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creampuffqueen · 2 months

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Cover Story

Yangvik Week day 1 - fake dating

Summary: At a party in the Earth Kingdom, Yangchen and Kavik are on a mission. When things don't go to plan, they have to think quick to keep their cover.

Word count: 4248

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“Traveling alongside the Avatar - what an honor!” The older Earth Kingdom nobleman smiles over his glass of rice wine. Kavik forces a smile in return, swirling the liquid in his own glass to obscure just how little he’s drank. This must be the third time he’s heard the same sentence in the last fifteen minutes.

“Certainly. I enjoy the work.” The rehearsed words fall easily off his tongue, their smooth and gilded façade right at home inside the splendor of the royal ballroom of Ba Sing Se. “I am grateful to be a trusted companion of Avatar Yangchen.”

He goes to take a tiny sip of his drink, hopeful to avoid as much small talk as possible, but finds the wine frozen solid in its glass. Speak of the darkness.

A subtle motion with his hand is all it takes to unfreeze his drink, allowing him to actually take a sip - though with the delay he knows it now looks like he just drained the glass. Before the nobleman in front of him can comment, though, his eyes are drawn to something behind Kavik’s back.

Avatar Yangchen steps into place beside Kavik with gentle, measured steps. In the disgusting display of wealth here in the palace, she’s a yellow-and-orange breath of fresh air, both literally and figuratively. Kavik and the others had to dress up to attend this party. Yangchen, being an Air Nomad with no possessions to her name, did not.

The nobleman bows deeply before her. “Avatar Yangchen, it is a great honor to see you here in the Earth Kingdom.”

Yangchen bows to him in turn; a smaller motion, but no less lacking in respect. “Please, Lord Bozhou, the pleasure is all mine. I do hope you don’t mind, but I must steal my companion away for a moment. We have something to discuss with Lady Gyeshe.”

Lord Bozhou (how Yangchen can remember all these names, Kavik will never know) nods quickly in response. “Of course, Avatar, please. I will miss his invigorating tales, but you must take care of business.”

“Thank you, Lord Bozhou,” Yangchen replies, hooking one of Kavik’s arms with her own. She pivots on her heel and drags him away. To the average onlooker, her pace looks easy and relaxed, but Kavik can sense the tension in her grip and in the way she steps.

“He’s not going to miss me,” Kavik mutters quietly, trying to ease her with a bit of humor, “I was positively boring to talk to. And so was he, for that matter. Thanks for the save.”

“I didn’t come and get you just to get your sorry butt out of a conversation,” Yangchen whispers, in that eerie way of hers where her mouth hardly moves. “I just got the signal from Jujinta. We need to move quickly, but act as natural as possible.”

Kavik assumed about as much. If it were up to her, she’d revel in his small-talking misery all night. But they aren’t at the royal palace just to brush elbows with nobility. They have a job to take care of.

“You remember the plan?” Yangchen asks from the corner of her mouth as she smiles and nods at a group of Earth Sages they pass.

Kavik dips his head in acknowledgement at the delegation from Omashu on the other side of the ballroom. “I do. I’ll wait for three and a half minutes exactly, counting from when the door closes.”

Yangchen doesn’t respond verbally, only squeezing his elbow where their arms are linked. The motion pulls them closer than before. Kavik tries not to notice.

But as they stop to chat with Lady Gyeshe for a few moments, completing their cover story, he can’t help but notice that Yangchen still stays close, letting their shoulders brush together where they stand.

She’s done nothing different to her appearance tonight. Her robes are the same as always. Her prayer beads lay in the same spot against her chest. Her hair is in its usual braid, swinging low across her back. And yet, Kavik can’t keep his eyes off her. In this room full of beautiful things, she’s still the most captivating.

“Don’t you agree, Kavik?”

Kavik barely manages to hold back a noise of confusion - something he’s had to train hard to achieve. With only a blink to refocus his thoughts, he manages to pull on his fake smile and nod. “Yes, of course I do.”

Yangchen pats his hand softly, one eyebrow raising a fraction of an inch. Nothing gets past her; she clearly knows he wasn’t listening in the slightest. Still, she plays it off with ease, excusing them once again from the conversation and leading Kavik towards the door of the ballroom, arms still linked.

“Focus, please,” She admonishes as they exit, “We won’t get another chance as good as this one. If I don’t get Feishan some answers he’s going to get antsy, and we both know how that will end.”

“Sorry, I got distracted. It won’t happen again.”

“Distracted by what?” Yangchen asks lightly as they make their way down the grandiose hallway, “You were only looking at me.”

Heat rises in Kavik’s cheeks. He doesn’t answer.

Thankfully, they arrive at their destination before Yangchen gets a mind to press for a response. The palace of Ba Sing Se is fancy enough that they have designated rooms just for freshening up; one for men and one for women. Nobles have been using the rooms all evening, keeping their looks fresh for a whole night of royal partying. Now it’s Yangchen’s turn.

“I’ll only be a moment,” Yangchen promises aloud, for the benefit of the guard outside the door and the noblewomen already leaving.

“Please hurry,” Kavik urges in a similar tone, “I want to hear the end of Lord Bozhou’s story.”

Yangchen gives an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “I’ll be as quick as I can. It won’t kill you to stand outside for a minute or two.”

She steps away, and Kavik feels the absence of her at his side like a gaping hole. He’s so focused on her form retreating through the door that he nearly forgets to start counting, and he clenches his fist in frustration at himself. Keep your head on straight, you fool.

It isn’t difficult to feign boredom as he waits. Time passes so much slower when you’re counting each second. When he gets to three minutes he leans against the wall with a heavy sigh and begins to tap his foot. At three minutes and thirty seconds exactly, he pushes off the wall and heads back the way they came, ignoring the judgemental glare of the nearby guard. He can already imagine the gossip that will come from this. Some companion! Abandoning the Avatar at a royal function?!

Instead of heading back into the main ballroom, Kavik passes the grand doorway and keeps heading straight. He passes a few more rooms before he hangs a left, keeping his expression neutral, showing any onlookers only what he wants them to see: a man who knows where he’s going. A man who’s supposed to be there. Confidence is half the battle in infiltration. Act like you’re meant to be there and nobody will question you.

The amount of royalty, nobility, and generally important people gathered in the ballroom means that the majority of King Feishan’s guards are close to that area. However, the young Earth King is a paranoid man, keeping guards posted all throughout the palace, just in case. But as Kavik makes his way to the target room, he doesn’t encounter a single one. Jujinta’s part has gone off without a hitch.

Counting doors carefully to ensure he’s in the right place, Kavik at last stops walking, drawing his hand across the thick wooden door that should belong to the office of Minister Xahu.

That is, if he’s correct. He really hopes he’s correct.

The door is locked, of course. Not an issue, though. A small pouch at his hip, carefully concealed beneath his clothes, contains enough water for him to freeze two long, thin spikes of ice to use as lockpicks. Kavik unlocks the door easily and slips inside the office, returning the water to its container and shutting the door behind him.

Barely a minute later, two small taps sound through the wooden panel, announcing Yangchen’s presence before she lets herself in. She conjures a flame to her open palm, illuminating the small office room around them, casting their shadows on the wall.

She doesn’t bother with a greeting. “We need to hurry. Juji can only keep the guards distracted for so long without raising a proper alarm. I’ll take the walls in case the minister used earthbending to conceal anything. You take the desk and the bookshelves. Don’t move anything unless you’re sure you can put it back exactly the way it was.”

“I’m not an amateur,” Kavik reminds her, making his way to the desk.

Yangchen uses her free hand to start tracing along the walls, feeling with her earthbending for any hidden pockets or seals. “I know that. I mean, this ought to feel natural to you at this point. We basically met in a scenario exactly like this one.”

She punctuates her last sentence by winking at him over her shoulder. Kavik refuses to react, even as he feels his cheeks begin to redden. His fumbling hands very nearly knock over a small carved badgermole statue.

Kavik makes his way along the ornate desk, feeling with one palm for disguised seals or latches and using his other hand to tap a rhythmic pattern on the wood, listening carefully for any area that sounds hollow where it shouldn’t be.

Nothing. Kavik grits his teeth, keeping his frustration in check. He moves on to search inside the many drawers, taking care not to disturb the contents.

“Any luck?” Yangchen asks softly. She’s finished her check of the walls and is now inspecting the floor. The slide of her shoes across the polished stone floor makes a quiet rasping noise that prickles the hair on the back of his neck.

“Nothing yet. But these drawers are pretty full of papers. He might have tried to hide the records in plain sight.”

“Doubtful.” Yangchen peers over Kavik’s shoulder, glancing over the masses of files stuffed inside the drawer he has opened. This close, he can feel the ghost of her breath at the crook of his neck, feel the tiny puff of air she releases with every measured exhale. She keeps speaking, but Kavik finds it hard to focus on her words.

“Minister Xahu is the linchpin of this entire thing. He has spirits know how many people expecting their due, and he’s managed to keep it concealed from the Earth King for this long. Those records would have to be detailed, every copper piece accounted for. And he wouldn’t risk another minister or one of the aids accidentally stumbling upon them. They have to be hidden somewhere in this room.”

Somehow, Kavik manages to find his wits in order to give a proper answer. “You’re probably right. Let’s keep looking.” Yangchen pulls away from his shoulder and it takes everything in him not to utterly deflate in disappointment.

With the desk proving a failure, Kavik heads to the bookshelves while Yangchen makes another pass around the walls. He lets himself fall into his usual rhythm, one developed years ago during his time as an errand runner in Bin-Er. Move quick. Keep your eyes open. Leave no trace.

Though, his jobs in Bin-Er rarely had such high stakes.

Almost six months ago, King Feishan had contacted Yangchen to report a discrepancy in the amount of gold he was receiving from the shang cities. He’d demanded the Avatar’s presence to prove his claims, so Yangchen and Kavik begrudgingly made the journey to Ba Sing Se. The first of many, as it turned out.

Feishan had the two of them count every last piece of gold he received in his latest payment and compare it to the reports they’d sent alongside it. A non-insignificant portion was missing. The king was furious.

Now, they’ve nearly cracked the conspiracy. One of the king’s own economic ministers, a man named Xahu, has been allowing the shangs to siphon off city funds for themselves - and making his own pocket significantly heavier in the process. He demands a portion from each shang, as payment for keeping their theft off the records.

However, in order to keep track of exactly how much money is going where, Minister Xahu is certain to have his own set of highly detailed records. It isn’t easy to fool both the Earth King and the Avatar, and if the mission goes as planned, the minister will soon be seeing why.

Unfortunately, in order to justice to be enacted, the mission has to be a success - and the minister must be none the wiser that record of his activity has gone missing. At least, not until he’s put to trial.

Kavik is beginning to lose hope. Yangchen is on her third sweep of the office walls, and the flame in her palm is beginning to stutter. Not with exhaustion, but with frustration. Kavik himself has had even less success. Nothing in the desk, nothing in the bookshelf. The minister keeps his office sparsely decorated. They’re running out of things to search.

Yangchen flicks her wrist and the flame in her palm pulses bright, letting Kavik see the thin line of her lips, the deep furrow of her brow as she decides what they should do next. The glow from the fire makes her gray eyes look like molten pools of silver. For a moment, Kavik nearly forgets where he is.

“The plant. We haven’t searched the plant yet.” Yangchen brushes past him, making a beeline towards the towering fern in the corner by the door. Kavik spins on his heel and follows her, ready to assist in whatever way she needs.

With a swift motion, Yangchen grabs the packed soil in the ceramic pot and lifts, heaving the chunk of earth into the air. Instantly Kavik can see they’ve found their spot. A deep indentation is molded into the bottom of the dirt, roots growing around a distinctly block-shaped empty space. Kavik reaches into the pot and pulls out a dirt-covered wooden box.

Yangchen replaces the plant and the pair get to work, silently in sync. Kavik forms his ice-picks once more to unlock the box, and it opens easily under his practiced touch. The minister clearly thought he hid his secrets well enough that he only needed one lock.

The inside of the box is packed full with papers, an informant’s wildest dream. Kavik takes the top half and Yangchen the bottom, and together they sift through the papers at a breakneck pace, taking only the papers with the most damning evidence. Large sums, locations, actual names. Xahu has tried to play the game, but the older minister clearly knows very little about properly guarding secrets. Even the most amateur broker in Bin-Er knows not to use anything or anyone’s true name unless absolutely necessary. Kavik feels a bit like punching the wall. This is the man that robbed the Earth King right under their noses?

In only a few minutes, they’ve skimmed through the whole stack of records. Yangchen takes their evidence and tucks it into her robes, hiding the bulk of paper beneath the very forgiving outline of her Air Nomad clothing. Kavik puts the rest of the paper back into the box and relocks it. Yangchen lifts the plant again to let him replace the box into its hiding spot, cleans up the spilled dirt, and -

“We got it!”

Her arms are around his shoulders before he even realizes it, flinging herself at him with a wide grin, trusting he’ll catch her. Kavik’s hands land at her waist, holding her close for the brief moment of her hug. A triumphant smile of his own tugs at the corner of his mouth, the euphoric feeling of a job well done warming his chest.

Still smiling, Yangchen reaches up a hand to tousle his hair fondly, making Kavik scrunch his nose in mock annoyance, even as his grin remains firmly affixed to his face. “Hey, it took me forever to get my hair to look this nice!”

Yangchen just ruffles his hair again, rolling her eyes. “I like it better this way.”

Any retort Kavik had planned dies on his lips, his tongue suddenly refusing to make words as heat blooms in his cheeks. He watches, almost in slow motion, as Yangchen’s gaze veers away from his face. His ears - she must be looking at his ears, they’re probably bright red now and -

A palm slaps over his mouth. “Quiet! There’s someone outside.”

Kavik could kick himself. We just wasted so much time!

Yangchen steps out of his arms, nearly flattening herself against the door as she presses her ear to it. Kavik follows suit, straining to listen through the thick wood.

Sure enough, muffled voices can be heard, growing louder as the people advance down the hallway.

“Ready to get back to the party?” The first voice Kavik doesn’t recognize, but the accent is Upper Ring; the person must be nobility or close to it. Heavy footfalls nearly obscure the reply of the second person, but Kavik focuses with everything he has and manages to catch the second half of it.

“ - a moment, I need to check something in my office while we’re down here. Don’t wait, I won’t be long.”

Kavik’s stomach falls what feels like the height of the Northern Air Temple. The voice is unmistakable; he’s sat through enough miserable meetings with the man.

Minister Xahu is coming to check his office. The office where he and Yangchen currently are, stealing records that will get him sent to prison if discovered.

Yangchen turns to face him with a blank stare. She doesn’t have a plan for this. They assumed the minister would stay in the ballroom all night. He’d have no reason to travel this far into the palace, not with all the food, drink, and dancing he could want in one place.

Evidently, they were wrong. There’s no time to waste.

Kavik grabs the heavy chair from the minister’s desk and braces it beneath the door handle. That should buy them a bit of time as the minister struggles to push open the door. “Yangchen, is there any way you can earthbend us out of here?”

“Not without destroying the palace’s structural integrity,” She hisses in reply, beginning to pace. “And the walls aren’t thick enough for me to seal us inside, either.”

The office is sparse. There’s nowhere to hide. What excuse could they possibly give that would hold up their cover? Kavik’s mouth goes dry at the footsteps outside grow closer.

“Hang on, I’ve got an idea.” Yangchen grabs Kavik by both hands and drags him over to the desk. “You’re not going to like it. But trust me on this.”

“I think we’re a bit past caring about how I feel about a plan; tell me what it is.”

“You need to kiss me.”

“What?!”

Did he drink too much back in the ballroom? Did that plant have some kind of hallucinogen in its leaves? Did Yangchen actually just ask him to kiss her -

The door handle rattles, startling both of them. Yangchen’s head whips back and forth between him and the door. “Come on, it’s the only kind of cover that will make any sense!”

“But - I - what?”

The door handle rattles again. The chair budges a fraction of an inch. They’re running out of time.

“Oh for spirits’ sake, I’ll do it then.”

Yangchen grabs both sides of his face and crashes their mouths together into the best kiss Kavik has ever had.

Her lips are soft and warm and plush, pliable as they press into his, one hand coming up to tangle into his hair. Kavik stops breathing for half a second before instinct takes over and he’s kissing her back, imagining, if only for a moment, that any of this is real. Yangchen tugs at his hair and Kavik chokes on a gasp. She pulls him closer; his senses are overwhelmed by her. The scent of lemon on her hair, the heat of her body through her robes. He’s never been close to her like this before. He pushes her against the desk as the door finally swings open.

“What is the meaning of this?!”

Kavik is loathe to pull away, but he does anyway, wondering what they must look like from the minister’s perspective. Blushing faces, wandering hands, messy hair - every bit the young, overeager couple caught in the act.

“Oh! M-Minister Xahu!” Yangchen stumbles over her words, face flushed bright red. “What are you doing here?”

Kavik can tell the exact moment the minister realizes who he’s just stumbled upon. His green eyes nearly bulge out of his head and his eyebrows almost disappear into his hairline - impressive, considering how far its receded.

“Avatar Yangchen! My… apologies for the interruption.” The man’s jaw twitches, clearly unsure of how to proceed. A typical couple would be reprimanded and punished for trespassing in such a high level area. But this isn’t a typical couple. This is the Avatar and her companion.

Finally, the minister seems to have decided to treat Yangchen as the Avatar. He bows deeply before them, the couple still tangled together on his desk, and does his best to sound polite when he next speaks.

“Well, Avatar, this happens to be my office.”

Yangchen gives a surprised little gasp, covering her mouth with her hand. It’s one of the fakest sounds Kavik has ever heard her make. “Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t think - I mean, I didn’t realize this office would be needed this evening. You see, I just needed a bit of time away from the party and I asked Master Kavik to accompany me -”

“I understand perfectly,” Minister Xahu interrupts through gritted teeth. Kavik wonders just how much gossip is going to come from this. How long before news of this reaches the shang cities?

“Well, we should leave you in peace, Minister,” Yangchen says, pushing out of Kavik’s embrace and making a beeline for the door. She smooths her robes out as she walks, a flustered young woman trying to appear respectable - and not at all the spymaster checking to ensure the documents are still secured in her pocket. She gestures for Kavik to follow and he does as quickly as possible, eager to escape the fiery glare of the minister.

Yangchen bows to him in the doorway, peering up at him with imploring eyes. “I trust this… misunderstanding will not be mentioned to others here at the palace?”

“Certainly, Avatar; you have my word.” Kavik bites his lip to hold back a scoff of disbelief.

“Well, in that case, we must be going. Have a wonderful evening!” Yangchen grabs Kavik’s elbow and leads him away, a strange repetition of the way they walked to the office the first time.

It’s only after they turn the corner that both benders relax, Yangchen letting out an audible sigh of relief. “Good. He bought it.”

“Yeah. Quick thinking.”

She knocks their shoulders together, a small smile curling at the edges of her lips. “You did well, too. Good job making it look so real.”

Kavik can’t meet her eyes. His heart is still pounding too hard. “It was whatever. No problem.”

Yangchen pats at her outer robe again, making sure she still has the papers. “Now we can bring these to King Feishan, as well as the other shangs. We can finally put an end to this nonsense.”

She keeps talking, but Kavik isn’t listening, not anymore. His focus is honed in on her lips, on the curve of her smile, on the flick of her tongue as she forms her words. He kissed that smile a few minutes ago. He kissed her because she asked him to, and he wants to etch the memory of it into his brain.

He doesn’t know if he’ll get to kiss her again. Yangchen is clearly unaffected by it; just another matter of business for her. Kavik wonders if it’s stupid of him to hope she’ll ask him to kiss her again, even just for a cover story.

“Hey, are you alright?”

Kavik jolts at the question. “Hm?”

“You’re not listening. There’s something on your mind. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he promises, willing himself to believe it. If he believes it, she won’t be able to tell that he’s lying. “I’m just still in shock we pulled that off, even with the hitch in the plan. Things rarely go that smoothly for us.”

Yangchen snorts in agreement, and Kavik’s heart flutters at the sound. “You can say that again. Come on, we’ve been away from the ballroom for a while. I’m sure we’ve been missed.”

They still walk with arms linked, even though the rules of propriety don’t require it at this point. It’s like neither can bear to let go. They step over the threshold of the ballroom as one, back into the gilded room of beautiful lies. Yangchen leans over to murmur something into his ear.

“You know,” She breathes from the edge of her mouth, a whisper of a whisper, “You’re not a bad kisser, Kavik.”

#yangvikweek2024 #yangvik #yangchen x kavik #chronicles of the avatar

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tojiipurr · 11 months

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Sex Pollen w/ Gojo

Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

warnings! porn with plot, dub-con but reader enjoys it, age gap, sex pollen, voyeurism(?), i was gonna make it a lot worse i dunno what happened lol (please let me know if i missed any!)

synopsis! gojo brings you on a mission where you encounter a cursed spirit with an odd technique...

wc: 2.5K not proofread

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You are truly grateful for Gojo. He only became a teacher at Jujutsu Tech when you were in your third, final year but he was so good to you, helping you however he could. You looked up to him. You had a little crush on him, but it was nothing more than a silly schoolgirl crush.

Right after graduation he took you under his wing completely. Taking you on missions all the time, suggesting even more ways to improve your technique. He always had your back. You had a true mentor-mentee relationship, but you got along as friends too. Sure you found Gojo attractive, who wouldn't, but that's all it was now.

That was over two years ago. It was still the same as always. Gojo called you up earlier that morning to invite you along on a mission. He often did, knowing you didn't get many on your own. You weren't near the same grade he is. Plus, he enjoys having your company.

"Do you know what we're up against, Gojo-Sensei?" You ask him. The two of you walk down a noisy but lowly populated side street side by side. He's still dressed in his teacher uniform, reminding you of the older days.

"How many times do I have to tell you to drop the Sensei title?" Gojo pouts, putting on an overdramatic frown. He reaches a large, slender hand over to you and pinches your plush cheek. He snickers at your whine. "I'm not your teacher anymore."

You whine as Gojo pinches your cheek. You swat his hand away. He relents, knowing you couldn't actually overpower him in any sense. "Fine, Gojo," you mumble.

"Better," Gojo hums. He opens his mouth to say something else, likely some snide comment, but he cuts himself off. He straightens his posture as the two of you stand at the beginning of a dark alleyway. "We're here."

You peer into the deep alleyway. It's dark due to the night, hard to tell what's down there from the entrance. On one side is an abandoned building with a lot of smashed windows, odd scents wafting out of them. On the other is a brothel, muted noises of sex spilling from behind the walls that should be thicker.

You grimace at the noises. You can only imagine what sort of curse spirit has been brought into existence in a place like this. The intense feelings of rage and lust manifesting into a spirit they had to call Gojo to take care of didn't sit right with you.

"Are you okay?" Gojo's surprisingly soft voice brings you out of your daze. You look up at him with big eyes. "You can stay out here if you want. I got it covered."

"No!" You interject without even thinking. Sure, Gojo playfully judges and mocks you, but you know he never means it. Still, you don't want to appear weak in front of him. You take in a deep breath and look up at him. "I'm coming."

"Then come on," he says, returning to his usual cheery voice. He motions for you to follow as he walks into the alley. You do, feeling a shiver run down your spine as the world behind you disappears.

It doesn't take long for a cursed spirit to appear in front of you two. It's big, and radiates a lot of cursed energy. Probably a first grade, nothing Gojo can't handle. It's a variety of shades of red and has weird heart eyes. It has both male and female parts, thankfully not very detailed.

Gojo throws an arm in front of you to distance you from the curse. "Somethings off," he says in a low voice. You couldn't tell. It felt like any other spirit to you.

He tells you to stay put for now before charging at it. He easily dodges all its attacks, weird red and pink mists that sparkle even in the dark light. It goes on for a while before Gojo grows bored and summons his cursed technique.

The curse must be smarter than either of you anticipated. Sensing the special grade sorcerer about to make a move that will easily end the fight, it changes its target to you.

Gojo senses it in no time. He stops his cursed technique before jumping in front of you to protect you. The curse launches its cursed technique again before either of you have time to react.

It somehow seeps into Gojo's limitless, mingling with his senses. His breath grows heavy as his cheeks dust pink.

"Gojo?" you murmur with worry. You reach a hand out for him, unsure of what the curse has done to him.

He turns his back to the cursed spirit, completely ignoring its presence. But you catch the way it snickers and moans behind him.

Gojo looks down at you through his blindfold. You look him up and down for signs of what's happening when you notice the very obvious, big bulge growing under his uniform.

"I'm sorry," he mutters before he has you pinned to the wall in a second. Your breasts press flat against the cold brick wall. You can feel Gojo's hard body pressed against your back as he pins your hands above your head. His bulge presses between your asscheeks.

"Gojo!" You screech when you realize what's happening. He ruts his hips against yours, moaning at the friction. "It- the cursed spirit is getting away!"

He doesn't even look when you turn your head toward the curse fleeing further into the dark alley, right out of sight. Its cursed technique seems to be doing exactly what it wanted.

"I'm sorry," he repeats. His hot breath fans over your ear. He releases your wrists to grab onto your hips with an iron-like hold. He spins you around so you're facing him, slamming your back against the wall, knocking the breath from your lungs.

His big hands grab onto the fabric of your shirt. He doesn't bother fumbling with the buttons, opting to tear the fabric right off your body.

"Gojo!" you protest again, trying to grab his attention. "What's happening, why are you-" you ramble in a panic before he cuts you off.

He takes off his blindfold, revealing his shining blue eyes. Only, they aren't shining. They're dull, clouded with lust.

He shoves the fabric into your mouth, shutting you right up. Your protests and building whines turn muffled from the makeshift gag.

"Shh, shh," he coos. His tone was gentle, and it would've made your heart flutter in any other sexual encounter. But his actions and gaze didn't match his soft voice. "Just need to fuck whatever this is out of my system and I'll be all good."

He gets down on his knees in front of you and your eyes go wide. He grabs onto the hem of your skirt, pushing it up so it bunches around your hips. "So glad you wore a skirt today," he purrs. He licks his lips at the clear view of your panties.

He wishes he could savour his time more with you, but he needs this. He grabs your panties and slides them down to rest around your ankles. His eyes turn hungrier as he gazes at your bare cunt.

He turns his eyes up to look at you as a smirk grows on his face. "Already wet?" he taunts. He runs a slender finger over your slit, spreading your slick around. "Does the thought of getting fucked by your mentor like this really arouse you that much?" He lets out a chuckle but it's darker than normal.

He leans in closer to run his tongue along your slit. He laps at your clit while looking up at him. He tightens his grip on your hips when you begin to squirm in his hold.

He pulls back to tut at you when he catches your hand before you can hit him. "Now, now," he taunts. "I'm being nice and patient to prepare you to take my cock. It hurts so bad and is so overwhelming, but I still want to make it feel good for you too. So be a good girl and take it?"

You drop your hand back to your side obediently. You wouldn't say you don't like the way it feels, and when you think about it, you like that it's Gojo and not someone else. Maybe your crush on him never did entirely go away.

No, you're embarrassed it feels so good. He's hardly done anything and you're already worked up. But it still feels wrong, doing it in an alleyway where it feels like you were both forced into doing this.

Your thoughts are cut short when you feel his tongue enter your dripping cunt. Your back arches off the wall, pressing yourself against his face. He smirks against your folds as he wiggles his tongue in deeper, pressing against your gummy walls.

Your hand shoots down to tangle in his white hair. He groans when you tug at his strands. He replaces his tongue with two long fingers, curling them inside you. You can't help but moan lewdly when they hit your g-spot.

Gojo pulls back to look up at your face, stilling his fingers. Tinted cheeks, hooded eyes filled with need that weren't quite as bad as his own. His own face drips your arousal sticking from his nose to his chin. His skilled tongue licks it all clean.

"I think that's enough," he coos. He withdraws his fingers, ignoring the way your cunt clenches to try to keep him inside. He brings his fingers to his lips, humming when he tastes you again. "I think you're wet enough to take me, right babygirl?"

Before he rises back to his feet he grabs onto the waistband of your skirt, pulling it down to rest around your ankles with your panties. "There," he rumbles. "Now I can see your pretty pussy perfectly."

His long fingers dip into the cavern of your mouth - really, an unnecessary move but he likes the way you struggle to fit his fingers and blindfold - to pull out his blindfold. He whips it around to get some of your saliva off before stuffing it in his pocket for now.

"Be vocal for me," he purrs. His large hands plant themselves around your hips and before you can react he has you facing the wall again. "Hits deeper this way," he grunts.

He places one hand on the small of your back to keep you still against the wall even as you try to squirm. You can hear the sound of a belt buckle being undone before leather hits the ground behind you.

Next comes the sound of a zipper before his pants and boxers fall around his thighs. He doesn't bother taking them off any further, groaning the moment his painfully erect cock is freed.

He grabs both of your hips again in a tight hold, pulling your ass away from the wall to stick out. Your breath hitches when you feel the swollen tip tease your slick entrance. "It's okay," he soothes, but there's something else in his voice, no doubt the result of the cursed technique. "I'll try to go as slow as I can, make it feel good for you too."

At a slow, almost tender pace he easily slides his dick inside your warm cunt. He lets out a loud moan when his tip is fully inside. He hooks his knees between yours to keep your thighs spread when you try to close them. You can't see the size or shape of his dick, but he feels big. Even being so turned on the stretch still hurts.

He presses his back against your chest for a better angle. He continues to slide his cock in inch by inch. "Almost there," he grunts. "Fuckk," he groans when his cock is fully seated between your walls.

You can feel his mushroom tip brushing against your cervix. He's even longer than he is thick. You can feel his tip kiss your cervix with every slow thrust he starts with.

"Feels good now, yeah?" he asks. Your walls flutter as any pain disappears. When you nod he begins to rut his hips faster. You can feel the snap of his hips against your ass with every thrust as he speeds up to an ungodly pace.

He's fucking you on a primal level at this point. You can't help but blame the cursed spirit. His slow, caring pace has been replaced with fast and hard thrusts. His heavy balls slap against your clit with every movement.

"Fuckkk," he draws out in a loud moan. His hands move away from your hips to grab your bra clasp. He undoes it, but leaves the article hanging loosely on your arms.

He reaches around to toy with your breasts, kneading the flesh and pinching your nipples. He smirks at the way your back arches from his touch. His lips move to your neck to suck on the sensitive flesh. He nips wildly, leaving marks.

His thrusts become erratic and even faster if possible. Of course it is, it's Satoru Gojo. "I'm close," he grunts right next to your ear. "Gonna cum inside, kay?"

You can't respond, too fucked out. He can tell by the way you're a moaning mess, tongue lulled out of the mouth. He's glad you can't protest, wanting to cum inside you bad.

His thrusts become sloppy, hips rutting into your ass at uneven pace. He can feel the tightening in his balls. He lets go of your tits, grabbing your hip with one hand. His other hand snakes around your front to rub your clit.

"Come on, cum too," he growls. His tip hits the perfect spot inside your gummy walls even with his sloppy pace. The added stimulation on your clit is all you need.

You cum all around his cock, clenching down on his length like a vice. He hisses in pleasure as he feels the sticky liquid coat his cock. "Good girl," he coos. He retracts his hand from your clit but keeps thrusting, needing his own release.

His hands grab your hips hard, bruising them. The way your pussy clenches from your orgasm sends him over the edge. He releases his load inside your cunt as he continues to thrust, fucking his cum into you.

He pants as he eases his hold on your hips. He slowly withdraws his softening cock from your pulsating walls. He looks down with satisfaction from the sight of your combined cum dripping down your thighs and onto the ground.

He pulls up his own pants and boxers to tuck his dick back inside. He crouches down behind you to pull up your skirt and panties, trapping his cum inside of you. He clasps your bra for you.

He spins you around to face him, looking with some guilt at your spent face. He strokes your cheek so you gaze up at him with hazy eyes. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," he repeats.

"I'll take you back to your house and get you all cleaned up," he reassures. "Then I'll come back to get the cursed spirit on my own after."

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

first thing i've written in a while (first thing on this blog)!

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #tw.dubcon #sex pollen #gojo satoru x reader

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mooishbeam · 11 months

Note

Do you think Kaeya is the type to engage in riskier public or semi public sex or maybe he's more of the type to rather keep it private somewhere? Like I like to believe that he's deceptively gentle and sweet, and in public, he's always this perfect gentleman who treats his lover like a god(ess) but what people don't see is the vibrator or whatever else he chose for the day - but he does absolutely enjoy romancing his partners even if he is a little mean in bed.

₊˚ෆ Omg yes Kaeya definitely showers you with gifts and compliments and praise wherever you go! He’s definitely the type of guy to buy you roses and keep one for himself so he knows when to buy you new ones!

₊˚ෆ There’s no one in Teyvat that doesn’t know how much Kaeya is enamored with you, if he ever gets time to engage in small talk outside of work the first thing out his mouth is how grateful he is to have someone like you.

₊˚ෆ Holds doors, pulls your chair out, serves your dinner first, truly the peak gentleman. You don’t have to lift a finger around him.

₊˚ෆ He’s also needlessly cruel in bed. He’ll tie you to the bed with a vibrator on your clit for hours until you’re sobbing, whispering everything he loves about you so deceptively sweet in your ear. His hips slam against yours, wet mean pumps fogging your brain. He smiles when you whine with that dumb fucked-out look on your face. “Shh, I love you so much princess. You can be good and take everything I give you, yeah?” All you can do is nod through the overstimulation, and he places a soft gentle kiss on your cheek before pushing your legs back into a mating press and pummeling your pussy.

₊˚ෆ When he’s bored he’ll probably strap vibrating panties to you to see how long it takes for you to break. He takes you to a flower shop, and immediately turns up the intensity when you start talking to the worker. Your legs wobble while she’s wrapping your order, and you hear him play coy mockingly, “Something wrong, sweetheart? Go get the order. Unless you want them to know how much of a needy slut you really are.”

₊˚ෆ Would definitely tie discrete bondage under your dress with an elastic rope that presses teasingly against your clit. He pulls your chair out, and when you move to sit the friction shoots up your back and you arch without thinking. He leans in close. “If you make a sound in here, I’m going to take you to the bathroom and fuck you stupid.” You can’t even adjust yourself in your chair without everyone in this restaurant knowing who owns you. They find out anyway when a moan slips out and you’re dragged to the nearest bathroom. Your hair is pulled close to him, body turned towards the mirror with your dress hiked up and he’s grabbing your fish-pursed face. “Can’t follow simple directions, hm? Maybe you wanted this, acting like an ungrateful brat just so I can punish you?” He watches your juices drip down his balls as he disappears inside your heat. You whimper and clench around his throbbing cock at every dirty syllable and he laughs. “You’re made for my dick. Fuck, beautiful angel. I can’t believe you’re mine~”

#kayea #kaeya alberich #kaeya x reader #kaeya imagines #kaeya smut #kaeya headcanons #I did this in 20 minutes #had two exams today I’m so eepy #gonna nap now #my first imagine sorry if it’s bad lol idk how to do these

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c0smoshit · 1 year

Note

Hi hi! Just wanted to know if you were doing requests at the moment, and if so, I have one!

A Cloud Strife x fem! reader that’s based off the song “From the Start” by Laufey? Fluff and ends in a cute little confession!

AHH I love your writing, keep up the good work! Don’t forget to hydrate and stay healthy!

Requests are still open!! So don't worry honey :))

But anyways I love Laufey😭 Her songs are just 😙 🤌 chef kiss

Thanks for the support love ♡♡

Oh the burning painミ★

⋆ ࣪. ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 ≫ Cloud Strife/Reader

⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 ≫ fluff, lovesickness, hugs and overall soft hour Cloud, not proofread!

⋆ ࣪. 𝔸/ℕ ≫ Idk if you just read my mind but I was planning on writting a fic with a Mitski song...

⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥 ≫ 3.862

You finally got to rest after an exhausting day of long walks and longer fights, your feet ached, begging you pry them off the confines of your burning shoes.

Midgar was now far behind your back but although you had escaped the loud noises and the crowds of stressed people, you were still pretty dizzy.

Hurriedly your hands touched the cold surface of the handle on the door that you supposed led you to a room. Sighing audibly when your theory was proven right, you entered inside.

The wind creaked through the big window right above the bed, creating a cool ambience inside you had been craving since you stepped outside the walls.

Although the room wasn't as big as the one in your appartment, it still felt the same size after the mess you had been through. Your bag was long forgotten besides the small wooden night table, your shoes followed soon.

The sun was still up in the sky, it was eventually going to dissapear with red and orange brushstrokes, so the group agreed on resting till tomorrow morning.

And you were so grateful you guys did, having some privacy you knew you were going to seek on this ambiguous long road. But not only you loved the privacy, you loved how your mind could wander around freely.

You thought and thought, how fresh the air slid inside your nostrils, nostrils that were used to the imminent pollution that big city had enveloping it's buildings.

How bright the sky was, a huge lake of natural crystal water beyond your hairy crown. Your eyes burned whenever you looked at the sun, pupils shrinking hastily.

The ground felt different too, both in your eyes and the feeling of it against your curious fingertips. It felt hot and funny, millions of little children frenziedly running down your wrist, some of them tiredly resting on your palm.

You had forgotten about those starry and clear nights you were dying to see once again.

. . .

"Do you think we will still play together when we grow older?"

He stopped walking but he didn't look at your face like you thought he would.

"Yeah, you'll see me on the news when I become a SOLDIER"

You would always tell him that you didn't like talking about those boring guys, that instead he helped you get your doll out of the wooden plank it had fallen on.

But the visible sparkle that appeared on his iris whenever he talked about them, how he seemed to gesticulate more, be happier with you.

Maybe you didn't mind those boring guys that much.

. . .

He would take you to the mountains behind the village, walk with you like he would when he was all alone.

"Look!"

Your dress touched the hard rocks bellow your feet as you crouched down, your face lightening up as you looked at whatever was in front of you.

He tried to peek in, but when he got closer to your back you unexpectedly turned around with something between your little hands.

He had a confused face, eyebrows furrowed while his eyes looked at your big grin before looking back down.

He quickly took a step back with an audible gasp, he had a flower or some silly snail in mind, not a squirrel. Yet when he looked back at the cute baby animal, he was curiously pleased with the sight.

"It's so small and fuzzy!"

Your plump cheek rubbed the side of the little furry gentleman and he felt something inside his belly.

You looked cute like that.

He wouldn't have picked up that animal like you did, maybe because they wouldn't go near him. Something emanated from your body, an aura of kindness that kept him close to you.

You were the only kid he thought wasn't weak, someone who wouldn't judge him if he didn't make it to SOLDIER.

He would have never told you how much he missed you sometimes, the swings felt colder without your colorful skirts resting on top of them.

You brought joy into his life, he liked to play hide and seek with you although you weren't the best at hiding. You were the best at making him crack a smile sometimes.

He swore he would never let a soul like yours get hurt ever again.

. . .

The window was wide opened by your hands, eternal fields of green and vivid grass in front of you. Oh how you would love to lay there right now, you pictured a thin layer of dew wetting your clothes at night, welcoming you with a warm sunlight-bathed blanket when the biggest star came back.

You wondered about those two short memories that popped up inside your head suddenly, maybe it was because you finally smelt fresh mountain air after so long.

Your nose often reminisced you about your memories, the hot and sweet aroma of fresh baked strawberry muffins, the ones you used to bake with your father.

You missed him, you missed home.

But now you finally filled that hole once again, not with your own blood but one that appeared to be the same shade.

You were lost, but he was too. And when you saw him again in those sad streets, his uniform placed carefully on top of his skin and that distinctive sword.

You knew he hadn't changed a bit.

So you brought him back with Tifa, helping her getting him into your group. At first he was bitter with the idea, whining about how he didn't care about the Planet, he just wanted to fulfill his pockets.

But eventually he just needed to warm himself up with everyone, at the end of the day you were all he had left. You opened your backpack.

"You sure you're fine?"

Your head perked up when you heard that distinctive kind voice, your feet stopping right when you were going to reach the end of the metal stairs.

Then you heard a huff, your mind almost immediately picturing a black gloved hand shaking in the air, silently answering her question.

You didn't know why, but your body thought the best idea was to hide behind a wall next to the stairs. You knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but you were too curious to care.

"Okay"

A sigh fell from her lips, the sound of a door creaking following right behind.

"If you want anything else, we can always get it-"

"There is one thing. My money. You guys owe me two thousand, remember? "

Greedy bastard.

Of course he had to bring his gils up, right after she kindly asked him if he was doing alright. You had to bite your lip in order to surpress a laugh.

You heard the feminine voice talking again, but it was too muffled out for you to make out the words. However, you stayed there for a little while.

You lived right next to his door now, you figured out Tifa was showing him his brand new appartment.

He was back home once again.

The voices quieted down, some footsteps could be heard to the tune of the chilly dark air. His sword still rested on his back too, you began walking towards your door.

But then you saw it, you saw Tifa enveloping him with her delicate-looking but strong arms. You freezed once again in the same spot.

Had Cloud ever enjoyed one of your hugs?

His arms akwardly stayed by his sides for a few seconds before he patted her back softly, her arms were wrapped around his chest and she had her head next to his face.

You noticed that she was whispering something into his ear, his mouth stayed tight in response. They both were so close, you took a step foward.

Tifa let go of him and he still stood stiff on his shoes, his eyes were the first ones that noticed you.

You gave him a small wave, quickly marching towards your door as you fumbled with your damn keys. He just looked at you but you were stopped by a swift hand.

"Y/n! "

You spun around, offering an akward smile before her arms were around you for a brief moment.

You had hugged her multiple times before but this one felt just different, for some reason it didn't feel as warm and sweet as they always did, managing to boost up your mood.

"Cloud's our new neighbour now"

She gave you a cheeky grin, her hand now resting on your shoulder. Your mouth opened but you closed it as fast as a butterfly flapped it's colorful wings.

"Yeah... Goodnight you two"

The last thing you saw before your hand made contact with the icy metal handle of your door was her puzzled face, you read some worry in her eyes too.

You were too tired to even think about it, all the tasks you had to do today burning inside your head, now mixed with some sort of sudden... irritation?

Maybe it was the weather, the pollution you hardly tried to scrub off with soap and water. You felt a wave of guilt dragging you down to the deepest places of the ocean, embarrasment seaweeds brushing your face.

Why did you have to run away like that?

What do they think about you now?

They were your friends, she was the one that had offered you fresh drinks and a warm shelter in the first place. It wasn't fair.

♪ I don't need reminders of how you don't feel the same ♪

You mind was stuck by the same rope, constantly trying to pry your ankle from it's prision, scratching and clawing at it. But you only appeared to be dragged further away.

Had he got any romanticism under that thick skin of his?

Maybe he did, deep down, tightly secured by his cold demeanour. But those feelings were definitely not caused by you, you saw the way Aerith seemed to talk to him. How a little yellow flower changed his life.

And the black-haired girl was up there too, her strong but intelligent mindset made her really attractive.

You could spend hours talking about those two girl's beauty, not only from the outside because they were clearly gorgerous under any gaze. They were even prettier when you got to talk to them. Maybe he found them as pretty as you did, maybe he was attracted to one of them.

Okay, slow down.

You were supposed to wind down tonight, finally able to rest properly after a tiring day. And yet you were laying on top of the soft mattress, madly thinking about that damn blonde.

You missed him as a child, he had the cutest cheeks and the softest hair. You missed when he talked honestly with you, without any lies.

But those days had gotten off your back a while ago.

You wanted to drown those thoughts with your bare hands only for tonight, they tortured you enough when it was bright outside. But to top it off, he was sleeping right beside you.

You wanted to walk to his door and when he opened it with that frown of his, pin him into the wall and beg for him to please tell you how he felt. How he felt about you.

♪ Run to me, confess your love. . . ♪

He was cold and warm with you, he offered to help you with your chores, he had waled you home. But he also didn't speak as much as he did when he was younger, his words had turned short and sharp.

Why was he so enigmatic?

A white hall full of endless closed doors, some of them were slightly open meanwhile others had big locks on them. You would need years to open all of them.

Maybe you need a shower.

The morning sun slid through your pores, filling them up with ( not so fresh ) vitamin C. The city was peacefully quiet as it was sunday and most families spent their day inside, together. Oh how you wished you were one of them right now.

But the loud clank of two pairs of shoes kept your mind away from your peace.

♪ Me and you and akward silence ♪

You were kindly asked by Jessie to help her do some shopping for the bar, and of course he had to come with you.

Lately you'd tried to distance yourself as further as the metal buildings let you from him, you didn't want to weird yourself out like you did last time.

Maybe he thought you were acting weird?

You hurried up your steps, his own ones following you close.

No matter how hard you tried to shove inside that thick skull of his that he didn't have to help you with anything, that you were perfectly fine on your own. He didn't seem to give two shits, he was always a gentleman and he was going to keep his maners.

"Alright, this one or that one?"

It was a stupid question, he was probably going to let you choose because he didn't know much about Tifa's stuff for the bar like you did. But you didn't want to make this moment more akward.

He also seemed weirdly calm, he hadn't talked to you about what was happening inside his head or how trapped he felt inside the city but you knew that something was wrong with him.

Maybe you shouldn't have ran out like that in front of him.

"Ughh"

Tired huffs were heard inside the small store, coming from your mouth as you tried to get some soap off it's shelf. You stood on your tippy toes, your shirt riding up a bit as your hand reached high.

However, someone was tall enough to reach it, and before you scoffed at the strange person, you felt his clothed chest on your back.

His slight but intense aroma filled your nose, his spikey hair trickling your back. You had been closer to him, why did this feel so intimate?

You knew the reason why, you had always knew the reason for all your bottled up emotions, but you were too embarrassed to admit them out loud.

"Here"

Before you could enjoy the moment, it had already burned itself on your memories. He had done it again, the warmth of his touch being harshly replaced by the coldness of his voice.

You distracted yourself for the rest of the trip by buying whatever you needed and looking at whatever you didn't. You needed some sort of escape before you went nuts in front of him again.

Maybe your hormones were acting up again after completely destroying you on your teenage years. You hadn't been this lovesick since that guy you had crushed on a few years ago.

After giving Jessie what she wanted, the sun was already getting himself prepared to sleep.

You enjoyed lonely walks outside with this weather, the sun kind of brought joy into the depressing slums. You were happy, the air screamed a change of the seasons, time to bring out the warm clothes out of your drawer.

But some metal clank reminded you that he was, in fact, still beside you.

Ready to de-stress after doing some chores and keeping the city fairly safe even though he didn't really mean it. The walk home was quiet as you had suppossed it would be.

You reached the stairs without the need of hiding once again, a grown out chocobo following behind you. The first time your eyes fell upon that horizon of blonde mess you thought they looked like those big and super cute birds.

As a kid you only got to see them in pictures, some of them too blurred out to make out their big blue eyes. However, they were way cooler in person.

You remember the time you first bumped into one in Midgar, his owner let you pet him and you could've died in that field of softness. You and Tifa both agreed that Cloud was just like them, but he wasn't as funny and joyful obviously.

He reached his long awaited door, your own one was on on his right. He opened the door and your mouth was still sealed shut, his eyes found yours once again, waiting for you to wave him goodbye or something.

"See you tomorrow then"

He wouldn't have nodded unless his eyes weren't looking at your lips, your tone matching the silent breeze of the afternoon air.

The cold water trickling down your skin calmed your body and certainly your mind, you missed this sort of loneliness. Having the time to properly wash your body, your hair.

Your back hit the mattress once again, but as soon as you did, the same scorching warmth invaded your thoughts again. Something bothered you, and you knew what you had to do to ease that itch.

But you were too shy to do it, not now you thought. But when?

Sepphiroth was out there, Shinra had polluted almost every corner left on this Planet. You had to do it.

. . .

"Fuck"

Your quivering hands fixed your clothes, your knuckles ready to bang the do-

"Hey"

You stood there like a rock, the door was wide open in front of you and a fresh out of the shower Cloud welcomed you. You hadn't expected him to be the one who opened the door before you.

His shoulder was empty and his leather belt wasn't there too, he looked calmer like that. You liked that view, a more "informal" sight.

But the best part was his hair, it still had droplets of water travelling through a rainforest of blonde locks, desesperately trying to find a way out. His brows were a bit ruffled up too, and you had to contain your urges to brush your fingers over them.

"H-Hey"

His eyes looked at you up and down, you read confusion writen all over them once again. He probably didn't expect you to be there either.

"I just. I just wanted to talk"

You finally breathed out, your heart felt like it was about to explode inside your chest. Why didn't you feel like this when you were fighting the Turks?

"Come in"

God, why did you have to follow the voices in your head.

The room was identical to yours, but his bed was on the left side of the room. Your own one was on the right, he was going to sleep next to you.

What?

No he wasn't, there was a wall dividing both of your little worlds. You were going crazy at this point.

♪ Unrequited, terrifying ♪

He sat on the bed, next to a soggy white towel you figured out he had used for his hair. His knees were slightly appart from eachother, his bare hands resting on top of them.

It was the first time since he began living next to you that you had seen him without those gloves. And you certainly didn't know how they weren't already worn out.

They were pretty and surprisingly glowy, maybe it was the water that smoothed his fingers out, maybe his gloves kept his hands soft. You wanted to feel them, on your skin, on your face as he brushed away a strand of your hair.

Now you knew why those strange massage ladies talked wonders about him, he had the most gorgerous hands you had ever seen. A shame he wasted it's potential by soaking them up with blood.

How long had you been staring at them already?

"Okay..."

A sigh slipped through your lips, the nautical twilight soon about to turn into an astronomical one, flooding your senses.

"Don't wanna sound weird"

An akward laugh filled his brain, he watched you from his seated position your crossed-arms standing one. He was hoping you would sit with him.

"It's just that-"

♪ Love is driving me a bit insane ♪

You bit your lip, taking your pupils off him before you mentally facepalmed.

"Forget it, you're probably tired"

You turned on your heels, your mind already reminding you about how embarrassing this was, how you shouldn't have gotten off your bed in the first place.

Yet his hand grabbed your wrist.

It was indeed as soft as you had imagined.

Silence fell over the room, your face searched his under the clear fog of the night. Your feet slowly shifted into it's initial position, the warmth still lingering on your right.

He didn't need to talk for you to know exactly what he wanted you to do, so you let yourself fall next to him on the mattress.

Your cheeks were burning at this point and you didn't dare looking at his eyes, little did you know he had learnt to surpress those same feelings better than you.

His fingers unlaced the soft bracelet from your wrist, laying down close to your pinky. You looked so cute blushing.

The next movement stunned both of you, your swift arms enveloping his neck and your rapid heart beating wildly on his chest. His hands stayed beside him for a few seconds, not knowing where to put them. But like everything in life, they eventually found their place on your waist.

♪ Have to get this off my chest ♪

"I love you"

You hugged him tighter, trying to ease the anxiousness that was starting to consume your guts. You shouldn't have said that out loud, god, you had really fucked up your relationship with your only source of comfort in this nasty world.

He brought you closer to him, you thought he would pull you away.

You both stayed like that for a while, a while you wished the moon would grant you an eternity like this with him.

♪ Confess I loved you ♪

"I do too"

That simple mumbled out words were like a burst of arrows shot directly to your chest, maybe this were your last minutes alive before your heart exploded.

♪ Just thinking of you ♪

"I thought you and, you and Aerith. . .?"

He shifted on the bed but his arms were still around you, securing you into his lean form.

"We're not like that"

You felt as if you were running between flowers, the air striking your face as you laughed and cried happy tears.

You were finally in peace.

You had loved him since you two were little kids, quietly waiting for him to go out and play with you, always having a sudden burst of energy whenever you saw him on the village.

It was finally happening.

You didn't want a kiss tonight, maybe he wasn't ready for that.

You just wanted to be held like this, his strong arms keeping you away from anything that could've harmed you. You wanted him closer, you needed his touch.

And so did he.

♪ I know I've loved you from the start ♪

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hybeboyenthusisast · 28 days

Text

☆ twenty-two ☆

prev / masterlist / next

wc: 1k

You were nervous; who wouldn't be? Moving from friendship to something more was always a gamble, always with certain things at stake if things went poorly. But for you and Kai? You would still have Bahiyyih, you would still have Yeonjun. You felt certain that if this date, or any subsequent dates, went poorly, you and Kai would simply go back to being friends. But you were still nervous, and you were still sitting in the back of the company van drumming your fingers against your thigh, playing worst-case scenarios in your head.

You were so stuck in your head that you didn't even realize when the van came to a stop behind the arcade, your security team already in position to guard you from any paparazzi that could have followed the van. Your driver cleared his throat, looking at you in the rearview mirror. "Y/N?"

You locked eyes with him, smiling sheepishly. "Thank you. I'll call you when I'm ready to be picked up."

The driver nodded, smiling fondly as you waved to him as you exited the van. Your security was instantly moving with you, their bodies positioned to shield yours as their eyes scanned the surroundings. The walk from the van to the back door of the arcade was no more than 3 feet, but you already knew from past experiences that trying to argue with your security team was pointless. Even if there was even an inch of space, they were there, covering it and protecting you. It could be very annoying at times, such as this one, but it was less painful than the reprimanding from your manager every time you snuck out of the dorm without any security. You were grateful, of course, as the reality of crazy people and paparazzi was quite terrifying, but you still missed being able to walk 4 feet without being crowded around like an endangered animal.

One of your guards opened the door, walking ahead of you and assessing for any danger in the arcade. Another guard handed you a pair of sunglasses and a hat to wear, but you simply rolled your eyes and pushed them back into his hands. "There's literally nobody here, I don't need to hide."

"How rude, calling me nobody," Kai scoffed playfully, leaning against one of the arcade machines. His security team was lined up against one wall, arms crossed and expressions stoic. You smiled to yourself as you remembered the time the two of you snuck out to go to that strawberry bakery, no security in sight. You stuck your tongue out at Kai, moving into his open arms and snuggling into his embrace. It still shocked you how tall he had gotten, but it was also very hot.

Your security team joined Kai's against the wall, leaving you to enjoy the rented-out arcade. It really was just you and Kai there, aside from two staff members you saw cleaning a machine with bored expressions.

Kai's arms around your waist squeezed you gently, pulling away so he could see your face. "You're so pretty," he whispered, booping your nose and cracking a grin.

His words made you blush, which in turn made him laugh. He looked so at ease, throwing his head back and laughing wholeheartedly. He was in blue ripped jeans and a white hoodie, with chunky sneakers to match. You weren't dressed much different, in a grey hooded top, blue jeans, and white sneakers. Nothing too fancy, but something you looked good in. "Come on, I'm ready to dominate you," you grabbed his hand and pulled him along towards the center of the arcade, where the arcade coin exchange was.

"You're ready to what?" Kai barked out a laugh, walking behind you and slyly checking out your ass. It wasn't the first time he had done so, but it was the first time he wouldn't have cared if you caught him. You grew up well, and he would have to be blind not to notice. He honestly hadn't even considered dating you or ever having feelings for you- not until you asked him on a date and his heart leapt in his chest. He had crushes before, never in love, but he knew what it felt like to want to be with someone. Somehow, though, he hadn't noticed that he wanted that with you. Perhaps it was because he brushed off the butterflies he felt as nervousness over getting to know you again. Or perhaps it was because he kept reminding himself that he had to focus on his career, even if he was technically allowed to date.

Now, though, watching as you swiftly gathered up your arcade tokens and shoved them all into his hand to carry for you - which he did not mind in the slightest-, he was beyond ready to step further from friendship into something more.

"Kai, earth to Kai," you poked his cheek, shaking him from his thoughts. "Thought I lost you there."

Usually first kisses happen at the end of a date, but as you stood in front of him, hand cupping his cheek, he couldn't help himself. Your eyes widened in realization as he drew close to you, his lips brushing against yours. He was hesitant, testing the waters to see if you were alright with this.

Hell yeah, you were. You pressed into him, lips capturing his in a sweet kiss. It was nothing like romance stories describe; no fireworks or anything magical. It was, however, the feeling of returning home after a long day. You melted into his embrace as his lips moved against yours, slowly. His arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you into him, your chest pressing into his. You stayed like that, lips chasing after each other, for only a few moments before pulling away.

A shy smile graced both of your lips, the both of you blushing. "I'm gonna win you a plushie," Kai announced, tugging on your hand and puling you towards one of the many crane machines. He was tugging on your heart, too. You weren't thinking of any worst-case scenarios anymore. No, you were just thinking how much you wanted to kiss him again.

a/n: i wrote this about 2 weeks before publishing and as i am finalizing all the details to publish it, im reading again and oh my god im kicking my feet and squealing!!!

Reconnect taglist (open): @windex-princess-ami @missychief1404 @n1k1mura @hanniemylovelyquokka @prettyxxxplease

Permanent Taglist (open): @junnmizz @ashxxgyu @igotkpoops @xiaoderrrr @alyssajavenss @mintxts <3

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callmejod · 5 months

Note

Yey! I love him so much but there is so little for him! Could you do a headcanon for him falling in love again (reciprocated) post potc please- if we pretend he didn't die. Pretty please.

Hohohohohohohoho this was also on my mind for a few weeks

Had to mill it over the last few days, sorry for not responding. I also wrote this for an entire day so I hope you like it.

Kinda oc reader, foreign!reader, James being down bad for the reader , reader being too good to be true

This got really long so bare with me

I don't know if I'm even able to write short fics

So the jist is :

If he didn't die and came back to Port Royal as Admiral Norrgington - he would be happy he got his career, his honor and his purpose back.

Living on the sea has changed him. He no longer could stand this uptight, fake world that Port Royal thrives in. The cravats, the paperwork, the wigs. Fuck, he couldn't breathe most of the time, always sweaty in the thousand-layer suits, head itching from both the powder and the weigt of his hats. Having to sit through those god awful formal dinners, balls that bring nothing but superficial gossip was nothing but pure torture. Don't get me wrong - he's grateful for being able to even attend them, but the honest, freeing way of pirate life has broken him out of the cage of chaperoned conversations with ladies and standoffish men making fools out of themselves. He remembers the joyous dancing, full of fluidity and life, now having to endure stiff, distant and "civilised" english dancing.

One day, while having a conversation with one of the Ports ministers he hears about a merchant who's come from afar. He knows of your stay at Jamaica. He had a few documents regarding your long stay brought to his office to sign. Your ship suffered damage in a run-in with pirates and had a lot of repairs to do. A gorgeous vessel. He wonders if the captain is as handsome as their ship. Hopes he gets to meet you before you leave. You only arrived four days ago, and already the talk of the ton. Impressive.

The men described you as lively, wild as a tropical storm. The ministers complained about your accent, your way of dressing, your carefreeness, anything they can put a pin in, they do. James feels quite uncomfortable listening to the convesation not being able to put in anything. He then sets his mind to finding out who you are - he has grown out of judging a person by word from another mouth.

That encounter came earlier than he expected. And to be frank - saved him from a horrible stack of particularily boring paperwork. Having you barge in full-force into his office steaming mad, followed by two petrified soldiers was not something on his agenda. He noticed the few things the ministers mentioned - clothes of unusual cut and style, quite tasteful if his opinion was concerned, hair and hairstyle so different from locals that there was no mistaking you. You were the eccentric foreigner. But fawning over your beauty was for another time - now he had an angry merchant going off about something he both didn't listen to for a while and frankly, couldn't really understand due to your speed of speech.

'S-sorry could you slow down a second. I'm afraid I'm loosing some of what you're saying."

'Sir they need to make an appoin-'

'It's fine gentlemen, this must be urgent if I am needed. Please, let us speak in private.'

After the guards step out, he offers you to sit and something to drink.

'I have no need for no courtesy Admiral. I need a problem fixed. You can skip this stupid charade.'

'Oh, then it is more serious than I've thought. What is the problem?'

'Those - those'

You wave your hand in the air to make him help you find a word.

'Minosters of yours'

'Ministers?'

'Yes! Those idiots. They won't let me handle my own ship the way it needs to be. It needs to be seen by - argh!'

Your frustration runs high. He smiles.

'There's no need to stress. You mean carpenters? Is there a problem with the wood of your ship?'

'Are those who work with wood?'

'Yes, so you need to hire carpenters and the dock officials won't let you? That is strange. You have registered your stay and gave us all the documents we need.'

'But they don't!!'

You grab his forearm and try dragging him out of the office. He slows you down and explains that he will talk to them, just let him take a few things. You scoff and cross your arms.

'You English and your weird rules. Wasting time and not helping.'

He couldn't agree with you more. He smiles and starts walking out. When you two make your way to the port, he has difficulty keeping his pace with you - passersby stare at you storming off to port with their Admiral desperately trying to keep up with you. You sometimes mumble curses in languages he does not ever try to understand, but you two make your way faster than he realised was possible.

There you stomp to an official, who not seeing James trailing behond you shouts:

'Ow piss of ya cunt! I won't let you disgrace our carpenters by working on a ship that carries your kind!'

James is stunned you don't rip his head off when he sees your fists clench by your sides. Anger nips at his mind, how dare he treat you like this?! When slows his pace and asks in a flat voice:

'What do you mean "their kind"? Is that how my officials treat esteemed, foreign guests? And how dare you use such language to a person that was only looking for your help.'

The man's face whites and he starts to stutter an apology, but James stops it and sends him to get carpenters. Admiral's orders. When the official slips away to fill his duty, James turns to you and starts profusely apologising for the incompetence of his subordinates.

He's horrified when you inform him, that this is not the first - ha!, only time of being mistreated because of your looks or manner of speech. Anger boils in him when he hears that not only you, but majority of your crew had to endure this for a while now, accomodation denied not by matter of the lack of, but prejudice. Before he even thinks, he immedeately offers you a place in his home - something that brings surprise to you both. He cannot stand the thought you had to sleep on your ship when there was far grater comforts available.

He flushes red and again apologises for being inappropraite, but gets cut off by your boisterous laughter. The sound hypnotises him, seeing you smile for the first time makes his heart bang on his ribs. You laugh so hard tears come to you eyes and a shortness of breath. He cares not that many are looking at you two or the impropriatey of the situation. Time freezes for him. There's only you and him.

'Oh admiral, you are funny. I cannot leave my men to sleep on the ship when I am given all comforts of life.'

James flushes again and meekly asks:

'Then would you accept a simple dinner as an apology for your mistreatement?'

He almost doubles over when you beam at him and accept. The way you look at him so amused - he would make the biggest fool out of himself just to keep that look in your eyes. You set a date for a few weeks later and James makes sure that your your crew is not being mistreated anymore than they already have. Of course, Gilette and Groves relentlessly teased him for his obvious affection towards you. They weren't surprised though, it was hard not to even tolerate you.

Over those few weeks he started to watch you closely. Both of you were invited for a few balls, and the conversations you two had were the most fulfilling he had in a long long time. Your knowledge of the sea, of literature, politics and history had impressed him and added a new dimention to your person - not only beautiful, but wise.

He saw you many times playing with children on the street, helping people in need, play-fighting with young boys, showing them your battle scars and sometimes even your handpistol or sword.

You brought an air of freshness to the stuffy, ever "proper" society of Port Royal. You smiled often, you were polite to those who deserved it, made an effort to not be a bother. Yet, you never hesitated to get you crew in line when they were causing a ruckus.

Your manner of speech was charming, that certain twang to english and he would be a liar if he denied finding your way of trying to remember words or coming up with new ones when you couldn't was not adorable. Talking with using your hands was also a thing he found endearing. He would deny it to his grave in front of you, die of embarrasment if you knew. He heard that you got into a heated conversation with your first officer, and while talking with using your hands smacked a passing lady in the face. Apologised a lot and brought her an apology gift in form of a few yards of stunning blue silk. The dress she had comissioned to be made of it was breathtaking. But nothing could ever compare to your beauty.

All this was just pulling him into your direction. And when the awaited evening came, James was so nervous about everithing being perfect. You were perfect so your expectations were not to be let down. But, you being you, as if feeling his nervousness arrived early and instead of courtsies and stiff welcomes hugged him like a family member long missed.

As the dinner went on, your conversation flowed over many topics, never ending, never boring. You moved to the sitting room, where to James' torture you sprawled yourself over a love seat and rested. He sat, watching you strech like cat, admiring you quietly. You made eye contact with him and asked :

'James, would you like me to court you?'

He choked on his spit. In a coughing attack, he flushed so red, you jumped to your feet and held his shoulder to try and help. After a while of hacking and a visit from a concerned maid, he stopped and looked at you, not knowing what to say. He saw the unceirtainty in your eyes, even hurt.

'Do you not wish me to court you, James?'

His eyes widened. After years of endlessly chasing Elizabeth's affection, you being so open about it shocked him. He knew he harboured feelings for you but never imagined that feeling would be reciprocated. He took your hands and squeezed them.

'I was just cuaght off guard, dear don't worry. It's standard for men here to ask someone to court.'

'So I'm supposed to wait forever? You have been open with your feelings, but I am an impatient person James. I do not make games.'

'Play games?'

'Is that how you say it?"

James chuckled an held a hand to your face. That prompted you to surge forward and kiss him. For a second, he froze in surprise but leaned into you, sighing into the kiss. You threw your arms over his shoulders and he moaned.

That made you break apart from him and look into the sea green of his eyes. Your warm breath fanned his face, heating it impossibly more. You seemed lost in them and made him nervous that he did something wrong. Seeing his concern, you locked your lips again in a gentle kiss. God, he never wanted it to end. He smiled into the kiss, making you giggle. You two broke apart and looked at each other.

James then spoke :

'I would very much like you to court me, if you let me do the same.'

'Finally making some sense, James.'

#james norrington #james norrington x reader #commodore norrington #admiral james norrington #potc #potc fanfiction

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haru-natsuka · 1 year

Text

The fate (Anastacius x Female Reader x Claude)

Chapter 4 : An angel

Pain was not something he was not familiar with whether it is in physical or emotional form. He was hated by the empress and his own father. His bestowed name was proof of it. His body was hurting so much and whatever he tried to do, it just never went away. This is it, maybe his body had finally given up to fight and yet he received help to let him survive. He could barely open his eyes but he recognised that radiant light shine in front of him. Claude, for the first time, witnessed an angel...

Female reader will be named as Celestrial

I know it is Athy but let's pretend for this to be Claude😌

After three days Celestial passed out, only then did she regain consciousness. Ethan, her personal bodyguard did convey to her that the crown prince kept on visiting her every day as whenever he had free time, he would stay by her side the entire time. Might be out of responsibility as she did help Claude before. He even wanted to call for the royal physician but Ethan never let him, which was a great decision as no one should know the power she held. It might be used as her weakness one day.

Celestial woke up and the only person accompanying her was her bodyguard and the crown prince still yet not paid her a visit due to his tight schedule for the day. It was not like she wanted to meet him anyway as she desired to do the opposite. She wanted to avoid the endless question about her power or what she did for Claude. No, she never wanted to share the information at all. She did save the second prince out of humanity and sympathy so the other side should only be grateful right?

With a new set of floral dress that just reached up to her knees, the princess went to the garden filled with a field of white flowers which happens to be part of the view of her room. She laid down on the ground where the height of the flower was enough to cover her tiny body. Somehow, the scent from the white flowers were followed by the scent of serenity. Having time for yourself sometimes was just a good feeling to have. Celestial closed her eyes to appreciate the cozy warmth of the sun more which unconsciously drove her to the dreamland.

Although the princess fell asleep, she still had a high sense of her surroundings. Being born royal just turns you to be alert of your surroundings in case danger would approach even if Ethan would always be around her. It is just better to be as careful and cautious as possible. Therefore, when she heard a rustling sound near her, her pair of violet eyes immediately opened, only to find someone was staring back at her.

The intruder bore the same crystal blue eyes of the royals as Prince Anastacius. Celestial almost thought it was the second prince if it was not for the braid hair. The doe eyes of the person in front of her keep staring back at her like she was scanning her entire being. Was there another illegitimate child of the emperor? An abandoned princess perhaps?

"Angel..." The child whispers quietly as her hands reach out for Celestial's face. Her fingertips caress the cheek part lightly as she admires the said angel who appeared to be around the same age as her. As if she was finally out of her trance, she pulled back her hand in flustered.

"I'm sorry for being so rude. Forgive me"

"It's fine though. I don't mind, princess" Celestial sat up so the girl had no need to look down at her and yet as their gaps became closer, the little girl tried to back away from her. It looked like she wanted to run away from Celestial but at the same time she wanted to stay. This little girl had low self esteem and there was only a way to approach someone like this.

"Your braids look so pretty. Does the maid do it for you?" Complimenting someone's appearance was the best way to boost the confidence of others. Celestial compliment was never a lie as indeed she admired the little girl's cute looks. She always loved anything that was cute looking in her eyes and this girl was one of them.

"No, it's my bro-" The little girl averted her eyes to the side as she fiddled with her fingers while trying to communicate with Celestial. Her words were cut short when another intruder came into the place. The person who the Selene's princess tried to avoid from.

"Claude, you are running too fast and it's good to see you again, Princess Celestrial." The crown princess lightly jogged to join the two.

"Same goes for me, Prince Anastacius." Celestial greeted the prince back out of politeness as in truth, she just wanted to hide herself or her effort to avoid the prince today would be in vain. She could only hope he would not mention it at all. The little girl from before hid herself behind Anastacius as she peeked her head a bit to look at Celestial.

"Now, Claude. Dont be shy to greet the princess. She is kind, I assure you." Anastacius tried to persuade his little brother to introduce himself by changing the position of him and his brother so his brother would be in front of him.

"This is your brother? I mistaken him for your sister for a while there, Prince Anastacius"

"Is it because of his hair? I played with my mana before and tried to style it but somehow it turned into braids and princess, in this kingdom there is only both of us. Claude, I will change your hair back to normal." Anastacius explained the situation.

"No, I don't want to. I would like to keep it." Claude distanced himself with his brother a bit so his older brother could not change his new hair style.

"Don't you hate it? You even run away because you are mad at me."

"Not anymore..." Bashfully he uttered the words while sneekly glances back at the princess.

"Let it undone by itself then. Now, Claude, introduce yourself to the princess."

"Greetings, Princess Celestrial. I'm the second prince of Obelian...." There was a long pause as the little brother was contemplating his decision to tell her his name. He was very embarrassed of his own name as it did not share the meaning as great as Anastacius, instead his name meant something to be looked down to, crippled.

"...Claude de alger Obelia. Nice to meet you. You can just call me second prince" He chose to still let the princess know. Sooner or later should find out eventually his big brother even addressed him that before. However, he still did not want himself to be called by his name. Bad names like his should not be remembered after all, especially someone as radiant as her.

"I'm sorry if this sounds impolite but may I call you by your name, Your Highness? You have such a great name as in my country, your name has the meaning of strong willed." Celestial was not dumb to notice Claude reluctant in mentioning his name so she just encouraged him that his name was wonderful by stating the truth.

"Look Claude. I told you, your name has a great meaning!" Anastacius tried to motivate his brother more.

"Uhhh...sure, the princess can call me Claude." The redness on his cheeks brightened more as he was shy and it might become worse as time goes by.

"Thank you, Prince Claude" Celestial just wanted to pinch that cute chubby cheek of the second prince. She was glad she could be a help during the difficult time for the prince. A feeling of protectiveness filled her heart the more she looked at the boy.

@fluffy-koalala

Chapter 3 << Previous, Next >> Chapter 5

#anastacius de alger obelia #anastacius x reader #claude de alger obelia #claude x reader #wmmap #wmmap fanfic #wmmap anastacius #romance #who made me a princess #wmmap x reader #wmmap claude #manhwa #manhwa x reader

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stayteezdreams · 2 months

Note

Hiii!~ Sorry for taking so long to request a fate ship. Could I get a few?? I'd like Stray Kids Box 5 Card #26. Ateez Box 1 Card 11. With Prompt 40 for the Stray Kids Ship?? Thank you!

Hi! Thank you! And no worries :)

I hope you like the ships!

Stray Kids:

And your Fate Ship is...

Changbin!

Prompt #40: “How long have you had this planned?” “Since the moment I fell in love with you.”

Forever

Your day had been ordinary for the most part. Following the same routine the whole day. Not boring, but not fun. The only thing that was a bit different, was Changbin.

He hadn't been texting you as often as normal, though it didn't throw any red flags your way. He had been busy with an upcoming album and you knew that. Though the lack of communication with your boyfriend did prove to make your day a little less bright.

You only grew more suspicious, when Changbin suddenly began asking you question after question. Where are you? What are you up to? When would you be done? When could you come over?

He seemed needy in slightly different way than normal and it was making you wonder what was going on. Was he stressed? Did he need help with something?

Pushing aside the rest of your schedule you told him you'd be free whenever he wanted you. Then suddenly, the texts stopped. You were met with silence as quickly as you had been bombarded.

And now you were worried.

As your anxiety grew it was finally alleviated when he texted you asking to come by his dorm at 7pm, and to dress nicely.

After thinking on it a while, you thought maybe he was going to surprise you with a date. He had done it before, usually during times like now when you hadn't been able to see each other as often.

You of course acted nonchalant, not wanting to ruin whatever surprise he had planned. Though, when you arrived at his dorm, you were the one left surprised.

"Binnie!" You greeted as you entered the dorm, only to find flowers, candles, and balloons everywhere. The dorm had been transformed into what looked like a fancy hotel dining room.

In the middle of the dorm was a table with a white tablecloth. On the table were various foods, all of which looked homemade. In the background soft music played as the lights were dimmed to match the atmosphere.

Your heart was racing as you looked around. "Changbin?" You called out again, wondering where he was. Had you come in too early?

Shocked by your surroundings you hadn't heard him approach you from behind. Softly clearing his throat he called your name and you spun around in surprise.

Your eyes dropped down to meet his, where he was kneeling on one knee in front of you. Your mouth opened in surprise as your breath caught in your throat.

In his hands Changbin was holding a small case with a ring that looked as though it was made specifically with you in mind. Which later on you would find out was exactly true.

"Binnie" You finally whispered out, your heart racing so hard you almost felt dizzy.

"Hi baby." He began, his voice obviously nervous as he spoke. "I know our anniversary isn't for a couple more weeks, but I couldn't wait that long. I need you to know just how much I love you. And just how much I want to be by your side for the rest of our lives."

You felt tears brimming at your eyes as you looked down at him. You wanted to leap into his arms and kiss him a thousand times, but you resisted, letting him finish.

"Every day I get to call you mine is the best day of my life. There are times when we don't get to see each other very often, I get stuck with work, and tour, but you always wait for me. I am grateful every day you choose me, when I am so unworthy of your love. But I will stay grateful for the rest of our lives, and I will work as hard as I can to make you happy."

"Binnie I'm the one who's unworthy of you."

He shook his head quickly, "No, you're wrong." He stood up, and stepped forward. "I never thought I would have someone who loves me like you do. And I never thought I would love someone as much as I love you." Using his free hand, he caressed your face. "Will you let me love you like this for the rest of our lives? Will you marry me?"

You barely gave him time to finished his question before you were jumping his his rms, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Yes! Of course I will marry you!"

He grinned happily as he held you tightly in his arms, never wanting to let you go.

Finally settling, and staring happily down at the ring on your finger you grinned at him. "How long have you had this planned?"

"Since the moment I fell in love with you. I knew I wanted to marry you a long time ago. But I thought it might be kind of crazy if I proposed after a couple months."

You laughed as you reached forward, taking his face in your hands as you pressed a kiss to his lips.

"Then I'd probably be crazy too, cause I would have said yes."

Ateez:

And your Fate Ship is...

Wooyoung!!

#changbin x reader #changbin/reader #changbin imagine #changbin drabble #stray kids imagine #stray kids drabble #stray kids x reader #stray kids/reader #skz imagine #fate ship #fate ship drabble #anon ship

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wuffgang-ameowdeus-moozart · 1 year

Text

1 2 3 (can also be read as a standalone)

my awesome steve playlist ; Ao3

STEVE LOOKS AT HIS BIG EMPTY HOUSE AND THINKS FUCK IT

(ft. the beginnings of a beautiful friendship and shitting on the school dress code)

Steve has always been fascinated by the act of creating.

His father is a very strict and traditional man. Everything has a specific way it ought to be, and anything that deviates from this fixed set of beliefs is simply wrong. (No, don't go into the kitchen, Stephen. Why do you need so long to get ready, Stephen. This type of music isn't fit for a Harrington, Stephen.)

He finds it kind of ironic. According to the bible, Eve was created from Adam's rib. And yet, according to his father, it is only the woman that creates. It is the woman who creates homemade meals for the rest of the family. It is the woman who creates tales and stories to put the children to sleep. It is the woman who creates patterns and fabric and clothing out of loose textiles and yarn.

Steve isn't completely sure what the man is supposed to do. When his father is home, he mostly disappears in his study or watches TV. (Steve finds it kind of sad)

He supposes he should be grateful that his father is always so eager to leave. Maybe he would have convinced Steve of this trist world he seems to live in if he had had more time to whisper it into his ears. But as things are, Steve loves to create. It soothes something deep in his soul to watch his weird little trauma-bonded ragtag group of kids engorge themselves on a meal that he created. (And Hopper. Nobody appreciates his cooking more than Hopper.) It makes him feel in peace with himself to start his day by fertilizing and watering and occasionally repotting his plants. (The Golden Girls seem to be particularly effective in that regard). It makes him feel accomplished to see his babies thriving and growing, a visible proof of being needed. It makes him feel more comfortable in his own skin to be able to create a more genuine version of himself - with his face as his canvas - one he can somewhat recognize in the mirror.

He'd like to say that he managed to free himself of most prejudices his father somewhat attempted to breed into him by the time he is slinging ice cream at Scoops Ahoy! . (To say that his father tried his hardest when it came to anything regarding his family would be a gross overstatement.)

Steve had not been a good student.

First he threw meaningless party after meaningless party in an attempt to fill all the empty space his parents left behind.

Then he got together with Nancy, and he had never studied more. Which would've been great, if something about her learning style didn't just refuse to work with him. All the stupid facts he needed to know just didn't want to get into his head (he was trying, okay?! He tried to explain it to Nancy when she said that he was smart and just had to "apply himself more". But "this is just too boring" sounds like a weak excuse even to his own ears. And he really tries to be less lazy, everyone else seems to manage it just fine, but he just can't do it.

He leaned into it after a while. Pretended to be more dumb and oblivious and obtuse than he really is. Because then it wouldn't be his fault. It would be something outside of his control. Bad genes or just rotten luck.

It hurt a bit, how easily people believed him. And you know what they say, if you hear something often enough....)

And after that he was a bit too busy being terrified 24/7 and trying to deal with the aftermath of multiple concussions on his own. He was honestly surprised that he actually managed to graduate, half-expected to become another Eddie Munson.

That is all to say that you really don't have to be fucking Einstein to realize that skimpy sailor clothing that barely manages to cover your butt does not mesh well with ice cream that needs to be kept in negative temperatures at all times. But Scoops Ahoy! would need to actually care about its employees to change something about it, which - especially with communists and socialists and whatnot hiding in every corner wanting nothing more than to destroy America or something - was not very likely. To say the least.

One day Steve wakes up with a running nose and an itch in the back of his throat. It is not enough to call in sick, but it is enough for him to think fuck it and bundle up in a scarf and a cashmere jacket that actually belongs to his mother (it is ridiculously soft and it matches to the rest of the outfit so leave him alone, okay?!). As long as he is still wearing the stupid sailor's hat management can't complain.

Or that is what he thinks. Until his boss decides that today of all days is a great day to go to the mall, another jackass (that he is going to kill very slowly and painfully) loudly complains about the extra layers (THAT HE IS WEARING SO HE WON'T BECOME SICK AND THUS BE ABLE TO WORK MORE?!), and boss takes that as his cue to stomp into Scoops and loudly lecture him about "branding" and "marketability" and "wasted assets". Of course the universe decides that right now is not the absolutely perfect time to make a Demogorgon appear that releases everyone present from their misery. He barely has left the shop again when Robin is already laughing so hard she has to take her break earlier.

The next time he looks at the damned board there is another point under the "you suck" column. He argues that he should get one in the "you rule" category simply because someone looked at him in this horrible horrible uniform and thought that hiding all this was enough of a crime to literally complain to his boss. He must be a truly pitiful sight because she eventually relents.

Here is the thing about Robin. She is funny. She is snarky. She knew who he was in Highschool - hell, she was part of the group he used to terrorize for no reason - but she doesn't hold it against him. Sure, she will make fun of him and the "you suck" - game (which he insists should be renamed to the "you rule" - game) certainly wasn't his idea. But it doesn't feel angry or malicious. At least not anymore. Sure, her only way of communication seems to be bad jokes at his expense and she doesn't really notice when she occasionally crosses a line. But it still somehow feels like she is laughing with and not at him. (Maybe it helps that she makes self-deprecating jokes about herself as well.)

But the best part is how he doesn't disappoint her. You can't let someone down who has no expectations in you on the first place, though she manages it in a way that doesn't feel like a weight in his chest like it does with his parents.

He loves Nance (even though he thinks he is finally starting to fall out of love with her), but she never quite could hide her disappointment when weeks of studying together ended up in an average grade at best. And the little shitheads, god bless them. He knows they don't do it on purpose and that he is just being too sensitive, especially because he himself does nothing to convince them of the opposite, but it kind of stings when literal newborns who will probably get scholarships to ivy league in the future keep calling him stupid. It is, admittedly, pretty demeaning.

With Robin, there is none of that. Sure, she has better grades than him (not that that is particularly hard) and will probably be able to get out of this hellish place when she graduates, but for now they are both working at a dead-end customer-service and extenuating circumstances like those tend to bind people together. He would know. An angry customer can be scarily similar to a literal demogorgon.

The next day his nose is still running and his throat is still hurting and he seriously considers coughing into their sortiment as a rebellion of sorts more than once. Robin, of course, is having the time of her life.

"It's like the opposite of the school dress code", she jokes. "Don't you dare hide too much skin, young man, or you won't distract the potential customers!" He snorts at her exaggerated and yet eerily accurate imitation of their boss.

Then he has an idea. "Ooohhh, I know this face" Robin sinsongs rubbing her hands together. "This is your 'I'm going to do something stupid' face. You wear it concerningly often."

"Correction, Buckley. You are going to help me, and we are going to do something stupid. Together. It's not very patriotic to abandon your brother in arms in the trenches like that, you know."

She takes a sceptical look at their tiny shop. "Don't take it personally. But if there was a war. And our country was this Scoops Ahoy. I would rather join the dark side than help my brother-in-arms"

"You mean you would rather murder me than", he takes a significant look to the freezer hidden in the back, "chill with me here?!". She punches him (Robin is surprisingly strong for someone with such noodle arms), and sighs deeply in a way only underpaid customer-service-workers can relate to when a group of teenagers crowds the counter. Steve can't help his smug little smirk as they serve the group together and knows it is taking Buckley everything she has not to punt him in the face. She is totally going to be an idiot with him.

They need a second whiteboard, but Robin refuses to let the "you suck"-game go, so they pool their money together and buy the cheapest one they can find.

The first step is easy: Robin needs to find out all the dress code rules in Hawkins High and write them on their new board.

Then it is Steve's time to get to work.

Experiment #1: Fingertip Rule

"The length of skirts, skorts, and shorts must extend below the student's fingertips when the student's arms are extended at his/her sides."

"Soooo.....am I just going to have to find like....massive socks."

They stare at each other.

Steve raises one of his brows (he is proud of that one). Robin blows him a Raspberry. Steve bites his lower lip to stop himself from smiling. Robin is the first to break, this time. She bursts out laughing. He consoles himself with the thought that at least he won their little stare contest. Plus, with a big of luck and tigh-high socks, maybe this annoying not-quite-cold will finally go away.

The worst part of having completely cutt off contact with everyone in his grade is that he has nothing to do. Everyone he would be willing to spend time with is in fucking school so he has the whole fucking morning to do lots of big old nothings.

So maybe he had an ulterior motive when he suggested this little experiment. One that had nothing to do with a sore throat or a running nose. (He suspects that Robin is aware of that, too. But for once in her life she actually knows when to shut up, so whatever.)

That day he drives out of the parking lot and turns his beloved car in the opposite direction of his home. Sure, he could buy the yarn and the sewing supplies in Hawkins, and his father probably wasn't planning on going to that particular shop anytime soon. But Steve has nothing but time and it is always better to be safe rather than sorry. (Which is also why he always carries a bat full of nails in his trunk.)

It is only when he is already halfway there that he remembers that he is still wearing that stupid fucking uniform. Fuck. But it's okay. It's fine. He just can't let Robin find out that he forgot to take it off and had to actually interact with real people (they've decided pretty early on that customers don't count as those) while wearing it. The only worse thing would be to admit defeat and drive all the way back only to change clothes. Like, he doesn't really have standards or self-respect anymore, but that is a bit pathetic even for him.

And how good a decision that ended up being. As soon as he enters the girl at the counter gives him an appreciative once-over. He brushes away some of his hair almost on autopilot. He isn't sure what about sailor-themed polyester seems to work with so many people, but he sure isn't going to look a gift-horse in the mouth. Steve Harrington may not be very good in a great many things, but one thing he can do well is people. He is good at assessing other's intentions, knows how to be charming or how to subtly suggest an idea (manipulation is such a strong word) and project a certain image. He wasn't called the King for nothing, after all.

He stays way longer than he initially intended, but he is pretty sure the girl gave him a bit of a discount, plus she actually taught him the basics of knitting, so he is not going to complain. (At first she thought it was his way to get closer to her, but about five minutes in she realized he was way too intense about it for it to be solely that). So maybe he actually will be telling Robin of his little mishap so she has no choice but to give him another point in the "you rule" column.

The next day, for the first time in what feels like an eternity (he and time have always had a complicated relationship), he does not start his day sitting his butt in front of the TV boring himself to death until it is time to go to work.

Well, that is a lie. He does sit on his sofa the whole time. And he does have the TV on for some background noise. But instead of flipping through channels until he finds something he can at least pretend to be somewhat interested in, he takes everything he bought yesterday afternoon and starts knitting.

Or well, to say that he immediately started knitting would perhaps also not be too accurate. First he stares at the newly-bought yarn for who knows how long trying to decide on a color. His petty petty heart is begging for him to use the orange that clashes horribly with the navy blue of the uniform, but at the same time he should probably not immediately start with the worst possible combination, no matter how much he may want to. Instead, after a frankly embarrassing amount of contemplation, he decides to start with the red. It fits with the accents, and the blue doesn't become too overpowering. Then he begins. For real this time.

Or well. He tries. Turns out knitting is much more complicated when you don't have a cute girl next to you to correct you when you mess up. By the time he has to go to work, he has achieved a whole lot of nothing. (He had been pretty proud of his little square until he noticed that something was wrong and it was lopsided and weird and he couldn't exactly pinpoint it but it was bothering him so he undid all his progress and then had to run to his car when he realized he was already late for work.)

When he arrives he is out of breath and his hair more disheveled than he would normally allow, but he is also only ten minutes late and wasn't stopped by the police for speeding so he sees it as a win. He starts questioning his assertion when his lovely co-worker raises both her eyebrows, quirking her lips (She can't raise just one, which is half the reason why he does it). He follows her gaze.

"Hey, you can't expect me to finish two tigh-high socks in less than a day."

"I'm not looking at you inexistent socks, dingus"

"Interesting fashion choices, your majesty. Got your panties in a twist?"

Steve looks at Eddie Munson who seems to have appeared out of nowhere. Steve looks down. Steve sees that in his hurry he accidentally put his shorts on the wrong way around. Steve lets out a deep deep sigh.

The nice girl (he swears it was something starting with 'H'. Heather? Hannah?) said that she needs about three days for a pair of socks. Considering that, Steve doesn't think his one week is too shabby.

Of course, stupid innocent soul that he was, he once again managed to destroy all his work by letting it shrink in the wash. She (Helena? Hayley?) really hadn't been exaggerating when she said that knitting is at least as much unmaking as actually creating.

Six days later he arrives at Scoops on time for the first time in a week. (It had become personal, okay?! Not his fault time decided to fuck with him specifically for some ungodly reason)

He can see the exact moment Robin sees the high socks that go exactly as high as his fingertips reach - her mouth actually falls open. Her eyes widen further into an honestly comedic degree when he takes out the pair that had shrunken while washing.

"Buckley up", he says, finding himself very funny. "Brothers in arms, remember?"

Steve isn't sure if he should consider himself lucky or despair when their beloved boss actually graces them with his presence. Sure, all this had originally started as a way to see how much clothing is too much clothing according to the higher-ups. But his socks took a lot of work and it is very refreshing (ha!) not to have to freeze his legs off for multiple hours.

He takes a look at their whole fit and turns to Steve. "Harrington, didn't we already have this conversation less than a month ago?"

"While, yes, it may seem like that", Robin interrupts, manager always having had a noticeable preference towards her for some reason, "this actually doesn't conceal any of the important bits." Both visibly wince at that last part. She points towards the sliver of skin between where his shorts end and his socks begin. "According to school dress code, this is plenty distracting. You wouldn't disagree with the school principal who is responsible for the education of literally the entire town, right sir?"

At seeing the skepsis in his gaze Steve quickly intervenes. "Plus, I mean, the customers can barely see it anyway. You know, because we are standing behind the counter. So it doesn't make that big of a difference. And I'm still a bit sick". He coughs for good measure.

The boss looks at both of them with raised brows (Steve admittedly feels a sense of superiority at knowing his boss also can't raise only one like he can) and a long-suffering look as if he were the one who can look forward to two more hours of customer service. For a second Steve is absolutely sure that because of this idiotic little joke he and Robin are going to be fired on the spot. Instead he lets out a long deep sigh and nods in defeat before leaving them alone.

Robin immediately goes for the high-five. "Oh my god this was so great. Did you see his face?! Like-" , she makes a face that looks nothing like his had "Oh my god. I can't wait for the second experiment. This is going to be so much fun!"

This time it is Steve's turn to look at her incredulously. Maybe Robin is part of the group of degenerate people his father always warned him about.

Experiment #2: Hosiery Rule

"tights, leggings, or other types of hosiery must be accompanied by a fingertip length or longer top or dress."

The second their boss's eyes had narrowed at the sight of his socks, Steve had decided that he had enough. He actually needed this job - not in the least because he would probably die from boredom, and who would be there to protect the kids then?

But he hadn't counted on Robin's delight at sucking it up to the school dress code (even if nobody AT school knows of their nefarious deeds) and by the time the shift was over she had somehow convinced him to wear tight leggings instead of the demanded shorts. "The more see-through the better", were her exact words. At least he managed to stop her from going straight to the shoulder rule - he wasn't sure he was ready to destroy one of the uniforms he'd had to pay out of own pocket for this little game of theirs.

So as soon as Steve gets home he goes to the first guest room (he isn't sure what fight had had her barging into the bathroom with tears in her eyes years ago, but his parents hadn't slept in the same bed since. The only reason it is still called the "guest room" and not "his mother's room" is because married couples don't do that. Apparently. If that is what a marriage looks like, Steve would rather stay single forever. And why had he come here again? Oh, yeah. Leggings.

He approaches her drawers and prays that she has left behind at least one pair of yoga pants. He refuses to actually spend money because of this bullshit. (Okay, maybe that isn't strictly true. Because even worse than wasting money on a stupid pair he will only wear once and could possibly get him fired is the thought of Robin being mad or disappointed at him.)

Not for the first time he thinks that his mother must have had a wild past she never talks about. If he had to describe the woman in one word it would be classy. Her posture is always as straight as a flight attendant's or a model's. Her wardrobe consists of muted whites and creams. Maybe the occasional black if she is feeling especially bold. Her jewelry is always small but tasteful ("if it's too big, it's tacky. It makes you look desperate to prove something or to flaunt your wealth"). Her makeup, just like everything else, is elegant and purposeful. Classy.

But then El rummaged through her makeup drawers and somehow found a bold black eyeshadow palette with a cracked mirror (his mother is always very careful with her belongings). Or her son will to through her clothes in an attempt to find a pair of see-through skin-tight leggings that fit him and the only pair he can find is a truly abhorrent screaming orange.

He remembers how he considered making the socks orange to clash with the uniform and just barely stops himself from hitting his head against the wall. Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny. Good one universe or god or whoever the fuck.

The next day he goes to work wearing the fucking horrible leggings. Robin does not look appreciatively enough of his sacrifice, which is probably because he knew he would never be able to step out of his car if he didn't cover it with some black jeans, at least on his way over to Scoops.

She understands his debacle when he goes to the back to take off his normal and socially acceptable pants and comes out wearing that thing he still can't believe he actually found in his mother's closet. Easy for her to laugh, considering her nice and non-offensive navy blue pair. She went through with her own advice and one can clearly see where her underwear begins. Steve is pretty sure that it is in no way appropriate to make fun of that. But Robin makes jokes about how he is never going to amount to anything and he is STILL wearing the worst clothes he has ever laid his eyes on for her, so he thinks he has earned the right. As expected, she punches him in the arm and screams at him for looking. (Never mind that he wasn't, it is just pretty impossible to ignore, okay?!) She wants to put on the extra shorts she started storing here after she accidentally let a huge ice cream cone with fudge and sprinkles fall on her and had to finish the rest of her shift with sticky clothes - yes, Steve did obviously make inappropriate jokes about that, although not nearly as many as he would today. He reminds her that the entire reason they are doing this is to be inappropriate, and that if she can cover her old grandma undergarments (Hey, I want to see you stand around for over an hour wearing fucking lingerie, asshole) he can take off the orange eyesore he put on JUST FOR HER. A bit of pleading (he is not going to be the only embarrassed one today if it kills him) and they are both standing uncomfortably and trying to laugh it off when the tenth customer takes a judgemental look at their legs (if not an outright comment, thank you Tommy and Eddie.)

Steve doesn't try flirting with every cute girl that comes around and can confidently say that he has never felt less sexy in his life (and that is saying something, considering he has had a concerning amount of injuries and near-death experiences over the last two years). Robin decides to put the "You suck"- game on hold for one day because Steve argues that they should add a talley everytime she gets judged as well, and she can't find any convincing counter-arguments.

Things did not get much better when the boss came around. Steve is pretty sure Robin's whole underwear situation is the only reason they weren't fired on the spot. She looks approprietly grossed-out when he voices this thought.

If there is one positive thing about this whole experience, is that he has never felt so close to his coworker as today. Trauma truly is a hell of a bonding experience.

Experiment #3 Pyjamas:

"Hawkins High includes pajamas in the category of provocative clothing"

"We are not doing this."

"Yeah, no"

...

"Do you like, sleep in lingerie or something? like, why would pajamas-?!"

Experiment #4: Shoulder Rule

"tops that have less than two fingers width of coverage on the shoulders are prohibited for any student, and shirts that are cut like A-style under shirts or beach wear can't be worn by boys."

Steve's cold is finally completely gone, but this whole experiment has stopped being about that weeks ago (if it ever truly was.)

After the humiliating incident that had been the day before, Steve and Robin were in complete agreement that there was absolutely no way they were going to stop their little game now and let the fucking mess that had been yesterday be in vain.

And so they have unanimously decided to cross the one line Steve had secretly sworn to leave untouched: mutilate their uniforms.

Now, they are both aware that that is their most radical move yet. And although some non-believers will vehemently deny it, Steve and Robin (well, mostly Steve to be honest) are aware that purposely provoking other people will sooner or later bite you in the ass (especially if those people are above you in the hierarchy). And so, for the next week, both wear their regulated uniforms. Their poor boss looks so relieved Steve almost confesses that this is only the calm before the storm.

"Why shoulders, though?"

They have decided that they can continue with their plan. Or, well, Steve had been so distracted with his new plant (he bought a bonsai that he named after Robin instead of the golden girls so he could have the satisfaction of cutting her branches when she'd been particularly annoying at work). And his parents had randomly come back for like a week and his mom had left a lot of new makeup releases behind, which of course meant that he had to experiment. Plus summer vacation started, and his unofficial and unpaid job as a chaffeur for a bunch of preschoolers with it. These same preschoolers also started bothering him at work more often, which meant: 1. Robin now had a lot more fuel to make his life hell, and 2. He'd been very lucky the kids hadn't been to the mall on leggings day.

Which means that Steve hadn't even started the modifications yet. But Robin only remembered to bring an extra shirt their next shift together, so like, they are both at fault here.

"Like, what about that particular arm region makes the teachers so horny?"

"Oh my god Steve ew! The code isn't- well, now that i think of mister Bernd, yeah. Wouldn't surprise me."

"I know. And I am so glad to be out of that place. So, a month sound good?"

"Hey. If you can finish it in half that time I will deal with the hard costumers AND willingly clean the really gross and sticky shit."

"I don't..."

"And you get another "you rule"-point. If I do get fired I want to have a bit of the vacations left, man."

"Okay alright, I'll do my best"

"STEVE STEVE STEVE STEVE STEVE ST-"

"What the fuck you fucking menace what's wrong?!"

"WHAT DID HE SAY??"

Steve sighs. He is relieved to see Max spending so much time outside of the trailer but Jesus H. Christ. He carefully lets the needles that were previously residing more or less safely between his teeth fall on the table, makes absolutely sure that they are indeed on the table in front of him (cursed things must be from the upside down with how they keeps disappearing on him) and grabs for the walkie-talkie again.

"Lukas. Max. I said: What the fuck is wrong with you two? Care to answer in a normal volume, shitheads?"

"Where are you?"

"At home?? Where else would I be?!"

"Well, that is convenient!"

"What do you-"

"I don't know? You never have time anymore! I don't know what the fuck you keep doing all day?!"

"Language Max!"

There is a knock on the door. Convenient indeed. Steve sighs.

He manages to do it in one and a half weeks (he has found that knitting is very calming when the night is too dark and the memories feel too real)

At first he had wanted to try huge sleeves that swish when he moves his arm, but a) that would take even more time and b) it would fall into the ice cream and make a mess so he opted to make the already existing pattern in his handbook for beginners. Except with a hole where the shoulder is. And the blue also doesn't quite match the uniform. And Robin's arms a bit too skinny. So like, maybe it isn't perfect, but that isn't the point anyways. Nobody is perfect and shit.

The first people he knows who see him like this are Nancy and Jonathan. (They seem to be on a date. He is relieved when the realization doesn't hurt nearly as much as it once would have.) After the five longest minutes he has ever experienced, he is almost relieved when he sees their boss coming towards them. The relief quickly turns into terror when he sees the look on his face.

Robin follows his gaze. "Fuck." "Fuck indeed."

"Wait, you said that all this started because of the dress code bullshit, right?"

"Well, actually, it all started because some asshole out there is incredibly attracted to me-" Steve does not have time to finish his correct statement before the boss gets there.

"Buckley. Harrington. Why are you wearing-"

"Wow, Jonathan! Don't you think that Steve and Robin look absolutely dashing?"

"I- sure. They look... great. I definitely would not have come to Scoops Ahoy on this fine day if I hadn't seen their attractive....shoulders."

"Right? Where did you get those, Steve? I want to buy some, too!"

He has no time to see if their boss buys this extremely fake display before his heart stops in terror as he sees his kids stomping towards him. He tries to gesture for them to go away without his boss noticing. They purposefully misinterpret his flailing and walk faster.

"Hey Steve, what are you wearing?!"

"Yeah it looks so great doesn't it?", which prompts Mike to look at his sister as if she just murdered his puppy in front of him.

"Didn't these fresh new outfits make you want to eat ice cream more than ever before?" , Robin tries to salvage this complete dumpster fire.

Thankfully Jonathan and Will seem to have working sibling telepathy because the latter slowly nods. "Yes. I am never in more mood for ice cream than when my eyes are confronted with...long sleeves and...bony shoulders."

Somehow they actually manage to convince him. He isn't sure whether he really believed them (unlikely), he just got too tired of their shit (relatable) or just didn't want to do the extra work of finding someone else (which, understandable, but c'mon dude). Either way, what matters is that Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley remain with a steady (if meager) salary. Plus they had to swear to never pull such a stunt again, which Steve is honestly kind of relieved by.

Unfortunately this victory came at a cost: now the party knows he can knit.

"Hey grandma Steve! My sock has a hole. Can you fix it?"

"Hey Steve! Remember that apron we gave you when we found out you can actually cook? Wouldn't it be fair for you to knit costum shirts for us in return?"

"Hey Harrington. We've got this stray that sometimes wanders near our house and since you can apparently knit-"

When the Russians threatens to pull out his fingernails, his first thought is that he won't ever be able to finish the "Anti-Russia Squad" socks he was making for himself, Robin and Dustin.

When they are drugged out of their minds, Steve tells Robin he named a plant after her.

"Her name is Fuck You Motherfucking Robin Buckley Jesus H. Christ I Can't Stand You. Get it? Because then I don't actually insult you-

"You're just saying the name of the plant so technically you aren't cursing at me-"

"but at the same time i get it out of my chest!"

"oh my god i need a house plant so i can curse YOU without insulting you"

"rude but fair"

"except that i am so terrible at taking care of plants somehow they always...they always die"

(they are still crying half an hour later)

Steve's graduation present is a soulmates-sweater. One huge two people sweater. They wear it almost every day for like a month. (People keep assuming that they are dating which is really annoying because NO? THEY ARE BOTH VERY MUCH AVAILABLE?? Platonic with capital P? Why is that so hard to understand?)

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komaedailoveyou · 10 months

Text

Florist!Nagito x reader , Like a flower craves for the light of the sun

#. — an unfinished fanfic so far, more chapters tba in the future!

#. contents! — f!reader , slight komahina, slight chiakixreader, angst with a happy ending, alternate universe, no deaths or violence, depictions of BPD, smut, but, a LOT further into the fic, slowburn, nagito is a florist, reader is socially inept.

#. word count! — 3.7k .

#. > . . .<

" Again, I'm terribly sorry for just-"

" Don't worry Peko...t's fine. "

You cut your assistant worker off as she started to apologise, you knew that it wasn't here fault that you hadn't been given the correct itinerary of fabrics needed, and you could have checked a little more thoroughly, being honest, but a part of you just wanted to get on with the work.

Peko was standing near your desk, where you were sat, a lamp next to you as you fiddled with your sewing machine, you had fabric draped over your furnishings, the floor, everywhere you can name it, because you knew you'd pick it all up, so the little mess was just convenient for the now. She wove a hand through one of her braids, twirling them around as she watched you work. " I can try to get you a later deadline, if that would be better? " she suggested to you, which you immediately shook your head to, the hum of the machine made her jump a little, as you hadn't warned her you were about to start, she was cute, you'd thought, you were lucky you'd been given such a nice assistant, even though you had insisted that you did not need, nor want one.

" Nah, I'll be fine Peko, seriously. " Your voice had quietened as you were now beginning to get focused, your hands carefully guiding the dress. " You should go home, I'm sure your boyfriend misses you. " You said with a hint of teasing in your tone.

Peko sighed, " You'll be staying up through morning, no? I'll stay to make sure you don't end up collapsing. " She replied seriously, she knew you wouldn't just decide to take a break on something so important to you, so, she had already planned to stay, she had called Fuyuhiko before this to let him know of your new arrangements, which, she had decided, but knew you wouldn't argue against them.

" Fine, Fine, but if you get bored, you can always leave. " You had wanted to thank Peko, but the words " Thank you " just didn't end up coming from your lips, you really were awkward at this, you weren't sure why you had even been given the ability to speak, since you couldn't even convey your thoughts properly. You hoped that she knew you were grateful, but, it was rare for her cover to slip too, although, maybe that's why the two of you got along so well.

Peko just nodded in reply, before wandering off into your kitchen, she knew you hadn't ate anything yet, and she didn't want you to end up dying of starvation, so she decided whilst you worked she was going to cook you something, so you would take at least a minimal break before sewing your fingers together. She rummaged around in your kitchen, and settled on making you linguini. You had quite a lot of pasta in, as in your words " It's quick and easy, why wouldn't I have so much of it? " It's not that she disagreed, she just wished you would eat more than just pasta, and the occasional snack.

She set a pan up on the stove, and turned the oven on, she looked back at you, you were completely focused on your work, yet, your eyes were clouded over with something that Peko couldn't quite figure out, maybe something good had happened to you today? She hoped so, you deserved more nice things than the mediocrity you normally received. She filled the pan with pasta, and sprinkled a bit of salt into it, She was making enough for the both of you, because she didn't want you to start nagging at her to eat as well, she knew you'd feel odd if she just sat and watched you do so.

She would often cook for you, and you never seemed to argue, she had came to her own conclusion that you weren't very well versed when it came to cooking, she would offer to teach you, but a part of her wasn't sure if the two of you were actually friends, or if you only let her do this because it was a work relationship, and if that were all. Peko had thought you disliked her at first, saying she really didn't need to help you, and things along those lines, she wasn't sure if just the thought of her existence was a bother to her, which, she hadn't minded, the opinions of others never really plagued her, she knew who she was, but, if she was going to work for you, a selfish part of her wanted for you to like her, even just a little bit.

She finished preparing the food, and she watched you a little longer, also leaving it time to cool down, and for her to get you forks to eat with, she knew you didn't like it when your food was too hurt, as you frequently burnt your tongue, it was quite unlucky, she thought, but she knew you didn't like to be told such things, so she'd keep them to herself.

When you'd gotten to a point where you turned off the machine to change where you were sewing, Peko coughed, walking over to your couch. " I made us a meal, do join me, please. "

You placed the dress down, before standing up from your desk, and you walked over to where Peko was, sitting down next to her, it was a little cosy, but you hadn't ever had people over, so you didn't think you needed a bigger one, so there you and your assistant were, sitting weirdly close to each other, as she handed you your plate. You begun to eat without a word, damn, Peko was still as good at cooking as ever, you were so lucky to have somebody so good at just...everything by your side, the you who was only just good at one thing in this life. You had been getting pretty hungry too, so you were lucky she had decided to cook, as you definitely weren't going to that night, or, well that morning. It was just gone 12, and you were pumped with so much adrenaline to do your work that you couldn't even spare a thought to think about sleeping.

You glanced over to her, she was eating her share too, and you couldn't help but notice she'd given you more than herself. She was always very kind, you'd thought to yourself, you weren't quite sure which god you had appeased to in your past life to be deserving of such a person.

She glanced back at you, with a soft smile.

" I appreciate you...cooking this for me, " you mumbled, looking at her face, but not directly making eye contact, that was too much for you. " and for staying up with me, you're a good assistant, Peko. " you continued to eat after you let a crack of honesty slip through, you weren't a very fast eater, because you felt sick too easily if you ate too much in a short period of time, so you just sat there listening to the lack of noise around you, after-all, everybody living around you was probably asleep by now, you were just weird.

You chuckled to yourself, and Peko tilted her head, not sure what you were reacting too, but she didn't ask.

" Of course, It is my job, Afterall. "

" I don't think your job contracts you to stay in my home all night and cook for me, does it? " You'd said that as a joke, before quickly realising that you could have sounded rude, so, you stumbled over your words. " but--! It can just be a verbal contract between us, then. "

Peko smiled at you, she knew you hadn't any ill intent the first time, but, she couldn't deny it was a little funny to watch you cover it up. " That sounds good to me. " she replied, her tone being more warm than motherly right now and your conversation came to a natural end, and the two of you sat and ate in silence now, a little closer together than before.

You finished, and waited until Peko's plate was empty, before you took it from her hands, wordlessly walking over to your sink, and placing them on the side next to it, before you began to fill it with water, you then moved to get the other kitchen utensils Peko had used , and put them near the plates too. You grabbed the washing up liquid, and squirted it inside of the water in the sink, and waited for it to create bubbles.

Peko was a little surprised at your sudden movement, and she followed quickly behind you. " I have all morning Peko, I can spare ten minutes or so to clean up the dishes. " You tried your best to give her a reason to let you do it, as she seemed adamant on doing tasks in your house, you were worried she thought of you as some child she had to babysit instead of an adult, well, that did explain why she was insistent on staying with you, it's not like you were strict and told her not to do anything, even if you tried, you weren't completely sure if she would listen to you.

" I made the mess, though. " She argued with you, she already had a cloth in hand, stupid Peko and her stupid shoes that always let her be one step ahead of you... You thought to yourself, you bit the inside of your cheek, and walked over to grab a towel. " Fine...I'll dry." was your reply to her, and as a response she start to wash the dishes, with you at her side, it was often the two of you would just be doing your household chores together instead of you actually being able to focus on your work, however, you were certain if not for Peko, you would live an extremely lonely life, so, even if this was all you managed to do, you weren't complaining about that fact.

She handed you the dishes after she'd washed them, and you carefully dried them off with your towel, before putting them back in the cupboard which they had came from originally, and with her cleaning skills, you were done relatively quickly, yet it felt like you hadn't worked in hours. Spending time with your assistant, sure could be fun.

You yawned a little, and Peko noted that soon she should make you some coffee, to help keep you awake, since it was your decision to be up, she couldn't change your mind, yet she could aid you at least. " Time to get back to work, " You returned back to your desk after the kitchen was all nice and clean now, Peko was emptying the remaining water from the sink. You were pretty sure you could finish at least a half of your work tonight, now that you were all invigorated.

" We've got a long morning ahead of us, feel free to go to sleep if you get tired, Peko. " you hummed, before you got started on the dress again, Peko nodded in response, although, she was pretty sure she wouldn't be going to sleep, she had stayed up many nights at your side already, never from you asking, it would always just be on her own decision.

and with that, you returned to completely, well almost, focused. Then, Peko remembered, she had completely forgot to ask what it was earlier that you were thinking about, it was too late now, she guessed she would never know.

It was around 7AM when you'd finally clocked it, you had only taken one other break the entire morning, which was to go to the bathroom, and that was only quick. It always shocked Peko how you could just sit and work for so many hours straight, she really admired that about you.

You had already turned the sewing machine off, as you could tell you were close to passing out, yet you hadn't managed to make it to your bed, instead, you were uncomfortably slumped over your desk. Peko sighed, walking over to you, and with ease, she managed to pick you up, she frequented the gym, so she was very strong, but, you were never awake to know that she would often carry you, she wasn't sure what type of reaction you'd end up having to her.

She carefully carried you over to your bedroom, and when she got there, she temporarily held you with old hand so she could pull the duvet up, and then she placed you down onto your mattress, then pulling the duvet back up, she was just making sure you wouldn't be too cold. You stirred a little in your sleep, but she knew you wouldn't wake up soon, as you'd only just gone to sleep.

She moved a stray strand of hair out of your face, and she moved to leave, walking to your bedroom door. " Sleep tight. " she whispered, before shutting it behind her. She had a key to where you lived, so, when left left through the living room, she locked the door behind her, she couldn't wait to finally go home, and rest herself, but it was worth it to stay up with you, even if you didn't say it, she knew that you needed somebody there with you.

She walked down the hallway, and up to the elevator, where she would normally leave from, yet, when she got there, there was a big " OUT OF ORDER " Sign on the front of it, which she looked at, quizzically, in the three years which she'd been coming over, the elevator had never even broken one time, this was strange.

Peko never normally saw anybody when she was leaving your apartment, so naturally, she jumped when she heard a voice coming from behind her. " Ah, you have to take the stairs, it broke yesterday. " she turned around, and saw a man, taller than her, with white hair, she had never seen him before, she was sure of it. She just nodded, and started to walk down the stairs next to the elevator, and she heard footsteps behind her, so, she presumed whoever that guy was also needed to come downstairs.

" It broke the day I moved her, I must be awfully unlucky, right? " He laughed to himself as he walked down a few steps behind her, well, he seemed friendly enough for Peko to reply, with.

" I guess this floor is full of unlucky souls, then " She said fondly, thinking about you.

" What are you talking about? " He asked her, confused, that's how Peko knew for sure he was new there, if he hadn't met the hermit herself. " Ah, it doesn't matter. ", was all she could reply, she knew you wouldn't be happy if she went around making friends for you.

It had been a while since Nagito had taken the train, normally, He'd just be driven where he wanted to go, but he didn't know how to drive himself, so he didn't really have a choice.

He walked to the station as fast as he could, it was colder in the mornings, so he didn't like to be out in them, so he'd rather be inside, his hair was blowing softly in the wind, he had to keep moving it, out of his face, it was times like these that made him consider cutting it off, however, he liked it just a bit too much to do that, and his friends told him, it was one of his " charm points " , he didn't see it, but, he guessed he thought his hair at least did look nice.

Whenever he needed to cross the road, the lights would turn from green to red, so he would have to stop and press one of the buttons on the traffic lights, he didn't mind waiting too much, since he knew he wasn't going to somehow miss the train, since he had made sure he would be early.

He was a little confused how quiet it was here at this time, back where he used to live, there would most definitely be traffic, but, that's the joy of small towns, he supposed, he was worried about something, though. He was worried he stood out, living there, as if he was too different, the stranger he'd ran into yesterday, she seemed to stare at him, and Nagito hadn't been sure what to make of it, did he look weird? Should he have not moved here to begin with, was it really that bad of an idea?

He didn't want to even be acknowledged when he was outside in public, so maybe he should make an effort to not stand out.

He laughed to himself about how pathetic he sounded, and cleared his head of those thoughts, he grabbed his earphones from his pocket, and plugged them into his phone, before deciding to play music the rest of the way, he would rather be listening to somebody else than be forced to listen to the voice inside of his head, Nagito heard it all the time, he deserved a break from it, he thought.

It was almost empty when he'd reached the train station, there were a few scattered around, but that was it, He looked up, and saw he had ten minutes to wait before it got here, at least he was lucky enough for it to not be rescheduled without warning, he would definitely be able to go and open his shop in time, that was good. He smiled to himself, he just listened to his tunes and waited until the train arrived, he sat in the third carriage, and he was on there for around twenty minutes, before hopping off.

Nagito hadn't actually been from the train station to his shop, but, he was certain that it wouldn't be too much of a difficult task for him to carry out, he would definitely be able to find his way.

Or, he thought so, until he ended up being fifteen minutes late as he'd made a wrong turn walking there.

He had sped up his pace as he had been walking, so, now he was a little out of breath, being a florist and all didn't require for him to really exercise too much, he just didn't see how it could help, unless the flowers all ended up becoming sentient and declared war against the human race, Nagito never ruled that possibility out, however, he would probably not be the person to fight them, he may even decide to join them, if that were the case.

He was thinking about that as he hastily unlocked the door to his shop, flicking the ceiling lamps on, and adjusting the room temperature as he walked inside, the smell of flowers hit his nose as he did, he was rather fond of it.

He flipped the sign on the front of the door, so that it read " Open" , and he tied his hair up into another ponytail, so that it didn't get in his face when he was working, he supposed when he did, he sort of looked like the typical guy to be working in a florist shop, he couldn't even remember what sparked his interests in flowers, maybe it was the garden which grandma had? Or maybe it was the garden at school where he would always sit alone at, he just knew that for all of his life, flowers had been there for him, and even though there were so many, he thought each and every one was a spectacle, he hoped that the rest of the world felt the same as him.

He wouldn't expect so many customers at an early time of the day, he just liked to be there, just in-case, you never know when a flower related emergency will happen, like somebody needs to desperately apologise to a lover, or a friend, or if flowers for a venue such as a wedding, or a funeral have been ruined last minute, and they're in need of a replacement, if Nagito couldn't even be there in times like that, he thought he would be a very lousy shop owner, he'd even go as far to say worthless.

He loved to research the meanings behind flowers, he had dedicated so much of his life to that craft, he had to feel like he as good enough at something, anything to feel like he was needed in this world, and so he read, and read, and read, until he had memorised as many flowers as he could, at least half of the thoughts he ever had would end up being anything floral. He felt as if that was a little strange sometimes, but, it wasn't that huge of a deal, not really.

He walked around his shop, re-arranging and taking apart displays of flowers, making sure his carefully crafted bouquets still looked as good as new was a major priority for him, he couldn't allow for anything to be less than perfect in there, or he'd have to close the shop down as a whole. He was adding to some peonys, when the phone rang, he rushed over, with a " Hello, How may I help you? "

His shift was beginning earlier than he had thought it would today, maybe, that was a good thing.

Nagito worked alone, which, he somewhat liked, it meant that he could display everything as he wanted to, and that he could open and close at times he chose, but, it made the whole aspect of working, a lot more stressful, everything was on him. He had to talk to every customer, convince them what to buy, he had to be expert, and, as much as he was awkward in the social aspect, he wanted to change that, if it were possible. Maybe he could start looking for somebody to work with him, but, he wasn't sure if anyone would even be interesting, it's not as if there aren't funner jobs out there, Nagito, just liked his little flower shop.

He'd have to think it over, f he wanted to start looking or not, that was a big decision, and it being up to him, honestly was stressing him out.

After a long day, it reached 5PM, meaning, he could start closing the shop down.

In the end, Nagito had decided to pick up some Hibiscus flowers, to put in his apartment.

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naomikojima · 3 months

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TASK FIVE: The Memory

DATE: Monday, September 5, 2005

TIME: 6:21pm

LOCATION: The Dining Room

Naomi did her best to stifle a yawn as she walked into the dining hall, still recovering from her theater nap. It was odd to return to the routine from her youth of getting ready for dinner, walking past the same walls and it not feeling as familiar as it should. She slid her hands down the back of her legs, smoothing out her brown dress before sitting down. It was always a chore to pick where to sit, to find the spot that would provide the more boring, therefore peaceful and calm, dining experience she could.

Her eyes widened as the food as in front of them, an excited inhale and smirk soon followed. Naomi loved food, and this was exactly the reminder of Richard's favorite that she needed in her preparation for the gala. If anything, Mrs. Tristan was starting to earn points with Naomi by doing this, and letting her stay in the kitchen during the gala.

The last interaction with Richard felt insignificant except for it being their last. A quick morning phone call for Naomi that was a late afternoon call for Richard. She couldn't recount everything they discussed, except that she wanted to read more, he spoke about cars (which Naomi knew very little nor cared much about) and the foundation. He went off on his tangents as he normally did, and she spoke only a little as she normally did. The last time she had been at Woodrow, left more of an impression.

It was the last day of a work weekend, some gala hosted by a rich asshole who was paying handsomely for Naomi, Taro and two of their staff to fly to New York and attend. She was hesitant about accepting it, but it was a chance for her to return something to Richard. She didn't want to stay too long, linger in the memories good and bad, and chose the last day on purpose. Richard seemed excited to see her, she was grateful to see him and only Mrs. Tristan briefly. They spoke about the book she was returning, chuckled that Richard had already replaced it, and had a light snack together. It should have been an ideal visit, but the little things nagged at Naomi. She was away long enough for to see him through fresher eyes, he seemed so much older than she remembered. The way he walked, how his skin was a little thinner and the veins in his hand seemed more obvious than she could recall. It was possible it was all in her head, that he was moving and looking amazing for his age, but it brought a grim reminder. Richard wouldn't last forever, but he was the best parent she ever knew.

The thought of recounting it all, laying her emotions bare in front of the others made her shudder. Naomi had made herself a public wound at the eulogy, letting not only those close to her, but people Richard respected see her love for him in all it's awful, complicated way. It wasn't sufficient for Sebastian, and likely the others, Naomi feared. Vulnerability wasn't welcome at Woodrow, and she wasn't willing to let that wound bleed again.

"I guess I can go." It was towards the beginning of the others speaking, eager to be in the less memorable middle, Naomi's spoke fast, but kept her eyes on the candles on the table. "I don't know if I ever mentioned, but he taught me to swim. In the pond, actually." She had used his name so rarely since he passed, it didn't feel right to bring it out again. Her mouth was dry, and it was tempting to down what remained in her wine glass before continuing. "Um, I am grateful for that. He didn't have to do that, but I was scared and he made it easy. I felt safe with him." She ended her tale with a shrug, an attempt to wave it off it wasn't good enough.

Her foot tapped on the floor at an anxious rhythm and Naomi didn't meet anyone's gaze, worried that she'd see something, Mickey's innocence, Steph's pain, Sebastian's judgement, Celia's sympathy, and it would bring the tears back, and the chance to say the quiet parts out loud. She trusted Richard, loved him and now he was gone. "So whose next?" Naomi made sure to bring the wine glass to her lips, vowing now to lower it until someone else was in the hot seat.

#wrhq.task #this ended up being stupid long so for your convenience #parts your ward would be present for are in bold

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deaconsleatherpants · 11 months

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I couldn't not write something for Halloween 😭

"It is bullshit," Deacon said, frowning as he hovered around the bottom of the ladder you were standing on, wearing an expression that was - rather contradictingly - equal parts nervous and irritated. You only huffed in response, leaning up to hang another large and fuzzy fake tarantula on a nail protruding from the wall.

In many ways the flat already looked like a haunted house come to life, from the bloody dishes Deacon had once again let pile (to dizzying heights) in the sink, to the naturally-occurring spiderwebs that blanketed entire surfaces and were surely only several years away from getting up and walking away on their own. But it was still Halloween, and you didn't want to let the season pass by without putting up just a bit of festive flair.

From your position halfway up the ladder, you looked down at the floor below, to the jumbled assembly of little pumpkins with malevolent golden grins, and fluorescent ghosts on strings, and you shrugged.

"It's nice. Festive." And you reached up to dangle a plush bat off the balcony. Deacon rolled his eyes, although his lips quirked into a reluctant smile.

"If you wanted to see a bat, you should have just asked," he grumbled, the toe of his boot scratching along the carpet as he fidgeted, clearly somewhat bored yet not willing to leave your side just yet. You couldn't help but laugh.

"You know, I would've thought you'd like Halloween. What with it probably being easier to hunt prey, almost every fifth person you see is dressed up as a vampire." Looking at the floor, you started to climb down from the ladder, and flashed him a smile when he instinctively reached out to steady it.

Deacon looked thoughtful for a second, although he didn't look entirely convinced either.

"Well yes, in some ways it is nice, but... it is like nobody fears a vampire anymore. Like we are just jokes." His face fell, though when you sympathetically took his hand in yours he quickly changed tack.

"And what are these... these things you are hanging?! There are real spiders in Vladislav's torture chamber! Or the stupid pumpkins - in my day it was turnips!"

You smiled again, though it was a little more serious now. With a sigh you stepped closer, giving his hand a little squeeze as you leaned up to kiss his ever-stubbled cheek.

"You're plenty scary when you want to be, Deacon. I certainly don't see you as a joke."

He gave you a grateful smile, stepping closer and peering skeptically down at the pile of decorations you still hadn't hung up yet.

"And if it makes you feel any better, I still haven't shown you my costume." You let your tone hang suggestively, loving the way his face lit up, and he immediately dropped the plastic rat skeleton he'd just picked up.

"Oh, but I thought it was bullshit, now?" You couldn't help but tease, grinning at the way his nose crinkled with slight distaste in reaction.

"Well, yes, it is bullshit, but maybe sexy costumes are okay." Deacon waggled his thick eyebrows at you suggestively, making you laugh. His smirk quickly softened into something altogether sweeter, and he leaned in to wrap his arms around your waist, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. His skin was cold, like it forever would be, but the little gesture made you feel warm inside all the same. Just the way it always did.

"Okay, maybe Halloween is not so bad. Not if it makes you happy."

#couldn't let Halloween go by without doing SOMETHING lol 😭❤️ especially since I've been so sparse on the writing front lately. 🥲#haven't actually written Deacon in a while so I hope this isn't too out-of-character 🥴#I can't decide if he would like (modern) Halloween or not but I thought this was cute anyway! 🥺

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sassy-ahsoka-tano · 2 years

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DADDY ISSUES - Part Eight: Attention

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: You finally gather enough courage to speak your mind to Elvis and, oh boy, does he have the perfect solution for you. [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: overstim, i don't wanna ruin it but a vibrator...of sorts, elvis being kind of a dick again (oops)

Rating: M, so very M || Word Count: 4995

A/N: we all know how i feel about the PSA scene so this was very easy to write and i'm now depressed i haven't experienced this personally

Song Rec: attention - charlie puth

This is Part 8 of Daddy Issues. Find the rest of the series here!

[ masterlist | taglist ]

🦋 mila

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

Over the next few weeks, you start to settle into a rhythm. You get unpacked and fully settled into your new room, which includes scouting out places that are going to quickly become your favorite restaurants and stores as well as finding ways to potentially make new friends in the area. You find out pretty quickly that you actually really enjoy living in Vegas. The constant nightlife and social buzz give a sense of energy and life to the city which you didn’t always feel back home in the LA neighborhood where you lived.

As for your arrangement with Elvis, things are moving, albeit slowly. After almost two months of more or less the same routine, you’re starting to get pretty bored with your role. It’s always the same. He sends a letter, which now consist of a only few lines where he tells you what time to meet him and any other instructions, like what to wear. There’s hardly anything additional that he ever asks you to do.

You go down each week at your scheduled time and the security guard, whose name is Stanley, lets you in without question. At first, all you had to do was flash the TCB ring. Now, you don't even need to do that. Stanely just knows you.

You make your way to Elvis’ dressing room, knock on the door, and when he opens it, you give him a blowjob. The next day, you receive a package outside of your room with new clothes or jewelry or other little random gifts. You’ve caught on quickly enough to realize that whenever you passingly mention something you want, it inevitably shows up outside of your door.

As long as it’s an object, that is. You’ve tried your best to be assertive, to ask for what you want, but you must not be asking correctly. Any comments or suggestions you’ve made about changing up your arrangement or going out to an adventure in public have been ignored or missed. While Elvis hasn’t said anything explicitly, he’s made it extremely clear that he doesn’t want your relationship to be public knowledge.

It's not that you aren’t grateful. Of course you are. You could never afford any of these lovely things without his financial support and you certainly don’t mind not working for KNBC. But with only meeting Elvis once a week, you found yourself with a lot of free time during the first month. That time was difficult to fill since you had no friends or connections in the area. You did a lot of reading, mostly magazines and books, to try and learn how to be a better sugar baby for him.

But, honestly, you’re bored to tears and you wonder how he could not be. Not to mention that he never pleases you or even asks you if you’re interested in it. You’re getting a bit irritated, to be honest.

Despite all those hardships and the boredom that permeates pretty much every moment of your existence here in Vegas, you have started to break out of your small, lonely circle. Thanks to Max, the stagehand you ran into several weeks ago, you’ve actually begun to do things outside in the city. Things other than Elvis. Not only is Max incredibly handsome, tall, and muscular, but he's also very sweet and respectful. By now, you figure that he must know why you’re here and what you’re actually doing in Elvis’ dressing room. But sweet, sweet Max never mentions it, so you don’t say anything in return.

You usually try to catch Max before or after your meetings with Elvis. Recently, you’ve even started going down a little earlier to see him before he has to get going on setting up all the instruments and props. Not only has Max helped keep you company, but he’s also introduced you to so many of his amazing friends, some of whom work at the International. Thanks to him, you’ve built a decent friend group out here in Vegas.

You’re currently reading a book on the couch in the living room and finishing up your home-cooked dinner when a familiar knock sounds on the door. You trudge over and open it to find a note taped to the outside, just under the peephole. Prying it off, you don’t even bother looking at the script on the outside. You know who it’s from and have a decent idea of what it’s going to say inside.

Princess, 7 p.m. in the blue dress I sent you last week. D

You scoff and crumple the note in your fingers, squeezing it with white knuckles before tossing it into the trash can. The clock reads six p.m. now, which means you barely even have enough time to get ready. Nevertheless, you still manage to get yourself prepped and into the blue dress just as Elvis asked, all before 6:45. Just as you’re about to leave, the telephone in your room rings.

“Hello?” you lift the phone to your ear.

“Y/N? It’s Trixie! I wanted to see how things are going?”

“Oh, Trix! This is actually not the best time. I’m sorry! In fact, I’m about to be late to meet him. Can I call you back later?”

“Oh…” you can’t miss the clear disappointment in Trixie’s voice.

It’s been several weeks since you last talked. You spent almost every night on the phone together after she left but, unfortunately, life has gotten in the way of your long-distance friendship as of late. You didn’t realize how much you were going to miss her when she left. But your new friend group has required a lot of attention and you just don’t have as much time to talk as before. One of Max’s friends in particular reminds you a lot of Trixie and although you’re more than happy to settle into your new friend group, you can feel yourself growing distant. Every time you talk on the phone, it almost hurts too much.

“Yeah, sure! No problem,” Trixie replies. “Have fun and be safe! I’ll talk to you later! Bye Foxie!”

“Bye!”

You click the phone down and rush out of the apartment. Stanley the security guard offers you his usual warm smile when you approach the side stage doors. You pause to chat with him for a few minutes, like you normally do, before he opens the door for you. You pad down the familiar hallway behind the stage, pausing outside of Elvis’ door. You check your wristwatch one more time before wrapping your knuckles, three times as always, on the door with a sigh. Per usual, Elvis opens it, half-dressed and seemingly ready for your meeting to move forward.

On the elevator ride down, you’d decided to bring up your displeasure with him. You’ve grown exceedingly tired of this relationship being so transactional, of pleasing him only to be left unattended to like a slave to his desires.

Elvis opens the door and you enter in silence. As soon as you hear the door click behind you, you speak up.

“Mr. Presley, could we…discuss something?” you ask, nervously and absentmindedly twirling the TCB ring around your knuckle.

You felt so much more confident when you were rehearsing your lines in your head on the elevator. But now, as you stand in front of Elvis and stare up into his sparkling blue eyes and that handsome, almost intimidatingly so, face, you feel your palms starting to grow sweaty and clammy.

“Course, princess. What’s up?”

He plops down into the same red velvet armchair that he usually sits in during your meetings. You step forward to stand in front of him and clear your throat before speaking. You hope that the following few moments of silence will somehow help you to gather more courage to share your true feelings.

“I was just wondering if we could…try something different? I know that you like our arrangements the way they are, but I have some ideas that I think would make our time together more interesting.”

A few moments of silence pass as his eyebrows furrow and you wait tensely for his response.

“You’re unhappy with the arrangement?”

“No. No, I-"

“Because if so, I’ll have no problem finding someone else to fill your place.”

“Excuse me,” you scoff, shaking your head. “That’s not what I said-”

“As I mentioned when I first suggested it to you, there are plenty of willing candi-”

“Stop!” you finally shout, holding your hands up toward him. Not only are you offended by his words, but you’re also frustrated that he insists on interrupting you as you try to speak.

“I’m just tired of this,” you gesture to the space between you. “It’s transactional. Boring. We do the same damn thing every week and it’s only one time a week. That’s all. It’s monotonous and pointless. You can��t possibly be happy with this arrangement. I’m literally standing here offering to try something different, to do anything you ask, and you’re mocking me. Of course I’m grateful for what you’ve done. I’ve been grateful from the beginning and I’ve repeatedly told you so. But this isn’t what I signed up for.”

You momentarily can’t believe that the words have just slipped out of your mouth. Your heart slams in your chest and your pulse aches in your temples. You curl your arms over your chest as if that will slow it down. You can’t let him see how nervous you really are. You stand strong. His eyebrows raise and he nods slowly, his eyes holding onto yours firmly without budging. You stare back at him with every ounce of strength that you have.

“Alright, princess,” he says coldly. “What do you want?”

You take a deep breath. Ask and it’s yours. With a renewed sense of confidence, you put a voice to your feelings.

“I deserve to feel good, too. I always pleasure you, without fail, but you never pay any attention to me. You don’t even bother asking if I’m interested in it. I just want to be paid attention to. If you won’t do that, then this not a relationship at all. It’s a business transaction. I thought it was intended to be mutual. I’m just asking for some attention, that’s all.”

“I understand,” he says.

You shiver as a mischievous smirk spreads across his handsome face. He stands slowly, his eyes never wavering from yours until he turns around and walks toward a closet in the back left corner of the cluttered room. You watch him in silence, still clutching your fingers onto your crossed arms. He rummages in a drawer for a few moments before pulling something out.

He turns, holding a black velvet box that’s tied with a red ribbon. Your eyebrows furrow as he comes closer. You freeze when he lowers his head to whisper in your ear. Your eyelashes flutter as his cologne wafts into your nose, sweet and intoxicating.

“You wanna be pleasured?” he asks in a voice that’s almost angry, tinged with some venomous undertone that you can’t quite place. It scares you. “Sure thing, princess. Here.”

He gently thrusts the box against your stomach. You hesitate for a moment as you wonder what could be inside. Your fingers flutter with a desire to snatch the gift but your pounding heart tells you to wait.

“Take the box,” he hisses.

At his command, and out of fear, you reach up and close your fingers around the velvet, pulling it into your hands. Elvis leans back, still towering over you but giving you just enough room to breathe. Unraveling the ribbon and popping the box open, you reach into it with confusion. Your shaking fingers hook around the side of something lacy and you lift it from the box. Your eyebrows immediately furrow as you stare down at the exact same pair of deep red panties that you’d thrown across the stage at him during the 1956 concert at Russwood Park. You glance up at him and his expectant expression infuriates you.

“What is this?” you spit. “Are you expecting me to wear these? They’re almost twenty years old…”

“Y’ain’t very bright are ya darlin,” he starts.

“Excuse m-” you huff angrily but he interrupts you.

“These ain’t your panties. They’re the same kind, yeah, but I bought em just last weekend. And I had them specially made for ya. Go ahead. Put em on.”

You shake your head and examine them again. They do look almost brand new, colorful and bright and clean.

“Whatcha waitin for, doll?” he asks, plopping back down into his chair. “Put. Them. On.”

“What? Here? Now?” you ask incredulously.

“You the one complaining bout how we ain’t interestin enough,” he points to the spot in between his spread legs and with a clenched jaw says, “Put the damn panties on. Slowly. Right here.”

With a sigh, you step forward into the space. This isn’t what you meant, but you decide to play along in case he’s taking you somewhere eventually. You throw the box onto the floor and place the panties on Elvis’ lap while you reach for the bottom of your dress. You slowly curl the fabric up with your fingers, gently tickling it against your skin. You keep your eyes locked onto Elvis. As you pull the dress up, you drag your fingernail up the front of your thigh.

Once the dress reaches the very top of your leg, you lift your foot and place it elegantly on Elvis’ knee. Carefully, you stick your fingers underneath the dress and curl your pointer finger around the band to your panties. You hold the dress up just far enough so he can watch what you’re doing as you start to slowly slide the panties from your thigh. You drag the fabric down and bend over as you pull at the band.

You bend your knee and hold it steady, hovering in the air, while you slip the panties off your toe. After you remove the fabric from your bent leg, it drops with ease down your straight one, pooling by your heel on the ground. You step backward as a smirking Elvis hooks his long, slender finger under the red panties and hands them over to you. You snatch them from his grasp and lean down, making sure that he has a perfect view of your breasts as you slide the fabric over one leg and then the other.

As you pull the fabric up over your ass, you turn your back to Elvis and glance at him over your shoulder. You lift the dress up ever so slightly and pull the fabric up and over your bum, securing it onto your hips. You freeze when you feel something hard contact your folds.

You had noticed that the panties felt a little heavier than normal ones but you didn’t think twice about it. You just figured you were imagining it. But now as you stand half bent over and frozen as a statue before Elvis, you realize that there is definitely something hard stuffed into the pocket of the panties right below your pussy. You turn around and place your hands on your hips. His face twists into an almost sinister smirk. You scoff.

“What-”

“Don’t you worry your lil head bout it, princess,” he says, hopping up and zipping his jumpsuit all the way up to his chest.

He runs a few fingers through his hair as you try to process what the hell is going on. Before you can formulate a question, the familiar knock comes on the door to tell Elvis that it’s time to go onstage. He really likes to cut your interactions extremely close to his show times, another thing that’s begun to irritate the hell out of you.

“This isn’t what I meant!” you shout as he makes for the door.

You can’t help but shake your head and fold your arms over your chest. He turns back toward you.

“You doin a lot of complainin for somebody who relies on me.”

“I just spent our entire time tonight telling you how frustrated I am that I’m not getting any attention and all you do is have me put on a show for you in panties that I don’t even own and now you’re just gonna leave me again, unsatisfied and alone, like you always do!”

In two quick steps, he’s standing above you, his face so close to yours.

“Oh, am I?”

You feel yourself waver but steel your body the best you can. His fingers wrap firmly around your jaw, digging into your skin. You blink in shock at the discomfort but your heart skips a beat with the excitement of possibilities. He tilts your jaw so that he can whisper into your ear, his lips brushing against the skin. Your breath wavers shakily

“I wouldn’t worry bout that, princess,” he hisses. “You gonna get what y’asked for. If you’re patient. Now, I expect to see ya out there in the audience. That’s a command not a request. Am I understood?”

You clench your jaw, refusing to play his game. He squeezes your jaw harder.

“Am. I. Understood?”

“Yes, Mr. Presley,” you respond begrudgingly, although your whole body is vibrating.

And with that, he releases your face and flies out the door, slamming it behind him.

You curl your fingers into fists by your sides and release a few heated breaths from your nostrils as you stare at the door. Your heart is beating quickly and you close your eyes as you release a final slow breath to get ahold of your emotions. Then you grasp onto the door handle and fling it open. You huff and readjust your hair and dress before you catch Jerry’s gaze. He smiles and approaches you. You immediately feel your anger dissolve.

“So, how are things going?” he asks with raised eyebrows.

“Fine, I guess,” you reply bluntly.

“Is…something wrong?”

You shake your head.

“No, nothing. We just had a little bit of a misunderstanding about our arrangement, that’s all. We’re resolving it.”

“Hey, Y/N, listen,” he says, gently wrapping his hand around your bicep. “I know Elvis can be a difficult person to work with. If anyone understands that, it’s me. Like I’ve told you before, if you need any help just ask me. I’m here as a resource to you.”

“Why are you saying this?” you ask, letting your distrust get the best of you. “You don’t work for me and we’re not friends.”

“Just because I work for Elvis doesn’t mean I always have to be on his side,” Jerry replies without missing a beat. He throws you a crooked smirk. “And I have to admit that I’m sad to hear you don’t consider us friends.”

“I’m sorry,” you shake your head. “I’m just…frustrated. I shouldn’t be taking it out on you.”

“It’s okay. A word of advice, though? From a friend,” he says quietly and you smile. “Just be patient with him and be direct. Take the lead. If you want something, make it happen. He likes a woman who takes charge.”

You nod, your eyebrows furrowing as you consider his sage advice. When you lift your gaze, a soft smile spreads across your face as you catch a glimpse of Max. He meets your gaze and grins widely, lifting a hand to wave.

“Thank you, Jerry. Excuse me, I’m just gonna go say hello to a friend. Thank you, again, for your advice. I’ll keep it in mind.”

You slip out from behind Jerry and make your way over to Max, doing a little spin as you approach him.

“Hey, Y/N! You look…” he shakes his head in awe.

“Well, thank you. What are you up to today?”

“Just the usual,” he replies, gesturing toward the cluttered set behind the stage where the stagehands work. “Oh hey, are you busy tomorrow night? I was thinking maybe we could grab a drink after the show. Just you and me? What do you say, princess?"

Your head jolts upright and you stare at him incredulously. What? What did he just call you????

“What did you just call me?”

He straightens, his face falling into panic.

“Princess…I can never call you that again if it bothers you or something.”

“No…uh, no,” you shake yourself back to reality. “Sorry, just someone else always used to call me princess.”

“Oh, sorry. I’ll cut it out then.”

“No, please don’t,” you say, a mischievous smile curling into your cheeks. “I like it better when you say it.”

A smile takes over his face. His eyes quickly flick down to your mouth and he bites onto his lower lip, flashing his beautiful straight white teeth. You can’t help but feel your heart flutter at his handsome, charming smile.

Although Elvis will never find out about Max calling you princess, you’re still reveling in the feeling that you’re somehow getting him back, punishing him. You recenter your attention on Max who tilts his head sweetly, the ghost of a smile tracing his beautifully shaped pink lips. His deep brown eyes are like bowls of honey, beautiful and charming, as he stares up at you with such a gentle smile resting on his face. Max always has the slightest blush on his cheeks, for no particular reason, but it gives him a youthful energy that makes you want to be around him even more.

“Well that’s good. Cause I plan on saying it a lot tomorrow night,” he replies, adjusting so that he’s leaning ever so slightly toward you.

“Oh yeah?” you lean in toward him.

Your gut starts to spin in circles, the desire that Elvis cultivated left unsatisfied. You feel your body gravitating closer and closer to Max. It would feel so good just to kiss him one time…

You suddenly jerk back, upright, your mouth popping open as you feel a foreign sensation in your lower stomach. You gulp nervously and clamp your legs together, wondering what the hell it could possibly be. Max’s eyebrows raise in confusion and you try to tell him that you’re fine, but another jolt of vibration makes you clamp your legs together again and stops you mid-sentence. You laugh nervously and wave him off, backing away in fear that you’ll have another episode.

“Tomorrow! I’ll meet you down here, s-s-sound good?” you ask as you rapidly back toward the exit to the showroom.

Although Max’s face is still wracked with confusion, he nods and waves. You keep face until you swing around the corner into the shadow of the hallway leading to the stage doors.

As soon as you’re safe and out of view of the rest of the backstage crew, you fall against the wall, clutching your stomach. You pant through waves of pleasure that are starting to build within your gut. You gently reach down underneath your dress to touch the bottom of your panties. Yep, as you suspected, something is vibrating, literally vibrating. You didn’t even know a device like this existed but it’s currently wreaking havoc on your body. You breathe a sigh of relief when the pleasure stops for a quick moment.

You take that opportunity to rush out of the backstage area and into the audience. Your eyes land immediately on the exit up the walkway but suddenly the panties begin to vibrate again. You grasp with white knuckles on the handrails to keep yourself from falling over. You spot an open seat smack in the middle of the room and carefully migrate towards it, knowing that you can’t make it to the door. You can barely walk while this thing is tingling in your panties, rubbing directly against your core in the most frustratingly perfect way possible.

You plop into the seat at the abandoned table and try to get ahold of your shaky breathing as you watch Elvis on stage. The spotlight happens to be shining directly over your seat onto the stage and you wonder if he can just maybe see you out there. The stage lights are also half on, not all turned off like they’d normally be. He’s singing a song that you’ve never heard before about some plant called polk salad?

Just when you catch your breath, Elvis shifts his gaze and seemingly stares directly at you. You feel your heart flutter with a mix of excitement and fear as he smirks and dances around onstage. Your eyes remain glued to him as he sings and when he riffs during the song, you arch your back as you feel pleasure spiking in your heat. The vibration continues, moving rhythmically against you. You can feel yourself swelling at the pleasure and bite your lip to refrain from making any noises.

You glare up at Elvis when the pleasure subsides, your chest rising and falling heavily with your breaths as you try not to show everyone in the audience what’s going on. He glances down at you and winks before doing some hip thrusts. Suddenly, the sensation is back and you have to grasp at the tablecloth in your fingers to keep from thrusting your hips against the wonderful sensation. You can’t help but close your eyes and pop your lips open in pleasure. You want to give in so badly but your brain stops you. It feels like every single muscle in your body is strained at the exact same time, waiting for you to release the tension.

Your back arches as the pleasure grows, and you noticeably fall back against your chair when it subsides again. Panting, you glance up at Elvis with wide eyes and an open mouth. Although you’re angry at him for embarrassing you like this and putting you through this, you desperately want to finish. You’re incredibly swollen and dripping wet, you can feel the cold liquid on your panties as you sit in the chair. You don’t want him to know how badly you need to cum, but you know that there’s nothing you can do about it and that your facial expression is telling him everything he needs to know, pleading with him, begging him to let you finish.

As he stares across the audience at you, he holds your gaze and his eyes fade to black. He smirks and sings into the microphone. Your eyes can’t help but drop down to his hips which are gyrating rhythmically in time with the music. You bite your lip and grip the tablecloth as your entire body craves climax and everything in you desperately begs to be released.

As the vibrator turns on again, you find that you can’t resist squirming against it. It’s doing wonderful work on you but not quite enough. And with the constant pausing, you’ll never get there without putting in a little bit of work yourself. Your fingers grip hard onto the edge of the table, tangling into the tablecloth and threatening to pull it off as your hips move on the vibrator in time to the music. Your eyes flick down to the ring on your finger as the metal digs into your skin. The juices you’ve already leaked have dried cold on the fabric of your panties and you can feel it against your skin as you move. You clench your jaw and close your eyes tightly as the waves of pleasure build on each other, up and up and up until you finally start to crash down.

As the familiar feeling washes over you, your lips part and you feel your body shuddering. The vibrator continues to stimulate your sensitive bundle of nerves. You can’t help but release a quiet, soft, moan as you come down from your high. Thank god for the music. Your eyes flash open and you glance to the table on your right, where a woman is watching you with her eyebrows raised. You can’t stop the climax now but tear your eyes away from her and squeeze them shut in embarrassment. You will your body to stop enjoying your orgasm so much but the vibrator continues to overstimulate you. In perfecting timing with the song, you come down from your high just a moment after the last note.

You look up at Elvis, who is already glaring back down at you. The sweat glistens on his face and bare chest as he holds your eyes with a lazy crooked smirk pasted on his lips. He licks his top lip with the tip of his tongue and nods toward you. You breathe frustratedly, the euphoric expression on your face fading immediately into one of contempt. You hesitatingly glance at the table to your right to see the woman whispering to the man next to her, both of them giggling.

Of course, you don’t know for sure what they’re discussing. It could be anything, really, but in your heart, you’ve already convinced yourself that they’re gossiping about you. You glance around the audience, wondering just how many people noticed what was going on. Embarrassment floods through you and you feel like crying as you think about the things people could utter about you behind your back. And Max…you can’t have Max finding out about this. What would he think of you?

You gather yourself up and stand, feigning confidence and purposefully avoiding looking at anyone directly. You position your purse so that it rests against your back, hopefully covering up the stain from your fluids if there is one. You hold the bag steady as you try to walk as inconspicuously as possible out of the showroom. You can’t help but wince every time you step, the hard cover of the vibrator brushing against your sensitive folds. The overstimulation and constant vibrations have apparently destroyed you pretty well. With every step you take, your heat is overtaken by soreness. But you manage to make it out of the room and back upstairs, where you crawl into bed.

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

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luverofralts · 5 months

Text

Arkhelios Adventures

Remy stared in her brother's direction, trying to make him do something fun by sheer force of will. All Adam did all day was mope and read, and sharing a room with him was beginning to grate on her nerves.

Adam moved, and Remy had a brief moment of hope where she though he might do something interesting. She was immediately let down however, when he simply grabbed a school book and started to read. Remy had thought sharing a room with him briefly as a kid had been rough, but she was wrong. Her younger twin brother had the exciting life of a shriveled up old warlock whose main excitement in life was the daily crossword puzzle. Clearly Theo had been a large part of Adam's adventurous side and if he didn't come back to make her brother fun again, she had the feeling that Adam would forever be as dull as he was now.

"A book? Why are you doing schoolwork? It's after hours and you could be doing anything! Literally, anything. Why don't you watch a movie or whatever you think is fun? Teenagers have fun, boring ass adults do schoolwork after class. You're only young once, Adam and you're blowing it."

"I don't know, it's hard to say what's fun these days. Theo liked watching movies with me. The really scary ones so he'd have to hold me when we watched them. Everything I could do, I did it with him first. Reading about magic might be the only way I can see him again. If I want to, that is."

"That's it! I can't take any more of this. You stay here and die of old age, while you figure out if you still love your boyfriend. I'm going to have fun. At least one of us should."

Remy cast a quick spell to freshen her makeup and hair, daring her brother to say something. Anything.

"Where are you going? You know you're not supposed to leave the school grounds," Adam cautioned. "Dad will be pissed if he finds out."

"No, he won't. He'll never catch me and if he ever did, I could just blame your constant moping making me insane. Seriously, if you went downstairs to even have a game of chess with a stranger, Dad would probably throw a party of his own."

"He would not," Adam grumbled defensively. "I'm not that bad."

"Yeah, you are," Remy confirmed, looking at her phone. "Don't worry, I have some fun planned for you despite your aversion to anything interesting. You can't just stay in here mourning Theo forever."

"Oh god, what have you done now, Remy?" Adam groaned. "I don't need your idea of fun. That usually leads to hangovers and possible academic suspension."

"You'll see," she teased, putting on a revealing dress in an instant and rechecking her hair. "I got your boy crush's phone number, why don't you try entering it on your new phone? Oh wait, I already did while you stared at the wall all day."

"Boy crush?" Adam repeated. "I don't have any crush, you're being deluded again."

"I've seen the way that you look at Josh from Crystal Cove," Remy laughed. "Oh, Josh, help me find this rare crystal. Josh, do you want to help me study? My boyfriend just can't answer questions like you can. Let's have little crystal babies together."

Remy made an obnoxious kissing noise and Adam whipped a pillow at her.

"That's not true!" he shouted. "Josh and I are just friends. He's dating someone from Arkhelios!"

"Just like you, see this is working out," Remy replied. "You have so much in common. I told him that you wanted to spend some alone time to talk about rocks and he was into it. Dad might not have told you, but he called the coven nearly every day after you got hurt. He likes you."

"Remy! You didn't!"

Adam's mind reeled as he thought of the damage Remy had done. Josh was an attractive, powerful warlock who Adam looked up to. He was a couple years older than Adam and currently had a boyfriend in college, Melvin Jr Hydes. Josh and Melvin always seemed so happy together, just like he and Theo used to be and the thought of Josh thinking that Adam wouldn't respect that relationship was horrible.

It wasn't like Remy was too off base though, if Adam was honest with himself. Josh was the great-nephew of the king of Strangetown and was named after Master Toyonaga, someone he had always longed to have as a teacher. In an alternate world, Adam would learn under Master Toyonaga and continue to pursue crystal magic as a major. The fact that Josh would also be there was just a bonus.

Josh didn't make Adam feel like he did when he was with Theo, but Adam could still feel his heart race when Josh helped him with a project. The fact that Remy had picked up on this fact was dangerous. If she knew about his silly crush, how obvious was it to everyone else? Did Josh know? Did Theo?

"Hey, Adam. I was just wondering if you wanted to do something together? Your sister said you might want to hang out?"

Adam's heart froze in his chest when he saw Simon Toyonaga appear in their doorway, looking optimistic. From the way his sister was beaming, Adam assumed that this visit was also her idea. Had she invited every member of the Toyonaga family in their age group to cheer him up?

"Remy!" Adam hissed, unsure if he was more angry or terrified by his sister's meddling. How on earth was she doing all of this?

"Oh, hi, Simon," Remy said sweetly. "Good timing. I was just going out and Adam could use some company. His boyfriend is still missing and he's feeling so hurt by him. Maybe you could cheer him up."

"Yeah, I can try," Simon said eagerly. "What do you want to do?"

Behind Simon's back, Remy was making obscene gestures with her hands, giving her brother suggestions for what they could do in her absence.

"Remy! Uh, yeah, I guess we could go for a walk or something," Adam said politely. It wasn't Simon's fault that Remy was out of control.

Simon was cute, and even Adam could figure out that Simon had a crush on him. Theo had always acted like he was oblivious to this fact if he did know. Unlike his father, there weren't several family stories about Theo going mad with jealousy and taking his anger out on people who simply looked at his partner. Roman was always the parent who made Adam nervous when he was at Theo's house because he was so predictably unpredictable. There was no way that Adam could picture Theo dumping Simon into a section of the Void because Adam thought he was attractive. No matter how Theo eventually returned to him, Adam knew that Simon would be safe if Remy tried to convince Theo that something had happened while he was gone.

But i thought that he would never hurt me. Maybe the Theo I thought I knew never really existed.

"It's nice out here," Simon commented.

After forcing Remy to go to her party or whatever she had planned so that she'd leave him alone, Adam and Simon had walked in near silence down to the outdoor balconies. Simon watched Adam in case he wobbled or needed assistance, but it wasn't needed. The majority of his physical wounds had healed, though Adam supposed that people couldn't have known that if they never saw him out in public.

"I never really come out here at night," Simon continued awkwardly. "It's peaceful."

"Theo and I always sat out here. You can see a lot of cool birds and there's a pretty good view of some of the royal residences."

"So, uh, do you know when Theo will be back in school?" Simon asked carefully. "Is he coming back? I've heard a lot of conflicting things."

"He'll be back," Adam promised. "Evren might burn down the school if he doesn't. All the adults talk in hushed whispers when Theo's mentioned, so I'd imagine that something is happening. Maybe he'll come back early."

"So you are still dating him? Remy made it sound like-"

"Remy doesn't know what she's talking about," Adam said quickly. "I don't know how I'll feel when I see him again, but I owe it to him to not break up with him while he's not here to know that we're done. Remy means well, but sometimes she goes too far."

"That's admirable," Simon replied. "Theo's lucky to have you...that is if you decide to stay together. Relationships aren't easy."

"No, they're not," Adam agreed. "I learned that the hard way."

"So what are you up to lately?" Simon asked, redirecting their conversation away from the topic of Theo. "You miss a lot of class, are you having trouble keeping up? I can always try to help, though my grades have never been as good as yours. Do you have any hobbies?"

Adam paused, trying to think of a response.

"No, not really. I haven't been doing much of anything lately. It's too hard to focus on anything but Theo...and everything that happened."

"You like crystals, though, don't you?" Simon pressed. "You made Theo that ring he's always showing off and I remember your year-end project from last year. It was the prototype for a new wand, right? Did you ever get that to work?"

Adam frowned, unsure of the answer to that question.

"I don't know, I dropped it after I could use the Maricourt wand," he replied. "To be honest, I've kinda forgotten about it. My dad gets upset if I don't show off the Maricourt wand in class."

"Well, what would you rather wield? I like my trusty carved wand personally. I don't think I'll ever use the Maricourt wand after I can summon it. It's bulky and too much of a hassle."

"Yeah, I've never really thought about it," Adam said. "It's just what my dad told me to do. It's tradition. It's how you prove yourself to the coven." He paused. "Now that you mention it, the Maricourt wand is bulky and hard to maneuver. I smacked myself in the head a few times when i first tried to cast a proper spell with it."

"You worry too much about what adults think," Simon declared, staring up at the night sky. "Forget about Theo for now and focus on yourself. I mean, that's what he's doing, isn't he? He's finding out who he is and how to be that person going forward and you're just crying about him. I'm not trying to be mean, Adam, but you should use this time to grow in your own power. Try something new. Take a risk."

Adam thought carefully about this advice. Sure, Remy and his father had told him basically the same thing, but it felt different coming from an outsider to their family. Maybe he really was missing a silver lining with Theo's absence. When Theo came back, did he really want to see his boyfriend miserable and barely leaving his dorm room? Adam's body and magical skill had been transformed and he wasn't even experimenting with his abilities or how they could interact with the power of crystals. Why did he use the Maricourt wand in class when he could barely feel the difference in magical power when he used it? His magic had always felt amplified when channeled through a crystal prism. Whenever he searched for his limited connection to Theo, a crystal wand always made him easier to find. His feelings for Theo always seemed to be perfectly in tune with a crystal, vibrating together with perfect clarity.

"You're right," Adam said slowly, a powerful thought beginning to crystalize in his mind. "No one is going to bring Theo back here or let me talk to him. If I want to get closure, I need to find Theo myself."

"I'm not sure that was my point exactly," Simon replied. "You should find out about yourself and then when you're ready-"

"I can feel him faintly. If I could get a wand that would amplify that, I might be able to talk to him. I could take charge of this situation and fix all of this."

For the first time in months, the tightness in Adam's chest began to ease. Why was he sitting around waiting for someone else to bring Theo back to him? He had all the tools he needed to try to fix this. He was so preoccupied with all the changes that had happened to him, that he'd forgotten all the things that had stayed the same. He was connected to Theo magically, which not only gave him a clue to find Theo, but also borrowed some of Theo's insane power for himself. He was a Maricourt and a Darktide and he could do whatever he put his mind to.

"You're right, Simon!" Adam exclaimed, feeling hope trickle back into his heart for the first time in months. "I know just who to help me find Theo."

"Please don't tell your sister that this was my idea," Simon whimpered. As much as he liked Adam, he was rightfully frightened of Remy, Bronwen and Elowen. If they thought that he had influenced their brother into something rash and dangerous, Simon was doomed.

Adam summoned one of his practice wands for dueling class and immediately waved it in a basic summoning spell. Using a practice wand dulled the spell's power so that the target wouldn't be summoned against their will. They could choose to ignore the summons if it was inconvenient for them. The last thing Adam wanted was to summon his guest if he was getting ready for bed.

"Adam? So are you are alive! I was starting to have my doubts."

A glowing figure emerged from nothingness before the two boys' eyes. Adam beamed seeing his visitor, consciously trying not to look too excited.

"Josh! Remy mentioned that you were looking to talk with me," Adam said, brushing his hair slightly so less of his scar was visible. "Simon and I were just talking, and I may have a project for us. I need to talk to Theo and there's no traditional way of finding him. From what my dad says, he's in a place we can't even summon him. His dad already tried and it's like wherever he is has some kind of shielding. I can barely feel my connection to him, but with the right crystal, I might be able to enhance it. So I was thinking-"

"Slow down, Adam, I haven't seen you in months and you're talking a mile a minute about a crystal? How are you? What happened? Your dad gave me your new phone number and you've been ghosting me. I texted you. Are you doing any better?"

Adam froze, the weight of his memories steamrolling over the limited confidence he'd felt.

"I'm fine," he said shortly. "I can walk like normal now, and I've gone back to regular classes. I'm fine."

Josh nodded, realizing that he'd pushed too hard in his excitement to hear from his friend. If he wanted to help Adam, he would have to slow things down.

"I'm glad to hear that. You can catch me up to date while we're working on this project of yours."

Adam's face brightened once more. As long as he didn't have to think about what had happened, he could maybe start to see a path forward.

"I need a new wand," he explained. "I was hoping that you or Master Toyonaga could help me make that wand I was working on before. If I can get the right wand, I might be able to talk to Theo. All I need is some help."

"And I can help you," Josh replied. "I made my own wand last year. Just about everyone in the coven has at least one wand that they've made themselves. It's surprisingly easy with the right crystals."

"I knew I could count on you."

Adam beamed with a new excitement now that he had a tangible plan in front of him. Finally, something in his life that he could control. Josh was going to help him find Theo and then things would finally change. He'd know just how he felt about both his boyfriend and his future once he could make a stronger wand.

"Well, I think we could start with coffee first before we jump right into magic," Josh laughed. "I get that you don't want to talk about certain things, but it's been forever since we hung out. Crystals resonate stronger when you are honest about your feelings and intentions, so let me help focus your magic. Does the coffee machine in the kitchen still work or did Travis break it again?"

"Travis broke the coffee machine?" Adam repeated. "I don't think he did, but-"

"It was about a month ago," Simon said. "He was testing whether he could brew coffee with the attributes of a potion he was working on. The kitchen was a disaster and the new machine only came in last week. There were a lot of pissed off people in the mornings."

"Really? I don't remember that."

"Because you haven't been outside your bedroom in ages," Josh replied. "The world kept turning despite Theo being gone. This is what I'm saying, let's get you back into society and when you're back, your magic will take care of itself. You know crystals are stronger when they're surrounded by others in tune with you."

"Yeah, I know. That makes sense." Adam paused, trying to summon the courage to move forward when the past was still so overwhelming. Crystals did need clarity and focus and if he wanted to find Theo and find himself again, Josh's suggestion made sense.

"Okay, one cup of coffee. But that's it."

#sims 2 #arkhelios #arkhelios adventures #adam darktide #simon toyonaga #remy maricourt

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