ignore typos and mistakes :)

★ MASTERLIST.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Yoongi’s hands were trembling on his lap. The longer he waited, the more sweaty his warm palms got.

He would’ve enjoyed the atmosphere he was wrapped up in at that very moment, really. If it weren't for his irritated nervous system completely isolating him from the world outside of his mind, his being.

Outdoors, under the sparkling night sky, Yoongi laid on the grass with his lover by his side, stargazing. A blazed fire pit closely by their feet, paired with the splendid view of the mountains and the lake surrounding them, that was the kind of atmosphere he'd been preparing for his girlfriend for the past two months.

The rythmic, pulsating sound of night crickets chirping somewhere in the distance added a nice shade of color to their painting.

Perhaps, renting that vacation house for a few days was the one of the best decisions he'd made for his lover, but his plan was hanging off his entire body like some heavy metal armor, and it almost felt as though the small ring box hiding in his pocket was close to exploding at any moment.

Turning his head to the side, the sight of his girl smiling so brightly as she gazed up to the sky soared his heart up. Yoongi loved people watching. It’s almost in his nature, being a quiet, introverted person in his very core. He loved admiring people the most when they were busy with the things they loved the most, the things they found mesmerizing and beautiful the most. He loved watching people being people.

He loved it more when people were his person, his girl. And when she told him a few weeks ago about her love for stars, the idea popped in his head, and he couldn't help but make a secret promise in his heart. A promise that he'd make her spend one of her best nights under the shining bright sky, with him by her side.

So, when her eyes met his staring ones questioningly, he realized he'd bsent-mindedly uttered her name out loud.

That's when he took a deep breath in, felt the chill night air filling his chest up, and knew it was the right moment.

He dipped his hand into his pocket, feeling the hard box with his sweaty fingers. “I've been planning this for a really long time.”

Her questioning gaze turned confused when he sat up, attentively curious, but she let him speak. It only made him blush, though. And he tried to brush it off by looking down at the fist only he knew what's hidden inside of it.

Between his shyness and her amused chuckle, he pressed on his brain to function properly and carry his mission out.

“I had everything figured out. From renting this place, to setting this fire up. Yet, as I sit down here under the stars, with you right in front of me…this is all I can manage to do.”

With trembling, long fingers, Yoongi carefully and slowly opened the small box, presented it to the girl.

He watched her eyes leaving his to land on his hands, on the ring sitting prettily right in the middle of the box. In a matter of seconds, she stood up and gasped. The way her resting face snapped into a shocked one and her hand flew to cover her ajar mouth almost had him barking a short laugh out, but Yoongi smiled nervously nonetheless.

“Oh my god…!” She started screaming, jumping around in her place with so much excitement and glee. Yoongi couldn't decide whether to be grateful that her reaction helped quietening a lot of his nerves down, or burst out in laughter. Either way, his cheeks ached as he grinned so widely, too relieved and happy to even pop the question to his lady.

“Damn, you really were waiting for it!”

He waited patiently, letting her have her moment. His heart never slowed down, however. It beat so fast that he could swear he was getting slightly dizzy.

It didn't take too long for her to—momentarily—calm down, allowing the man who's been staring every so lovingly at her to finish what he started.

“Hold on, im supposed to be on one knee.” he said, but she stopped him right away.

“Youre doing just fine. Go for it, I don't care.” She took his free hand in hers and beamed at him. Yoongi was long since gone, by that point.

“I don't know what to say anymore. I'm usually a very careful guy.” He gulped timidly, “I'm too wary to take huge steps like this one. But somehow, whenever I'm with you, I always know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I'm just… too sure to be reluctant about it.

“So, __, will you marry me?–” before he could even finish the last syllable of his little speech, she yelled out a series of ‘yes, yes, yes, yes!’ and jumped right into his arms.

Yoongi thought that all puffs of air left his lungs and that he stopped breathing as soon as the first ‘yes’ eagerly escaped her lips.

His arms wrapped up around her so tight, his eyes closed shut as he buried his face in her shoulder, and the stars shone bright above their heads. A silent key witness of yet another new stage of their love.

#yoongi #yoongi scenarios #yoongi x reader #bts yoongi #yoongi fluff #yoongi drabble #bts scenarios #bts #yoongi fic #yoongi gif #min yoongi #bts fic #bts gifs #bts army

109 notes · View notes

makuzume · 3 days

Text

The Last Time You Talked to Him

🔅Yuta Okkotsu

🔅Content: Based on the recent spread on the events happening in JJK 261; MEGA spoilers; gn! reader; Yuta is fine then talks to reader about the plan first let's say I just want them talk; Word Count: 1k

🔅a/n: I was genuinely sobbing with hot streams of tears falling down my eyes while writing this at 4 AM I am DEVASTATED I had to express it somehow,, Didn't expect to have such attachment to this boy.

[JJK Masterlist]

"...Yu...?"

The silence was loud, deafening even.

The weather tonight was pleasant and had a clear sky: the moon was high, the stars were out, the breeze was calm...

You could say it would've been a perfect evening to have another lovely date by the usual spot: under the big tree, behind the school, sitting on the soft grass...

However, despite the scenic atmosphere that surrounded you, the look on both of your faces were low-spirited, displaying a sorrowful expression.

"...Yuta..." Slowly, you lowered your head, staring at the ground in front of you as you hugged your knees closer to your chest.

"...Please...." You whisper, almost pleaded as a few droplets began to form at the corners of your glistening eyes.

As you did your best to remain composed, you couldn't help but feel your facade begin to slowly break, like a dam of overwhelming emotion threathening to burst at any moment, bit by bit-

A dam that's ready to release all sorts of feelings: pain, sadness, fear, worry, hatred, and love.

Your breathing slowly began to turn uneven, your quiet voice shaking slightly.

"....Don't go... please..."

That was it for you.

Those words were enough to completely break your self-control, cracking the dam open.

Your face immediately hid in between your arms as you tightly gripped on your knees, releasing all of the emotions that had built up inside of you, unable to contain them any longer.

It hurt, it really hurt, knowing what will happen to him after tonight.

"....." Yuta was silent, dead slient, unable to think of any proper response to say to you.

I mean, what was he supposed to do in this situation? Should he hug you? Hold your hand? Lie Reassure you and say he'll come back safely??

If the one you loved comes to you and suddenly announces that he'll be stitched into another person's dead body to battle against the most notorious curse in history within in the next hour, what else are you left to follow up with??

The person you loved the most... now using your dead teacher's body, whom you both respected so much, as a vessle, a puppet, nothing more than a weapon... isn't that a little too messed up?

Why him?

As sickening it is to use Gojo's body to the very end, you're just as disgusted at the situation where it came to a point that a young man, such as Yuta, needed to be the one to step up and tackle the situation.

For his friends, for Gojo, for all sorcerers, all civilians, and even for you. Your peace.

And everyone agreed to this, even Gojo, which made you sick to the stomach. Seeing how even your late teacher accepted the dehumanization of his own being for the sake of becoming a mere shell of a weapon, further being pushed even agter his death; turning himself into the monster everybody needed him to be.

'I will be the monster.' He just had to say it.

Your growing disappointment in the reality of the sorcerer world only continued to grow more.

But you knew it was something he has to do... he wants to do... for everyone. It would be selfish- incredibly selfish for you to beg him to stay with you, endangering the world because of it.

But you couldnt help it. Every fiber in your being was screaming for him to not do it, it's gone too far, all of it, even though that the plan was already set in motion when you found out.

It was hard to hate him for doing that, but at the same time, you hated the fact for still loving that strong sense of morals he clings onto so much.

With your head still hidden deep within your knees, you sob "...Please.... please don't go... pleas, Yu...." You tried your best to speak in between your desperate cries, your words getting more and more inaudible as you weakly shaking your head in denial.

You couldnt help but still try to plea desperately, as void as your attempts would be.

You knew your words were uselses, you knew he would push through anyway, you knew he was the one who wanted to do this, for the sake of humanity- but still.

All you could do was plea, as if asking the Gods for a miracle. A miracle that somehow all of this this: the deaths, the curses, Shibuya, Sukuna, sorcery as a whole... was just some big screwed up dream.

Yuta slowly scoots closer to you, his hand ever so gently resting on the top of your trembling body. His hand gently caresses your back, comforting your shaking figure that hitched out quiet, miserable cries.

"My angel...." he spoke, calling out to you gently as you let yourself cry for a little more before trying to calm down.

Your heart ached for a moment upon hearing his affectionate and caring tone once more, and perhaps for the final time. It was already impossible for you to cry any more intensely. It hurts you like hell and you were already crying as if you had already lost him.

He knew nothing could ease the situation and trying to lighten it would only do nothing. All the both of you, and everyone else, could do is just accept the fate this world has to offer him; Accept the gamble of a lifetime Yuta will be risking.

Risk if never coming back as himself, risk of death, risk of defeat and the triumph of curses...

He wanted to say so many things he could never say in an hours worth of time. Yuta still wanted to tell you how much he loved spending time with you, how much he admried you, how happy he is everytime he made you smile; how happy he is just even thinking about you...

He ended up saying none of it, hoping you would have already known all the things he wouldve wanted to tell you.

The sad part is: you would know. You understand him better than anyone else- and you knew every single word of affection, fear, regret, guilt, and love he wanted to tell you. And imagining hearing him say those things would only end up hurting you even more.

...

Will it be the same? Will he come back? Will he survive.

No one's certain, yet, you remain clinging on to hope.

But fate is cruel, in reality. Fate is painful. Fate is uncertain. No one knows what will make of him after this

After taking a while to collect yourself, finally, you look up at him, your hand clenching so hard to your chest, your lungs so empty of air, and your cheeks stained with the warm stream of tears falling from your eyes.

"...I love you most....don't ever forget."

Yuta said, almost like a promise, like a goodbye.

He loves you, more than anything, even his own life itself- he loved you more.

Which is why he is willing to risk it in order to create a peaceful world for you to live in, and only he was ready.

As difficult as it may be, you knew it was a hard slap to the face by reality for you to accept fate. It was imposisble, but inevitable.

The world of sorcerers was never a place of clear blue skies and joyful songs. Its a dark place.

It's hard to blame anyone, because this is where fate had let you afterall, a tragic end to a supposed-to-be love story that could've ended with a better ending.

"....Let's meet here again... once everything is over." In the most gentle tone, he spoke. His eyes looking at you filled with so much love as if you were the only thing that mattered that moment.

Against all opposing forces, you somehow convinced yourself to force a smile: it was weak... filled with sorrow and affection mixed together, and you did your best to show your pretty little smile he loved so much, knowing it might have been something he needed the most right now.

He only regrets he may not be with you after everything has finished; not be able to train with you and get stronger together- not be able to spend the rest of his days with you anymore, like he promised, like he hoped.

....That, and the fact that this would perhaps the last time he would be able to see your smile ever again.

I'll see you again soon...

...Yuta.

---///-----///-----///-----///-----///-----///-----///---

a/n: It took me a while to edit this before posting cause of the amount of typos I had to deal with as I sobbed while making this but at least I captured the heart of my emotions during a vulnerable time lol I guess

YUTA LITERALLY SHOUDERED SUCH A BURDEN BC HE KNOWS IT'S SO MISERABLE AND SAD FOR GOJO TO BE THE ONLY MONSTER AND DEHUMANIZED BUT NO ONE ELSE WAS TRYING TO DO WHAT GOJO DID MY BOYYYY

[Back to JJK Masterlist] [Overall Masterlist]

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk 261 #jjk261 #jjk yuta #yuta #yuta okkotsu #x reader #jjk x reader #jjk angst #angst #yuta x reader

88 notes · View notes

natailiatulls07 · 4 hours

Note

I have to say, your Charles fics where he is/acts like a father are my favorite (the marguerite series and now the recent one) i'd love to keep seeing more ❤

Jules Bianchi x Daughter!reader

Charles Leclerc x little sister!reader

Summary - It's his home race, his family are there and his win; All through Marguerites eyes

Warning - Mention of Herve Leclerc's death, mention of alcohol

A/n - I'm back oops! Sorry I haven't posted in a month, to cut a long story short alot of shit happened in my life and I took an unexpected break lol. Also @nikfigueiredo thank you babes <333

(The blue bold text is Sky f1 commentary)

26.05.2024

The atmosphere in Ferrari hospitality was tense. Well everywhere was tense but espercially in Ferrari. Charles Leclerc was leading the Monaco Grand Prix, leading his home race.

Somewhere special to him and his loved one. He grew up on these streets and to win is something he and his late had grown up dreaming.

"There's his family watching on; Alexandra is partner, Pascale is mother and of course his adopted little sister Y/n, who is the daughter of the late Jules Bianchi."

I could feel the Sky camera panning towards me and the rest of the family but I was too stressed. Alexandra was stood beside me and I didn't need to look away from the large screen to know that she was fiddling nervously with her bracelets, much like how I was fidgeting with long strands of my hair.

I watched as the laps ticked closer to 78, one by one slowly. It was really an out of body experience. Part of me knew there was people around but I couldn't care less for them, keeping focused on Charlie.

"And for the first time in 93 years, this favoured race is won by one of their own. Charles Leclerc wins the Monaco Grand Prix to achieve his dream; Victory in his home race!"

Only then did I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. Once again the Sky camera is focused on me and Alexandra, but we don't care.

A soft touch shocks me out of my awe and whipping my head around, I see Alexandra looking at me with a excited smile.

"He did! Oh Marguerite, he did!" Her voice is surprisingly smoothing compared to the rest of hospitality. I just echo that same smile before wrapping my arms around her neck as I let out a shaky breath.

Behind Alexandra stand Pascale who captures my eyes, she has small tears on the edge of her water line. It wasn't hard to understand why she had tears in her eyes. I remember the day that we were told Herve Leclerc passed away, of course I was young but I could vividly remember it.

Pulling away from the hug, I feel a sudden surge of energy and excitement. In completely contrast to during the race, I start bouncing on my feet and laughing eagerly.

Turning to random people on our way out of the Ferrari hospitality. "Charlie won the race! His home race!" In return I would get sweet smile and laughs of joy.

"We can see Y/n Bianchi once again, I think she definitely rivaling Charles Leclerc in excitement right now. Not that long ago, we saw her excitedly talking to Jenson which was a funny thing to watch!"

We make it down to the track in time for the podium. Most of our trip down to the track was spent with Pascale and/or Alexandra pulling me away from restlessly talking to people about his win.

I look up at the podium, I watch as Carlos, Oscar and then Charles all make their ways to their respective steps. We watch as they are handed their trophies and as Prince Albert gives Charlie multiple thrilled hugs.

During the Monegasque national athems, I notice how his eyes floats down to us. Instantly the smiles on both mine and his face widens, finally feeling joy together. After the first athem, I join the Ferrari crew and staff in happily singing the Italian national athems.

"You know we need to get Y/n on to do something with the Sky f1 team because she seems like a sweet young lady and we know that fans her age love her!"

Whilst waiting for the team debriefing to finish; Me, Alexandra, Pascale, Arthur, Lorenzo and his girlfriend, Charlotte, were all given the now empty Ferrari hospitality to relax.

"Can you believe?! Oh I'm so happy for him!" Unlike everyone, I couldn't hold in my excitement and I was frantically bouncing in my spot between Charlotte and Alexandra. It didn't help that I was running on close to no sleep and some random energy drink.

Everyone just laughed shaking their heads softly. "Oh my god! We need to celebrate! Maybe even my first ever drink!?" I look over towards Pascale, she was practically like a grandmother to me.

She just laughs, giving me a knowning look before replying to me. "That's up to Charlie, don't ask me..."

"Up to me? What's up to me?" His voice comes out of no where, we all quickly turn to face the entrance and there he was stood still in racing suit.

I don't wait a second before rushing over to him and jumping into a hug, something we haven't done in a few years. "You did it! You did it!" I can feel the rumble of his laughter as his arms tighten around me. "I'm so proud of you!" I whisper gently.

Unknown to me, everyone in the room is tearing up. All so proud of Charlie but just in awe of the sweet moment between him and the most loving teenage ever.

"Also can I have my first drink tonight whilst we celebrate? Please!" With a pout on my face, I look up to his face but as soon as he shakes his head with a smirk, my pout turns into a frown and everyone around us just laughs knowingly.

#formula one #formula one x reader #f1 #f1 x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x sister #jules bianchi #ferrari #forza ferrari #scuderia ferrari #formula one x y/n #formula one x you #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #marguerite

118 notes · View notes

thursdayinspace · 3 days

Text

I love the Millennium kiss for the way it is so gentle and happy and calm. There is no urgency behind it, it’s not a revelation, it’s not suddenly being hit with bottled-up feelings.

He looks at her and he loves her, utterly and completely. He doesn’t see the point of putting any walls up in this moment. He lets himself feel it because . . . because it’s what he’s feeling. There’s no “Oh god, I have to kiss her.” It’s: consequences be damned, this is the woman he loves and she’s right there next to him and his heart no longer sees the point of not doing this.

And she welcomes it so easily. There is barely a moment of surprise on her face. She’s ready. This is what they have always been to each other and there is no hesitation, no moment of “Okay, so this is happening now.” It just is. She has loved him for so long and in her heart she already knows that there’s no use denying it. If he leans in for a kiss, then yes, she’s going to kiss him back.

I love the way this kiss is done – the way all the sounds of the new year’s celebration fade into the background and the camera narrows the world down to only them, like nothing else exists. It captures the gentle energy of the moment so nicely. Because what has prevented them from doing this has always mostly been external factors, private and professional, but not emotional. But there are none here. They’re literally being faded out. It’s just them. It’s honestly perfectly done. Including the acting; you see them giving in to the moment, and I especially love the change of her smile after the kiss, going from “wow, this really happened,” to “did this really just happen?” It’s art. Everything about it.

This moment is not about being in love, it’s about loving each other. There is a difference. There is none of the fluttery excitement about being in love, the elation of it, the fantasy of what could be, the need, the straining towards each other. This is not their hearts jumping in their chests, their breaths hitching, their palms tingling with the need to reach out. This is quiet and soft. They already know. This is not “I need you like I need air,” this is not “I think of you every second of every day and miss you like crazy when I don’t see you for more than an hour.” This is “Did you know that I love you? Because I do.” This is “Nothing feels more right than being here with you right now.” This is exactly what they say to each other after the kiss: “The world didn’t end.” “No, it didn’t.”

It is not a storm. It’s the atmosphere of a gentle summer evening, nowhere to be but with each other. Life goes on, and it still will if they allow themselves to kiss, to admit that this is what they’ve wanted all along. Maybe, in a way, it is a revelation after all. It’s realizing that there’s no point in pretending.

They are truly happy in this moment. There is no doubt, there is no question about anything. This is who they are. This is pure and unfaltering love. Quiet, calm; the only motivation being that they want to. And that is what makes it so good: the only reason for it being “I can’t not tell you that this is the way I love you.” Of all their kisses, this is the happiest one. Their walls are down, and the world didn’t end.

#txf #the x files #msr #mulder and scully #txf meta #I have so many feelings about the millennium kiss

120 notes · View notes

iceinwhb · 3 days

Note

Oh my God please I will definitely give you more!!

One of my ideas is:

Mammon dolling you up just to bring you to a fancy party full of wealthy devils ;)

You know the one, where he shows you off like some exotic pet.

Sitting in his lap as devil's eye you like a piece of meat. But they know they can only look not touch.

Woah... This... I got to write it quickly. But I know it's going to be very short… Let me see.

﹅ contains ;; what in hell is bad, Mammon, sfw.

You had never been to a similar party, not even remotely close.

The glamour of the room was more than impressive; if it wasn't for the fact that you were already more aware that gold was a material they used for every single thing that could enter into the mind of a rich man with a lot of money and desire to spend.

But what you were still not able to understand, was the reason why Mammon invited you there in the first place, and if he was aware that all those looks would be glued to your body, and they would covet you, because you were the last descendant of Solomon.

He smiled all the time, never moving away from your side, and never letting you out of his touch, almost like a precious object that no one else could access, only him.

You could even say he took pride in your presence, as he drank a strange and exotic type of liquor that you would never have imagined seeing on earth, or anywhere else but there, as he relaxedly enjoyed the ominous atmosphere.

Since you arrived, the demons were making a restless circle, with the purpose of greeting Mammon and taking a closer look at their companion, at every part of you, as if assessing at a glance your value.

And after overwhelming you with undue attention, he lifted you in his arms, and solely cared for you, too comfortable to realize his intentions. He wanted everyone to see how precious you were, too much to consider anything else.

He sat you on his lap, and kissed you gently, before caressing your hair, and your neck. His hand traveled to your waist, and made circles over your thigh.

“Having fun?” you whispered, almost in a playfully accusatory way, as your head fell to his chest, and you basked in his scent.

“They were never bad, don't you like it? We can leave whenever you want.”

“Opulence, looks that consider me a piece of meat, and expensive liquor were never exactly something I wanted to try to the extreme.” You laughed, and denied. “As long as you don't sell me out to anyone here, so much the better.”

“It has never crossed my mind to give you to anyone else, but if you want to know how much they would give for you…” Fingers slid to your ass, instinctively. “You know I'd give everything I own for you, and that's already yours.” He whispered, as his nose rubbed against your cheek. “No one could ever give you what you're really worth.”

You had no words for it, except a laugh.

“Later, you'll have to pay for that.” You let him manipulate you any way he wanted, while internally you adored the excitement in his eyes, which not was too short-lived because he didn't want to wait for the party to end.

⛧✃✃✃⛧✁✁✁⛧✃✃✃⛧✁✁✁⛧

Actually, it's very short, but I can't imagine what kind of things the non-sectarian rich people. do (Sorry, the movies).

#whb #what in hell is bad #prettybusy what in “hell” is bad?#pretty busy #whb mammon #covered secured and I like the stylw of the idea

75 notes · View notes

redtsundere-writes · 2 days

Text

Second Chapter “Ribs” is available now!

King!Sukuna Ryomen x Servant!Reader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. You are an ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

PICK YOUR FAVORITE!

AO3 or Wattpad?

Preview ↆ

Sukuna doesn’t understand how humans work. He just knows that they are disgusting animals that should be killed to be eaten once they become useless. Humans have emotions and problems that he doesn’t understand, like why feel alone when you can just kidnap a woman? Or, why starve if you can kill another man to steal their food? Such simple solutions to first world problems. Humans were a weird specimen in Sukuna’s eyes.

Sukuna had a lot of servants that served him day and night. He handles them as toys that he can replace if they break. He humiliates, assaults and kills them for sport. The servants, unable to defend themselves against the giant threat they serve, can only keep quiet and obey him to survive in the horrible conditions they work in. The weak humans hate him and wish for death to come soon for him. His dreams and hopes for life have been replaced.

Everyone knew you were Sukuna’s favorite, but he didn’t know yet. He really believes that you are the only servant who can do things right without complaining. He could do whatever he wanted with you, knowing full well that you would do nothing to stop him. You're just a loyal servant, nothing more. He could ask you to sweep the shade of the sun, clean the castle roof or kiss his feet, and you would do it without complaint. You were a good servant, and he knew it perfectly.

It was another cold night at the dark temple. Like every night, the dining room and kitchen were in chaos. Dinner was being prepared by the various cooks operating the large kitchen. Hot pans, grills on high heat and various smells permeated the tense atmosphere. Uraume paraded between the aisles, making sure everyone was doing their job properly. As head chef, he could allow no margin for error. Especially knowing his majesty's picky palate. They would taste the sweet and sour sauces, the fine cuts of meat and the drinks to make sure no cook wanted to poison his master.

Servants ran around the dining room to get everything ready before the king came down to eat. The long table decorated with a large black tablecloth with elegant embroidery was accompanied by the fine porcelain plates with gold rims. You found yourself placing the last of the silverware in the correct order and perfectly symmetrical as the king likes. As the servants began to feel the heavy footsteps under their feet, they hurried to put the finishing touches on the table and ran to the walls to stand in formation. Their backs pressed against the wall, arms at their sides and always facing forward, avoiding eye contact.

Sukuna entered the room and everybody bowed to him. He paraded through the room and stopped in front of you. Everyone panicked with their eyes since this was the first time he did something like that. While he was inspecting you from head to toe, you felt your heart sink. You didn’t know what you had done to deserve his attention. “Did I do something wrong?” you asked yourself while sweating cold. Your legs were trembling, and you were about to pee yourself.

Sukuna looked at you with a mischievous smile. He likes making you nervous and shy. You looked so cute trying so hard not to make eye contact with him. Size wise, you looked petite by his side. He could easily squeeze you to death with one hand, but he rather has you around so you could treat him with nice massages. The reason he stopped with you was because he knew you were a hard worker around his temple, and today, he felt generous enough to reward you.

Order your own fanfic! (Starting price: $5 USD)

Masterlist.

101 notes · View notes

latteandjacks · 2 days

Text

There's a lot of things I really like about Indigo Park and one of them is that it makes complete and full sense that Rambley asks YOU to do the puzzles

Despite being sentient and having access to most mechanical things in the park, he's still confined to a screen all of the time, so he can't physically help you Normally in mascot horror games (Even Poppy playtime to some extent) the character doesn't move an inch to help you with puzzles and asks you to handle everything while they stay in their place in idle, while Rambley directly needs your help

I also like how he isn't forcing you to stay at the park, he asks if you want to help to restore the park and it's clear that the MC was willing to stay which is GREAT to justify why they don't just leave for an emergency exit or jumping the fence and empathizing with Rambley more

There's also the fact that we aren't just a plain MC, we know they like to explore abandoned places (which justifies them going to Indigo Park more than the actual Poppy playtime did imo), we know not only their favorite character but also their mother's, and Rambley isn't the only one commenting about the collectables, there's dialogue of us too

And my favorite, the place being big is justified, this is a disneyland-like park, so it doesn't feel out of place or weird

The critter cuff is okay, it's the mechanic that makes the most sense out of every game (I'm yet to find how Poppy's hands could be used in real life, fun mechanic, but it ruins the immersion for ME), It's reasonable, it's like a pass for the whole day and that's cool

Indigo Park is doing a great job in fixing these common problems in mascot horror, the atmosphere is dark and mysterious, Rambley has humor and we trust him but we also get to see a more "human" side of him the more he realizes the park has been abandoned for a very long time

If there's some stuff I didn't like about the game would be the way the mascots move when chasing you and the textures not loading well for the first rooms (Tho I'm guessing this will soon get corrected)

AND ALSO THE SONGGGG I LOVE IT

#Not bashing in Poppy playtime #In fact I loved LOVED the last chapter and I'm ready to see how the history develops!#indigo park #rambley the raccoon

71 notes · View notes

bobbin-buckley · 2 days

Text

Cairo Sweet SFW

ALPHABET

Cairo Sweet x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff! Mentions of Smoking, Porn writing, Mr. Miller mentioned, sex mentioned

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A: Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Cairo can be pretty affectionate. She really likes to show how much of a tease she can be, or how flirty she is.

She’ll show you her affection by touching you teasingly. Like a thigh touch or kiss to the neck. She isn’t super affectionate with physical contact but with words for sure, I mean hell she writes poetry. She’ll even read poems to you to show her affection.

She’s a softie

B: Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

You and Cairo used to be rivals. Hated each other, or so you thought. She used her other best friend (Winnie) and backstabbed her. But with all the flirting and seducing between you two, it got pretty much straight to being girlfriends.

Though you still are considered best friends because you actually now get along well.

C: Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

She doesn’t mind them. I wouldn’t say it’s all the time but she’ll cuddle you when you really need it. She prefers to be big spoon, maybe if you’re lucky you can be big spoon. But it’s rare.

She loves to spoon you. Only because she then can tease you back there, like groping you-

D: Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Well, you both are in high school. But it’s Senior year so super close to College. She never thought about moving in together like in a dorm at campus or in an apartment. She’d probably like it but also hate it because she loves the atmosphere of her mansion.

She lives alone most of them time. So she cooks for herself most days, she probably has like a maid that does the cleaning. Cause I couldn’t see her doing that 💀

E: Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Well, the only reason you’d guy’s probably would break up is because she used you. Or maybe she just didn’t want you anymore without reason.

She’d probably just straight up say it to you. This girl is bold asf

F: Fiancé(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Cairo isn’t really that open at all. She rarely talks about her personal life and her parents. You only get details by how she lives and acts. For whatever reason she talks to Mr. Miller about personal things.

I mean you are about out of high school so not for a while. Maybe end of the first year of college or second year I could see her wanting to get married. Shes never mentioned it though.

G: Gentle (How gentle are they? Both physically and emotionally?)

Cairo is pretty gentle, she tries to be anyway. She may not be the best with physical contact when it comes to affection, but words are her thing.

See, physically she might just rub your arm or hold your hand when upset. If she truly cares she’ll hug you. Though emotionally she never means to hurt you on purpose. (We think anyway). Cairo might hurt you but on accident, she never EVER will hurt you physically. Emotionally just hurts her as much, her words are content, heartwarming and comforting. She just has a hard time understanding someone else’s feelings because she used to just care for her own.

Otherwise she cares about you and is gentle with you most of the time

H: Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

She likes them more than cuddling. And you know how she is about physical contact, depends how she feels. So she’ll give them to you when she misses you, you’re upset or if you offer one. So a lot of the time. Now her hugs are actually really comforting, you’re just scared to ask her for one. They are very gentle, never squeezes you, rubs your back and maybe kisses your cheek or neck.

I: I love you (How fast do they say the L word?)

She wasn’t sure at first. She doubted for a while if you were even the one. But after awhile she realized how much she loved you and how hard she fell for you.

She said it first, surprisingly. Though did she doubt herself after she said it, worried you weren’t ready. And she says it back all the time, other than if she’s upset she doesn’t really wanna talk to you.

J: Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Oh lord, let’s not even get started. This girl hates being jealous anyway. Even if she isn’t super affectionate she still gets mad when someone else is making you the center of attention. She won’t really say anything, just watches and wait. If they don’t do anything she just stays quiet for a bit and is a bit distant

Otherwise if someone is touching you without your consent. Oh boy she’s gonna say something, may even sucker punch them. That’s pretty much what she does with both situations.

K: Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Her kisses her passionate yet deep. And again, all depends on her mood. If she’s feeling affectionate and needy her kisses are rough and sloppy, like spit, tongue and everything. She likes her kisses dirty, only when alone though. In public or around other people (not that she like pda that much) she’ll give you small pecks.

She likes to kiss you on the pulse on your neck. Really anywhere on your neck, but the pulse just hits different there. She sometimes grazes her teeth over it and nibble next to it.

She loves to be kissed on her shoulder, it’s just soft and she’s a little ticklish there oddly. Even her cheek she likes it. (She’s secretly ticklish)

L: Little Ones (How are they around children?)

She fucking hates kids. HATES toddlers, she could never babysit or be around one for too long. She’s the kind of person who laughs when they fall. Yeah…wow Cairo.

M: Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

On non school nights she has you over to spend the night since she hates being alone. So you stay until the morning or stay all the next day and so on. But she’s a morning person, you aren’t (maybe). But if you aren’t she doesn’t wake you up, she honestly likes watching you sleep..not in a weird way. This is a time where she’s feeling cuddly, she might hold you and rub the bridge of your nose as you sleep, serve coffee in bed when you wake up.

If you are a early bird like her, she’s willing to make breakfast with you, go on a morning walk or even go out for breakfast

N: Night (How are nights spent with them?)

You are always over. You both are either gossiping, cuddling, she writing and you’re…doing whatever (I’d mess with her stuff) and even probably having sex. Just throwing that out there.

O: Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait awhile to reveal things slowly?)

She never really talks about herself. She’s so insecure. (relatable). So about a few months until she starts talking about personal or things that have affected her. She doesn’t really do it at all once, she’ll give you bits of info throughout dating. And you respect that, she’s just so upset and has all this anger. She spilled and broke-down in front of you about how she just wants to be loved, and you tell her she is. It’s you, Winnie. (Probably not her parents since it doesn’t seem like they even check on her)

P: Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Oh brother. The movie basically broke out how angry she is. If she doesn’t get what she wants or something doesn’t happen she gets pissed. This is something hard for you to deal with. She tends to be annoyed with you at times, but she doesn’t mean it. She’s just upset and heartbroken. Poor babygirl :(

(You may even let her fuck her anger out on you-)

Q: Quizzes (How much do they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

She remembers a lot about. She needs to know who she’s dating. Wether if you’re foolish or not so she can look out for you. (Softie)

So she makes sure she knows everything. She’ll even make sure to ask you though if she forgets. But she cannot forget you’re favorite color, that’s important to her. You’ve never understood or found out why.

R: Remember (What’s their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The time you listened to her vent to you. It was hard, and heartbreaking but she managed to vent everything to you. She loves that you listened to her, respected everything she said even if some of it was wrong. She loves that you are their to listen for her.

S: Security (How protective are they? How would they like to protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Very. I mean very. Her jealousy is a lot. If you are hurt emotionally or physically, that person won’t be alive. She scoffs whenever you call her a softie for how protective she is. She protects you by telling people to get lost or glare at them. She’s short but mighty, you’re terrified to call her that face to face. And she doesn’t need protection, she’s terrifying anyways. She has her ways of exposing or threatening. (It’s hot on how jealous and protective she gets)

T: Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

She doesn’t buy a lot of things. But she doesn’t mind dates. She’ll take you out on picnics or walks, even an expensive dinner. Cairo never fails to make the best anniversary. Wanna guess what it is? Sex! You’ve got it! Basically it’s all the anniversary is, she never goes anywhere because she’s worried her parents might yell at her because she used their money. And yes, she makes sure to take care of you when she can. But since you’re still in high school you live at your own house and manage on your own.

U: Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

She smokes way too much. You want to tell her to relax a bit on it, but scared she’ll yell at you. But she would understand if you did tell her. She might listen.

V: Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

She isn’t. She’s too sexy and confident to be. Winnie has given her that confidence. And you tell her how gorgeous she is. She is both hot and smart indeed.

W: Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Maybe. She wouldn’t feel the same, she’d be depressed and unloved. But you do let her talk about herself and vent, so she’d miss that. For sure. She’d also miss you’re silly antics and laugh. Even your touch tbh.

X: Xtra (A random headcanon for them)

She often offers to smoke with you. It’s a bonding thing. She also lets you help her with her writing, you give her tips. She loves it whenever you press nose to nose, it’s like your little love language.

Y: Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

How someone can be so unorganized. She hates unorganized people, if you are unorganized. She’s fixing that habit of yours.

She hates when her partner will be way too needy. She needs her own space at times

Z: Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

She honestly doesn’t sleep well. She tends to stay up late and write, but with you there she sleeps better because you get her to rest (in two ways).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

:) I do have fun making these

😉if anyone wants me to do another Jenna character I will or Jenna herself

#jenna ortega #cairo sweet #jenna ortega x fem!reader #millers girl #cairo sweet x reader #cairo sweet x female reader

64 notes · View notes

glearyyyne · 3 days

Text

a true story Part 2

Part 1

Synopsis: You thought you would be having a peaceful life after running away from him in Tokyo as you moved into the countryside and built a cafe but what would you do if he suddenly showed up asking for an explanation that night?

Word Count: 7,284 words

Warning: 21+ DNI, gun, swearing, mention of knife, threatening, negative comments, mention of stalker, fighting, betrayal, a sprinkle of angst, open ending.

Note: So I finally finished this yay!! Even though this was also one of my few episodes of 'wanting to drop the fic' I didn't really expect people to be so invested in part 1 so here have some more!

_____________________________________________________________

“[Reader's name]!”

You turned your head to see Megumi waiting by the gate of your house.

“Just a second!” You told him as you closed the hose after you finished watering the plants as you headed to the gate to open.

It's been at least 4 years since you left the city you lived in. You tried your best to leave everything behind so that Satoru won't find you.

You quit your job at the bar, you even begged the owner not to tell satoru that you left your job and you even told Fumiko where you’ll be staying just so she can visit you and give you some updates about the bar but you also begged her not to tell satoru as he knew your friendship with Fumiko.

You even sold your phone behind as you knew there was a chance that satoru could trace your whereabouts. You now live in the countryside that isn't most likely known in Japan.

"Are you not going to open the cafe?" Megumi asked.

"I am, can you wait for a minute? I'll just go and lock the door," you replied as you hurried to secure the house before heading to the cafe with Megumi.

Megumi nodded as you headed inside and locked the door. Running a cafe in the countryside wasn't easy, but with your experience in the bar, you managed to make it work.

Despite the challenges, you found comfort in the relaxed atmosphere of your cafe.

Megumi, your neighbor for the past three years, took on the role of cashier, a move that initially puzzled you given his introverted nature.

However, you accepted his request for a job since you needed someone reliable to manage the register.

Not too long after, you and Megumi arrived at the cafe.

With your keys, you opened the door and the two of you headed inside to begin opening the shop.

You busied yourself with cleaning the coffee equipment while Megumi neatly arranged the pastries in the glass display.

Together, you swiftly prepared the cafe for another day of serving customers in the peaceful countryside setting.

As you were at the sink, you heard a ringtone from beside it. It was Megumi's phone, and you accidentally saw the message.

‘Any update from her?’

Your brows furrowed as you saw the sender's name

G.S?

"Megumi?" you called his name. He responded with a hum while still doing his task.

"I think you got a message from... G.S?" Your words made Megumi stop abruptly.

He quickly grabbed his phone, "Sorry, I'll go outside and answer this," he said before you could say anything. With that, he left the cafe to respond to the message.

You were baffled, it was the first time you saw Megumi panicking. It must be from his family.

You shrugged it off and went back to cleaning the sink, trying not to dwell on it too much. But as you scrubbed, you couldn't help but recall the conversation where you asked Megumi why he moved here.

"Why did I move here?" Megumi asked, counting the money at the register as you nodded, perched on the countertop since the cafe was already closed.

"Uhm, I guess my guardian placed me here so I don't... meddle in his business," he replied.

You rolled your eyes, "You're lying, Megumi, your ears are bright red," you pointed out, making Megumi sigh and cover his ears.

"It's just cold in here and I'm telling the truth!" he defended himself, which made you laugh.

"Whatever you say. But wait, you said guardian? Does that mean... not to offend you, but you don't have your parents?" you asked cautiously, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable.

Megumi sighed, momentarily stopping counting as he nodded.

"They left me and my sister when I was younger," he said, making you want to apologize for asking. But before you could, he continued, "I don't even remember what they looked like, so it doesn't matter to me."

"Then where's your sister?" you asked.

"In Tokyo. She's doing some job, that's why she's not with me here," he answered.

"I guess that guardian of yours is an angel," you told him, but he only groaned in annoyance. "He's a pain in the ass," Megumi said, making you laugh.

As the sun set, the closing of the cafe drew near.

Today, a lot of customers came, which made you happy knowing that the pastries wouldn't go to waste, and the aroma of the coffee made it feel even more like home.

As soon as it hit 10, you closed the sign, and you and Megumi began packing up. You were busy cleaning the tables while Megumi handled the money in the register again.

"Megumi," you called out while wiping down a table. "You can head home after counting the money," you told him.

"Are you sure?" he asked, a hint of hesitation in his voice. "We usually head out at the same time," he added.

"Yeah, but I have to go somewhere first before I head home," you told him.

Megumi was hesitant at first, but then he proceeded to agree as he went on to count the remaining money.

After Megumi bid goodbye to you, you were left alone in the cafe.

Once you finished cleaning, you began to switch off the lights before locking the main door.

Walking down the streets, you hugged the heat pad closer as the weather began to get colder with winter nearing.

Stopping by the cake shop, you entered and were greeted by the cashier.

"What can I get for you, ma'am?" she asked. "Do you have any bento cakes?" you inquired.

"We do! We have a lot of variations of bento cakes. Feel free to pick one you like," the cashier replied, gesturing to the display of cakes.

Not too long after, you picked your desired cake and paid for it before heading home.

Just as you arrived at your gate, you noticed the lights on in Megumi's house and a silhouette larger than Megumi's. It seemed he had some visitors.

Shrugging it off, you got inside your house, turning on the lights and the heater as you headed to your table and began to open the cake.

Glancing at the time, you saw it was already 12:14 am. You sighed as you lit the candle.

You started to sing yourself a happy birthday before making a wish and taking a bite of the cake.

It was another birthday alone. It was hard to get used to, but what could you do? With divorced parents busy with their own families, they had forgotten about you. Your other relatives were in Tokyo, and since you moved to the countryside, you weren't expecting them to visit.

You didn't want to hear their pitying comments anyway.

You didn't even eat half of the cake before you stood up to clean the table and put the cake in the refrigerator.

"I should give some to Megumi tomorrow," you muttered after closing the refrigerator.

Then you headed to the bathroom to change and brush your teeth before finally heading to bed.

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of your doorbell, a recent addition to your gate in case someone wanted to see you.

It was still too early to head to the cafe, so you reluctantly got out of bed.

Making your way to the gate, you opened it without much thought, only to be met with surprise when you saw the white-haired man standing there—a face you hadn't seen in four years.

He seemed to have changed, a bit more muscular here and there—wait, what were you thinking?

"Satoru? What—how did you find me?" you asked, your face peering out cautiously from behind the gate, ready to retreat if necessary.

"[Reader's name], long time no see," he said with that infuriating smirk.

With an annoying sigh, you attempted to shut the gate, but Satoru was a step ahead, managing to hold it open.

"Oh, come on, is that how you greet someone you suddenly left after that night?" he teased.

"I left? It's you who left!" you retorted, feeling frustration bubbling up.

"I never left that day. It was you who suddenly left with that typical note," he argued.

"Look, the past is the past. Let's forget what happened between us," you urged, hoping to move past the confrontation.

But you noticed the intensity in his gaze. "I was serious," he said, his tone shifting.

"What?" you replied, caught off guard.

"I was serious when I said I like you—scratch that, when I said I love you," he confessed, his tone grave.

Your heart began to race, but you fought against letting your guard down. "You're lying," you countered.

"I'm not," he insisted.

"No, you're literally lying," you shot back, refusing to give in easily.

"I'm not," he repeated firmly, his gaze unwavering.

"How could I believe you?" you challenged, skepticism coloring your tone.

"Believe me? Fine, I paid off your debt," he suddenly announced, catching you completely off guard.

"What?" you exclaimed, incredulous.

"Remember that guy you were hiding in the parking lot? The one that led to all of those... interactions?" he said, his smirk returning, much to your annoyance.

"Yeah, I know that," you replied irritably, cutting him off before he could mention the kiss.

"I did a background check on him and found out that little miss [reader's name] has a debt to him," he continued, his smirk widening, irritating you further.

"I'll just pay you back when I can," you said, attempting once more to close the gate, but Satoru didn't like that.

"If you close this gate, I'll triple the debt you need to pay me back," he threatened, his tone sending shivers down your spine. It was the first time he had been so intimidating.

"Don't forget how much debt you left," he added, reminding you of your past financial troubles.

Feeling like you had no choice, you reluctantly let go of the gate. "Good," he said when he noticed you giving up on closing it.

"What do you really want, Satoru?" you asked, frustration evident in your voice.

"I need a face-to-face explanation of that night," he answered firmly.

"And if I don't agree?" you questioned, dreading his response.

"Then I'll triple the debt you need to pay off," he said with a smirk, his threat reinforced by his control over your finances.

Damn him and his money. "Can we talk at the cafe? I have to wait for Megumi," you suggested, hoping to buy some time.

"There's no need to," he said, catching you off guard.

"Megumi's not here," he revealed, leaving you stunned.

"You killed him, didn't you?!" you shouted frantically, your mind racing with horrifying possibilities.

"Chill, why would I kill the kid when I'm his guardian?" he revealed, his words only adding to your surprised look.

You placed a strawberry croissant on the table before sitting down across from Satoru at the cafe.

Since it was a weekday with few customers, you seized the opportunity to talk to him, while he was already busy enjoying the croissant.

"I must say, it tastes good," he remarked between bites.

"Thanks, Megumi made it," you informed him.

"Really? He tells me he only makes coffee here, not pastries," Satoru commented.

"Let's get this over with," you said, wanting to dive into the conversation.

"Okay," Satoru agreed, wiping his mouth with a tissue. "Why did you leave that night?" he asked directly.

You sighed. "No, no. Why did you leave me alone in your bed?" you countered.

"I never left. I was in the bathroom," he revealed, surprising you. Wait, what?

"You were? Uhm..." You stumbled over your words, unsure how to respond.

"So, answer my question. Why did you leave me?" he pressed.

"I left that night because I thought you had left me after... after you just— I don't know— used my body," you confessed, looking at him earnestly.

"I didn't use your body. Did you forget that night how I kissed every inch of your body?" he asked with a straight face.

"You... didn't have to remind me of that," you replied, feeling your face flush with embarrassment.

"I just don't understand why everything I do for you doesn't seem appreciable to you," Satoru expressed his frustration.

You felt compelled to address the issue of Ayaka. "Everyone at that ball seemed so... expected to see you with Ayaka," you explained.

"Was it because of what that old man said?" he inquired.

"No, your cousin... he told me you two were childhood sweethearts. Everyone around you expected you to marry that girl, but instead, you brought me to that ball as your 'girlfriend,' and suddenly it feels like everyone paints me as the villain," you confessed, frustration evident in your voice.

Satoru listened attentively, letting out a sigh. "If we're talking about a villain here, it's Ayaka, not you," he reassured.

"Why would it be her?" you questioned, needing more clarity.

"Well, for starters, Tsumiki and Megumi hated her," he revealed, but you wanted more detailed information.

"Elaborate more—" you began, but before you could dig deeper into the topic, a customer entered the cafe, prompting you to unconsciously stand up and head to the cashier.

It felt like déjà vu, with Satoru watching you from the usual table while you attended to your duties.

Before you knew it, more customers arrived, causing you to forget about the conversation with Satoru.

Witnessing how hard you worked while managing the cafe alone, Satoru decided to lend you a hand.

As 10:00 pm approached, the cafe closed. Satoru watched as you counted the money, feeling nervous under his gaze.

You muttered the numbers, trying to speed through the counting process.

"By the way," you stopped counting and looked at Satoru, "where is Megumi?" you asked him.

"Can't we just have a day without mentioning his name?" he replied, annoyance evident in his tone. "I'm getting jealous, you know?" he added with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes. "I need to know. If he's still not here by tomorrow, then I'll just close the cafe for the day," you informed him firmly.

"He's visiting his sister. She's getting married," Satoru informed you. "He'll come back here by tomorrow," he added.

"Wait, Megumi's 25, so how old is she?" you asked.

"26," Satoru replied.

"Oh, she didn't get you to walk her down the aisle?" you teased, smirking at him.

Satoru sighed. "As much as I wanted to, she chose Megumi to walk her down the aisle," he admitted.

"I stayed here because Megumi literally begged me to stay," he bragged, causing you to roll your eyes as you secured the money.

"I think that's a different Megumi," you remarked dryly.

Not too long after, you closed the cafe, and you and Satoru began walking out onto the street. Despite wearing enough layers to keep warm, the cold still seeped through. "Cold," you muttered, not expecting him to hear.

"Here," he said, extending his hand towards you. You stared at him, puzzled. "What? Hold my hand so you can stay warm," he suggested.

"I don't think holding hands will be enough to warm me up," you replied skeptically.

"I can give you something more to warm you up," Satoru smirked, hinting at something suggestive. You rolled your eyes and were about to take his hand when suddenly you felt someone grope your butt. You flinched, and Satoru noticed, his protective instincts kicking in.

The guy who touched you continued walking as if nothing happened, but Satoru immediately pulled you behind him and called out to the guy, "Hey!" trying to catch his attention.

The guy turned around with an annoyed look. "What's your problem?" Satoru confronted him, his voice laced with anger.

The guy only chuckled. "What? It felt good," he said, his tone mocking.

Satoru's fist clenched at the guy's bold response, and without hesitation, he swung a punch, aiming for the guy's jaw. The blow landed with a solid thud, eliciting a grunt of pain from the guy.

"Stop it!" you shouted, rushing forward to try to intervene. But the guy, now furious, shoved you aside, causing you to stumble.

Satoru, fueled by rage, launched himself at the guy, grappling with him in a fierce struggle. Punches were exchanged, and the sound of grunts and impacts filled the air.

"Enough!" you cried out, attempting to pull Satoru away from the altercation. But he seemed lost in the heat of the moment, his focus solely on the guy who had dared to touch you.

Just when it seemed like the fight would escalate further, Satoru suddenly withdrew, his hand reaching for something at his waist. With lightning speed, he pulled out a gun, aiming it directly at the guy's face.

"Back off," Satoru growled, his voice cold and menacing. The guy's eyes widened in fear as he stumbled back, raising his hands in surrender.

The tension in the air was palpable as Satoru held the gun steady, his gaze unwavering. Finally, the guy turned and fled, disappearing into the night.

With a heavy breath, Satoru lowered the gun, the intensity of the moment slowly fading. You stood beside him, shaken by the sudden turn of events, but grateful for Satoru's protection.

You were about to hold his hand when Satoru turned around to you, quickly checking to see if you got hurt. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern evident in his eyes. It felt like déjà vu.

"Me? Shouldn't it be you? Look, your knuckles are bleeding," you pointed out.

"Oh, this? It's nothing," he brushed it off as if he were accustomed to such situations.

You shook your head, taking his hand in yours. "Let's go to my house. I'll treat your wounds," you insisted.

Before he could reply, you already began pulling him towards your house. The cafe wasn't far from your place, and you were determined to take care of him.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, seeing your pajamas—an oversized shirt and cotton shorts.

You sighed, realizing you had forgotten to wash your clothes, leaving you with no other option but to stick with this look.

Turning away from the mirror, you grabbed the first aid kit and headed to the living room.

As you stumbled into the living room, you froze at the sight of Satoru sitting on the couch, shirtless, engrossed in his phone.

"What the hell?" you blurted out, successfully catching his attention.

He glanced at you before tossing his phone aside and humming in response.

"Why are you shirtless?" you questioned, making your way toward him.

Satoru eyed you with a smirk before dramatically resting both elbows on the sofa's back.

"It's so hot, especially with you in front of me, princess," he teased.

You rolled your eyes, ignoring his comment as you sat beside him and began to open the first aid kit.

"Give me your hand," you instructed, holding out your own hand. Satoru complied, extending his hand towards you.

As you started treating his wound, you noticed how surprisingly quiet he was.

It was odd to see him so subdued, considering the circumstances.

You guessed he was probably used to getting into fights and sustaining wounds—a stark reminder of his dangerous lifestyle.

You didn't notice how intensely Satoru was staring at you while you attended to his wound.

It had been years since he had been this close to you.

He thought he had done everything right back then, but he never expected you to leave and erase all traces of your past together.

As you finished bandaging his hand and stood up to put the first aid kit away, Satoru swiftly grabbed onto your wrist, pulling you close.

Before you knew it, you were sitting on his lap, your legs encircling him.

You were taken aback by the sudden turn of events, about to speak, but what Satoru said next caught you off guard.

"Happy birthday," he said softly, a gentle smile spreading across his face, melting your heart.

You felt tears welling up as Satoru was the first person to greet you on your birthday, even as the day was coming to an end.

"How... Do you know it's my birthday?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Of course, I know. I'm in love with you. I know everything important to you," he replied, trying to make it sound sweet and romantic.

"That sounds like a stalker," you quipped, ruining the moment with your comment.

Satoru chuckled, but he sighed when you still hadn't returned the "I love you."

But he was willing to wait. He could say it a million times, even if you didn't say it back. He knew you'd return it someday.

You both stared at each other quietly, feeling the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air, reminiscent of times past.

"May I?" Satoru suddenly spoke, breaking the silence, and you snapped out of your thoughts, humming in reply.

"Kiss you?" he asked, his hand moving to your chin as his thumb gently caressed the bottom of your lips. It had been such a long time.

Instead of answering, you pulled him into a kiss, silently permitting him. Satoru didn't hesitate to respond, kissing you back with passion.

In that moment, everything felt right, and you wished it could stay that way forever.

"I thought you'd head back to Tokyo?" Megumi asked, annoyance evident in his tone, as he noticed Satoru at the coffee section preparing some coffee.

"Did I?" Satoru replied obliviously, seemingly unaffected by Megumi's irritation.

You could see the frustration in Megumi's eyes, ready to throw daggers at his guardian.

"We're fine here now, go back," Megumi instructed through clenched teeth, trying to maintain his composure.

"I don't want to," Satoru retorted, and you sighed, knowing this would escalate.

"Sorry, Megumi, I can't let him go," you apologized, trying to diffuse the tension.

"See, she needs me," Satoru declared proudly, his ego shining through.

"Yeah, since he attracts most of our new customers, so we really need him to sell some coffee," you explained, trying to be diplomatic.

"I thought you needed me because I'm good at it!" Satoru argued, his pride wounded.

"Yeah, you're good at attracting customers, that's all," you clarified, causing Satoru to sulk in the corner for at least a few minutes, his ego deflated.

You chuckled at his sulking behavior before heading over to him, offering to help him make the drinks.

As you worked side by side, showing him the ropes, you couldn't help but smile like an idiot whenever he made a mistake.

At that moment, you forgot about his status as one of the most dangerous men in the world. All you could see was him having fun, and it warmed your heart to see him enjoying himself.

It’s not even that long since you two talked again that your heart began to beat again just like it did 4 years ago.

A few days had passed since Satoru began helping out at the cafe, and you couldn't help but notice the significant changes.

More and more people were frequenting the cafe, eager to catch a glimpse of the infamous handsome "white-haired" guy.

You first noticed it when you took charge of the cashier while Megumi was on his break. Customers were stealing glances at Satoru, who was busy grinding coffee beans. Some even approached him to take pictures.

You had expected a few more customers after Satoru started helping out, but you never anticipated the inpouring people that now filled the cafe to the brim. Lines began forming outside as the cafe reached its capacity.

Even people from outside the countryside were making special trips just to see him.

It was clear that Satoru's presence had brought a newfound popularity to the cafe, and you couldn't help but feel both amazed and overwhelmed by the sudden attention.

You were deeply engrossed in calculating all the bills and expenses involved in managing the cafe when Megumi approached you.

"Hey, [Reader's Name]," he called out, and you responded with a distracted hum, still focused on your task.

"Look at this," Megumi said, showing you his phone.

You glanced at the screen to see a photo of Satoru serving a customer their order. It must have been taken on the day he first started helping out.

You squinted at the picture, trying to make out the details, but your attention was quickly drawn to the comments section below the photo.

People were raving about Satoru's appearance and charisma, expressing their excitement at having him at the cafe.

As you scrolled through the comments, you realized that this photo had garnered a lot of attention, with many users tagging their friends and making plans to visit the cafe themselves just to see Satoru in person.

‘OMG, who's the new guy at the cafe? 😍 He's so dreamy, I need to visit ASAP!’

‘Wow, the cafe just got a major upgrade! Can't wait to grab a coffee and maybe a date with the new cutie behind the counter! ☕️❤️’

‘I don't get what all the fuss is about. He's just another server, nothing special.’

‘Finally, some eye candy at the cafe! 😍 Who needs coffee when you have a sight like this to wake you up?’

‘Honestly, I'm not impressed. Looks like the cafe is trying too hard to attract customers with looks instead of focusing on quality drinks and service.’

It was clear that his presence had sparked a wave of interest and excitement, contributing to the cafe's newfound popularity.

As you scrolled through the comments, your eyes furrowed in annoyance at some of the hate comments directed towards the cafe and even your coffee.

"These people insulting my coffee," you muttered, your frustration evident.

Megumi stood beside you, watching you with concern, unsure of what you might do next.

Just as you were about to reply to one of the hate comments, Satoru suddenly snatched the phone from your hand.

"Damn, I looked good in this shot," he remarked casually as he looked at the photo, seemingly unfazed by the negative comments.

Satoru noticed the glare you directed at him.

"What? Am I that handsome?" he said, brushing his hair back with a smug grin.

"I don't care about your face, I care more about when people insult my coffee," you replied, frustration evident in your voice.

"Do they?" Satoru asked, seeming curious as he checked the comments.

You let out a sigh and returned to your calculations.

"Can I have my phone back?" Megumi interjected, feeling wary as Satoru held onto his phone.

Satoru glanced between you and the phone before suddenly shoving it into Megumi's chest. Luckily, Megumi managed to catch it.

"Hey!" he protested, but Satoru shushed him away, gesturing for him to go attend to his tasks.

Rolling his eyes, Megumi walked off to the storage room to check the products, leaving you and Satoru to deal with the situation.

As you were busy calculating, Satoru smirked and leaned in close to your ear, whispering, "But you make the best milk though." His sudden voice made you shiver, and you flinched away, squealing and covering your ear, cheeks flushing red.

Fortunately, it was closing time, and there were no customers around, just the two of you at the counter while Megumi was in the storage room.

Satoru gazed at you with an innocent smile that only seemed to annoy you further.

"You stupid!" you exclaimed, standing up abruptly and grabbing the papers you were calculating, along with the calculator.

You shoved them all towards Satoru before storming off to the storage room, leaving him there.

However, Satoru didn't quite interpret what you wanted him to do.

Instead of realizing you wanted him to help with the calculations, he took it as you handing him something to pay.

The next day, you were left confused when you received notifications that all your bills were paid, while Satoru stood in the corner, smiling innocently as he prepared drinks for the customers.

A couple of days later, after finishing some errands, you hurried back to the cafe to resume your duties. It was still 4 in the afternoon, and the chilly air urged you to quicken your pace.

Upon opening the door to the cafe, you were taken aback to see Megumi wearing an unpleasant expression as he conversed with a woman standing in front of him.

It was a sight you hadn't witnessed before, and it left you feeling puzzled.

Quickly approaching them, you intervened in their conversation. "Excuse me, is there a problem here?" you asked, addressing both of them and drawing their attention to you.

Megumi swiftly pulled you closer to him, his usually calm demeanor replaced by a defensive stance that you rarely witnessed.

"I'm asking you to leave right now, Ma'am," he asserted, his tone laced with a hint of anger as he glared at the woman before him.

The woman scoffed. "Oh, come on 'Gumi, you can't treat me like that when I spent a few years babysitting you and your sister," she retorted, her words dripping with disdain.

You found yourself caught in the middle of their exchange, confused by the tension and the sudden revelation of Megumi's past relationship with the woman.

"Megumi, what's happening?" you asked, still held close to him as he engaged in this heated exchange with the woman.

"Just don't move, wait for Gojo-san to come here," he instructed firmly, intending it for you, but the woman overheard.

"I need to talk to Satoru, why won't you just let me?!" the woman snapped, her frustration evident in her tone.

"You know full well why Gojo-san doesn't want to talk to you," Megumi stated firmly, his glare piercing.

Just then, Satoru appeared, grabbing the woman's arm as she attempted to retrieve something from her bag.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" he snapped, his voice laced with anger, and it was unsettling to witness him in such a furious state.

"I'm here trying to seek some answers as to why you won't accept the marriage?!" she shouted, her voice rising and drawing the attention of other customers.

Marriage?

Your mouth dropped open in shock at her revelation.

Satoru let out a frustrated tsk before speaking. "Will you stop, Ayaka? That was six years ago," he told her, his tone firm.

Your eyes widened as he mentioned her name. So, this was the Ayaka that everyone at the ball had been talking about.

As Megumi turned to you, attempting to guide you to the storage room, Satoru's eyes kept darting between the two of you.

Ayaka noticed this and became agitated. Without warning, she swiftly grabbed the gun from her bag and pointed it at you, her expression twisted with rage as she prepared to pull the trigger. But Satoru reacted swiftly.

“No!” He shouted as he seized her wrist and redirected the gun toward the ceiling just in time.

The deafening sound of the gunshot echoed through the cafe, causing you to shout in shock as you instinctively hid in Megumi's chest, while he did his best to calm you down.

As chaos erupted in the cafe, customers scrambled in panic, shouting and rushing to escape. Some knocked over chairs and tables in their haste to flee, leaving only the four of you behind.

Satoru grappled with Ayaka, struggling to wrestle the gun from her grip, determined to prevent her from pulling another trigger that could harm you or Megumi.

The tension in the air was palpable as the struggle unfolded, and you and Megumi stood frozen, watching with wide eyes, unsure of how to intervene in the dangerous confrontation.

Satoru succeeded in disarming Ayaka and swiftly restrained her, holding both of her wrists behind her back as she dropped to the floor with a groan of pain.

He knelt beside her, his voice laced with frustration and anger as he addressed her.

"You know what? I'm so fed up with you. The only reason I haven't hurt you is because of your family's reputation, which you've protected so fiercely. Not only did you try to hurt Tsumiki back then, but you also tried to hurt [reader's name]," he told her sternly, his tone cutting through the tension in the room.

Satoru makes Ayaka stand up to her feet, exchanging a brief, apologetic glance with Megumi and then with you.

It was as if he could sense the turmoil of thoughts running through your mind.

"Take care of her, Megumi. I'll deal with this situation," Satoru instructed, his voice firm as he indicated Ayaka.

With that, he led Ayaka out of the cafe, leaving you and Megumi to catch your breath in the aftermath of the tense encounter.

"I didn't really expect her to find this place," Megumi muttered, but his words barely registered with you as your mind raced with questions demanding answers.

"Uhm, [reader's name], should we—" Megumi began, but his words trailed off as he surveyed the chaos left by the fleeing customers, then turned to see you collapsed on the ground, breathing heavily.

Concern etched his features as he knelt beside you, attempting to calm you down, but at that moment, you felt as though you were in a world of your own, where only thoughts of Satoru occupied your mind.

Satoru didn't return to the cafe after you and Megumi had helped each other clean up the mess. You closed the cafe early due to the broken ceiling, sighing as you arranged for someone to come and fix it the next day.

With the cafe closed for repairs, you had no choice but to cancel business for the day.

After Megumi left an hour ago, you locked the doors of the cafe and were about to head home when you noticed Satoru standing, his back against the wall.

"Hey," he greeted as he approached you.

You scoffed before turning on your heels and walking away. Satoru, confused, hurried his pace to grab your wrist.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his concern evident in his voice. "It's nothing. Can you let go of my wrist?" you replied, avoiding eye contact.

"Don't tell me we're going back to being strangers again," he said, frustration creeping into his tone. Annoyed, you faced him. "What do you want me to do?" you asked.

"I want you to stop acting like a brat," he told you bluntly. You laughed sarcastically. "Me being a brat? My cafe was in chaos, Satoru, especially the ceiling because of that damn Ayaka," you told him.

"If that's all it is, I can pay for it," he said casually, as if money could solve everything. You groaned, hating the fact that he thought money was the answer to every problem.

"Fuck off! You're just going to add to the money I owe you," you frustratedly said, pulling your hands back.

You hurriedly left, not looking back as Satoru stood there alone, watching you disappear from his sight.

He let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair.

The cold night air bit at him, but it was nothing compared to the chill he felt from your words.

He knew he needed to find a way to bridge the gap between you, but right now, he felt lost.

As you were busy trying to calm yourself after all that chaos happened back in your cafe, you started feeling drowsy after watching a reality show for about 20 minutes.

Suddenly, you heard your doorbell, which confused you since you hadn’t heard it when you installed a gate last year.

You didn’t think much as you got out of the couch and headed to the door to open it.

As you opened the door, you were immediately surprised when someone pushed you inside, pinning you against the wall and successfully closing the door. You looked at the person to see it was Satoru.

"Satoru—" you tried to speak, but he cut you off.

"I hate it," he said. "I hate it when you ignore me and go back to acting as if we're strangers," he added, staring deeply into your eyes.

Satoru slowly leaned towards you, his intense gaze never wavering. "Do you really hate me that much?" he asked slowly, a hint of pain in his tone.

You didn't expect him to act like that, especially considering how prideful he usually is.

"It's not like that—" you tried to explain, but he interrupted you again.

"What do you want me to do to stop you from leaving?" he asked, his voice almost pleading.

You suddenly remembered the chaos earlier, wondering why Megumi hated Ayaka.

Satoru had only briefly mentioned it, but he didn't get the chance to explain further because of the sudden customers.

When Satoru noticed you not responding, he leaned in close, his hands on your waist, and softly kissed your collarbone.

"Tell me everything," you urged him.

"Like how did you find me here..." You paused as his hand moved up your thigh, dangerously close to your core, making you shut your thighs tight.

"And the story about why Megumi hates Ayaka," you managed to ask.

Satoru hummed as he patted your thigh, signaling you to lift it so he could carry you to the couch.

You quickly complied, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He gently laid you down and began placing soft kisses on your neck, his hand rubbing the outer lips of your clothed pussy.

You moaned softly, arching your back to give him better access to your collarbone.

"I always tried finding you when you disappeared," he began.

"I even threatened your boss to tell me your whereabouts or else I'd shut his place down," he added as you hummed, urging him to continue.

"But then, someone dropped your whereabouts."

"What?" you asked in a breathy tone, caught off guard.

"Fumiko, was it? Such a good friend for keeping your secret—until she wasn’t," he said, making your eyes widen.

"I guess she was tempted when I told everyone in that club to tell me where you were and I'd give them money. Seems like she was really desperate for it," Satoru continued.

His hand slowly removed your shorts, leaving you in your dark red panties, and you felt a flush of embarrassment.

Satoru chuckled when his eyes landed on the wet patch on your panties.

"It's been a while since I played with you," he said, talking to your pussy as if it were a person.

"Tell me more," you whined at him.

"I got Megumi to stay here and watch you," Satoru replied, his voice low and filled with intent.

"He'd give me updates on what you do." As he spoke, he began rubbing his two fingers against your pussy, moving them up and down to give attention to your clit and little hole.

You moaned softly, feeling the pleasure build.

"When I heard from Megumi that you were opening a shop, I insisted he join," Satoru added, his fingers still moving inside you.

That's why it was so weird to have Megumi that day, handing you a resume while dodging your suspicious look. It all made sense now.

You moaned louder, feeling a mix of frustration and pleasure. "So that's why," you managed to say, your voice breathy.

"You always had someone watching me."

Satoru leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "I couldn't bear to lose you again," he whispered, his fingers curling inside you just right, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

Just as you were getting close, Satoru pulled away, leaving you whining from the emptiness.

"Shh, I just want you to cum on my dick, not my fingers," he whispered.

He hastily opened his zipper and pulled out his erect cock, its tip covered in pre-cum. You drooled at the sight, making Satoru chuckle.

"You missed this, didn't you?" he asked, to which you hummed in reply. "Put it in," you quickly told him, eager for him to fill you up once again.

Since you were already wet enough for him, Satoru gently inserted his cock, careful not to hurt you, and held both of your knees as he began to give you deep thrusts, making you feel as if you see the stars.

"Oh my— Satoru!" you moaned loudly at the euphoric sensation. "So— fucking tight," he groaned, increasing the intensity of his thrusts.

"Ngh— 'Toru," you began speaking, trying to catch his attention.

Suddenly, Satoru grabbed your wrist and pulled you, making you sit on top of him as he sat on the couch. You moaned lightly at the feeling of his cock.

"Give me a ride, angel, while I tell you more," Satoru said, putting his hand on your waist and helping you move. You moaned lightly in response.

"Ayaka and I were supposed to get married. We were fine until I came back to the apartment with Megumi and Tsumiki," Satoru spoke.

Even though you had your eyes closed, you nodded at what he was saying while riding his cock.

"I didn't know it would be the start of how Ayaka showed her true colors. She doesn't like Megumi and Tsumiki one bit.

I hated how I ignored them when they constantly told me how Ayaka acted differently toward them," he said.

"Like what?" you asked, stuttering from all the pleasure you were receiving.

"Like getting mad at them over small things. What I hated the most was when I left them alone with Ayaka. I didn't know that would be the day Ayaka would try to stab Tsumiki with a kitchen knife," Satoru told you.

You felt a sense of empathy for him. It must have been hard knowing the person you were supposed to marry was like that.

"But on the bright side, if that didn't happen, I would not have met you," he said with a smug expression as he began to control your pace in riding him.

You tried not to cum yet, pushing his hands away from your waist.

"I-I don't want to cum yet," you told him, moaning loudly as you clenched around him, trying to suppress your impending orgasm.

A deep groan left Satoru's mouth as he felt you clenching around him, making his cock twitch inside you.

"C'mon, princess, cum," he urged you, throwing a bunch of pet names your way. But you shook your head, unable to form a coherent reply amidst your moans.

Sensing your desire for him to take control, he gently stopped, allowing you to lay back as he got on top of you.

"Just stay still, princess," he said, his breath heavy as he began thrusting faster. You moaned louder, wrapping your hand around his back, scratching lightly in your ecstasy.

Satoru didn't complain about the scratches; instead, he whispered sweet reassurances in your ear, encouraging you to let go.

It was as if the only thing that mattered to him was that you reached your peak. Just before you climaxed, he whispered those three words you'd been waiting to hear:

"I love you." And with that, you came around him, clenching so hard that Satoru moved to your neck, lightly biting enough to leave a bruise.

Satoru paused, his breath still heavy as he lifted himself to look at you.

Tears still lingered in your eyes from the intense orgasm.

He tenderly wiped them away, his expression softening. But before he could speak, you surprised him by saying those three words back to him.

"I love you too."

#gojo x reader #jjk gojo #jjk #gojo angst #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu satoru #gojo smut #satoru smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk megumi #jujutsu megumi #satoru gojo #gojo satoru

102 notes · View notes

dreamcubed · 9 hours

Text

it's nice to have a friend | theodore nott x reader

song; it's nice to have a friend [taylor swift] pairing; theodore nott x fem!wallflower!muggle-born!reader genre; s2l, angst, hurt comfort, fluff word count; 7,8k timeline; subsidiary 8th year warnings; swearing, reference to incestual rape, anxiety, nightmares, daddy issues, mommy issues, smoking, abusive mother, abusive grandfather, attachment issues, references to theo's mum's death, references to sex summary; elusive and unknown, you slunk along the walls of hogwarts without ever being noticed. that was, until, a boy who everybody knew spotted you

sorry i'm just so obsessed with the idea of a muggle-born who comes back to hogwarts after being in hiding atm

masterlist

"feels like home, stay in bed the whole weekend."

————————————————

Who was Y/N L/N?

Many would frown at that question, saying that they had no idea who that was, even if they had shared a vast number of classes with you throughout the years. Some others would pause, and ponder, as the name rung a bell but they just could not put a face to it. The rare few would answer, "Oh, I know her! Never heard her talk though." And that was all there was to it, really.

You had flown under the radar for many years— which had been enormously useful when you had to go into hiding as a muggle-born— but you weren't exactly a nobody. You were the girl at the back of class, who always had a hood over your head, always had dark circles around your eyes: a mixture of eye bags and your smudged days-old black eyeliner. The girl who disappeared after class for a cigarette out of the window of an abandoned part of the castle. The girl who was almost never at meals— at least not at the typical times.

You were an enigma to anyone who actually knew you, which essentially only included your dorm mates. They had tried to befriend you initially, but you were distant and asocial: they were still friendly with you, but they had learned not to push or pry. Thankfully, none of them had taken it personally.

But being so unknown had been incredibly useful while you were in hiding from Voldemort. It was unlikely he knew you existed— nor would anyone he interrogated about existing muggle-borns and their whereabouts. Thus, you returned to Hogwarts after his defeat for the subsidiary eighth year completely unharmed. You hadn't changed at all in the time, apart from a few more piercings, tattoos and freshly dyed hair.

It felt surreal being able to sit on the window sill of your favourite castle smoke spot again, as no matter how little friends you had at Hogwarts, you felt peaceful there. You had missed it sorely.

Taking a drag from your cigarette, you held the harsh smoke within your lungs and gazed at the cloudy view of Scotland, feeling tranquil. That was, until, you heard footsteps, which made you freeze. You internally prayed that it was neither a professor nor a prefect— but this part of the castle was abandoned, and it wasn't even close to curfew yet, so you didn't see how it could be. Cautiously, you peered around as the footsteps came to a halt, to see a Slytherin boy from your year pausing as he caught sight of you with a cigarette in hand.

Theodore Nott. Everyone knew who he was, including you, and because of that you let relief wash over you: he wouldn't snitch, you were pretty sure that he smoked himself.

He tilted his head at you, clearly with no recognition in his eyes.

"This is my smoke spot," he said simply, hands in his pockets. He had discovered the spot the year prior, when his smoking had become a serious habit, partially due to the depressing atmosphere that the war created.

You stared at him, not saying a word.

"Who are you?"

Releasing a sigh, you turned back to face the view, "Y/N L/N. And I came here long before you, Nott."

You felt the burn of his gaze on your back, and then heard him move closer to you until he sat next to you on the large windowsill. "You know who I am."

"We only had classes together for six years."

He seemed to mull over those words for a few moments. "I've never seen you before."

"Not many have," you shrugged, taking another long toke of your cigarette.

Nott didn't have a response for that, instead pulling out his baccy pouch and beginning to roll. You weren't necessarily happy about the intrusion on your alone time, but you didn't own that windowsill, and you weren't about to waste the rest of your cigarette.

Eventually, once he had lit up his own, he spoke again, "You're a muggle-born."

You quirked an eyebrow, which he probably couldn't see under your hood, but he explained how he knew regardless.

"That's why I never saw you here- at this spot- last year."

Nodding in confirmation, you breathed out smoke, watching as it dissipated into the breeze. The two of you settled into silence as you smoked, which you found to be an immense relief. You didn't like talking, you didn't like people knowing things about you. You weren't shy, like your dorm mates thought, you had just learned throughout your life that saying too much had negative consequences.

Finally, your cigarette burned to the filter, and you put it out next to you before flicking it out the window. You stood up and looked at Nott, who was still smoking, unsure of how to end the peculiar interaction.

"I would say you'll see me around, but no one ever does," you finally said, shoving your hands in your pockets and leaving without waiting for a reply. You hadn't said it in an attention-seeking self-pitying way— you had stated it nonchalantly, as it was a fact.

Nott watched you curiously as you disappeared.

***

The next morning, instead of going to breakfast, you went straight to your smoke spot. You never ate in the mornings, it didn't sit right with your stomach. Only, when you climbed the last step to the abandoned tower, you saw that it was already occupied by the same Slytherin from yesterday. His gaze flicked to you as he heard your approach.

As much as you wanted to just turn around and find another smoke spot, you didn't have enough time before your first lesson, and your nicotine addiction needed satiating. So, reluctantly, you took a seat on the windowsill and began rolling as Nott puffed away next to you.

"Good morning," he said as you glided your tongue along the paper.

You glanced up, muttering a, "Morning," before focusing on your cigarette again.

"Are you in my DADA?" he asked.

You gave a curt nod: it was your first lesson back that day.

He hummed absently, putting his cigarette out, but not moving from where he was sat. You said nothing on the matter, hoping to Merlin that he wasn't waiting for you in order to walk to the lesson together.

You began reaching around in your pockets for your lighter, cursing when you couldn't find it. Just as you were about to pull out your wand as a substitute, Nott was holding a lighter out towards you. You narrowed your eyes at him: you used a lighter out of the habit you had developed while living as a muggle the last year, but why would he use one?

As if sensing your confusion, he supplied your answer, "It's more satisfying."

It was strange to see a pure-blood who wasn't against anything and everything muggle, but you accepted his lighter, a strange sensation washing over you as you did so. It felt like you had just made an oath of some sort, agreed to something you didn't know the terms of— like something had now been sealed between the two of you. Pushing that thought aside, you took your first drag, letting the familiar contentment that nicotine provided take over you.

"Thanks," you murmured, handing the lighter back to him.

There was nothing but silence as you smoked, not another word said even as you finished and went to stand up. He stood up, too, and it was then that your fears were confirmed: he was going to walk with you to the lesson. You supposed it was probably just politeness, but Nott had never struck you as someone who cared about that sort of thing. He, like the other Slytherin boys, was known for his quick temper and rude disposition. But for all you knew he could have changed in the year that you were gone.

You didn't ask— you seldom asked questions, no matter how curious you were. Instead, you allowed him to walk alongside you without complaint, subconsciously adjusting the bag strap on your shoulder.

When you reached the classroom without having exchanged a word, Nott's friends— Riddle and Zabini— approached and greeted him. They didn't notice you, which was expected, so you took the opportunity to slink away to your seat at the back of class. You felt Nott's eyes linger on you as you went, but paid no mind to it, refusing to turn around and look at him.

The professor called attention to the room.

"From what I understand, you all made contact with a boggart back in third year," she began, "Obviously it has been sometime, and in order to ease you back into Defence Against the Dark Arts after learning the Dark Arts, I think it would be a good idea to revisit some basics."

There were murmurs of fear and excitement as she pulled forward a cupboard, much like the one from third year.

"Everyone, form a queue," she said, "Do you remember the charm to counteract a boggart?"

Hermione Granger's hand instantly shot up, and the professor gestured for her to answer.

"Riddikulus."

"Excellent!" she smiled, "Let's begin, shall we?"

You had taken a position in the middle of the queue, and watched as the first people faced their fears and turned them into something ridiculous. Laughter began rippling throughout the classroom, and you even felt your lips curving up ever so slightly. But, when it came to your turn, your face went completely solemn.

You watched as what had been a massive snake from the previous person morphed into a reflection of yourself: only, it wasn't you. You would never wear such a glamorous and expensive dress, and you would never have such a wide smile on your face as flashing cameras surrounded you. Clenching your jaw, you watched as boggart-you waved and posed for the cameras, and raised your wand.

"Riddikulus," you murmured, and the scene before you unfolded with boggart-you slipping on a banana peel and tearing her dress. Laughter boomed from behind you, and you quickly walked away to the back of the classroom as the next student had their go.

It wasn't long before it was Nott's turn, and for some reason you found yourself paying more attention than you had before. Your eyes followed his movements as the boggart took the form of an older man, who had a stern look on his face. He seemed familiar, and it only took you a few moments to realise that you had seen him in the Daily Prophet after the war. It was Tiberius Nott, a death eater who had been sent to Azkaban for life after Voldemort's defeat— also Theodore Nott's father.

Nott remained emotionless as he faced his father, refusing to react as he raised his wand and muttered the spell. Then, Tiberius Nott was suddenly wearing clown attire, quickly becoming the next laughingstock of the class. Theodore Nott left the front of the queue and came around to the back where you were while Riddle faced the boggart.

"You're afraid of being popular," he stated as he stood beside you.

"You're afraid of your father," you replied— not as an insult, just as a fact.

"Fathers are terrifying when they're death eaters."

You shrugged, "I don't know mine."

Nott eyed you curiously, as he didn't know what to make of you. Not that anyone really did. Before he could saying else, Riddle was walking towards the both of you. It was of no surprise that he didn't acknowledge you, likely not even noticing you stood there beside his best friend. That was how you liked it, so you moved your attention away from their conversation and watched as Zabini approached the boggart.

When he finished and joined his friends, you heard Riddle ask, "Wanna go for a fag after this?"

Nott agreed easily, whereas Zabini declined.

"L/N," your eyes widened, and you snapped your head in Nott's direction, "You coming?"

"Coming where?" you knew what they were talking about.

"For a smoke," Nott tilted his head towards the door, "After this lesson."

You watched in horror as Riddle and Zabini's eyes settled on you in confusion and lack of recognition, despite the fact a celebrity version of you had just been displayed to the whole class. But, you supposed, celebrity you didn't resemble your natural state all that much.

"No, thanks."

He raised an eyebrow at you, as if he believed that you would definitely be going for a cigarette after the lesson, just not with the Slytherin boys.

The professor called for everyone to sit down as the last person finished with the boggart, and as the three boys walked away from you, you heard Riddle mutter, "Who the fuck is that?" to his friends. With a sigh, you took your seat and got out some parchment, hoping that the interaction wouldn't be the trigger for everyone in the school knowing who you were.

But, had you ever been lucky?

***

It horrified you how easily Nott could spot you in a crowd, as it wasn't something you were used to— in fact, it was something that you had purposefully avoided. But that was no more, as when you entered the Great Hall for dinner, at the usual time as everyone else for once (your hunger had dictated that), he had made eye contact with you and gestured for you to come sit with him. Immediately, you shook your head: you weren't there to make friends, and you weren't about to sit on the Slytherin table as a muggle-born.

When his friends turned to see who he was beckoning over, they scanned the area you were in without their eyes ever landing on you. Not even Zabini or Riddle, who had seen you the other day, noticed you stood by the entrance. So, why was Nott different?

You took the opportunity to take a seat at the Ravenclaw table with your back to the Slytherins, not wanting to further engage. You had experienced more than enough socialisation for a lifetime in the last week, in your opinion. It was probably at least once every couple of days that you happened to venture to the tower smoke spot at the same time as Nott, and part of you wanted to find a new place. Alas, you had developed an attachment to that tower, and the views were remarkably soothing, so you hadn't.

It was why you didn't bother to move when Nott arrived to see you sat on the window sill that evening, after you had disregarded him at dinner.

"Are you really so scared of making friends?" he asked from behind you.

"Why do you care?" you scoffed.

"You intrigue me."

"Forget about me, Nott. I prefer it that way."

He chuckled, "I think forgetting you is impossible."

You clenched your fist, "Why would you want to associate with a mudblood?"

"I don't give a shit about blood purity, L/N," he said, accidentally dropping his lighter. You heard him curse under his breath in Italian, before looking at you again. "Can I ask why?"

"Why what?" you grumbled, taking a puff from your cigarette.

"Why do you keep to yourself?"

You assessed his intentions cautiously, debating how much information you should give him. Eventually, all you said was, "Saying too much has consequences. If people know too much about you, they use it against you."

"Who's they?"

"Everyone."

He shook his head, "But, it's not, though, is it? Who gave you such a warped perception of reality?"

"It may not be your reality, but it's mine."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"Why should I tell you?"

Nott shrugged, "I'm just trying to understand you."

"Well, stop trying."

"I won't," he said simply, "But if you're worried about me having something on you, I'll tell you about me so we're even."

"Please don't."

"My mother died when I was quite young," he began, against your will, "Which left me to my father, who you are familiar with."

"Are you looking for pity?"

"No, I don't want your pity," he scowled, "I told you why I'm telling you. Stop being dense."

You frowned at his words.

"Where my mother was sweet and loving, my father was anything but," he explained, "Physically abusive, literally a death eater, punished me if I ever cried."

You focused your eyes on to your cigarette, ashing it with a tap of your finger.

"I won't let him dictate my life. No matter how much I feel like I'm just as bad as him, I can't let it get in the way of having friends and a decent life."

"You're not your father," you said quietly, unsure as to why you were still entertaining this conversation.

"How would you know?"

"Because you're talking to me."

He hummed softly, "So, there, you know about me. You know something I hardly even talk about with my closest friends. Tell me about you."

You thought about it for a couple minutes, mulling over whether or not you should finally share what has hung over you your entire life. Nott remained silent as you finished your cigarette and fought an internal war within yourself. Eventually, you spoke.

"My grandfather abused me when I was young," you said quietly, "Whenever he visited, whenever I went 'round to his. In the night, he would come into my room and-" you cut yourself off.

Nott said nothing, regarding you cautiously.

"He told me not to tell. Not to say a word," you finally continued, "But I told my mum one day, because I was bleeding..." you gestured down to your crotch.

"She didn't believe you?" he asked, his tone gentle.

You chuckled, "Of course not. I tried to ask her to look, to prove that I was bleeding. She wouldn't. Said her father would never do such a thing."

"Sounds like denial."

"I'd bet my life he did the same to her when she was young, and she's blocked it out. That seeing it on me would have brought back memories that she's so desperately shut out."

He nodded.

"She told my grandfather what I'd accused him of, and my life became hell right until I got the letter inviting me to Hogwarts."

"And that's why you think telling people anything is a bad idea."

With a sigh, you stood up, "All honesty and closeness brought me was pain and suffering."

"You've just been honest with me."

"Rowena knows why," you muttered.

"You can't let him haunt you forever."

"He's still alive," you said simply, pinning your eyes on to his face, "Don't tell anyone about this."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

And, strangely, you believed him.

***

After trusting Nott with your life story, you had found a new smoke spot: it didn't have the views or tranquility of the abandoned tower, but it didn't have anyone else either. You saw him in class, and occasionally at meals, and he would always lock eyes with you and give a nod as greeting. Sometimes you returned it, sometimes you didn't. But before long, a couple months had passed, and you were quite secure in the knowledge that he hadn't told anyone your secret nor was he going to use it against you.

You didn't hesitate in signing up to stay at Hogwarts over Christmas, not wanting to face your family. When Voldemort's return had been confirmed, both your mother and grandfather— as your apparent two closest relatives— had been obliviated and sent abroad. Once he was defeated, they were found and given back their memories of you, but you hadn't gone to see them. Instead, you had stayed at Hogwarts over the Summer, helping to rebuild what had been destroyed during the battle. And now, you weren't sure if you could ever go back home. You hadn't seen either of them in years, and had become quite content with the lack of danger over the Summer holidays.

It was the first day of the castle being almost empty, and you made your way down to the Great Hall for lunch. Only one of the house tables was laid with food: the Gryffindor one. It would have been a waste to lay any more tables with so few students present.

You noticed that Nott was sat at the table, and when he saw you enter (the only one who saw you, that was), he gestured for you to sit near him. Maybe it was because he wasn't surrounded by his friends this time, or maybe it was because the food was only on one small section of the table, but you sat opposite him.

"How've you been?" he immediately asked.

Shrugging, you put some sandwiches on your plate, "Same as always."

"You stopped coming to the tower."

You sighed, "I like to smoke alone."

He pursed his lips, but changed the subject, "What are you doing on Christmas day?"

An incredulous look swept across your face, "Same as everyone here."

Nott rolled his eyes, "Even the people who are here open gifts with each other."

"I doubt I'll get any gifts."

"That makes two of us," he replied, "Do you want to do something on Christmas day together?"

"Why?" you frowned at him, "Surely Riddle is here."

He shook his head, "He spends Christmas with the Malfoys. They're cousins, y'know." At your raised eyebrow, he added, "On his mum's side."

"Regardless, I told you I'm not interested in friends."

"There is no obligation of friendship here," he raised his hands up in mock surrender, "You can never talk to me again after these holidays."

Taking in a deep breath, you said, "Fine."

He smiled at you, and you couldn't help but notice how soft and non-threatening he looked with such an expression. It was a rare sight on him.

***

Apparently he had taken your agreement to spend Christmas day with him as an agreement to spend the entire holidays together. Nott joined you for studying in the library, and followed you to your new smoke spot, making you sigh and decide at that point you might as well return to your preferred abandoned tower. He didn't talk a lot of the time, just sat in companionship with you, and you found yourself getting irritated. Not at him, but at the fact you were beginning to feel comfortable in his presence, and experience the urge to seek him out on occasion. It was a foreign feeling: one that you had never allowed yourself to come close to.

But you weren't sure if you wanted to stop it any longer.

The bubble you had become wrapped up in shattered one day when Professor McGonagall, the headmistress, found you in the library and informed you that you had visitors. You looked worriedly over at Nott, realising that for the first time in your life, you didn't want to face a situation alone. Because you had a sneaking suspicion of who it might be.

You stood up, and Nott did too. For once, you were grateful that he was following you around without your permission. McGonagall assessed that you were okay with him coming along, and led the both of you to her office, where you found yourself fidgeting with your fingers as the stairs rose up. Nott placed his hand on yours and squeezed gently before pulling away again, an action so soft and without malice that you damn near broke down on the spot.

Moments later, your fears were confirmed: your mother and grandfather stood before you. They had smiles on their faces, but they looked so forced that you felt sick to your stomach. Subconsciously, you shifted closer to Nott, who had straightened his back and let his typical resting bitch face fall upon him— one of arrogance and threat. McGonagall hadn't come in with you, saying that they wanted to speak with you alone. That was when you had said that Nott was going in with you or you weren't going in.

"Y/N, it's been so long, darling," your mother spoke, making bile rise to your mouth. You swallowed quickly, not returning her smile.

"Why didn't you come home for Christmas?" your grandfather asked, taking a step towards you. Instinctively, you stepped back. He paused and frowned, "We haven't seen you in years, but it's finally safe, is it not?"

It's never safe with you. That's what you wanted to scream, but no words came out.

"We've missed you," your mother added, also taking a step forward. You felt so small in front of them, like you were once again that heartbroken six year old who had just discovered that no one was there for her.

"And who's this?" your grandfather asked, surveying Nott cautiously.

"Theodore Nott," the boy replied through gritted teeth.

"Is this your-?"

You cut your mother off by asking, "Why are you here?"

"We've come to take you home," your grandfather said with a grin that was clearly meant to appear jovial, but to you symbolised the devil's incarnate.

"No," you said as firmly as you could, but your tone held a quiver.

The smile dropped from your grandfather's face, and he turned to Nott once more, "May we have a moment alone?"

"Not a chance," the boy instantly replied, crossing his arms. He was a lot taller than your grandfather.

That was when the eyes of your grandfather darkened to their usual state, and your mother's mouth settled into a grim line.

"I don't know what she's told you," the former spoke, "But none of it is true, she was a very imaginative child-"

Nott cut him off with a scoff, "No child who's had a normal childhood imagines such fucked up things."

Your eyes widened in disbelief at Theo's (when had you started thinking of him as Theo?) bluntness.

"My father would never do such a thing," your mother immediately cut in, "These allegations are extreme and unjust."

"I'm not coming home with you," you said, changing the subject.

"I am your mother," she said curtly, "And you are my child."

"I am an adult now."

You watched as she took a deep breath, "Y/N, we are family. Christmas is for family."

"I never want to see either of you again," you said quietly, your voice feeling separate from your body.

"We should have never let her go here," your grandfather said to your mother, "Her delusions have only been fed."

"The only delusions around here are yours," Theo said sternly, "I think it's best that you leave."

"This is none of your business, boy," the old man before you growled, taking strides towards him. In a flash, Theo had pulled out his wand and held it towards him, causing him to back up out of fear.

"I'd watch your mouth, if I were you. Y/N's welfare is every bit my business as it was meant to be yours."

Your relatives said nothing.

"I believe that everything that needed to be said has been said," he continued, "So we will be leaving. If you try to contact her in any way, shape or form again, I won't hesitate to use dark magic on you."

And with that, Theo wrapped his free arm around you and guided you back to the exit. Only once the door behind you was closed and the stairs were lowering did you realise that your entire body was trembling. All you could think to do was murmur a "thank you" towards Theo, who stroked your arm gently.

Once you reached the bottom, you were faced with McGonagall, who had a deathly serious look about her. You broke down, collapsing to the floor as tears and sobs that you had suppressed for years bubbled to the surface and shook your body violently.

"Get them out of here," Theo said to her, crouching down beside you and taking you into his arms. You accepted the embrace, having not felt one in years, and cried into his chest.

The headmistress nodded, scanning over you one last time.

"I'll take care of her," Theo muttered, and that was all the woman needed to head up the stairs with a look of fury that could ignite nations. You didn't know what she had made of the situation, but she had evidently decided that she didn't like your family. "C'mon," he murmured, helping you up and guiding you in a direction you were too bleary-eyed to register.

Your sobs escalated as the two of you walked, and finally you realised that you were heading down to the dungeons. You heard him say the password to the door before you were led into the Slytherin common room of black and green. He didn't stop there, however, instead taking you down further stairs to where the dormitories were.

It wasn't long before you found yourself curled up on his bed, the other beds in the dorm vacant for Christmas. You rocked back and forth, gripping your knees tightly.

Theo shushed you softly, sitting next to you and pulling you into his side.

"It's okay, angel, you're safe now," he whispered, "I won't let anything happen to you."

"You-" you hiccuped, "-promise?"

"I promise. You never have to see them again."

"P- Pinkie promise?" you held up your pinkie to him, and that was when Theo saw in your eyes that a part of you had never grown out of infancy.

He kissed your head, hooking his finger around yours, "Pinkie promise."

***

Numerous nightmares followed after that day— flashbacks and memories that you had blocked out catching up to you and forcing you to re-live it all. The first night, you pushed through, staying awake after waking yourself up and sobbing under your sheets until the sun came up. You didn't tell Theo why you were so exhausted when he questioned it, showing concern for you, as you didn't want to worry him. But, the second night, when you nervously drifted off and your demons returned, you snapped awake only wanting Theo.

With tears streaming down your face, you crawled out of bed and pulled on your Ravenclaw jersey, before creeping down the dormitory stairs and into the common room. There weren't many people that you could have woken up, but you really didn't want anyone seeing you in your current state. Taking a deep breath, you pushed open the tower door and left, ignoring the statue's questions of where you were headed.

It was a long trip to the Slytherin dungeons from the Ravenclaw tower, and you almost ran into Filch— luckily, you heard him from around the corner and hurriedly went a different direction. Since you were only wearing socks, your footsteps were soundless.

When you reached the portrait into Slytherin, you paused for a moment as you prayed that the password hadn't changed since he took you there two days prior. "Sonoros," you murmured to the painting, which gave you a disapproving look but reluctantly opened the door for you to enter. You scurried in, relieved to see no one was in the common room, and made your way up to the boys' dormitories. When you landed on the eighth years' floor, you pushed open the door and padded over to Theo's bed.

He was sleeping deeply, his remarkably attractive face almost glowing in the moonlight. The sight of someone sleeping reminded you of your night terrors, and more sobs choked out of you, causing you to lurch forward and shake Theo.

"Hmmph?" he grumbled, forcing his eyes open. When he saw you stood beside his bed with puffy cheeks and shaking limbs, he jolted awake. "Principessa, what happened?"

"I had a-" you hiccuped, "-a nightmare."

His gaze softened, and he lifted up the forest green bedsheets to beckon you in. Obliging, you curled up against his warmth and nuzzled your face into his neck. He didn't ask what you dreamt of, instead asking, "Is this why you didn't sleep last night?"

You nodded against him, and he sighed.

"You should have told me," he mumbled, stroking his hand through your hair. And then he talked you softly into a sweet dreamless sleep wrapped in his embrace, feeling safer than you had ever before felt.

***

At dinner the next day, Theo observed you as you picked at your food, clearly nervous about what that night had in store for you.

"Do you want to stay with me again tonight?" he asked, a question which made your eyes open wide.

"Uh..."

"You can stay with me all holiday, if you'd like."

"I..." your instinctive response was to put up your defences, and distance yourself from proximity with any individual. But, you felt the words of rejection get caught in your throat, and realised that there was a new instinct within you fighting with the old one. The part that was attaching itself to Theo, and firming itself into an iron grip that wouldn't let go now that it had finally found something to grasp on to. As the man in question gazed into your eyes, trying to read your body language, you realised that a suppressed part of you had surfaced— and you weren't sure that it could be locked away ever again. "Yes, please," were the words that finally came out: they were quiet, and felt foreign, but they were all you had to offer.

He gave you a soft smile: not the devilish smirk you had seen him give other girls from a distance, seen him use whenever he won a fight. No, it was genuine, with teeth and all. You were smiling back before you could stop yourself.

Theo eyed you curiously, "I've never seen you smile before."

Your breath hitched, "I'm not sure I've ever smiled before."

***

What commenced was a domestic routine. You kept pyjamas and some clothes in Theo's dorm, and you would brush your teeth together. Then, you would get into his bed, waiting until he beckoned for you to curl up to him. At first, you had been awkward about it, but it quickly became an instantaneous act of muscle memory. Theo felt and smelt like home— home. You had never felt at home before, and you certainly had never expected it to be with a person rather than a place. For the longest time, you had assumed that home would be the place you got for yourself after finishing Hogwarts.

Christmas Day started with a snowstorm in the middle of the night, one that had you waking up at dawn to see the layers of white outside the window. The holiday had never been a good day for you: mainly one of loneliness and a lack of gifts. You weren't materialistic, you didn't care about the presents, but that didn't mean you weren't envious of everyone going home to loving families.

But, that Christmas, you awoke in the warmth of Theo's arms, with a sense of peacefulness fulfilling you. His gentle breathing soothed you as he hugged you from behind, and for a while you remained like that, looking out the window at the snow and relishing in Theo's presence. When had he crept his way through your barriers? When had you started allowing it to happen?

"Buon Natale, principessa," you eventually heard him say from behind you, his deep morning voice sending a shiver up your spine.

"Buon Natale," you mimicked, making him smile into your neck.

"That means Merry Christmas," he murmured.

You chuckled softly, "I figured."

"I got something for you," he said, rolling on to his back, which made you turn over to face him.

"You did?"

He hummed, "It's nothing big."

"I got something for you too," you replied, knowing that there was a vinyl sat in your satchel across the room, which you had put in there on an offhand thought that Theo might like it.

"Should we exchange presents before or after Christmas dinner?"

"Before," you said immediately, "I haven't opened a present in years. I'm not waiting any longer."

"Okay, but can we stay in bed a little longer? È così caldo."

Those terms you could easily agree to— even finding yourself smiling fondly at his Italian. It always slipped out more when he was sleepy.

When had you come to know his habits so well?

***

"Merry Christmas," Theo grinned, handing a large velvet box to you as you sat cross-legged on his bed.

"What is it?" you asked cautiously, carefully popping open the lid only to have your breath taken away. A white gold necklace rested before you, with blue sapphires shining on the pendant that hung from it.

At your speechlessness, Theo explained, "It was my mother's. I thought you should have it."

"I can't take this," you said quickly, "It's a family heirloom."

He shrugged, "Then consider yourself as keeping it safe until I have a daughter."

"Is this your way of ensuring I stick around?" you chuckled.

"Maybe. Is that bad?"

You shook your head, "Thank you. It's so pretty— puts my gift to shame."

"Cara mia, it is not about the cost."

With a sigh, you got up and went over to your satchel, pulling out the vinyl that you had treasured and loved for so many years. "It's not much, but I thought you might like it."

You handed the album to him.

"What is it?"

"It is a vinyl. What muggles play music from."

His lips parted in understanding. "You will have to teach me how to use it."

"I will," you agreed, feeling like what you had actually agreed to was being around forever.

"Thank you," he said, "Would you like to try the necklace on?"

"When I'm dressed. I must do it justice."

Theo chuckled.

***

One thing you had to admit was that Theo's dead eyes sent a shiver up your spine: you felt it as he put the necklace on you, his warm hands a contrast to the cold of the metal as he did up the clasp. You were dressed up for Christmas dinner— not impressively so, but nicer than you normally did. For once, you had foregone your hoodie, and properly cleansed your face of your makeup before doing it again. Maybe the motivation for it had been Theo in the room, but ultimately, you felt quite calm.

"Sei bella," he murmured, and you knew enough Italian to know what bella meant.

You suppressed a smile, admiring his attire of dress trousers and a shirt. He lacked a tie, and the top buttons were undone— topped with his rolled up sleeves, he looked divine.

"Let's hope the dinner isn't too boring," he chuckled, "But, either way, we can have a smoke after."

"Sounds like heaven," you said, turning around to look up at his gorgeous face. A few weeks ago, you would never have let yourself find someone attractive: in your head that was as good as an attachment to someone. Yet, here you were, knowing that your soul had grasped on to Theo's and would never let go. You still had your hesitancies, but they were being overrode by your intense craving for affection.

"Should we go down?" you asked, glancing at the clock on the wall.

He hummed, "Just one more thing."

"What?"

His thumb and pointer finger delicately touched your chin, and your blood pressure skyrocketed when he leant down and pressed a quick kiss to your lips. "I couldn't resist."

You were rendered speechless— was that what a kiss was supposed to feel like? Magical, willing, heart-fluttering?

"Shall we, amore mio?"

"We shall," you smiled, accepting his extended hand.

***

The dinner was as boring as Theo had predicted, with the expected speech from McGonagall and then everyone falling into separate conversations. However, the delicious food was the saving grace, and you ate more than your stomach could handle, as well as drank a few glasses of red wine which had been provided for the professors and the adult students.

But, the highlight of your day was when you and Theo smoked in the usual tower spot, remaining in a soothing silence as you watched the snow fall.

"Can we build a snowman?" you asked, putting out your butt on the stone wall.

He quirked an eyebrow at you, "Why?"

"I've never built one," you muttered, wanting to rekindle the childhood joy that you had never truly experienced.

"Well, then, I hope you've got thick gloves."

***

"He's so ugly," you commented, staring at the snowman before you. He had a carrot on his face, courtesy of the kitchen, and a variety of stones creating a disturbingly fake happy expression. You turned around to where Theo had been stood next to you, only to see that he was gone. "Theo?" you called out, spinning around to find him when you felt a thud of something against your back.

When you looked in the direction of the throw, you saw the man you had been looking for laughing and gathering up snow into a ball.

"You son of a bitch," you cursed, leaning down and accumulating some snow of your own. Immediately you let fire, hitting him right in the chest.

"Oh, it's on!" he shouted back— the trigger for ten minutes running around and hurtling snow at each other until you tripped. Only, you found yourself laughing as you hit the ground, flopping into a starfish position as Theo dashed over to you. "Are you okay, principessa?"

You sat up and tugged on his leg, making him topple over too. "I'm perfectly okay."

"Clearly," he groaned, propping himself up on one arm to gaze at you.

"I think I won this one."

Theo rolled his eyes, "If my lips weren't so numb, I'd kiss you right now."

Your lips parted in shock, making him laugh.

"And I won that one," he said, "Can we go inside before we freeze, please?"

And when you and Theo were cuddled up in front of the fire with hot cups of tea, you knew that your isolated life was no more, and you had almost fully let go of your reservations about forming attachments.

***

Bliss can only last so long, of course, and the horde of students returned early January with their trunks and chatter in tow. You reluctantly returned to your Ravenclaw dormitory, knowing sleep would be difficult after growing accustomed to the comfort of Theo's arms.

But you had no choice.

Still, as you walked down the hallways alone for the first time in two weeks, your hood over your head and eyes cast down, you felt lonely. You had never felt lonely before— well, maybe in part. But your fear of knowing someone and being close had overrode the loneliness: your phobia of being hurt again had made you view loneliness as a comfort. It didn't feel like a comfort any longer, not now that you had tasted Theodore Nott and all that came with him. Not now that he had shown you good intentions and security.

"Y/N!" you heard a call from behind you.

You spun around, feeling a smile tug on your lips as you recognised the voice. That was another thing Theo had brought you: smiles that came naturally, like a flower blooming because it had been nurtured and nourished to perfection, not in spite of its environment.

"There you are, principessa," he murmured, pulling you into his embrace, "I haven't seen you since last night."

"It's not that long," you shrugged, but you had missed him too.

"Too long," he said, taking your hand in his, "I could hardly sleep without you. Kept worrying about your nightmares."

Your face dropped, and that told Theo everything he needed to know.

"You had one, didn't you?"

With a dismissive nod, you turned and began walking down the corridor with him, "It was nothing. I'm fine."

"You promise you'd tell me if you weren't?"

"I'm always fine when I'm with you," you said quietly, "I wasn't fine last night, or this morning, but now you're here— I'm fine."

His eyes softened at your words, and he squeezed your hand. "Let's get some lunch."

***

When you entered the Great Hall, you felt Theo tugging you over to the Slytherin table where his friends were gathered. You swallowed your anxiety and shifted closer to him, deciding that as long as you had Theo as protection, these people couldn't hurt you.

They didn't notice either of you until you sat down.

"Theo! Where have you been?" Mattheo Riddle asked, his eyes then flicking to you, "Oh, it's you again... L/N, right?"

You nodded the affirmative.

"Who?" the girl next to him, Pansy Parkinson, asked.

"The girl Theo's been courting."

"I didn't know Theo was courting anyone," Lorenzo Berkshire frowned.

"Are you in the year below?" Pansy turned to you.

"No. I'm in your year."

Her eyes widened, "Salazar, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," you said. And, really, it was. You were used to it.

"Are you official, then?" Mattheo questioned, changing the subject effectively.

"Yes," Theo replied, before you could even process what Mattheo had just asked.

"Never thought I'd see the day where you settled down," Blaise Zabini chuckled.

"Just hadn't met the right girl yet."

Your heart flipped.

***

"Sorry about that earlier," Theo said to you later at the smoke spot, "I figured it was the only way to not make the situation awkward."

"Sorry about what?"

"Saying we're official."

"Oh."

Theo quirked an eyebrow, "Unless you're not sorry?"

You pursed your lips, "Maybe I'm not."

He grinned, "Then allow me to ask you officially, cara mia, will you be my girlfriend?"

"I want to," you took a deep breath, "But, I just— certain things are going to take some time for me. I— I will need easing into things like, uh..."

"Sex?" he finished for you.

Shamefully, you bobbed your head.

"Of course, we will take all the time you need," he smiled, moving closer to you to place a hand on your cheek, "I'm not in it for the sex. I'm in it because ti amo."

"I think I love you too."

"I'm here for you always, amore mio. I promise."

"Pinkie promise?"

"Pinkie promise."

——————————————————

masterlist

written; 04/05/2024 —> 22/05/2024 published; 26/05/2024 edited; —/—/——

58 notes · View notes