#but not too much because otherwise i won’t pass my assignments and won’t get a degree

[rosaaeles]

everything will be going fine and then i remember the sheer amount of uni work i have due in january that i haven’t started yet and i actually feel like i’m going to throw up

[astererer]

🦚 🍀♻️ For Venon, Aster, and Romy?

🦚 — peacocking! a headcanon about something my muse has done/would do to show off or impress others.

Aster

Shows off through her sense of style. Her toxic trait is that when someone tells her they like her outfit she will respond with “thanks, it’s thrifted”. No one can copy her looks she will make sure of it. Won’t necessarily be the best or most expensively dressed person in the room, but will always look put together and has a style that is Her Own. This isn’t about trying to impress anyone specifically, she’s just very comfortable with who she is.

Romy

Doesn’t feel the need to impress people, she does her own thing by her own standards. Very much has a “take me as I am because I’m not gonna change for anyone” mentality.

While she doesn’t care for approval or validation from other people on a personal or social level, she will show off her pottery and ceramics. She works hard on her art and knows it won’t get any attention if she doesn’t put it out there.

Vernon

Generally Vern’s a pretty modest guy, sees himself as average all round and prefers not to be centre of attention. Then he got a lot of it anyway due to a joke twitter poll tournament to find Galar’s Sexiest Cabbie that went viral. Has no need or desire to show off because the public seems to think that he’s hot by default and actually he’d prefer it if they’d leave him alone thanks.

🍀 — a four leaf clover! for a headcanon about my muse and a time they have had good luck, and whether or not they believe in good luck charms.

Aster

Aster’s lucky that none of the injuries she’s sustained have been severe enough to cause lasting damage beyond some permanent scarring. Tends to get a few aches and pains when it rains, but otherwise she’s been very fortunate.

Didn’t really get how lucky charms worked as a kid so just randomly assigned one of her pencils as a lucky pencil, then got mad when she didn’t do too well on a test while using it. Hasn’t had a lucky charm since and doesn’t really care about good or bad luck all that much these days anyway. If something happens, it happens.

Romy

Got lucky during her attempt at the Unova League and had to return to Opelucid City to challenge Drayden and get to Victory Road. Lucky in that she managed to avoid running into her parents while passing through her hometown.

Doesn’t believe in good luck charms or superstitions in general. While she acknowledges some parts of life are down to chance, she feels depending on lucky charms or “manifesting” things is a waste of time. If she wants something to happen, she’ll find a way to get it through her own means rather than hope it occurs through luck

Vernon

Managed to get a ticket for one of his favourite bands moments before they all sold out. Didn’t need to refresh the page when they went on sale or anything just straight to seats or standing then making the purchase. Ended up being one of the best nights of his life.

Has a keychain he’s had since he started his cabbie training that he keeps on him as a safe flying charm. Not the most superstitious, but when he started learning to ride a Corviknight he’d be nervous about being so high up and Exposed to the elements. Being on the giant bird’s back is different to sitting inside the cab and all. So he kept this small keychain on him as a grounding measure of sorts. Has since grown out of this anxiety, it’s been many years and he’s used to flying now, but keeps it on him out of habit.

♻️ — reduce, reuse and recycle! a headcanon about my muse and how they recycle and/or reuse things, how they stretch their money/resources and how they approach being environmental.

Aster

During her travelling years Aster was very careful about how she stretched her money and resources. She knows how to travel lightly and how much she needs to use of things like detergent, toiletries and foods like pasta or rice to make them go as far as possible before she has to buy more. Gotten into a no waste habit when it comes to food, never buys more than she needs for the week and has never had to throw something out that went mouldy because she never leaves stuff long enough to expire.

Spending habits while travelling were about spending as little as possible at all times, if she wanted to do something like going to the cinema or anything else that involved payment for entry she would find a way to sneak in. Money would be saved in order to afford travel to the next region on her list. These days she’s a bit looser with her spending, once rent and bills are paid for the month and she knows how much money she needs for food, she’s liable to go on shopping sprees. Now she has stability in her life and isn’t constantly on the road she is able to collect things and very much enjoys doing so. If she’s ever low on cash she just heads over to Black City and go up Black Tower to earn some extra spending money. She’s a competent enough trainer to do well lol.

Romy

Like Aster, Romy tries to avoid being wasteful where possible and is pretty good at stretching the lifetime of stuff like toiletries as far as possible. Also as an artist she’s figured out how to stretch her supplies so she can make as much as possible before having to buy more stuff. Couldn’t afford her own sculpting tools for a while so had to make her own out of household items, still uses them sometimes too.

Doesn’t drive, spends her free time raising plants and is vegetarian. Pretty eco-conscious individual, makes an effort to shop sustainably when it comes to clothing. Has her pokemon help her with her work by producing clay and water, so saves money on buying the raw materials (still has to buy glazes and stuff though).

Vernon

Can be a bit lazy with recycling sometimes, forgets to sort his trash on occasion when he’s tired but since he doesn’t have a car and travels via Corviknight he thinks he’s doing his bit in that way. Fewer carbon emissions and stuff.

Tries to be careful with his money and claims he prefers to save for a rainy day over going on shopping sprees. That being said, the coffee beans he likes aren’t exactly cheap and he does pamper his pokemon a lot, buying treats and good quality grooming supplies for them, sometimes taking them to grooming salons too for an extra bit of specialist care. Spends more on his beasts than he does on himself honestly.

[feminerds]

Related to that ^"the excitement of witnessing events too momentous for the medium assigned to record them" Brian Eno post.

A confusing number of fingers will one day look like a synthetic VHS glitch artifacts filter -- As mundane, and as nostalgic. We’ll add extra fingers and abstract distortions to otherwise legible photos to evoke a sense of 2023 -- And they will remind us of a sweeter and simpler time. A time when the over load of visual information was still beyond the """comprehension""" of ML. When the comprehension of machines, I've simply got to believe, started to slip away from us. I think it will feel like watching a virtuosic child play a new game. A thrilling threat. Which is impossible to believe, but feels like it might come to be true.

-------Unrelated, but always related any way-------

Saturday 24th of June, 2023

I feel like so much of Buffy exists in this tension between the idea of

"I came back wrong/I came back right"

The loss of innocence through adolescences/puberty/transition to adulthood. Y'know the same thing Barbie is about, to be 2023 about it for a second.

I hear mostly "I came back kinder"

This thought that came from a silly string of ideas I had while training for a half marathon - like, I get that it's inane of me to be annoyed about run of the mill competitiveness from other local joggers, I know I only care about it because I hold on to my own, run of the mill competitiveness, but I'd rather be free of it. I'd 100% rather not be competitive, and I try to let it go, but it feels like people are always dragging you back into it, they feel like they've got to tell you they are faster, smarter, more. They run them more often, they're good, they're good, they're so good. And they are!

This is loosely connected to weirdly competitive guys who try to outrun you when you're literally out practicing to run, so weird.

And also loosely related to an acquaintance attempting to use literally the only trigger I have, against me. They acted like I might 'go crazy' and snap at them, but all that really happened was the invisible rescinding of trust, duh.

I just want to yell at the whole world about how pushing yourself isn't pushing against other people. And learning new ways of thinking is just for the sake of the new ways and the thinking. And how surviving something actually does this weird and exciting thing to you, where yes, you're weakened but it shows you how to love other weaker people. And you are scarred and hurt and it shows you to love other scarred and hurt people. And you've lived through the thing that most people think would destroy them, and actually the most destructive thing that happens is that people might distort their whole lives to avoid 'the terrible thing'.

But guess what Surviving made me reckless Surviving made me aware of what I can pass through Surviving made me sure that living in fear didn’t and won’t save me Surviving Made Me. And I Came Back Kinder

At the time of writing the journal post I was- "One week until the GC half marathon" - I finished it - it was good.

Good Job!

A Day in the Water - Christine and the Queens.

CONNECT

When everything is wifi and bluetooth, we'll miss cables.

Monday 12th June 2023 - Hops from the Linear Park Community Garden.

[lgcmanager]

ACTING MISSION 012

SCHEDULE TYPE: TRIMESTER ( PART 1 OUT OF 1 ) SCHEDULE RESTRICTIONS: Cannot be paired with another trimester schedule, unless stated otherwise. for reference as to whether your muse is eligible for this event, please click over HERE.

( important note: this will be the first and only part for the model mission! the next part after this will be the year end ceremonies so that will be posted after this mission’s deadline has passed. )

on OCTOBER 10, HEO AECHA has summoned all the CURRENT ACTORS, old and new. it’s early in the morning, yet the woman seems fully present and watches on her grown assembly with motherly warmth. “if this isn’t my beautiful bunch!” she says, amused. “some of you are new here, so let me introduce myself properly; i am the head manager of LGC AGENCY, i oversee the careers of not only the company’s actors but also other talents. which implies that i’m a busy woman and we won’t meet all too often, but we have KIM DONGSUN and SEO HEEJUNG to take care of all of you. DONGSUN will be taking care of the boys while HEEJUNG will be taking care of the girls. i noted this last time and i’ll note it again. this arrangement may very well change in the future, but for now, we’ve kept it as is. now, oh, dear me, we have a lot to cover and i’ve already wasted too much time on this intro.” she stares at each of them one by one. “i have lots of subjects to touch up, so let’s get to it!”

DORMS

“as per usual, we’ve already sorted out the dorms, so for those of you moving in, you may move in to your new dorms today or if you’re moving out, you can also do that starting from today. as i remind everyone though, just because you’re moving out does not mean that you aren’t under watch 24/7. if i hear of any poor behavior from any of you, you will be immediately sent back to the dorms. just because you have your own space doesn’t mean you can just fool around with your friends or hide your relationships from us. please keep that in mind,” she notes sternly.

SNS

“sns is important for exposure for our actors. however, it’s not absolutely imperative, so the rules haven’t changed. you’ll be permitted a PUBLIC INDIVIDUAL INSTAGRAM ACCOUNT after meeting certain conditions. first, you must have completed a full trimester in this path and second, you must have at least 6 posts on the legacy entertainment account already. this just gives us comfort that you know what is or isn’t appropriate. for those of you who are eligible for an account, the information will be provided to you shortly. again, as with the dorms, this privilege can be taken away if you decide to do some funny business.”

DEBUT CONTRACT

“for those of you who are new, your acting debut is right around the corner … well, some of you might have had some smaller roles in other projects, but never mind that. anyway, there are new legal grounds to cover and so please review your new contract that will need to be signed and returned as soon as possible. i’ll let you read over them on your own.”

( this is just an ic note, there is no need to submit this ooc. )

FANSITE ( OPEN EVENT 6 )

for the ones that have joined the path, they will be eligible to participate in OPEN EVENT 6, where they can post content for the fansites! more information about this can be found over HERE.

NEWSIES ( PART 2 )

information about this can be found over HERE.

ACTING WORKSHOPS & AUDITION

“the ones participating in newsies have been briefed with information pertaining to their schedules so this leaves everyone else who is not participating.” AECHA begins as she looks at the actors that have recently joined the path since the last trimester. “to prepare you for the acting audition we’ll be having soon, we’re suggesting all of you to attend characterization workshops. through these workshops, we’re hoping that you will have a better understanding on characterization and how to develop whatever character you are assigned to. we want to notify everyone beforehand that the project is different from the ones we’ve done in the past. consider this a true assessment of your acting skills.”

for everyone NOT participating in newsies, they will be attending acting and characterization workshops all throughout OCTOBER. in these workshops, the coaches will be teaching their tips and tricks about character development, especially with personalities opposite to themselves. while the newsies cast will have their auditions for this drama during the last couple of days in OCTOBER, everyone else will be having theirs in NOVEMBER. 

the info below is what would have happened on the day of the audition:

when the muse arrives at the audition, one of the judges from the panel ( the director, producer, and writer of the drama ) will be given a scenario where they are being blackmailed by a friend. the other individual tells them that if they don’t follow their request ( which is to backstab someone that is close to the muse and break their trust ), they will tell everyone about this deep dark secret. will they follow the request so that their secret won’t be revealed or will they go against it and let the secret be known to everyone?

( important note: in the points form, there is a section that says “ROLE”. for that, please look through THIS POST discussing the type of roles and choose one that is applicable to your muse! and as a reminder, if you plan to include or discuss any topics that might be sensitive to others for the audition, please add a trigger warning so that other people will be aware of it! also, feel free to expand further with the hypothetical scenario if it helps you with writing the acting scene since we want an idea of the type of character the muse is portraying and how they would handle a situation like this.  )

YOUTUBE CHANNEL 

AECHA looks at the group and reveals, “just like the models, many of you are given the opportunity to create your own youtube channel. with your channel, people can get to know you more on a personal level.”

more information about this can be found in this POST.

LGC CAFÉ PERFORMANCES

for this trimester ( Q4 2022 ), all of the actors except AERI and HANBYUL will be eligible to participate in it as long as you meet the point requirements! you can find out the details over HERE.

REQUIREMENTS

make sure to use the hashtag lgc:actingmission for the preparation and lgc:castingcall010 for the acting audition. you have until NOVEMBER 19, 2022 11:59 EST, to complete the following requirements

PREPARATION: write a 300+ word solo or a 4 replies (minimum 8 lines) thread with another actor ( who is not in the musical ) about anything related to the workshops or audition preparation for +10 POINTS TO DISTRIBUTE ANYWHERE ! 

AUDITION: write a 300+ words solo about the audition for +5 POINTS TO DISTRIBUTE ANYWHERE and +3 NOTORIETY ! 

to validate your skill points and collect your notoriety points, please submit the following form ONCE on the points blog before NOVEMBER 19, 2022 11:59 EST.

MUSE NAME ∙ ACTING MISSION 012 - PREPARATION: +10 ( skill points distribution ) [ LINK ] - AUDITION: +5 ( skill points distribution ), +3 notoriety [ LINK ] - ROLE: [ please list the role that your muse auditioned for: main, lead, supporting ]

[pennylanewrites]

could you do hange + 12,29,42,92 if it's too much just 12 and 29

“I’m going to fucking ruin you.” “Come one more time for me, I know you’ve got it in you.” “Spread your legs for mommy/daddy, I want to see you.” “I can’t- please- I can’t-” + Hange

you’re a genius, anon<3

a/n: just a heads up i tend to use all pronouns for hange, in this fic I use they/them and they’re amab (assigned male at birth).

cw: dom!hange, daddy kink, overstimulation, office sex, some choking, squirting.

~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~

“You asked to see me, Commander?” You opened the door to Commander Hange’s office, letting yourself in with a polite bow. You knew what they wanted, they always asked to see you after a very hard expedition or a rough day.

“Yes, I did. I’ve had a horrible day and Eren makes it really hard to not punch him until he’s passed out.” They cleaned their glasses with a sigh before looking up at you.

“Go sit on the couch.” They looked over to the couch and you complied, taking your jacket off on the way there, leaving it on the arm of the couch.

“What happened with Eren?” You asked, biting your bottom lip nervously. Hange made their way over to you, hand meeting with your jaw and tilting it so you can look up at them.

“I don’t want to talk about anything. And now, I’m going to fucking ruin you, if that’s okay.”

Their words went straight to your core, making you rub your thighs together as you nodded eagerly. With a smile they straddled your lap, lips attacking your neck as you wrapped your arms around their waist. Hange hopped off you, removing their jacket and you got up with them, helping with the unbuttoning of their shirt.

“Sit down.” They ordered after completely stripping you of your clothes. “Open your legs for daddy, I want to see you.” You did as they said, legs spread wide on the couch, wet pussy on display for them. They didn’t waste any time in getting on their knees, tongue lapping at your clit, fingers probing at your hole that clenched around nothing.

“Please, daddy, need you.” You whined, hands gripping the pillow next to you.

“You got me.” They grinned before slipping their fingers inside you, watching the way your face shifted, eyebrows furrowed, mouth gaping open and eyes rolling to the back of your head. It was truly incredible, god-like the way Hange managed to make you feel so good with just their fingers every time. Somehow though, every time lasted longer than the last. Maybe the Commander was just as stuck on you as you were on them.

~

You didn’t regret when you agreed to try three fingers, but you were crying out Hange’s name in desperation, mixed with whiny ‘daddy’s, after four orgasms back to back. They were working a fourth finger in, their other strong hand keeping you in place when you squirmed.

“Hange, please-”

“What was that?” They suddenly stopped moving, looking up at you threateningly. You gulped, eyes blurry and teary not sure about the expression on their face.

“I meant, daddy. Daddy, I can’t take it.” You pouted, though the way you fucked yourself on their fingers by rocking your hips and the juices dripping on the couch said otherwise.

“You can.” They laughed softly and a hand suddenly wrapped around your throat, squeezing the sides ever so slightly, just to hear you let out that beautiful gasp. “Besides, all this time I was nice enough to prep you. Don’t I get to fuck this little hole too?” They asked, tilting their head to the side with a mocking smile.

“You do, you do!” You moaned desperately at god knows what orgasm of the evening, not noticing that you had made a sticky mess all over Hange’s arm, not until they got up to unbuckle their belt.

“Didn’t take you for a squirter.” They chuckled, grabbing your legs and flipping you over. A hand came in contact with your waist, pressing on the small of it until you were arched perfectly for everything to be on display for them. Hands took the fat of your ass and squeezed it, enjoying the way it bounced after they stopped, a finger trailed from your waist to your cunt slowly, making sure you shivered with anticipation.

“Gonna take it and be quiet, okay? Don’t want anyone to hear.”

“Yes daddy.” You nodded before they rammed their cock inside you unexpectedly, making you scream out with pleasure. The sting of their cock trying to fit inside your fluttering walls made you feel so perfect, so good, and the sensation never left because before you knew it Hange had fit all of their length inside you. Balls slapping against your clit, making the aftertaste of your orgasms so painfully good, you were creaming around their cock again and again.

Hange was close too, so close, but they needed more from you. They wouldn’t stop until you were completely fucked out and unable to leave for your chambers.

“Daddy, please-”

“Come one more time for me, I know you’ve got it in you.” They said as they grabbed your hair into a makeshift ponytail, pulling on it for leverage.

“Fuck, fuck. I’m coming, coming...” your words got lost between moans and desperately yelps every time they slapped your ass when you squirmed away from their cock.

“One more for your Commander, won’t you? Need to see if you can squirt again. Maybe this time I’ll make you lick my cock clean.”

“I can’t- please- I can’t-” you mumbled incoherently, another orgasm flushing through your body without even a little build up, having you fuck your self against their cock as they stopped thrusting to fill you up with their sticky cum.

“See, I knew you were a good girl.”

~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~

request a prompt !

[aerosiderwrites]

Archery Practice ... Yandere Childe x Harbinger!Reader

warnings for genre typical portrayals of unhealthy relationships... ngl childe is kinda tame in this one tho

Word Count: 2k

Mid-evening tended to be an unpopular time to train. Most were having dinner, finishing their work day, and getting ready for as restful night as possible in the frigid climate of Snezhnaya. You typically would as well, but with a lot to reflect on and frustrated energy, you brushed off the snow on your person as you entered a Fatui training facility. You gave a quiet greeting to the guards who manned the building, who stood at attention at your arrival. You paid them no second thought as you began to navigate the pristine building.

You followed a path down the corridors you knew by heart, as even years before your ascension to being a Harbinger you found yourself here more than at home whenever your weren’t on assignment. Most windows into the various gyms were dark, and the ones with people in them had young recruits of little consequence to you.

You turned a corner when you heard someone calling for you. You processed the distinct voice as Childe, the most recent addition to the Harbingers. You ignored him, hoping that your increase in pace would not catch his attention. You mentally pleaded that he would avoid the archery range in favor of the other combat gyms.

He didn’t stop, as he never did, as his voice continued to come your way. You closed your eyes in weak attempt to hide your wince as he addressed you by name, by your real name, not your Harbinger title as the other nine would.

You stopped dead and turned to where he was trailing behind you and gave him your attention, unfortunately rewarding his bad behavior, “Titles only, Childe.”

“I wasn’t sure you could hear me” Childe responded, now standing tall right in front of you, his smile still the same, ignoring or otherwise completely unbothered by the standoffishness on your end. “I wanted to see if you wanted to spar while you’re here.”

Like clockwork. Every damn time you came in here and he was here too he’d ask. Each time you’d say no. Each time he’d hover around you until one of you had to leave. It had worked for the other Harbingers, as he now paid them no mind but for whatever reason, he still engaged with you. Tonight, you hoped your verifiable excuse and unfriendly aura would be the last straw for him.

“I’m just going to be doing target practice today,” you said, hoping to deter him. “I don’t want to do anything too strenuous today.”

“Oh you are? Do you mind if I join you?”

You blinked, “I didn’t know you knew how to use a bow,” you verbally dug your heels into the ground, even though you knew he could just walk into the range and practice along side you if he so wanted. There were no restrictions to who could use what when, but you desperately wished he would take a hint and leave you alone.

“I’ve been practicing on my own more recently, actually,” explained Childe, “And considering you’re the best archer among us, I can’t imagine having a better training partner.”

You narrowed your eyes at his compliment, while delivered earnestly, you couldn’t help but interpret his words as being subtly facetious. Since Childe sidestepped your frustrated hint with ease, you relented with a sigh, “Do as you please.”

The two of you headed to an archery range, Childe walking along side you, while you stewed in silent annoyance. So much for introspection time.

No one quite knew how to pester quite like Tartaglia. It was the popular opinion among the other Harbingers that the 11th was obnoxious. While you and your contemporaries preferred to work in the shadows and keep the often extreme extents of your servitude to your Archon hush-hush, Tartaglia, or Childe, as he preferred, ended up with a style that was far more akin to a performance. However, unlike most performers, he would make sure that his performance would be the last his audience would ever see.

You stopped in front of a door to the small range, opening it up unceremoniously, and Childe followed close behind. The room lit up, and illuminating the long room with three suspended targets, at three distances. Even with the unwanted company, you stretched and warmed up on autopilot, the silence between you and Childe surprisingly comfortable.

You glanced over, Childe having gone through his warm up routine faster than you. He had called his bow already, and you found yourself gawking at the absolutely abysmal posture he held as he aimed at the closest target, the one on the far left.

His shoulders were hunched and his bow hand gripped the bow in such a way that seemed entirely unsustainable. The arrow sat flimsy in his drawing hand, the only saving grace of the shot being the strength with Childe drew, which was borderline disturbing. You weren’t sure if he was showing off, or if he genuinely didn’t know to hold back.

You held your tongue as you watched him fire the shot, your eyes barely able to follow as the arrow swiftly embedded itself deep into the target, although the hit was only one by the smallest of margins

You watched him fire two more arrows, the second being a ring outside of the bullseye, and the third a near miss from the top. Both would be a challenge to pull from the targets as the fletching of the arrows were barely all that stuck out.

“See, I have a problem with being consistent in the hits I land,” Childe sighed, aware that you were observing, “What would you recommend?”

You took a deep inhale, “I think most children who pick up bows for the first time don’t have posture as bad as you.”

Childe flinched, his body language exaggerated, a pout resembling a kicked puppy having formed on his face, “Cut me some slack, I’m self taught!”

You remained unrelenting in your onslaught, “That’s obvious,” you scoffed, “You put way to much strength into the draw, especially when you can barely hold the bow itself. I’m amazed you hit the target at all.”

As as satisfying as it was to drag his form through the mud, Childe’s hurt expression only seemed to deepen, and you let yourself be worn down. “Draw the empty string, I’ll tell you what you need to fix.”

He did as you asked, and you rationalized to yourself that you were ultimately helping the Tsaritsa if you assisted Childe here. If he were ever stuck in a situation where he could only use a bow, you didn’t want him to be caught with his pants down. As invasive as he was, you didn’t want him to die or anything.

You lightly tapped his upper back, “Don’t hunch.” He fixed himself quickly. You moved his elbow up on his drawing arm, and went around to bend his elbow on his bow arm, going in quickly, and touching his as little as possible. You gave explanations for why each mistake would be detrimental for any kind of combat, and how to develop instinctive shooting, while making him maintain proper posture.

You were surprised how well he seemed to internalize what you explained, and you didn’t stop yourself from going into more detail than was feasibly retainable, but he stayed attentive, and showed a passion you weren’t expecting. You eased into a comfortable rhythm, and with rudimentary fixes, Childe was able to improve.

Time passed quickly, your engagement far more than either of you had expected. Childe had been trying to gauge you for a long time, but your persistence into giving him as little as possible became entertaining in and of itself. He enjoyed the open resentment of the other Harbingers, and before you had let your shell crack, he had enjoyed yours just as much.

Your patience with any mistakes was unexpected, your exasperation and irritation with his presence having dissipated entirely as you focused on helping him despite yourself. It was endearing seeing this side of you, a side that showed itself with surprisingly little prodding or string-pulling. It felt… natural, and unfortunately for you, it was also very endearing.

“Hey, [Y/N],” he started, interrupting a demonstration you had started about sights, earning a surprised look from you as he got your attention.

It took a split second, but you noticed he used your name instead of your title, your guard went back up, and you narrowed your eyes at him, “Don’t speak informally with me, use my title, Tartaglia.” You hissed out, using his official title instead of his preferred to emphasize your distance.

“Why? You can call me Ajax,” he offered, testing the barrier you set up. He hid his surprise when you hesitated, pursing your lips. He saw through how you tried to treat him apathetically, and forced yourself to be unkind to him. You were so much softer than you wanted anyone else to be privy to, and Childe was excited to exploit it.

In your own head, you had reached a conclusion that you weren’t sure he had reached, or if he even noticed in himself. You could have been way off, but as someone so at odds with his peers, seen as a tool by his superior, and feared by enemies and underlings alike, the pieces fit in your head and spelled out the fact that Childe was probably lonely.

Realizations clicked together quickly upon this conclusion, but you kept them to yourself.

“I won’t,” you maintained, refusing to let up. You couldn’t stop sympathy and understanding from now changing the tint of your interactions or how you viewed them, but you didn’t have to let him know any of that. Childe wasn’t your business, no matter how much he wanted to be.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Childe cooed, holding back a patronizing urge to pinch your angry cheeks, “I just wanted to ask why you’re helping me, since you seem to dislike me so much.”

You shifted your weight where you stood, “I don’t think you’d leave me alone either way.”

“That hasn’t stopped you from ignoring me before.”

Resentment bubbled in your chest, “So you are aware that you’re a pest.”

“Only because I like you.”

You were baffled that he could just say something that familiar, and you hoped any warmth that showed itself on you wouldn’t be interpreted as anything other than embarrassment on his behalf. “Well, stop.”

Childe seemed more amused than anything at your words, it only feeding into his idea that you’re just playing hard to get, “Am I really so unlikable?”

“You have no idea.” Any understanding you gained during your interactions being emotionally tossed to the wayside as your couldn’t bring yourself to care about someone with such a deliberate lack of regard for boundaries.

You disarmed yourself and made way to the door, pulling it open only for it to shut fast before you could blink. Your eyes followed the gloved hand that slammed it shut, Childe now far closer than you have ever let him get before.

You didn't want to turn around, and when you did you found yourself regretting it. His eyes were cold, completely unamused at your intent to leave while he was enjoying your company so much. He didn't mind a chase, but he needed you to realize that he was serious, and very difficult to deter.

If being pleasant and fun wouldn't get you to loosen up, he could change his approach until you changed your mind.

It had been a very long time since you felt this small. You’ve always been aware of Childe’s strength, but at the end of the day, despite his irritating nature, he was an ally. Or was. In that moment you looked up to see his lighthearted facade disappear so completely, you understood that regardless of your allegiance to your Archon, he was a threat.

“Don’t go, I still have so much I’d like to learn from you, [Y/N].”

[warmau]

☆ [nostalgic] summer romance! younghoon had to do something for his late bday because i adore him others: juyeon

the disappointed look jacob gives you as he pulls into the parking lot beside your school is that of a parent, deflated with the rowdy actions of their only child

you hold your physics textbook in your lap in the passenger seat and try to smile at him as some sort of compensation

kevin chuckles from the backseat

"can't believe you're stuck in summer school the year before you graduate."

"shutup kevin the only reason you passed physics is because jacob lives down the street from you and let you copy all his old notes. otherwise, you'd be in there with me."

kevin shrugs and motions for you to get out of the car, you stick your tongue out and thank jacob for the ride

"waterparks gonna suck without you."

he says before he rolls up the window

you groan and mutter a "don't remind me about the waterpark dude" before turning to head inside

the room is barely air-conditioned and your summer physics teacher is some old lady who tells you all to read for the next hour and do the exercises on page one hundred and three

she then puts on an ancient pair of headphones and seemingly tunes you and the other summer school students out indefinitely

she doesn't even notice when the door opens half an hour later and in the frame is the tall, almost infuriatingly handsome figure of kim younghoon

you blink back in surprise - i thought he was a pretty good student?

younghoon notices you too, smiling as he passes your desk to sit in the one behind you

you look down at your textbook and suddenly don't know the weird feeling that washes you over

the room is pretty empty, he could sit anywhere else....

five minutes later, you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder

you turn and younghoon smiles again - his teeth are blindingly white and he doesn't have one acne scar on his pretty face

"do you know if the teacher took attendance?"

you shake your head, "she's basically been comatose since i got here."

he chuckles softly enough that just the two of you hear it

"got it. so we'll just be sitting here in silence for two hours?"

"looks like it."

he takes a pause and looks at you as if he has something else to ask, but it doesn't come out

the first day then drags its feet until finally it's over and you drop your worksheet off on the desk

the teacher mutters that the homework for tomorrow is the next chapter and you give the fakest smile you can muster before trying to beeline for the door

before you can leave though, younghoon calls out your name and you turn to see him standing in the empty hallway

"if i need help with the homework - can i text you?"

you reluctantly make your way back toward him, you take your phone out and hand it to him

"sure, add yourself to my contacts. god this summer is gonna be so boring."

younghoon takes a moment before handing you back your phone, he nods in agreement

"at least we'll suffer together."

you don't think much of it when he says it - actually you don't think about it at all

the only reason it finds its way back into your head is because later that night your phone vibrates and it says you have a text from 'hoon [seven different flower emojis]'

younghoon?

you open it and see that's a long message whining about the confusing chapter you were assigned. you giggle because you've been whining to yourself while reading it too

but as you start to type out a reply you wonder.........

'at least we'll suffer together'.........we barely even know each other? is it really normal to say that - what about being together with a stranger makes summer school of all things better?

your hand hovers over the send button - you close your phone instead and go back to reading, forgetting about the text and falling over yourself in physics terms you should have remembered when you first were taking the class

the next morning, jacob doesn't drive you to school - you walk there and bump into younghoon whose on his way over too

he somehow manages to look tall and unaffected by the sweltering heat

he waves at you with another one of those priceless smiles

"did you do the homework?"

he asks as you fall into step with each other

"barely - i had to look at cobi's old notes."

"cobi?" younghoon tilts his head and you explain that it's a nickname for jacob

something on younghoon's face is confusing, it's like there's a twinge of sadness but you assume it's just a reflex squint to the glowing sun

"you didn't text me back - so i thought you might have given up on it!"

he laughs slightly and you clasp your hand over your mouth

"oh right! sorry - i must have spaced out and didn't hit send. but i totally agree - fluid mechanics could put anyone to sleep."

before you realize it you and younghoon are in the classroom again, sitting in the same seats

you're early so the teacher isn't there yet and younghoon flips to a page from the chapter to ask you if you know what its talking about

you explain what you think it means (from the information you got from jacob's old notes)

and the entire time you're maybe inches away from each other

when you aren't actively thinking about it, it's fine - but then your hands brush and suddenly it dawns on you and you sit back in your seat suddenly

younghoon senses the shift and opens his mouth to say something when the door swings open and a monotone voice tells you to open up to page one hundred and fifty-seven

like what younghoon said and his text, you soon forget about the momentary skinship

your brain starts to melt of boredom as the class drags on and you get past a note from younghoon when the teacher isn't looking

'do you know the answer for problem #3?'

'it's 23.56 m/s'

'woah you're so smart'

'more like the person who used this textbook before me wrote the equation on the page'

'lucky - let's trade textbooks?'

'in your dreams :P'

another long day comes to an end and you wave a goodbye to younghoon, he smiles and waves back and adds a - "reply to my text this time, ok?"

you nod and only again do you think about what he says when you're home and thinking straight under the graciousness of your AC

does that mean he's going to text me?

and like yesterday, younghoon does text you complaining about the reading

you answer and a conversation that comes almost way too easily starts

this cycle starts anew the next day, and the day after that, until at some point you realize you are forming a sort of summer friendship with kim younghoon

and that's normal - that's fine

but there are moments where you look up at him when you're paired together for a makeshift lab or when you've agreed to stay behind some extra hours to study

that you see younghoon in all this detail up close and he's undeniably handsome but also you see something more

for all the years you've been in the same school together, passed each other at parties, probably even stood together at assemblies

you've taken him at complete face value. perfect proportions, always someones crush, the pretty and popular boy who somehow hasn't added complete selfish jerk to that title as well

he's just - kim younghoon - untouchable, out of anyone's league

and now he's more real.

you see the mole on his neck, the way his eyes crinkle when he finds something really funny, the pickiness of his eating habits and how he can't hold a pen properly with his left hand.

they're things that make him human and they're things that you can't help but notice because like anyone, you are instantly attracted to younghoon

it's just crazy that beyond that face there's a boy who you could easily see yourself falling for

of course, you end the thoughts right there.

even though sometimes, you get a weird kind of feeling that younghoon is noticing something about you too.

it really starts to eat at you after you guys are at the halfway point of summer classes - and you have your first test.

you're both panicking about it, because if you don't pass this one - you probably won't pass the final - which means physics again when autumn comes around

so you and younghoon have been spending a lot of time in the library after class with your textbooks, snacks, and jacob's old notes

of course you're both grinding, but distractions happen and you end up taking a break to toss candy into his mouth and doodle cartoons of your boring teacher in the margins of your notes

giggling like maniacs over the inside jokes about class and school you've both come up with, getting scolded by the ancient librarian if you're just a little too loud about it

and then younghoon asks you: "do you have plans after the test?"

you huff and cross your arms

"yeah, to go home and curl up on my bed and forget it ever happened."

he chuckles, puts his hand on his neck and then pauses - what you think is a light pinkness starts to dust his skin

"same, but if you want instead i though-"

your phone goes off just as the words string together - you pick it up and try to wave an apology to the librarian who rolls her eyes at you

with a whisper you turn your head to answer

"what? jacob? what - no i don't know where kevin is i thought he'd be with you."

younghoon's lips thin out and you barely react as you duck under the table you're studying at to keep your voice low

you finish the call and come back up with a sigh

"what were you saying by the way?"

younghoon shakes his head

"nothing, is kevin ok?"

you get back in your seat and you don't want to comment on the weird thin blanket of tension that seems to undertone the question

"he's fine, jacob will find him over at eric's or something."

you look at younghoon and he doesn't return your gaze, he's pushed his chair in closer to the table and picked up his pen

you do the same and try to break whatever this weirdness is

"should we go over chapter five again?"

that moment replays in your head for almost a week straight, it almost distracts you during the test but thankfully you and younghoon both pass

you flaunt your 84 versus his 82 but the happiness of it seems to wash away any excess awkwardness from before

at least for him, for you - you somehow can't stop analyzing it in your head

to make matters worse, more pocket-sized interactions like this start to pop up

younghoon is always seemingly on the verge of asking you to hang out with him outside of class but he never really does

something always stops him

and you kind of start to wish he just would, or if the question that's always on the tip of his tongue isn't that - then you really want to know what it is

you overthink and it frustrates you more than you admit, but at the same time younghoon had been right when summer started

the fact that you have each other to suffer together actually doesn't make this whole thing worse than it originally was going to be

the only reason you're having a tolerable summer is because of him

you don't want to ruin it by prying him with questions

wanting to know if he wants something more than just a physics class-based friendship

because it gets to a point where you don't know what to do, you ask your best friends

when you explain that you and younghoon just click - and it seems like he might want to be around you more, the way you want to be around him -

jacob and kevin give you the same look

jaocb's just nicer when he says "why don't you ask him to hang out first?"

while kevin just laughs and calls you a big dummy - popular pretty boy or not, that's crushing behavior you're describing

you think about it

what's stopping me from asking him first? seriously - am i going to be that person who needs to wait around for prince charming to pull the first move?

so you decide you will, it takes jacob giving you a pep talk before you go into class the next day but you are resiliant

and when younghoon comes through the door - you stand up

"oh, a standing ovation did i do something right?"

he jokes and you have to tell yourself not to focus on how cute he is and get straight to the point

"do you want to hang out after class?"

younghoon's bag drops from his hands and you both kind of startle at the noise

oh shit. here it comes. the big 'oh i hope you don't think this is something more than it is....' line

"oh - i - sure, i mean i saw jacob's car in the parking lot is he not gonna pick you up later?"

you blink in confusion

"no, why would jacob come pick me up?"

younghoon and you have a moment of complete silence and then

"you're dating him, right?"

you're pretty sure you let out a sound that's a mixture of a little yell and an attempt at a laugh

it's embarrassing and before you can backtrack it, the door opens and the teacher snaps her fingers for you and younghoon to sit

as you do - you realize your entire body has gone kind of numb

is that the reason he's been dancing around me this summer, because of jacob?!?!?!

you turn before the teacher can even write the pages to work on on the board

"no!"

you exclaim and younghoon blinks those big, brown pretty eyes at you

"i am definitely not dating jacob bae!"

a sense of relief seems to wash over his face, but you can't even enjoy the way he looks happy because the teacher clears her throat

"the matter of who you are or are not dating is not the topic of this class - physics is. so pay. attention."

you nod, looking down at your textbook as the other students snicker to themselves

halfway through the class younghoon passes you a note

'how about we go see a movie or something?'

your first date goes well.

actually it goes really really well because it turns out younghoon is scared of horror movies and you're not and when he nearly jumps into your arms with fear you just laugh and hold him close

by the time it ends he's got his head completely in your neck and you have your arms wrapped around his waist

it's actually insane how comfortable you two are with touching each other despite the fact that all of summer you would knock knees and it would set both of you into a state of petrification

and when you text your gc after, jacob sends a thousand loving emojis

and kevin replies with: but is he a good kisser tho?

turns out he is, although he kisses with a shyness that is unexpected considering how loud and fun he can get around you

he lets you take the lead, which is nice, and when you kiss him right on the jawline he inhales sharply and you figure out the part of kim younghoon that gets him all worked up

a secret you're sure the rest of the student body will be jealous of you for knowing

the summer goes from tolerable to magical in the snap of a second

your classes finish, you and younghoon both pass the final and celebrate with ice-cream and a trip to the amusement park

you end up on the ferris wheel and younghoon sheepishly admits he had always been a little sad thinking about how you were doing these fun things with jacob and not with him

and you scrunch your nose up and tell him the last time you and jacob were on a ferris wheel together you were comforting kevin for his random fear of heights

speaking of moonbae, they both really like you and younghoon together

jacob thinks he's a mannered young man and kevin is just like soooooo you're nice enough to put up with them (you) you must be a saint

the four of you finally get to go to that water park you missed out on in the beginning and while you and younghoon are holding hands on the lazy river sharing little cute kisses

kevin is splashing jacob to a point where the lifeguard on duty has to intervene

younghoon still sometimes dances around what he actually wants to say or do - and so you coax it out of him with the threat of complimenting him

which you learn is your greatest weapon, you call him pretty and it's practically game over

but seriously he just tucks you into his arms and mumbles something and you're like hmmm and he's like mumbling and you're like younghoon words or i will list the top five things i like about you and he's like

"oK i just wanted to ask if you wanted to stay over........."

you do :) and when you take the liberty of stealing a big flannel of his younghoon hides his face in his hands for like ten minutes straight

before autumn finally comes around for good - you and younghoon talk about how you both flunked physics

you explain that you just did not put the effort in at all and skipped more times than you could count, but younghoon just says he thinks he just messed up pretty bad on the final

"why did you do bad on the final?"

he looks away and you scoot closer, "younghoon?"

"well remember how we all took the final with our seats switched ..... the teacher put me next to you and it was distracting...."

"no way - are you saying im the reason you were in summer school?!?!"

you sit up and younghoon does too with a laugh

"maybe - but it was worth it. i got to spend a whole summer with you."

years down the line you still bring the story up as a fun meet-cute

everyone thinks younghoon is 100% joking, there's no way he failed a final because he was sitting next to his crush

but younghoon swears it's the reason why - he's sure if he could find his original test paper he could show everyone that where he was supposed to have written out the equation he just wrote your name down ten times

jacob accuses him one day for flunking it on purpose since he probably knew you were going to end up in summer school

you turn to your fiancee and ask him is that true, did he really fail it on purpose to spend more time with you?

younghoon's ears turn pink and the whole room erupts into laughter

"younghoon, why would you do that!"

you push him gently, your hand on his chest with the glittering band he gifted you

he shrugs back with a big smile

"i really really really liked you - and hey, it worked out didn't it?"

[borrovvedyoongi]

warned you p.sh

pairing: tutor!sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: smut, but at most suggestive for now

wc: 3k

warnings: mature content, cursing, mentions of erection, mentions of casual sex, y/n saying she’s screwing someone’s dad but she doesn’t lmfao

synopsis: y/n needs to pass calculus, and sunghoon needs to get laid

part 1/???

You were going to your snobby and strict private school, just walking to the beat of Sunmi blasting in your headphones. The pigtails got in the way of the headphones but you made it work. You were aiming for the cutesy innocent look today, regardless of if your whole grade thought you were some harlot. You’d rather call yourself a femme fatale, but what you’re really trying to reclaim as a raging bratty feminist is a bimbo.

Bimbos definitely need to keep their head up high with confidence, but seeing the latest AP calculus quiz on your desk with its 37% marked in red severely irked you in that it made you feel dumb, and not the good kind, the very small and insignificant kind. Bimbos don’t like feeling like that. You twirled your pigtail in your hand and tried to keep a neutral expression, holding in the heavy sigh you so badly need to exhale out. That’s when you heard it.

“How did she manage to score that low?” someone snickered.

“All that time spent on her back and not at a desk really paid off.” another person snickered. You really wanted to say you’ve actually got railed by their dad on his desk and that you’re quite adaptable on where you do it, but you didn’t wake up and choose violence today...and plus the teacher would’ve sent you to the office. Giving them attention would just fuel the fire that you can’t put out when you’re up against slut shaming vermin when you’re only a team of one. The bell rang, signaling your next class and before you were able to stand up and go, you were asked to stay for a few minutes afterwards along with someone else. That someone else being Park Sunghoon. You and Sunghoon walked to the desk of your teacher and stood before her.

“Now Y/N, I know that you haven’t been doing well in class so I decided to pair you up with Sunghoon as your tutor. I feel as though you would have great improvement after a few study sessions, considering big chapters are coming up to wrap up the semester, and now is the best time more than ever to get some aid that I can’t provide.” You peek over to Sunghoon and he glances at you briefly before looking back at the teacher.

“Is this mandatory?” you ask.

“If you want to pass this class, I strongly recommend that you let him help you. An alternative explanation could help.” You really had no other choice but to nod your head yes and go along with it.

“Good. Now that both of you are informed, hurry along before you’re late to your next class.” After both of you scurry out of the room, you walk ahead to your next class and feel a tap on your shoulder.

“Hi, I’m Sunghoon, but you already knew that.” he says awkwardly while he hands you a post it note in neat handwriting. You eye it, then look up.

“You’re giving me your number?” you ask. He nods.

“Texting is the most efficient way to communicate with me since I have ice skating practice and student council related things to do.” he iterates. Before you even say a word, Sunghoon is already off to his next class, but you don’t miss the way he turns around to wave at you and yells “Text me!” in the hallway. You’ve gotten many stares before, from the way you carry yourself and from the way you purposely pull your uniform skirt higher because you think it would look best as a mini skirt, but this time, you heard whispers.

“Why is he talking to her?”

“Must be doing charity work.”

You smile. You can’t wait to tell your best friend Sunoo what just happened at lunch.

-

“The ice prince is doing what now?” Sunoo says with fruit gummies in his mouth.

“He’s helping me with calculus. And gave me his number.” you say while grabbing for a piece of candy to which Sunoo lets you grab a few.

“So…what’s the plan here?” Sunoo says with an eyebrow raised.

“I’ll text him right now and have some fun.”

“You whore! What do you mean have some fun?” Sunoo asked not subtly with his booming voice.

You roll your eyes. “You know the drill. I think he’s an easy target. I’ll be my cute charming self and see what happens.”

“You mean you’ll be a man eater and devour that poor innocent boy whole?” 

“You know me so well.” you say, grinning ear to ear. You whip out your phone and compose a text.

You: Hey Sunghoon, it’s Y/N, are you free after school today?

Unknown: Hey, and yes. Where would you like to study?

You: I’m more comfortable at my house where there’s less distractions. The library is too quiet for me and I like some white noise.

Sunoo peeks over your shoulder and says, “He responds fast.”

You smile, “Right?”

You start typing right away, but notice the three dots before you get to send anything.

Unknown: Sounds good, I’ll meet you after school :)

Sunoo gasps. “A smiley? A smiley!” You giggle at his reaction.

“It’s just an emoticon silly.” you say.

“It’s going to be water droplets and eggplants soon though.” Sunoo said in a sing song voice. You can’t help but laugh at your easily giddy best friend. You had big, big plans to get your prey, and you were going to have your fun in the process of passing calculus while you’re at it.

-

English literature wasn’t the most fun class in the world with talking about MacBeth and all, however, the fun part was daydreaming about Sunghoon. You have fancied the boy for the longest time casually but thought he was a little too vanilla for you. And you don’t like admitting it, a little too good for you with being a smart hardworking boy with his head on steady shoulders while yours just bobbled to whatever. Anyhow, you needed danger. A little spice, and everything delectably nice. He didn’t seem the type to be rough enough.

He was however tall, lean, and achingly adorable. Handsomely crafted, so soft spoken, and knew when to shut up unlike every boy you’ve slept with thus far. He’s a nice target. 

The bell rang, and you were quite surprised to see Sunghoon standing by your locker while you’re on your way there.

“Sunghoon!” you say cheerfully, making sure there was a bounce in your step, very glad you’re not wearing a bra today. For some reason the air conditioning wasn’t working today at school so you used this as an excuse to unbutton a few buttons earlier on your white crisp button up. You can see very clearly Sunghoon gulp and you can’t help but do your eye smile at this, and he does a soft grin in return.

“How did you figure out where my locker was?” you say as you tilt your head. Sunghoon couldn’t help but think the simple gesture of a head tilt was so charming. 

He shrugs. “I was going to text you but I knew you would be in class, so I looked at some documents to find out which locker it was. You know, student council perks.” 

“Ah.”

“Please don’t find it creepy.”

“I won’t, you dork.” You bend over to reach your locker since it was on the bottom row. Sunghoon stepped aside to let you open your locker, and his breath hitches in his throat. Seeing the back of your thighs in a skirt that was hiked up higher than it was supposed to was bewitching. He felt like he was in a trance and lingered his eyes on your legs for quite a while. Your skirt was just at the edge of the curvature of your ass, leaving some to the imagination but not much. You knew exactly what you were doing. You had many cheap tricks up your sleeve, and you were going to use them to your advantage. You could practically feel his gaze on you and you can’t help but smirk as you grab your calculus textbook along with your pencil bag, still bent over taking your time putting the items in your backpack. Sunghoon knows he has to stop staring or otherwise this won’t look good for him.

“Ready to go?” you say with a smile. It takes a moment for him to process what just happened and he’s all the while wondering how did your legs not hurt when you didn’t crouch to the ground all the way.

“Of course.”

-

The walk to your home was pleasant, you looked down at your shoes often and Sunghoon mapped out what sections you two were to go over in the textbook, including the homework that was assigned today. You asked him how his classes went and he responded after pausing to mull over his thoughts.

“It’s okay. Nothing exciting happened other than right now.” he says, looking at you while giving you his undivided attention. You can’t help but admire the beauty that is Sunghoon. His soft looking hair that frames his face nicely and the way he has his hands shoved into the pockets of his uniform slacks make him look so boyishly handsome and breathtaking.

It takes a moment for you to respond. “What about right now is so exciting?”

He gently smiles and looks away from you. “I don’t tutor people often. Every once in a while I get asked to help students about a few things but never really spend enough time with them to consider it tutoring. And the change of pace on how I manage my time is much needed. I don’t interact with different people often, so this is...nice.”

Your heart races as the clouds take over the blue sky slowly. You notice just how pretty the cute moles on his face are as your gaze lingers on them for a bit. He does that stupid charming smile that makes you giddy and you blush, picking up the pace. You start turning while walking backwards just to give him your undivided attention.

“We should walk faster, Sunghoon. It might start drizzling.”

-

Both of you entered your home and took your shoes off at the front door. Sunghoon took a quick glance at your home, to which he said “this is a cozy house.” You tell him your bedroom is the coziest spot in the house, and let him trail behind you as you go up the stairs, and he doesn’t miss the way your pretty and dainty hand smooths over the railing as you walk up. Entering your room, he noticed the pink canopy bed right away, and the pink heart shaped pillow on it. There were so many details in just one spot, with the floral comforter and lights attached to the tulle. It was pretty and graceful. Light and airy. Soft.

“You can sit on the bed. Let me get changed out of this uniform, it’s so hot in this blazer.” you say as you start to strip in front of your closet, looking away from Sunghoon. Now, Sunghoon doesn’t see himself as a pervert, so therefore, when he noticed you unbuttoning your white button up and could only see the smoothness of your back and notice there was no bra in sight, his cheeks flushed. He quickly turned the other cheek and looked anywhere else but you. Unfortunately, perhaps fortunately, you had a full length mirror with fake pink roses running along its sides across your room. Sunghoon tried really, really hard to look at the curve of the pink petals and not at the curve of your breasts when you turned to the side slightly, but he failed so horribly. He could see himself and his cheeks were beet red. The bulge in his pants was so noticeable too. He quickly placed his backpack on his lap and winced at how heavy it was against him. Why did that kinda feel good?

You turn around wearing your school uniform skirt still but this time with a bright red crop top and of course, no bra. Sunghoon is dying and he can’t help but stare at how prominent your nipples are through the thin material. You take the pigtails down and he loves the way your hair cascades down your shoulders once it’s out of its confines of a scrunchie. He blinks once, twice, many times. Maybe if he sees only the back of his eyelids long enough he will stop picturing you naked. It doesn’t work, and you just stand with your hands on your hips and a lilt to your voice.

“Are you thirsty?” you say sweetly, knowing your tricks are working.

“Uh, y-yeah. Do you have water? Can I have water please?” Sunghoon is so precious.

“Of course you can.”

-

You really are a chintzy whore at best. Your excuse for not sitting at the desk of your room to study was that there was only one comfy study chair, and that you didn’t feel like bringing the dining room chair upstairs. That’s understandable, right? You could’ve however used the chair at your vanity, but that’s just a padded stool with no back to it. Wouldn’t want you or Sunghoon to forget and lean back too far and fall to your doom. So you told Sunghoon that you would rather study in your bed.

You played a little playlist in the background, something mellow and soft and not too distracting. Every once in a while Sunghoon will ask what song it is, and you respond with a chipper in your voice.

“Oh, this one is Sex and Sadness by Madi Sipes and the Painted Blue!”

“That’s one hell of a title.” he chuckles.

“It sure is. The lyrics are so...pretty? I can’t put it into words. The part where it talks about ‘stained glass loved lace’ gets me every time. And ‘whispering words into the singer’s skin.’ It’s romantic.” Sunghoon notices how there’s a certain dazzling feature in your eyes as you talk about the song. He wants to stare in your eyes, but alas you have to finish this one problem. Sunghoon prioritizes responsibilities over such silly, frivolous things that only he notices.

“So tell me how you’re going to solve this problem.” Sunghoon says swiftly while grabbing the glass of water on your nightstand.

You stare at the problem and try your best to concentrate. You really do. But you can’t help the way Sunghoon’s hand looks lazily placed on his thigh. Without much thought, you trace a finger on the back of his hand and say, “Your hands are so veiny.”

“Y/N.”

“And big.”

Well that’s a first, Sunghoon thinks. He knows he’a good looking, a bunch of girls swoon over him at school and at the rink all the time. The most common compliment he gets is on his eyes, and maybe hair, but not on his hands of all things. You’re fascinated by them, and you won’t stop tracing along the veins. Your touch sets his skin ablaze, and it doesn’t seem like you’re finishing this problem any time soon.

“Let’s take a break. I think you’re getting distracted because your brain is all fried.” Sunghoon says softly, still letting you continue playing with his hand.

“I’m getting distracted because I have a pretty boy in my bed.” you giggle. You finally look up and see how pink his cheeks are from blushing.

He starts to stammer “You’re the one that wants to study in your bed!” His voice is a little pitched and you can’t contain your laughs. 

“Do you want to move to the desk then?” you ask.

He shakes his head and mumbles a “no.” A few moments pass and you almost didn’t hear what he says next because it’s under his breath.

“I’ve never been called pretty before.”

“Gasp.” you say, lightheartedly.

“No but like, I’ve been called handsome, smart, a little weird, but not pretty.” Sunghoon replies. A moment of silence passed, and you started to ponder.

“There’s a song called Pretty Boy in my playlist somewhere.”

You go over to your laptop and click on The Neighbourhood song. You sway your hips gently and get lost into the music. Sunghoon just gazes at you as you move along to the steady pulse of the music and let the melodies feel you instead of the other way around. You do a little twirl and waltze your way to your bed, grabbing his hand.

“Dance with me.”

He obliged, wordlessly.

He takes in the words of the lyrics and closes his eyes. If he can’t see how close he is to you right now, it feels less real. It feels less scary. Not that you’re scary, Sunghoon doesn’t think girls with pink heart shaped pillows are scary. What’s scary is you laughing at his boner because he hasn’t been this close to a girl before since a random winter formal he had in grade school. The girl wasn’t all that nice since she dipped to dance with his friend. You’re much softer and nice. More delicate. You even smell nicer. God, your little hands enclosed together behind his neck and his big hands on your waist feels too good to be true. He can feel your gaze on him.

“Sunghoon, open your eyes.” He does, and his breath hitches and you look down, because you definitely feel something poking you and it wasn’t there before.

“I have to go, I have a curfew and it’s getting late, I’ll walk myself out.”

“Sunghoon I can at least walk you down-“

“No, seriously. I can go by myself. Thank you though.”

He’s so wide eyed and his cheeks are so rosy and he dashes away like his life depends on it. And you didn’t even get to kiss him.

[sylverstorms]

Cassandra x Maiden----Anonymity

Three months, two days and seven hours.

That is how long you’ve been in Dimitrescu castle for. If rumor is to be believed, you are well on your way to setting the year’s record for longest living maid. Well. ‘Maid’, according to their perception. Your mind always automatically corrects it to something more fitting:

Prisoner.  

You did not choose to work for them. You did not choose to be in this godforsaken place, cleaning crimson stains off the floors, trying to convince yourself the wailing that sometimes reaches your ears is simply the wind. You never would have imagined your life’s end like this, serving wine –no, who are you kidding, it’s too crimson for that— to the Dimitrescus at dinner until one of them snaps and drives the nearest blade into your throat.

Probably Daniela.

It’s not unheard of. And stories of other maids’ murders are plenty.

Daniela has bitten one’s throat off for the crime of addressing her wrongly. Cassandra has left increasingly deep gashes, some of which resulted in deaths, for random offenses, like staring at her for too long. Bela, arguably the more merciful of the three, has snapped necks only when the staff disrespected her sisters’ names, or her mother’s.

You aren’t sure if you want to thank the older maids for this information or yell at them for the nightmares it has caused you. You are lucky to not be in the village, they say –everyone there must already be dead. You are even luckier to have been taken from the dungeon by the Lady herself. It means the daughters don’t know you and the castle is big enough that they may never spare you a glance.

You hadn’t believed it, at first.

Yet in the three months of your stay, you have never come across anyone other than Bela in the sections you were assigned to clean and polish. She passed you by the hallway like she did the decorations and the furniture –and you couldn’t be happier about it. You have caught scarce glimpses of Alcina Dimitrescu, too. Never the other two residents.

Not until the fateful day another maid disappears and the staff’s assigned posts change. You have no say in it and no power to object.

May as well keep my head down and continue to work as carefully as I have. That is the idea. Not to look too much, or think too much, or feel too much. Avoid mistakes because those in the castle are fatal.  

It is a little difficult to remain utterly calm when the sound of swarming insects comes from far behind you, though.

Your blood starts to kick in your veins. Your heart wants to jump out of your chest and make a run for it. You lock your muscles down and summon all the willpower you possess to stay focused on your task.

Please be Bela, please, please, be Bela—

The buzzing dies down. Steps approach you in the otherwise silent hallway. They are too light to be Bela’s. You’re probably screwed, you think, but you keep cleaning the surface in front of you until it’s practically a mirror with how it shines.

The steps halt too close to you for comfort. Out of the corner of your eye, you realize they’ve left bloody imprints on the floor you’ve been polishing for hours now. Dainty, pale fingers are wrapped loosely, almost lazily, around a sickle dripping crimson.    

“Never seen you around, before.” the sound of her voice makes you freeze.

You stop and turn— to face none other than Cassandra Dimitrescu. Her hood is down, brunette waves on point, the dried blood at her chin a terrible contrast to her otherwise attractive face. You… didn’t know she was that pretty, up close.

“I… I have been here for three months. On the opposite wing.” you say. Was I even supposed to reply? You’ll find out soon enough, if your tongue is still attached to your body.

Her eyes give you a quick once-over. “Bela’s been keeping you a secret, huh.” she tsks. Her free hand goes to the handle of the door next to you… and only then do you realize it must be her bedroom. You’re literally assigned to clean the wolf’s den. “Come wake me up when the sun has set, completely.” she emphasizes.

What.

“Uh—”

The crimson-dyed sickle moves until its blade rests underneath your chin, lifting it so your eyes meet hers. From this angle, under the pale lighting of dawn, they look more –stunning— blue than inhuman gold. “No loud sounds. No lights. Got it?”

How can you not, when your life depends on it?

“Yes, my lady.” you reply. You don’t even dare draw breath.

“Good.” In one swift movement, the sickle is gone, the handle turned and she’s already shedding her robe.

You catch a glimpse of a black corset and a narrow waist before you avert your eyes.

The door shuts.

...

Waking Cassandra up can be… tricky, the other maids tell you.

She detests light when she opens her eyes but she also doesn’t want it to be pitch black. You’re not supposed to talk but you can’t shake her, either. Which brings you to the very logical question:

“What the hell am I supposed to do, then?”

To which they have no answer.

They have no answer, you realize with a start… because there’s nobody alive to tell the tale of how to actually wake the brunette sleeping beauty up without simultaneously signing their own death sentence.

The hours pass both too slow and too fast. The sun sets over the horizon.

And you stand, riddled with nerves, outside Cassandra’s room.

A deep inhale later, you turn the handle. The door is left half-open so a bit of light comes in from the hallway. Her bedroom smells like shampoo, bath salts and spices. She must have taken a shower before she went to sleep. You approach the figure tucked under the silken sheets of the queen-sized bed…

Cassandra is lying on her side, one hand underneath her pillow, the other extended loosely towards the edge of the mattress. She probably sleeps naked, at least from the waist up, but thankfully the covers are wrapped around her chest. Their royal red color makes a stark contrast against the paleness of her skin.

Her face is so… serene.

She is a monster and a sadistic killer, yet right there you can’t deny she looks more like a renaissance painting.

Now onto the hard part.

“My lady… the sun has set.” you whisper, kneeled on the floor beside her. No movement comes. “Hey… I’m here to wake you up?” you try again. Still nothing. Shakily, you bring your hand up to the bed. Not daring to touch her, you leave it beside hers, over the covers. “Cassandra?”

She turns her face deeper into her pillow –no, no, you don’t think it’s cute, what’s wrong with you— but at least she’s finally reacting. You call her name one more time.

Her nose scrunches up a little. Long fingers flex –and they touch yours. She’s cold. A pair of blueish ambers blink open to regard you. Not with malice, or with annoyance.

“Good evening.” you speak, unsure of what else to say.

A smirk slowly curves her lips. She looks like a lazy cat pondering whether or not it’s worth it to pounce and that’s not good. It’s not good, not ‘hot’ like your mind suggests. God, you’ve been in this castle so long you are starting to get messed up.

“Mm, breakfast in bed.” she grins and licks her lower lip sexily. Your eyes fly wide open, but her hand is already gripping the front of your black shirt, trapping you there.

How could you ever find this psycho attractive?! you get mad at yourself. Is she hot now that she’s going to kill you?  

But Cassandra only lets out an airy laugh and releases you. You fall backwards on your behind. “Breathe, darling, I’m joking.” She rolls onto her back and seems to wince from it. Her smile vanishes.

“…does… your back hurt?” you ask when you finally find your voice again.

“Ugh, a Lycan landed a hit on me. He’s pieces now, of course, but my muscles still pull.” she says it casually, like it’s a thing that happens.

Silence falls over the room. You take it as your cue to leave. You stand and bow while she’s looking blankly at the ceiling—

But she stops you.

“Wait. Come here.” you don’t like it when she gets that tone, like she came up with something she cannot wait to try. You’re already close to the bed, you’re not sure what she means. Until she pats the spot right next to her. “Don’t make me say it again.”

You won’t. You know what’s good for you.

Hesitantly, you take a seat on the –admittedly very comfortable— mattress. “Yes, lady?”

“Give me a massage.” she says like it’s your job, like she’s the rich woman in a spa and it’s what’s expected. She turns onto her front, bearing her naked back to you and you have less than five seconds to come to terms with the thought of straddling her.

Carefully, you bring your knees on either side of her thighs and pull the sheets so they rest low at her waist. You feel warmer than you should given the temperature of the castle. If she knows the fine teasing line she’s walking, she is loving every inch of it.

Cassandra loves being the center of attention and she loves being pampered, you realize.

It’s probably amusing to her to make you fluster, but this is also an opportunity for you to get on her good graces. She is a dangerous one and it’ll be a great asset for your survival if she’s leaning favorably towards you. Win-win situation. You just have to be good at your job. Like always.

By some miracle of God, you do know how to work the tension out of muscles.

The first time you touch her, you simply rest your hands on her back to warm it. She doesn’t seem to object, from the way lean muscle stretches out under your fingers. Cassandra feels cool, but not hard like marble. Her skin yields under your touch, soft and smooth.

As you apply more pressure to your stokes, she starts to let out little sighs that you have to mute in your mind before they start to affect you. You’ve been high-strung and without sex for too long. Your body all too eagerly intercepts this death-trap as foreplay.

Minutes roll by.

You alternate between all the methods you know. The one that really seems to get her is when you drive your thumb into the knots and end with a little circle.

Cassandra is –God help you— openly moaning every time you press more. It is a bit too much pressure you’re applying though and you don’t know if you’re hurting her and she’s just into it.

“Is this too much…?” you ask. Fuck, why do you sound so breathless?

“No, it’s good.” she husks back.

“Harder?” You don’t know what innocent means, anymore.

Cassandra sends that little smirk again over her shoulder. “Harder.” she replies and the extra flair she puts into it is enough to nearly fry your brain. And other parts of you.

You’re pretty sure you need a cold shower by the time you leave her room.

...

At diner, you hang back in the shadows, gaze downcast.

You do not need to know what the Dimitrescu family is eating, nor what they’re drinking. You do not need to see Cassandra or risk catching Daniela’s gaze. You love your anonymity in the castle. It has kept you alive.

But it is shattered like frail glass when you bring another bottle of Sanguis Virginis to the table. You’ve almost retreated back to your place, when Daniela’s eyes zero in on you.

“She’s the human!” she exclaims like she’s made the world’s most startling discovery. Bela seems to understand, but the Lady and Cassandra frown over their glasses.

“I am almost afraid to ask, love.” Lady Alcina says…

And she’s right.

“The one who made Cassandra go ‘harder’ and ‘yes, yes!’ earlier this evening.” she impersonates in her sluttiest voice and then breaks into a fit of cackles. Bela’s lip twists into a withheld chuckle.

Lady Dimitrescu nearly chokes on her wine.

Cassandra slaps the back of Daniela’s head. “You’re such an idiot.”

“Girls.” Alcina warns and glares until the table calms again.

Then, her eyes curiously fall upon you.

So much for your anonymity.

Ko-Fi

[taechaos]

A Parting Gift

Continuation of Blackmail from Textbook Love

pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader

genre: drabble, smut, college au

synopsis: "He told me he would leak your video if you don’t give him a handjob."

warnings: deception/manipulation, dubcon, handjob, spit, slight angst

word count: 2.4k

tag: @mwitsmejk

a/n: jungkook is a bit cruel in this 😖 a flop.

Every time you think about Jimin seeing you in your most vulnerable state, you want to cry, gag, vomit, but all you can do is look down and walk away from his direction in a hurry. Jungkook told you to avoid him, and it’s the easiest option for you right now, but you wish you could tell him it was an accident. If he doesn’t see you, he’ll forget it quicker and save you the embarrassment.

It’s been three days since the incident, and it’s Monday as you clutch your binder to your chest while walking to your afternoon lecture. The coast is clear when you scurry down the halls, the lightning dim due to the gloomy weather outside. It’s going to rain soon, but you got off easy by arriving early. The campus is not crowded yet, just as you expected before coming. Chances of seeing Jimin are supposed to be lowered in this instance, but the boy really can’t take a hint.

You hear him holler your name from a distance in the corridor, and you quicken your steps anxiously. You’re internally begging for him to leave you alone, to forget you exist, just to not approach you. The chants don’t matter when he gently holds your shoulder a few seconds later. You screw your eyes shut the moment you’re turned around, hoping he would just go away and spare the shame.

“Hey,” he exhales, out of breath from his short sprint to you. “Why were you ignoring me just now?”

“I didn’t hear you,” you lie and open your eyes. Jimin frowns.

“That’s not true,” he mumbles, “I was pretty loud and you don’t even have earphones in.”

You don’t say anything and grimace at the floor instead, avoiding his gaze for as long as you can. You’re not a good liar, and Jimin realizes that all too quickly. He continues quietly, “Is this about the… video?”

“It was an accident!” you blurt out with flushed cheeks, “J-Jungkook was going to send it to himself, but…”

She’s so dense, Jimin thinks in astonishment. “He told you that?” He knows it was on purpose; Jungkook was sending him a message beyond the media: that he stands no chance; that you belong to him. He was telling him to back off, but Jimin is more strong-willed than that.

“Yes… please forget about that video.” You avert your gaze to him pleadingly.

“I’m not judging you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he tries to comfort, “but are you sure it wasn’t intentional?”

Both of you miss Jungkook exiting the lecture hall when you respond. His brows furrow the moment he notices the interaction, but his vision is blocked by other students leaving. He shoves a few as he watches you from afar, your back facing him and Jimin’s expression angering him with its doubtful look. Why the fuck is he still talking to her? He fumes in his spot until you turn back on your path to attend your lecture. You glance at him mid-way and all of your worries vanish the moment you lock eyes. You are taken aback by his glare as he waves you off and stalks up to Jimin who is just idly standing by without moving.

He only breaks out of his trance when Jungkook grabs him by his collar. “I’m guessing you didn’t hear what she said,” he refers to the video with a subtle snarl.

“Heard it loud and clear,” Jimin retaliates obnoxiously. The halls are emptying itself out, and he grows a bit more nervous when he realizes that he’s alone.

“Are you fucking dense? Why are you still following her around like a fucking creep?” He’s greeted with silence, and another possibility dawns on him. A cheshire grin crosses his features as he scoffs, “Oh, you liked it, didn’t you?”

Jimin blinks, dumbfounded, but doesn’t respond. He’s harshly shoved and the back of his head bangs against the wall, echoing in the otherwise silent area. An oomf escapes his mouth at the force, but Jungkook isn’t apologetic.

“You jacked off to it, Jimin?” he closes in on the suffering man who only stares at him. “Answer me.”

“N-No, I wouldn’t-” He’s cut off by the stinging pain on his scalp. 

Jungkook yanks his hair back without mercy, and sings, “Stuttering, avoiding eye contact, taking too long to respond… all signs of lying, no?”

“You’re hurting me,” Jimin holds onto his wrist with both hands as he groans. Jungkook only tugs on it harder.

“I’ll let go if you answer me honestly.” 

Jimin knows that Jungkook is waiting for one specific answer; it is obvious by the sick glint in his eyes. Alas, he tries again, “I-I didn’t do that!”

A deep sigh leaves his mouth with an eye roll, and he brings his free hand to wrap his fingers around Jimin’s neck. He doesn’t put any pressure on him yet, and Jimin is helpless because of the weight pressing against his legs to prevent him from kicking. “Pity,” he mutters, “I never took you for a pervert and a liar.”

The air leaves Jimin’s lungs all too soon when Jungkook tightens his grip on his throat, crushing his windpipes without so much as an expression on his face. Jimin claws at his arm as he wheezes, and Jungkook doesn’t react in the slightest; he looks psychopathic. “Yes,” he finally croaks, “I did.”

He coughs the moment Jungkook removes his hands from him. He bends on his knees as he catches his breath, and the deadly man waits patiently. “You did what?”

“I-I… I jacked off to it,” he swallows audibly.

“Jacked off to what? Your sex life doesn’t interest me.”

“I jacked off to the video of you fingering… her.” Jimin is once again reminded of how cruel Jungkook is, and all he wants is for you to realize that before it’s too late. But he isn’t any better when he is admitting the truth of his wrongful actions.

“Christ…” he trails and shakes his head. He’s feigning disgust, but it works in making Jimin feel worse. “I bet you’d pay to watch it live.”

“Jungkook, please,” he begs hoarsely, his throat dry and scratchy from the suffocation, “stop this. You don’t even love her.”

“Jimin,” he says monotonously, “count yourself lucky that I don’t have any scissors on me, because I’d cut your tongue off right about now. Your voice gives me a headache,” he sighs, “meet me in the lounge at 4.”

You’re worried and twitching on the edge of your seat during your lecture. Conversing with Jimin was awkward, and him telling you Jungkook had lied to you was infuriating, but it shifted to anxiety when Jungkook appeared upset with you. Why do you always do things wrong?

Dwelling on your feelings is not an option when you have to focus on your professor, and you’re overwhelmed with so many things at once. Your exams; Jungkook’s assignments; Jimin’s persistence are all taking a toll on you. You don’t hesitate to escape reality when your phone vibrates in your pocket. It’s a message from Jungkook and your heart fills with relief as you open it under the desk. It reads:

come straight to the lounge after your lecture.

He’s been interacting with you outside of academical topics, and it feels like you’ve hit a milestone. It’s progress at its finest! He’s waiting for you. Time passes too slow for you, and you eagerly take notes to distract yourself; it works, and you’re out of the hall in a rush.

Students are packing up their belongings just as you stride into the lounge. Jungkook is sitting at the far back, and you almost miss his figure. He’s scrolling through his phone when you reach him and your shallow breaths make him look up. 

“Hi,” you breathe and place your sling bag on the coffee table. The room is spacious and the couches are wide and comfortable. You sit down next to him, your leg touching his spread one.

“Hey baby,” he greets with a smile. You internally scream at the rare pet name, unaware that he’s intentionally riling you up. “How was your lecture?”

“It was good! I missed you so much,” you lean into him, “I didn’t upset you earlier, did I?”

“Of course not, princess. I missed you too,” he palms your cheek before pecking the tip of your nose. “Oh, and Jimin will be joining us today.”

You don’t get to relish in Jungkook’s affection long before your eyes widen. “What? Why?”

“I spoke to him earlier today, and well…” he sighs guiltily, “He told me he would leak your video if you don’t give him a handjob. And I agreed on my terms.”

Your lips part as hatred consumes you. Jungkook knows you would do it, and he knows you’ll hold a grudge. And Jimin… well, he’ll definitely have this experience to keep him satisfied for a while.

Said man stands before the both of you timidly. You’re still in shock when you avert your gaze to him. Jungkook is unexpectedly friendly as he stands up and says, “Jimin! Take a seat.” Jimin sits in his former seat wordlessly as Jungkook plops on the loveseat across. “I don’t think we should drag this out longer than it needs to be.” He juts his chin at you, “Start.”

Jimin is perplexed when you hide your face from him as you unbuckle his belt. “Wh-What are you doing?” he asks, but doesn’t stop you.

Before you can respond, Jungkook says, “She knows.” You and Jimin have two different interpretations of his words, and he is baffled by your reaction to it. You’re going to pleasure him because of what he did? Or is this all an attempt at cutting his dick off?

Your upper body covers your actions from any outsiders, but Jimin is worried he won’t be able to stay quiet when your hand massages his crotch over his briefs. It’s a wet dream come true, really, as he involuntarily inches closer to you. Jungkook leans his cheek on his palm as he watches you in boredom. “Take it out,” he instructs you. You don’t glance at Jimin as you push down his underwear and wrap your hand around his erection. He’s not fully erect because he’s still confused, but the more you stroke him, the harder it grows. “You like it?”

Jimin is conflicted between responding and ignoring, but his noises are the only answer Jungkook needs. He is suppressing moans with gasps, shuddering in his seat because your hand feels so soft and you look so pretty and shy. When you pick up your head to gaze at him questioningly, he replies, “Y-Yes.” 

He is entranced by your doe eyes but Jungkook breaks the building tension by mocking, “You look like you want to kiss her. Calm yourself.”

There’s a brief pause before you ask, “Would it make you… cum faster?”

Jungkook leans his elbows on his knees in interest, a smirk plastered on his face at the power dynamic: both of you are playing along to his strings, two puppets under his control. It makes him curious to see how far you’re willing to go before he’s completely rid of Jimin. The only reason he’s allowing this to happen is because of how pathetic Jimin looks now, and how he’ll be utterly crushed when you never speak to him again. It’s a bittersweet parting memory.

“Um…” he hesitates, but thinks if you decided to give him a handjob, a kiss wouldn’t make you uncomfortable. “Yes?”

You inch your face closer to his, and the both of you look like middle schoolers with how slow your lips eventually meet. It’s a sloppy and amateur kiss with Jimin whining into your mouth, his tongue swiping across your lips recklessly. He’s lost in the pleasure, and it’s clear to you that he’s never done anything like this before. Your thumb grazes the tip of his stiff length, and he begins to twitch under you. You use your other hand to pump his girth, your lips awkwardly pressing against his plump ones.

“Spit in his mouth.”

You abruptly pull away to gawk at Jungkook, but he only raises a brow intimidatingly, as if daring you to defy him. “Open,” you demand Jimin. His eyes are hazy, and he has no idea what he’s doing. He’s drunk on your touch as he parts his glistening lips and slightly sticks out his tongue. You spit on it and he flicks his tongue out to collect all of it, swallowing with a deep rumble resounding from his chest. He’s enjoying this far too much.

You don’t notice him cum with a thrust in the air when you kiss him, but as it begins to coat your fingers, you look down to see his oozing leak. It’s not spurting, and you’re grateful for it when you scoot away from him. He’s panting with his head thrown back on the couch headrest. 

Jungkook breaks his silence by cooing to you, “Are you okay, baby?” You nod with a pout, head turned away from Jimin. You’re waiting for Jungkook’s cue to leave so you can speak your mind. “You can go now.”

Without skipping a beat, you seethe, “Fuck you, Jimin. Don’t talk to me ever again or else I will report you to the dean. I hate you, and I hope to never see you again.” You make your grand departure right after, and the man sputters incoherently in confusion.

“What did I do…?”

“Now, Jimin, you heard the girl,” he grins and clasps his hands, “she may take pity on you, but I won’t. One word from you to her, and you’re fucked.”

“If you’re so jealous, why would you let her do that to me?”

He merely shrugs. “Who is she waiting for after giving you a handjob?” he stands up and towers over the seated man who is fumbling with his belt. “I was being nice to you before she completely cut contact with you. You’re welcome by the way.”

As he exits the lounge, he scoffs to himself, “Jealous. What a joke.”

He has no reason to be jealous, because when he's outside, you're shuffling on your feet with your hands held behind your back with a bright smile as you turn to look at him.

"There's my girl," he affirms with a lopsided grin.

It shouldn't feel so reassuring when you reply, "Always yours." And as long as you are, you should be content with only having him in your life.

Because he's never going to catch you talking to another boy again, even if it's his former best friend.

[itadorisgf]

— the lyre’s tune

⤷ 🦋 nonnie suggested: sending love songs to ur s/o

edit: it’s more like jjk characters as love songs im sorry 😭😭

note: im a sucker for music shit <33 send me song recs and we will fall in love.

ft. fushiguro megumi, gojo satoru, itadori yuuji, kugisaki nobara, nanami kento, sukuna ryomen.

warning: light angst, but overall it’s very fluffy

⤷ main page

— fushiguro megumi.

now playing: when i look into your eyes (feat. lanie) by khaki dreams

to put it bluntly, fushiguro sucks at emotions.

he’s often been told that he’s too cold or unfeeling.

it’s through no fault of his own that he doesn’t exactly have the greatest grasp on emotions and feelings.

but it is the reason why he has such a difficult time discerning what he feels for you.

your relationship is platonic, but is fushiguro content with that or does he desire more?

fushiguro isn’t exactly against the idea of love, but it’s not like he’s actively searching it out.

due to the low number of first years, you’re a tight knit group. you’re all close to one another, however your personality meshes best with nobara and itadori.

as fushiguro attempts to figure out his feelings, he unconsciously pulls away from you. he doesn’t hangout with you as often and is much more quiet than usual, which is saying something.

nobara tells you that fushiguro’s just been fushiguro when you mention how he seems more closed off than he normally is, but you’re concerned for the divide he’s creating between the two of you.

meanwhile fushiguro is undergoing his own emotional turmoil.

fushiguro pulls away so much from you that you end up confronting him. you express your worries for him and question if everything’s all right with him.

and when fushiguro lifts his head to meet your gaze, he knows where his feelings lie.

in that moment, fushiguro realizes that he wants to be more than a friend to you.

— gojo satoru.

now playing: 505 by arctic monkeys

gojo satoru is like a thorn in your side that you just can’t seem to get rid of no matter how hard you try.

you’ve known each other for so long that your relationship with the man is certainly complicated to say the least.

you’d tentatively say that the two of you are currently friends, but it’s difficult to be friends with someone who was once your everything.

you had been friends with benefits for awhile before you two became lovers. dating gojo was a natural progression of your relationship and it came so easy to the two of you. it was nice. for awhile at least. before it all came crashing down.

you became fed up with how he treated your feelings so lightly as if they didn’t matter. so you broke up with him.

the break up took a toll on you, but it hurt more seeing how gojo appeared to be so unaffected by it.

but enough time has passed since then that you can say your current relationship isn’t as bad as you would’ve thought considering you’re coworkers with your ex-boyfriend.

gojo is still as flirty and charming as ever.

you truly believe that it’s this man’s mission in life to bother you.

it’s not that you don’t still have feelings for gojo, but you don’t want to get hurt like you did last time.

your feelings aren’t something to be played with and you refuse to let gojo in again just for your relationship to wind up like it did before.

gojo knows that his actions affect you even if you pretend they don’t. he notices the way you stumble over your words before quickly composing yourself when he accidentally brushes his hands against your lower back. the way your eyes widen before you glare at him when he makes a sexual innuendo in front of your shared students.

but what gojo didn’t know is how bad the breakup affected you.

gojo never stopped loving you, but you were the one to break up with him. if you didn’t want to be with him that was fine, he would just act like he was completely okay with that. gojo was able to keep up the appearance that he was okay after you left, but he missed you a lot.

and when you break down in tears in front of gojo asking why he’s messing with your head when you know he doesn’t love you anymore, gojo’s heart drops.

a serious expression crosses his face when he gently places his hands on your cheeks to tilt your head up to meet his eyes. with his thumbs he wipes away your tears and asks, “who said i didn’t love you anymore?”

— itadori yuuji.

now playing: whoa by snoh aalegra

itadori’s crush on you is so apparent to everyone.

but it’s not like he’s attempting to hide it at all.

the way he trails after you like a puppy confirms that.

he tries to spend as much time with you as he can and hangs off of your every word.

most of the time he’s not actually listening to you though. he really does try to follow what you’re saying, but then he gets distracted by how nice you look in the sunlight and how you look really good in your uniform that he’s startled when you jog him out of his daydreaming.

he flushes and apologizes for getting distracted and asks if you could repeat what you said. you don’t get mad when that happens and just laugh it off, and itadori is so captivated by the sound of your laughter that you ask if something’s on your face with how hard he’s looking at you.

so it’s no secret that itadori harbors a crush on you. everyone is aware of that fact except one person: you.

it’s not you haven’t been told that before. nobara along with a couple of your upperclassmen have confirmed that itadori does indeed have a crush on you, but you just don’t believe it.

how could itadori have a crush on someone like you? you’re sure he doesn’t view you as anything more than a friend.

nobara bluntly tells you that itadori literally never shuts up about you, but you’re still adamant that he only thinks of you as a friend.

it’s not that you don’t like itadori, it’s quite the opposite.

you like him a lot. how could you not? he’s cute and kind and does dumb stuff to make you laugh.

it’s a bit silly, but being by itadori’s side fills you with confidence. you feel like you could exorcise any curse if itadori’s with you. maybe it’s because itadori has so much confidence in you that you can’t help but feel the same.

but you’re convinced that itadori doesn’t like you in that way and itadori can’t seem to tell you that he does.

your friends are sick of your pining dumbasses.

but before they can formulate a plan to get the two of you together, you and itadori figure it out for yourselves.

you’re hanging out like usual, relaxing outdoors after a long day of sparring. you’re staring up at the clouds floating through the sky while itadori lies beside you. he’s admiring the slope of your nose and the curve of your lips when you turn your head to meet his gaze.

your eyes widen when you realize that itadori’s already looking at you, but you don’t say anything. you part your lips open to say something when the silence lingers for a bit too long, but itadori beats you to it.

“can i kiss you right now?”

itadori looks shocked that he said that. you blink once, trying to comprehend what itadori just asked. you blink again before nodding. your voice cracks a little when you respond with “y-yeah.”

— kugisaki nobara.

now playing: cloud nine by beach bunny

nobara is confident in herself. she prides herself on being independent and never searching for validation in the form of other people.

she knows her own worth and won’t let anyone else diminish it or tell her otherwise.

but she must admit that there is no feeling comparable to when she’s with you.

others have complained to her before that she’s loud and self-absorbed. nobara’s never really cared for what others thought of her.

but she’s happy that you don’t think of her that way.

nobara doesn’t have to worry about how she comes across because you love her for who she is.

you love how blunt she can be. you love how she always sticks up for herself and how unafraid she is from backing down.

you love how she won’t let others talk bad about you either. you insist that she doesn’t have to and that you can handle it yourself, but nobara just tells you that “nobody gets to talk shit about my s/o.”

your favorite thing ever is when you manage to catch nobara off-guard with a compliment. normally when you compliment her, she replies “i know,” with a grin on her face, which makes you fall even further for her.

but sometimes when you’re feeling particularly soft, you tell her something along the lines of, “you’re so beautiful and i’m really lucky to call you mine.” nobara goes red and will only manage a shaky “s-shut up,” in response as she tries to hide her flush.

to say the least, you are completely and utterly whipped for nobara. not that you’re complaining about it.

it’s safe to say that you adore her.

nobara loves you just as much in return.

if her confidence ever falters, all it takes is you gently squeezing her hand, reminding her that you’re there beside her, for any doubt to fade away.

because when you’re around, nobara knows she can face any challenge that comes her way. she’s not alone and she has you to support her through anything.

— nanami kento.

now playing: care by sonder

nanami and you both have busy lives.

as sorcerers, you don’t exactly have a lot of down time. you make it work, though.

lately it seems you’ve been running yourself ragged.

you’ve been assigned more missions as of late and nanami’s barely seen you in the past week.

the only prolonged period of time he’s spent with you is when you’re both asleep and even then, you slip into bed late into the evening.

besides that it’s a rushed kiss here and a quick i love you there.

he’s concerned for your well-being. it’s not healthy to be working so often especially in your line of work, which requires you to be in top mental and physical condition.

so when you come home from your latest mission, nanami’s there to greet you at the door.

you’re surprised to see him waiting up for you considering it’s late at night.

he’s dressed in more relaxed clothing, and laying on the couch, thumbing through a book.

when he hears the front door creak open and sees you stumble inside, nanami places the book down and looks at you.

“i ran a bath for you already. after you get dressed, you can eat the dinner i prepared.”

you give him a tired, but grateful grin in return and cheekily ask him to join you in the bath.

nanami denies your request, but he does sit on the edge of the bathtub to keep you company. he’ll wash your hair and your back for you, and the tension in your shoulders melts away when nanami drags his hand in between them.

he hands you a towel to dry off along with one of his t-shirts and a pair of sleep shorts for you to change into.

after you change into your clothes for the night, you drag yourself into the kitchen and come up behind nanami, wrapping your arms around his middle and nuzzling your face into the space in between his shoulders.

“thank you, kento,” you sleepily tell him, pressing a kiss to his back.

nanami turns around in your hold to press a kiss to your forehead, “always, my love.”

— sukuna ryomen.

now playing: hold me down by daniel caesar

sukuna loathes how he feels for you.

it’s pathetic that the king of curses harbors any sort of fondness for a mortal.

you drive him mad. he cannot fathom what it is that draws him to you.

but sukuna finds it oh so amusing that you like him.

you’re painfully obvious about your little puppy dog crush on him.

he loves popping up while itadori is talking to you and will insert himself into the conversation.

he aims to fluster you and revels in the way your words will falter and you’ll start tripping up on what you were saying.

although he likes teasing you, sukuna enjoys it even more when you respond with a quip of your own.

it makes you even more interesting.

you’re intriguing to sukuna.

you don’t approach him with the same fear that other sorcerers do. instead, you approach him with almost a child-like curiosity. you often ask him questions that others never have before like you’re actually interested in what he has to say. you’re a rather strange human, he thinks.

once sukuna accepts that his soft spot for you isn’t going away at all, rather it seems to be getting larger, he gets so possessive. you’re his little human now.

sukuna loves hearing you say that you love him. will make you repeat yourself over and over again. it’s like a boost to his ego.

you tease that he’s your favorite curse, but sukuna’s response is something like “obviously i am.”

you’re the only thing that sukuna has any sort of attachment to so he’s very protective over you.

will not hesitate to strike anyone down that even contemplates harming you because you're his.

[sithsecrets]

rumors | din djarin x reader

A bit of gossip gets under your skin, but Din shows you that it's all a bunch of lies.

---

4k words

mentions: VERY EXPLICIT SMUT, fem!reader, a bit of harassment at the beginning, self-doubt, establishing a relationship, discussions about relationship dynamics, din tells reader his name

---

You know you’re in for trouble the minute two Guild Members sidle up next to you at the bar, shit-eating grins plastered on both of their faces.

They greet you and the baby with a kind of fake friendliness that makes your skin crawl, and not for the first time do you wonder what’s taking Mando and Greef so fucking long. The two men usually do business in under ten minutes, five if Mando can manage it, but of course today is the one day they decide to shoot the shit and pal around like old friends.

“So you’re Mando’s crew member, huh?” asks one of the bounty hunters, light eyes glinting mischievously as he leans in. “What’s he paying you these days anyway? Because I’d be happy to double his rate if it meant getting to have something as pretty as you around me all the time.”

“Ten percent,” you answer, choosing to ignore that last little comment, “and I’m perfectly okay with that.”

“That’s not bad,” Blue Eyes’ friend answers, brushing back a lock of his greasy hair with a smirk. “But what does that fee cover? You just a nanny for whatever the fuck that is,” he gestures to the Child in your lap, “or do you provide Mando with other services as well?”

On your left, Blue Eyes lets out a snicker, and Stringy Hair seems pleased with himself. You huff and roll your eyes, not at all in the mood for this shit.

“I take care of the baby and the ship, and I pilot the Crest from time to time.”

“You hear that, man? She’s a pilot and a maid!”

“Three guesses as to what she gives a good spit shine every night,” and then the two of them are absolutely cracking up, snickering behind their glasses as they toss back a round. They’re just mocking you now, so desperately trying to get a reaction, and you’re horrified by how it’s almost working. You don’t want to give them the satisfaction, but if they so much as—

“Everything alright over here?”

Mando’s voice is like a bucket of cold water down your back, startling you so badly that you almost fall off your barstool. The baby lets out a shriek of surprise, and you rush to make sure he’s secure in your arms before you turn around.

“Just fine,” you lie, rushing to get up. “We were just talking about your latest bounty.”

Stringy Hair and Blue Eyes don’t move to correct you, much more subdued now that Mando’s arrived on the scene. They greet him with respect, but he hardly gives the two dickheads a passing glance.

“We need to get back,” Mando tells you, and you’ve never been so glad to hear those words.

You nod, and then the three of you are trekking back to the Crest in silence. Mando goes up the cockpit immediately once you arrive, off to punch in the coordinates for his next quarry. Apparently Greef’s given him some kind of special assignment, so they journey to the next planet will be a long one.

The Crest lurches into hyperspace within minutes of takeoff, and you try to settle in for the evening, putting the baby down for the night, getting ready for bed yourself. The Child sleeps like a rock, but you aren’t so fortunate, tossing and turning in your little bed. It’s the conversation with those two assholes from earlier that’s got you so restless, their words playing over and over again in your head on loop. You don’t know why what they said bothers you, but it does. It bothers you a lot, in fact, mostly because they weren’t entirely wrong.

Everything you told Blue Eyes and Stringy Hair is true— Mando cuts you in ten percent on his bounties, and in exchange, you take care of the baby, maintain the ship (its living spaces and its mechanics, thank you very much), and you pilot the Crest from time to time when asked. But… But you’ve also fucked Mando before. Twice. Three times if you count the blowjob you gave him last week, but you’re not entirely sure that fits under the definition of “fucking.” Regardless of the details, you’ve had sexual contact with the Mandalorian— this is a fact. Mando’s never directly offered you money in return for sex, but it’s not like he didn’t just pay you your cut of his bounty less than an hour ago. And if those two pigs from the cantina could peg you at fifty yards, Maker knows what everybody else is thinking. Greef, Cara, even Peli on Tatooine— all of them must think you’re just Mando’s whore, right along with the rest of the Guild.

The idea of this weighs heavy on your mind, two parts of you waging an internal war. Your rational side says that you shouldn’t care what other people think of you— you’re a grown woman approaching thirty, and what you do with your body and your time is no one’s business but your own. The side of you that yearns to be accepted, however, worries that everyone’s secretly laughing at your behind your back, that they all think very little of you because of what you’ve done. And how could you blame them? You’ve let your employer fuck you twice, and all without him showing you an ounce of affection otherwise. Just thinking about it makes you feel remorseful, anxiety twisting in your stomach as you toss and turn in bed. And to make things worse, a third voice emerges in your mind, one that’s small and timid and raw. This little part of you wonders what Mando thinks of all this— it wonders what Mando thinks of you. You feel sick the minute it occurs to you, the notion that Mando could think nothing of you as well. Everyone else can say whatever they want, you suppose, if Mando still respects you at the end of the day. If he still cares for you at the end of the day…

After a whole hour, you decide that you won’t be sleeping until you get all of this sorted out. You’re almost shaking with anxiety as you approach the ladder, but you climb up to the cockpit anyway, calling out Mando’s name with a wavering voice. He says you can come in, and so you do, padding into the little space on socked feet.

“Everything okay?” Mando asks, vaguely distracted as he looks through holoimages on the display before him. You catch snatches of the same alien being in each one— Mando’s next quarry, no doubt.

“Yeah,” you say softly. “The baby’s asleep. He went down well tonight.”

Mando hums. “Good.”

“I, um. I’m having trouble sleeping, though, and I was hoping we could talk.”

Mando doesn’t look away from the holoimages as he speaks to you. “What about?”

You balk for a moment, gathering courage. “Us.”

Finally, it would seem you have Mando’s full attention. He shuts off the display and turns his chair until it faces you, the blue light of hyperspace reflecting off his armor and helmet. You grow shy under Mando’s gaze as you so often do, but you force yourself to be brave anyway. You can’t go on like this— you have to know.

“Us?” Mando echoes, titling his helmet just the slightest bit forward. You nod, and he straightens up again, regarding you. “What about us?”

“The sex,” you say slowly, “or, more specifically, why we had sex in the first place.”

“We had sex because we wanted to,” Mando says at once, and you just want to scream. He won’t make this easy on you, will he?

“Right, of course, but… but what made you want to come at me like that? Do you just like my body and how I look, or is it because you pay me—?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Mando cuts, losing all semblance of cool indifference in one fell swoop, “you don’t— Please don’t tell me that you think having sex with me is part of your job.”

“I don’t, I don’t!” you declare, rushing to prevent a miscommunication before it happens. “I just— I just wasn’t sure why you wanted me of all people, and I met some people today that thought you hired me just so you could fuck me or whatever. They—”

“Was it those two fuckheads from the cantina?” Mando asks, tone absolutely murderous, and all you can do is nod. “What exactly did they say?”

“They asked me about my pay and about what’s ‘included in my fee,’” you reply, face burning at the thought of what Stringy Hair and Blue Eyes said at the bar. “They said you were probably paying me for sex the way you pay me to take care of the ship and the baby. It just… It made me self-conscious because we have had sex, and I wasn’t sure what that meant. I know they’re just assholes, but now I’m afraid everybody thinks that of me, especially Cara and Greef and your other friends.”

Mando lets out a long, heavy sigh. “Come here,” he says, beckoning you over with an outstretched hand. You hesitate to move, shocked by the gesture, and the Mandalorian repeats himself. “Come here, cyar’ika, please.”

The beskar is cold against the back of your thighs, but you settle in Mando’s lap anyway, sure you must be dreaming at this point. He fingers the hem of your long, baggy sleepshirt, one arm holding you securely.

“None of my friends think you’re fucking me for money,” Mando begins, “I promise. Those guys from the Guild you met today, they’re assholes just like you said. They might treat their women that way, but that’s not me. It never will be. Understand?”

You nod shyly, relishing in the way Mando begins drawing little circles at the base of your spine.

“Good. Now to answer your question… I had sex with you because I wanted to, yes, but it wasn’t just to get off. The baby likes you, and you do a good job taking care of the ship. People like you wherever we go… Ilike being around you.”

You’re smart enough to know that that’s a big statement coming from a man like Mando, and you reward him for this display of vulnerability with a soft smile.

“I like being around you too, Mando.”

The helmet tilts just the slightest bit, and you wonder what his expression looks like under the beskar.

“I like being around you,” Mando repeats, speaking slowly, “and… and I’m sorry. For starting like that, I mean.”

Your brows draw together. “What are you talking about?”

Mando readjusts his grip on your, and the way his hand settles over the curve of your thigh is enough to make you shiver. “I should have taken my time with you. Fucking you against the wall, bending you over those crates in the back— that’s fine sometimes, but you deserve more.”

“If that’s how you like it, I don’t—”

He cuts you off then, a gloved thumb brushing against your bottom lip.

“I don’t care about me right now,” Mando says evenly, the tone of his voice picking at something deep in your stomach. “What do you want?”

It dawns on you then that this is foreplay— Mando’s decided he wants to fuck you again— and that makes your face hotter than fire itself. You know he’s waiting for an answer, so you decide to speak freely, the consequences of your words be damned.

“I want you to fuck me in bed,” you say slowly, whispering more than you’re talking. “With your gloves off. That’s not against the rules, right? You took them off the other day in front of me and Cara—”

“It’s not, mesh’la,” Mando affirms, the strange word dripping off his tongue like honey. You wonder what it means, though you don’t have the nerve to ask. “Go down to the hull and make us a space on the floor. I’ll be there in a minute.”

---

The darkness is disorienting, the blackness so black that you couldn’t see your own hand if it was two inches in front of your face. That’s by design, though, because none of this would be okay if you couldsee.

You had exactly two conditions earlier in the cockpit: in bed, no gloves. But it would seem that Mando had so much more in mind when he told you to come down here, and it’s anything beyond what you could have ever dreamed of. You’ve imagined this situation before, thought about what it might be like to know Mando this way, but to have it happen…

The beskar clangs softly as Mando lays it down, the sound letting you know that he’s somewhere off to your right. You’re sure he’s having no trouble seeing in the dark, given how many settings there on in his visor, but you can’t see a fucking thing. Not him, not his discarded armor, not even your own hand in front of you face. Under any other circumstance, you’d be afraid of the dark, but not now. No, now you simply tremble with anxiety, naked skin prickling with chills as you wait for Mando to undress himself. He stripped you first, of course, when the lights were still on, took his time and peeled your clothes off of you almost with reverence. You wish you could do the same to him, but something about that would be wrong you think— it would be crossing a line.

“Are you sure this is allowed?” you ask, almost whispering. The baby’s upstairs in the cockpit, dead to the world and tucked safely in his pram, and yet you still feel like you’re being too loud. Hyperspace is always so quiet, and the silence sets your teeth on edge even after all this time.

“Can you see me?” Mando asks, voice still filtered and staticky.

“I can’t even see myself,” you counter.

“Then it’s allowed.”

No more words pass between either of you for a moment, the space filled with the sound of clothes rustling. You hear a belt buckle and a zipper, can trace out the sounds of pants being kicked to the floor… Three short, bare footsteps, and then you aren’t alone on your little pallet anymore, Mando presence warm and undeniable close on the other side of the cushions.

“Cyar’ika.”

You aren’t sure if it’s the circumstances, or the fact that Mando speaks to you with a raw, unfiltered voice, but this one word picks at something inside you, gets you hot and needy where it counts. How many people has he laid down with like this? How many of them have heard Mando’s voice, his real voice, if any at all? You don’t know the answer to either of those questions, but you also don’t care, not right now.

“Can I touch you?” you ask softly, mustering all your strength and bravery. Mando doesn’t response, doesn’t so much as let out a breath, and so you jump when you feel his hand on your own. He guides you across the blankets, pulling you in closer, laying your palm on the warm, solid expanse of his forearm. Your fingers curl around it, squeezing the muscle, admiring the way Mando simply feels under your hands. He’s had so much of you— practically your whole body— and yet all you’ve been blessed with until tonight is the warmth of his hands, the feeling of his cock in you and on you. To feel his bare skin like this is strange, the fact that Mando is really and truly human coming into sharp focus as your fingers run along a scar, the hair on his arms…

“You’re handsome,” you declare, awed by feeling of Mando under your palms. He shudders when you lay your hand on the side of his face, the movement almost flinch-like in nature, but you’re quick to soothe his nerves with a gentle stroke of your thumb. You can’t imagine what this is like for Mando, can’t fathom what it must feel like to be touched when you hide yourself from everyone all the time. It’s in this moment that you realize he knows nothing of the sun or the wind, and your heart breaks for him.

“You wouldn’t say that if the lights were on.”

Mando sounds vaguely nervous now himself, voice more subdued than it was before. You have so much you want to say, want to shout out that you love everything about him and his body and your life together, but you that would be too much. No, doing something like that could ruin all of this in one fell swoop, and so you swallow those words down, replacing them with something else instead.

“If I ever get to see you one day,” you tell him, “I know for a fact that I’ll say the same thing. I promise.”

There’s a strange weight in that, a certain trust and understanding that you can’t put your finger on, but the pressure isn’t uncomfortable as it settles in the atmosphere, pressing you and Mando even closer. He pulls you under him without a word, holding you, twining your arms and legs and hands together until you aren’t sure where yours end and his begin. His kisses are tentative and unpracticed, but you feel the passion regardless, sighing as the press of Mando’s mouth tells you all the things he can’t say out loud. You don’t know how you ever got things twisted, aren’t sure how you could have possibly thought that Mando didn’t care for you because these aren’t the kisses and caresses of a man who sees you as little more than something to fuck. No, this is something else entirely, something better than you ever could have hoped for, and the rush of endorphins as your head swimming.

Your entire body arches when Mando begins to crawl down your body, his lips trailing over your neck and chest, your stomach and even the curve of your hip. “Mesh’la,” he says to you, murmuring into the spaces between your fingers. Mando’s paying particular attention to your hands now, kissing them delicately. “Listen to me, please.”

“Yes?” you say, half moaning as he drops your hand in favor of propping your legs open. The anticipation has you dizzy, brain fogged over completely as you wait, as you feel him line up your bodies—

Mando doesn’t say anything, not for several seconds, too distracted by the feel of you to speak. You’re fine with that, already too far gone to care after what, two, three thrusts? You couldn’t keep count if you wanted to, the haze in your brain too thick for any tedious mental activity to penetrate. Still, you try to listen like he asked, try to understand the words coming out of his mouth.

Mando’s voice is strained and low, but you catch everything regardless. “My name is Din,” he says to you, groaning shortly when you wind your fingers in his hair. “You can’t— You can’t say that in front of anyone, only to me and the baby. But that’s my name. I want you to call me by my name.”

“Anything you want, Din,” you say at once, and Maker does that have him swearing. Din does something with your body— opens your legs or lifts up your hips, something— and you see stars, whining brokenly. Not for the first time do you wish you could see his face or the plane of his back as he fucks you, but you have to admit that you’re glad that Din’s blind in all of this as well. You don’t even want to think about what you look like, how ruined and desperate your face must be. The pace is relentless now, and you find yourself struggling to keep up, keening and moaning and taking it until Din’s talking to you again.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, and you don’t understand.

“What?” you ask, breathless yourself. He hasn’t let up once since the two of you began, and even though you haven’t cum once, you already feel like you’re on another plane of existence.

“I’m sorry I never—” Din groans, adjusting his grip on your body. “I’m sorry I’m so bad at all of this shit. Talking and letting go and all the other stuff normal people do. I shouldn’t— You deserve more than that. I’m so sorry, cyar’ika.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” you tell him, holding fast to his shoulders, his arms, anything you can get your hands on. You don’t know how to tell him that all this is more than enough to make up for everything, that there’s hardly anything to make up for as it is.

“Yes, there is,” Din presses, and you know he wants to say more, but you cut him off before he can continue.

“Make me cum and kiss me while you do it,” you say to him, “and we’ll call it even.”

And Din seems more than happy to accept the deal, his fingers on your clit not three seconds after you’re done talking. You cum almost too fast, blindsided by your orgasm despite the fact that it’s been building for what feels like years now. Din’s not far behind you, asking whether or not he can cum inside you, and you tell him no, not this time. You have a long-term implant, but you it hasn’t been looked at by a medic in well over a year. It’s probably fine, but you’d rather be safe than sorry. And anyway, it’s not like the feeling of Din’s cum painting your stomach and chest isn’t incredibly hot, so you’re by no means complaining as you lie there and listen to him jerk himself off, your name falling from his lips.

“Stay here,” Din tells you, speaking gently even as he works to catch his breath. You miss him the second he’s gone, your ears straining to track his movements in the dark. Careful footsteps, the shuffling of blankets, the click of the light in the ‘fresher— you can’t see Din, not from this angle, but the idea that he even trusts you enough to cut a light on at a time like this has your heart pounding. He’s completely exposed in there, helmet still sitting next to his armor across the hull, and you almost close your eyes on reflex as you listen to the water run. But it’s all for nothing because Din tells you to do it anyway, turning off the faucet and stepping out into the hull again after you say that you’ve done as he asked.

The washcloth Din cleans you with is warm, a fact that’s not lost on you as you lie there in the semi-darkness. He’s quiet, but the delicate, precise nature of Din’s work speaks volumes. You want to ask him if this is something he does for everyone he sleeps with, but you keep your mouth shut, thinking a question like that might ruin the mood. He goes away from you again once your stomach’s clean, cutting off the light in the ‘fresher and discarding the rag all while you keep your eyes closed. It’s not until Din’s back in bed beside you that you dare to so much as crack them open, afraid you might glimpse too much if you move any sooner.

“Thank you,” you murmur. You’re not sure if you’re thanking Din for the sex or for cleaning you up, but it’s probably a bit of both.

“You’re welcome, cyar’ika,” he replies, pulling you in close. “Are you tired?”

You don’t speak for a moment, thinking of how hard it is to keep your eyes open now, how your thighs ache and your body yearns for rest. “Yeah.”

“Sleep, then,” Din tells you, and you almost feel pathetic for clinging to him like a child. Almost.

“Will you be here when I wake up?”

You aren’t sure why you’re asking— it’s not like Din has anywhere else to go— but his answer is important to you regardless.

“Right here, mesh’la,” he tells you, sounding tired now himself. “I promise.”

[fukurodaze]

tryhard

pairing: suna rintarou x fem!reader genre: flangst wc: 3.2k warnings: cursing!!, uncomfy vibes, it’s the ‘good friend but shitty boyfriend’ type beat synopsis: inarizaki high’s second year trip to kyoto is infamous for its many rendezvous. you just happen to want to follow the trend.

special thanks to kei @keistays​ for beta reading! ily <3

LISTEN TO: gimme love - joji; cool girl - dodie; bags - clairo

“hey.” your hands are shoved in your coat pockets, your boots hitting against the asphalt as a small puff of smoke escapes your mouth. you meet him at the back entrance of the inn. 

he looks up from his phone. “oh, hey. let’s go.”

his shoulders are lax, but his feet tell you otherwise. he scurries along the street, then stops to wait for your slower footsteps. the stoplight is green, but he doesn’t mind waiting for you.

you don’t say anything as he looks at you with tired eyes, a light red across his cheeks. you wish it wasn’t so cold - maybe then you’d know if it was you who had that effect on him.

the light is red now, and you feel your heart pound in your chest as you stand beside him, eyes flickering every now and then to check his blank face. 

“where are we going again?” you inhale a bit of the cold air, nuzzling your face into the thick scarf around your neck. 

“kamo river.” 

“can we walk along gion too?”

suna shrugs. he tells you, “sure. whatever you want.”

the cars are less at night. only the bright green-yellow-red of traffic lights and the faraway warm glow of street lamps stay behind. kyoto’s beautiful, you think. you wish you could hang around for hours here with suna without a care for anyone else.

as soon as you two cross the first road, he lets out a sigh of relief. you then see him chuckle, almost silently. the sight of it makes you smile.

“are you hungry?” he asks.

“we can get snacks, maybe.” you’re caught off-guard at his sudden change of demeanour. or maybe you just don’t know him enough yet.

you’ve had so many questions about this boy for so long, and now that you’re here in kyoto with him - when you’re not allowed to be out, nonetheless - you’re not sure where you stand with him. 

you were introduced to suna rintarou as osamu’s friend and the notorious middle blocker of the school volleyball team. you’re friends with the girls on the cheer squad - the same ones who would always teeter between the lines of friendship and romance with some of the boys on the school's sports teams. you only know the middle blocker by association. your interactions were limited to random glances as you brought your math paper down the room and the rare hello’s when you’d pass by his desk in the morning. 

there was also the one time when the volleyball club planned a birthday surprise for suna and just had to assign you the role of the “distraction” because you weren’t in any “important clubs.” firstly, ouch, and second, why you?

yet it seemed like suna didn’t have a problem as you awkwardly approached him on the morning of his seventeenth birthday, seeing as osamu had weirdly been absent on his best friend’s birthday. 

suna talked to you like a friend, and though he seemed uninterested in you at first, you made sure to spare him the purple chuupets from the canteen, telling him that you’d rather have the white ones instead.

you didn’t really think it was a coincidence when he left you three white chuupets on your desk on valentines day. so when you texted him about it, he gladly told you they were from him. since then, there always seemed to be an elephant that entered the room whenever you were with him.

it didn’t bother you at first, but as text conversations run late and a fluttering feeling in your chest arose, there’s a question that repeats itself in your head.

you heard it the most when he texted you tonight, telling you he couldn’t sleep, and judging from the way you had stayed up until the crack of dawn texting him on multiple occasions, it only felt right for him to ask you. you told him to meet you outside, discreetly, at half past midnight, when the teachers had stopped patrolling.

suna rintarou only texts you when nobody else is awake. suna rintarou only smiles at you after the first crosswalk, when you’re further away from the inn. 

but suna rintarou also follows your every word with a question. suna rintarou also gave you, only you, something for valentine’s.

the question still stands: what are we?

the convenience store is no different to any of the ones back in hyogo. bright saturated colours and white fluorescent lights make you squirm in your almost sleepy daze. but your heart beats so fast and your skin is so cold that you’ve convinced yourself that sleep is not an option. 

suna’s arm brushes yours as you two walk through the aisles, and he reaches for the warm drinks.

“we’re going to be walking some distance to the gion. better not have you fall asleep.”

you pick out a pack of chips from the shelf, and you raise your eyebrows at him, silently asking him if he wanted any. he nods, and you take four.

suna offers to carry the shopping bags as you two begin your little adventure through the city, wary of the closed shops and dark alleyways but enamoured by the old town nonetheless. you’re not surprised to be the one leading the conversation, seeing as he had always been the one to listen. but you notice how he hums with every interjection, how he laughs with every sarcastic remark, and how he makes sure to look at you whenever you tell him something about yourself that he didn’t know before. 

when he speaks, there’s always a quiet attentiveness to him, suddenly so interested in the most useless topics and rambles you would otherwise think he’d dismiss. you notice how he tries to prolong any and all dialogue, like silence was to be untouched. you like it.

“hey, y/n,” the two of you stop and what seems to be the umpteenth red light, the area lined with closed shops and a late market just around the corner. 

he turns to you, and you look at him “yeah?”

he hands you a can of coffee. you take it, confused, and he tells you, “it’s warm. could you just hold it for now?”

a shy smile creeps onto your face, and you nod slowly. he’s sweet, isn’t he?

you watch as puffs of cold air run out of his mouth, his voice low and mellow. when you think about it, you don’t really know him. you don’t know what he likes, you don’t know how he feels, you don’t know what makes him laugh or cry.

but you want to know. you want to know everything about him.

yet, there’s doubt tugging at your heartstrings that tells you he won’t let you. (you ignore it.)

"how was your trip?” suna asks.

‘you are my trip,’ you want to tell him, having secretly anticipated his asking you out. inarizaki’s second-year class trip to kyoto was infamous for its midnight rendezvous, where people would confess and go on dates in the freedom of an ancient city before the pressure of exams in the third year would temporarily keep everyone’s love lives on hold - at least that’s what you’ve heard. though you had told yourself they were only rumours, you can’t help but grin to yourself at the idea of a late night adventure with suna. 

now, as you look down at the little can of coffee in your hands, you find that they were never just rumours.

“my group went to so many shrines...” you say, “at some point it just became the same thing over and over again, and the souvenirs just had to get more and more expensive. it was pretty, though.”

suna exhales through his nose, “all my group did was eat.”

you chuckle, “that’s to be expected when you’re with miya osamu.”

“i got good pictures, though.”

“oh? can i see?” 

suna stops to shuffle his phone out of his coat pocket and hands it to you. he unlocks it in your hand, and you tell yourself to keep quiet at the brush of his large hands around yours. 

it’s between your shock and his photos that you’re given a glimpse of the rest of his phone before you’re scrolling through a gallery of photos. for a second, you’re close to complimenting him on their beauty - you take it back when you click on the first one you see.

“suna, these are all blurry.” you deadpan jokingly.

“wasn’t my fault we were running all the time.”

you giggle, “why were you running?”

“for some reason class two and class one have overlapping routes, so the twins met.”

you nod in acknowledgement, “they don’t ever stop, do they.”

you click away from the pictures app and instead go onto the camera. he’s off talking about something funny that happened today, and as you laugh along with him, you snap a few (many) low quality pictures of you both from below, and then a video, just barely tilting the phone so that the underside of his head is visible in frame. you hope he’ll see them later - maybe even keep them in his gallery, you know, for keepsake. 

you hand his phone back to him, “here.”

he sees your little grin and questions it, but he pockets his phone and continues speaking.

you start to wonder if you’re dreaming when he holds your hand.

the air is colder when you two are seated along the kamo river.

“do you think we’ll get caught sneaking out?” suna says. you reckon it’s the first time you’ve seen him talk so much and so enthusiastically all at once. 

you shrug, snickering, “i think we already have. they just don’t care because everyone goes out anyways.”

“nights of romantic rendezvous, they say.” he turns his head to you, a ghost of a smirk evident on his lips.

though you give a playful push to his shoulder, you scoot even closer.

“doesn’t that make us one of them?” you cringe at the question. you find your body turning to him, and it seems like he’s doing the same.

are we going too fast?

you don’t miss his mouth parting and his eyes staring at your lips. you can hear him breathe - he’s so close. 

you hesitate a little; a lot. you succumb to small looks over his shoulder and quick glances back at the water until your mind starts to wander off into uncertainties and questions you don’t even know how to answer - because you can’t. you ponder why you’ve never really heard him laugh before tonight; if he’s keeping close to you because he wants your warmth or just simply hates the cold; why you find yourself second-guessing the moment you’ve wanted to happen since valentine’s day.

although your head is loud, your surroundings are quiet. then it becomes a matter of head and heart.

so you listen to your heart. 

you want to kiss him, and that is what you know. the hunches and hesitations in your head aren’t concrete - at least not yet.

slowly, little by little, you let his lips collide with yours, closing the space in between. it’s cold and dry, yet the feeling is enough to enshroud you in a blanket of warmth. it’s short, as you expected, like a prolonged peck. you still feel a tingling sensation on your lips afterwards.

it’s then, for a fleeting moment, that you start to think that maybe you could find comfort in this fluttering feeling.

“have you seen anyone else going out?” suna asks like nothing happened.

you shake your head, “mina-chan snuck out with ayane-chan, and i think sakuragi-san with hirai-san... but that’s all i know.”

suna’s eyes widen at the mention of your friend, ayane. not that he cares about her, of course. he clears his throat.

“ayane? dating mina?”

“all the girls think they’re dating, but i guess it seems like a friendship for others.”

you inhale the cold air, and you feel yourself starting to regret the mention of her name. “i know ayane’s been out for a while. i’m glad that everyone’s been so accepting, too. she seems so lively all the time.”

suna’s eyes bottom into a sullen gaze, “yeah, ayane. i’m happy for her too.”

you snicker, “could’ve said that with more enthusiasm, no?”

suna shrugs, “we’re- yeah.”

perhaps he does care about her.

but suna stops himself as his eyes meet yours, “anyways, i bet sakuragi and hirai just wanna find a love hotel.”

you reply with a laugh.

“and i think akagi’s getting close to someone lately.”

you take a sip of your coffee, “really?”

“yeah,” suna zips up his coat tightly, “shit, it’s cold...”

you agree with him. 

despite suna’s conscious efforts, conversation dies out when it’s meant to die. whether it be the tens of questions swimming in your head, the hundreds of i-told-you-sos that play in your mind, or the biting wind, you know neither of you can’t stall anymore. 

it’s so pathetic, you think. you just kissed this boy and now you don’t know if it’s the coffee or his lips because the truth leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

“suna, what are we?”

he doesn’t answer. he doesn’t even do so much as to react to your words, like if he prayed your words away, you never said them. his eyes bear holes into the ground, skimming through a mental encyclopaedia of answers he could form without hurting your feelings.

it’s then that the distance between you and him feels as wide as the river. it’s two in the morning, and you find yourself hugging your own legs instead of hugging him.

it feels like betrayal, almost.

not that he betrayed you; more like you betrayed yourself. in truth, you were tired of chuupets, always fighting your sleepiness when he texted you late at night, willing to put up with his shit talk behind everyone else’s backs. 

yet you still worried that your legs wouldn’t look just right to him in the jeans you wore tonight.

you take a bag of chips from the shopping bag with snacks you two had splurged on earlier. it makes a quick pop as you open it, and suna hears a crunching sound beside him, away from his peripheral vision.

he’s frozen when you reach the bag out to him, offering him a chip. you’re relaxed, he thinks, even after asking that. it’s okay, he tells himself.

suna still shakes his head in decline and takes another sip from his convenience store coffee. he braces himself, because it’s only now that he’s realised the mess he’s put himself into.

“we’re-” he pauses.

you take another chip in your mouth, savouring its saltiness as you inwardly flinch at his hesitation. 

suna takes a deep breath, “i mean, not everyone who goes out is-”

you see it now; you should’ve listened to your head.

“it’s ayane, isn’t it?” you brush it off. all of it.

he’s unmoving, not daring to even blink. but he opens his mouth to speak.

“i wanted it to be you.”

you want to laugh at him. at least he didn’t deny any of it.

“but it’s not, right?” you shake your head, bitter chuckles falling from your mouth, “and you have no choice because she likes girls, huh.”

“i’m sorry. i fucked up.”

you know you can’t cry, but you sure as hell would like to. maybe then he’d really feel bad about it, after knowing so well even back when he’d given you sweets on valentine’s that you were just a compromise. 

“yeah, you did,” you pick at the grass around your soles, “what was even more fucked up is that i still thought i had a chance.”

“i still care about you.”

you exhale, hating the words that fall from his mouth. “of course you do! i’m your friend, osamu’s friend, ayane’s friend.”

you hate that you can’t hate him. you hate that you can’t hate how you genuinely get along with him, how his laughter and words hold no lies, how he’s honest with you. but that doesn’t change the way you hate how he’s led you on - and how you let him.

“is that why you were so smiley and eager tonight? because you were trying so hard to ‘win me over’ so you could forget about her?”

suna sighs. he needs to say something, he tells himself, because it’s only starting to sink in that he might even lose you as a friend. he kissed you, damn it, and held your hand, and asked you out on what everyone calls a date.

what a ‘friend’, huh?

“i’m so sorry.”

you wish he could at least say more. you feel a slash of anger, and though it stops quickly, you make a jab at him.

“you’re too lazy with your words. too lazy with your feelings.”

silence.

“i wanted to be wrong, but,” you shrug, “turns out you have a few things to work out yourself.”

his shoulders fall even lower, “i’ll stay out of your sight. i’m sorry.”

you laugh again, bitterly. your feet bring themselves to stand, and you decide to take the shopping bag and hug it. you think it’d look funny from afar, but you know it’s only to fill the hollow feeling in your chest and the burning embarrassment on your cheeks.

you look back at him, and his eyes are full of worry. they’re so wide that you almost feel flattered at his display of regret. you know he regrets it. you know osamu’s going to beat him up for it. you know the cheerleaders will talk about it. but you’ve forced all your focus on the bags of chips you’re holding and the feeling of a soft mattress back at the inn. the plan to gion is long forgotten.

suna stands up immediately, shoving his hands into his coat pockets, just trailing behind as you make no effort to slow down. you only speed up, briskly walking through the streets you remember from tonight.

you even cross the road on different green lights. 

you don’t wait for him. not anymore. 

the inn is a fresh breath of heated air, the reception dark and the stairs creaky. you tiptoe every inch of the way, not once looking back. 

eventually, when you reach your room, you slide the door open, seeing nothing but your friend’s nightlight. you take care to place the bag of snacks in a corner of the room, hidden yet still available for any of your roommates to see. you’re quick to shed your coat and change into the gym clothes everyone’s been wearing since dinner, sliding into your futon and forcing your eyes closed like you hadn’t just drank an entire can of coffee. 

you don’t cry, you don’t sob, you simply lay there. now you want to laugh at yourself, for knowing that something definitely was wrong, but having too big of a hopeful pride to even consider it.

your hands crinkle the thick futon and bring it up to your neck as you curl yourself up. warm. not electric nor addictive, just comfortable. 

you wanted electric.

you wanted to take back all your words and ignore everything because he kissed you and held your hand and waited for you at the crosswalk, only for you to be some replacement for someone he can’t be with. it makes you wonder if he thought of her when he kissed you. 

you hear the creaking of the wood boards and two voices. you know that it’s other people returning from their own little kyoto dates. their voices are high and squeaky and one of them had whispered something that you could hear three rooms away. 

it stings even more. too bad.

“fucking embarrassing,” you mutter under your breath, turning in your futon, “so fucking embarrassing.”

you’ll tell osamu that you’ll be hanging out with the kids in class 3 for a while. you’ll ask your friends to save a seat for you on the train tomorrow. you’ll make sure to give away the snacks to everyone later. it’ll be a hassle, but you’ll do what you have to do.

at least you can let yourself sleep now.

[teddy06writes]

sapnap x reader where the readers first language is greek and they confess to him in greek without knowing he speaks it too ? i love ur writing btw !! :)

sapnap x reader

first of all, this is such a cute idea and I love it, second of all, I DO NOT KNOW GREEK, so apologize in advance for anything google translate gets wrong

trigger warnings: some swearing, drinking

(y/n/n)- your nickname

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

You’d first seen him from across the quad, whilst searching for a distraction from the boring chattering of your mother on the phone, the dirty blonde man also lost in conversation with the brunette who’d walked beside him.

You continued to watched them on their path through the mess of kids on benches or even the ground, tracing his familiarity to one of your lectures on software design.

What surprised you most, was when he looked over, and smiled at you, he’d caught you in the act of staring at him, and smiled.

You smiled back, not to be impolite, and were pulled back to reality by your mothers voice in your ear, “(y/n), είσαι εκεί? ή έχει πετάξει το κεφάλι σου στα σύννεφα;” (Are you there? Or has your head flown off in the clouds?)

“Είμαι εδώ μαμά.” (I’m here mama) you sighed.

~~

The next time you saw him was at a party some frat house on the other side of campus was throwing.

You hadn’t planned on going, seeing as you barley knew the boys in the frat, and your friends, well, at this college anyway, were nonexistent, but hey, free booze.

So that's how you found yourself, leaning against the living room wall, cup in hand, watching the beer pong game happening in the center of the room.

Taking another sip of your drink you did a mental walk of the room, making mental note of the people you knew, and then there he was again, definitely less than sober, calling dibs on playing the loser of the game.

You watched, amused as the game ended, and he quickly took the place of the loser, taunting the other guy loudly.

Three games (and several beers) later he was still winning, loudly yelling that he could beat anyone at the party.

Unable to help yourself you stepped forward, “I’ll have a go then.”

He looked you up and down proclaiming, “Easy win.”

You smirked, moving up to the table.

The game began, and his confidence quickly wore down, as all your shots either landed, or came very close.

The last few were neck and neck, but soon it was down to three left on your side, and only one left on his.  

Desperately, his first shot got one of yours and you quickly chugged it down, still smirking at him.

You raised an eyebrow as he lined up his next shot, and his eyes flicked to yours just long enough to cause him to miss.

You bit back a grin, easily sinking the last shot, “I’ve bested the beast.”

The people who had been spectating cheered, and the brunette who you’d seen with him before started to laugh his ass off, “They fucking got you Nick!”

“Yeah, I’m aware.” He sounded all too sober for someone who should’ve been that drunk.

You chuckled, turning and disappearing into the crowd.

A half hour later you were half way out the door, not bothering to pull on your jacket, the relative amount of dinking you had done still making your cheeks feel warm.

“Wait! Wait!” He- Nick, you reminded yourself, came half stumbling down the road, “I wanted to say good game.”

“That was half an hour ago.” You laughed.

“Still- i- sorry, what is your name?”

“(y/n), I’m in your intro to software design.”

“I’ve never seen you in there before,” He looked confused, “Which group do you sit with?”

“I don’t really have friends.” You shrugged.

Nick frowned, quickly holding out his hand for a shake, “Hi, I’m Nick, I’m your friend now.”

You looked at his outstretched hand confused, “Yeah o-kay. Your drunk, I’m tipsy and if I’m lucky you won’t remember this in the morning. I don’t really do friends here.”

He nodded as if paying attention, but then said, “You have an accent.”

You nodded, “Yup, I’m leaving now.”

~~

You didn’t see him again after that, for nearly three weeks, and you were beginning to think he really had forgotten, that is, until he approached out out side of the lecture hall, “Hey!”

“Yeah?”

“(y/n) right? Your the one who beat me at beer pong. And then walked away when I asked about your accent.”

You rolled your eyes, “You didn’t ask you literally just stated I had an accent.”

“Well I’m not wrong! I meant to ask why- well not why- just, are you an exchange student or?”

You adjusted your laptop bag on your shoulder, “This isn’t high school. We don’t have exchange students.”

“Well, are you studying abroad then?”

“I’m an American. I can’t study abroad in my own country.”

He looked slightly confused, “Sorry- it’s just with your accent I assumed.”

“I wasn’t born here if that helps.” You turned and started away, pulling out your phone as it started to ring, “Ναι μαμά; Έχω μαθήματα σύντομα, τι συμβαίνει;” (Yes mama? I have class soon, what's wrong?)

~~

“Why are you always alone all the time?”

You groaned, looking up from the firewall system assignment you’d been testing on your tablet, to see Nick, “I’m working.”

“And I’m asking a question,” He sat down at the otherwise empty table, “Why are you always alone?”

“I told you, I don’t have friends here.” You ran the breaker code again, seeing if it could illuminate any unseen holes.

“You were at the party, surely you knew someone there, otherwise you wouldn’t have gone.”

“σκατά“ You muttered, a new problem in the chain arising, “It was an open house party, I heard about it from people I know.” (shit)

Nick frowned, “Oh, thats-”

“Sad, tragic, depressing? Yeah I’m aware.” You sighed.

You saved the project, shutting off your tablet and looking around the empty cafeteria, “Isn’t it like, wicked late? Why are you here?”

“Why’re you?” he countered.

“World’s asleep.” You muttered, packing up the rest of your stuff, “Why do you keep making such an effort to talk to me?”

“Cause we’re friends remember? Shook on it.”

“I never shook your hand.” You grumbled, standing up.

~~

“You know that I’m right!” Nick exclaimed.

“Maybe! But I don’t want to admit it!”

Over the course of a few month Nick had crawled, kicked and wormed his way into your life, all but forcing you to become his friend, and surprisingly, you didn’t mind all that much.

Now you were sitting out on the roof of your dorm, looking up at the night sky.

“I swear your fucking nocturnal dude! Like an owl! And I willingly give up my sleep to hang out with you!”

You hesitated, feeling a sudden jolt of a realization, and as suddenly as a lighting strike, you were falling in love.

You fumbled to recover, “Well you’re the one who went out of your way to become my friend.”

“I mean, too be fair I was drunk.”

“But still went out of your way to be my friend once you were sober.” You pointed out.

“Hey, drunk me makes good decisions sometimes.” He laughed, looking over at you.

You let out a sigh, watching the white wisps of your breath drift up in the sky, “That’s the thing I’ve never got over.”

“What? Drunk me making interesting decisions?”

“The cold,” You said simply, “I’ve lived here half my life, but the cold still doesn’t make sense to me.”

He laughed, “This is Texas, it’s not nearly as cold as it gets up north. Snow’s much more common for now, up there.”

“I’ve never seen snow. Mama doesn’t like it much,” You laughed, “The first time I really heard about it it sounded so strange.”

Nick smiled, “Lets go up north during winter break then. I know people up there, we can go do winter tourist things.”  

“Winter tourist things?”

“Yeah,” He chuckled, “Go ice skating, look at lights, sleigh rides, all that.”

You laughed, “Winter Tourist things.”

~~

A month and a half had passed, your sudden change in feelings toward your only friend on campus had not.

If anything they had just gotten worse, and now, the thing you still couldn’t wrap your head around, you were tossing your suitcase into the back of his car, about to head on your way to the airport, because yes, the Winter Tourist thing stuck.

“Dude, I’m so excited! This is gonna be epic!”

You nodded, “You know, thinking about it, it actually is possible I’ve seen snow, like when I was little. It just never lasted long.”

Nick scrunched up his nose, “Well it’s too late to duck out now!”

“I never said I was ducking out.” You laughed.

~~

The trip had gone pretty well, the snow in the northeast was certainly different than that of Macedonia, but you didn’t think it was all Nick had said it would be.

Still you had enjoyed wandering around the city looking at Christmas lights, attempting to ice skate, and just enjoying each others company.

It seemed like every minute you spent with Nick, you teetered closer to the edge, knowing that by the end of this trip you’d be head over heels for him, if you weren’t already now.

Now you were quietly sitting on the balcony of your hotel room, hands cradled around the warm cup of hot chocolate you’d made, looking out into the swirling darkness above the city.

“You know your gonna freeze if you stay out here.” Nick moved through the door and sat beside you, draping part of a blanket around your shoulders.

“I know.” You sighed.

He looked at you, concerned, “What’s wrong?”

“Νομίζω ότι ερωτεύομαι,” You murmured, a quiet confession, more so to yourself than to him, “και αυτό με τρομάζει.”  (I think I’m falling in love with you... and that terrifies me)

You started to sigh as he looked confused, though only for a moment, because “Τι είναι τόσο τρομακτικό για την αγάπη;” He asked softly. (What’s so scary about love?)

You froze, almost dropping your cup, “ε-ε-ε, εσύ- μιλάς ελληνικά;” (uh- y- uh, you-  you speak Greek?)

“λίγο,” He smiled, “Είσαι ερωτευμένος μαζί μου;“ (A bit... you’re in love with me?)

“λίγο.” (A bit), you breathed, trying to ignore the small space between you seemingly shrink.

“Νομίζω ότι είμαι λίγο ερωτευμένος και εσένα.” He chuckled. (I think I'm a bit in love with you too)

Your breath hitched, and your quickly bridged the small gap between you to kiss him, smiling into it a bit as he kissed back.

“How long?” He asked softly when you pulled apart.

“When you first brought up the trip. You said that you were willing to lose sleep to hang out with me,” You chuckled nervously, “You?”

“Second week of school, you were on the phone with someone, and you smiled back at me,” Nick grinned, “I saw you from across the quad and knew.”

[thebadbatch]

Hii, can I request Crosshair being send by the empire to delay a rebel politician reader with the excuse of protecting her, but it happens to be a mission longer than expected and they start bonding and such? Thank you

A /N: l hope this is what you were looking for! I really liked writing this one so it's longer than the other oneshots I've written because I got carried away!

Imperial!Crosshair x Fem!RebelSenate

Plot: The empire have taken over the planet you try to protect and you've been assigned an imperial guard to protect you from the Bounty Hunter's who want you dead or for their own use. Crosshair ends up being your guard and connections blossom throughout the ongoing mission.

Warnings: Detailed description of Violence and a light mention of blood.

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Delay

"Why on Stars would you think I'd accept somebody from the Empire to protect me?" You shouted, anger clearly coating your voice as you spoke to your helpers. One sighed and stood forward, gently walking with you through the large and rather extravagant hallways of the place you were assigned to stay. "Don't you understand I'm a rebel? I speak for peace." Your helper nodded lightly, doing her best to remain professional.

"The planet you speak for is under the Empire now, my lady." She paused as you both continued to walk where you'd be greeted with the being who said they'd have to protect you. Things didn't feel right though, it was all so sudden but you had no choice but to leave your questions unanswered otherwise the Empire would silence you once and for all. "Please, allow them to give you their protection - just until things calm down." Nodding slightly in agreement you couldn't help but sigh as imperial ships came into view, storm troopers littering the streets whilst an admiral came to greet you whilst a darker clothed storm trooper stood behind him.

"Ah, senator y/n - I'm glad to hear the news that you've accepted our protection from bounty hunters set to kill you." Rolling your eyes, you soon narrowed your gaze onto him.

"Well it's not like I had much of a choice, is it?" Your words were coated in venom which only made the admiral laugh lightly  sending wary shivers down your spine. You had spent years giving people hope, but now you were working alongside the very thing you swore to destroy.

"I'm sure time with your newly assigned guard will change your view of things and you'll give out a good word for the Empire." The trooper stepped forward and removed his helmet to place it under his arm. His hair was a light silver, an interesting mark lay over his eye which only left you with burning questions. "This trooper is named Crosshair, he's the current leader of our newly formed Elite squad. This building will be on complete lockdown until the bounty hunters are eliminated, our trooper will be sure to defend you with his life."

"Yes sir." Crosshair confirmed, his voice was filled with mystery and confidence which just made you shiver.

"I appreciate your time and service, admiral." You had to practically bite your tongue to muster out those words. There was no other choice but to go along with it until there was some sort of reliable plan to get out of here. 

Turning your attention to Crosshair you thought the day through, "Come then, i'll show you around." He nodded and began to trail after you, a serious expression glued to his face. Showing him each individual area on the floor you were assigned to did take some time, but it was worth the protection and the longer this lasted the longer you could take to think up a plan to leave. "This is the final room, the Sleeping quarters. There are separate beds so I do hope you're not too fussed on sharing." He took a light breath in as he looked around, walking to the empty bed which would be his.

"That's not an issue." Sitting on your own bed, you watched as he did the same on his. The beds were opposite one another which gave him the best view to ensure you were safe at any given time.

"Well since we shall be spending a week or so cooped up together I thought that we could get to know one another." You attempted a smile towards him, one in which he didn't hesitate on not returning. Everybody from the Empire were so miserable and they were treated so horribly so you understood. "My name's y/n and I'm a politician reader on behalf of the rebels, I believe in hope and peace and know that it shall be achieved one day." A moment or so went by with no response from him, "How about you?" He shifted slightly against the blankets, moving his firepuncher rifle into his hands in a swift moment.

"I'm Crosshair, a sniper and currently your guard. I work alongside the Empire because they did not abandon me, they took me in." Tilting your head to the side slightly, you gave him a questioning gaze. 

"Who abandoned you?" He gave out a hollow chuckle, wiping a spec of dust that had rested against his rifle. 

"Nobody of your concern." 

"You know that there are better places than the Empire? People who will view you as family and not an irrelevant number they can just replace." His eyes narrowed at you as he spoke.

"I'm sick of playing 'families', I'm happy where I am." You soon decided to drop the conversation, not fully willing to make the man who was supposed to protect your life hate you. Allowing silence to fill the room once again, you soon felt comfortable with it. This would only last a few weeks at most, you could get through it.

A week had passed since Crosshair was assigned as your guard and no attempt on your life had been made yet which you found rather surprising. Time had dragged by pretty surprisingly and you couldn't help but start talking outloud to Crosshair who didn't really respond but you knew he was listening and that's all you needed.

"... And that's why I absolutely dislike the dark." His comm soon beeped, and a different voice was heard filling the room for the first time in the week you shared together.

"A breach has occured, keep y/n safe and with you. We cannot risk her life being taken when she will be valuable to us." The voice fell silent as Crosshair replied quickly, placing his helmet over his head.

"Sir, yes sir." Standing he grabbed his rifle and turned toward you, "Let's go." He walked out of the room you were both in and this time you were the one trailing behind him anxiety and fear filling your chest rapidly. 

"Where are we going?" You asked, trying not to let your voice shake with fear as his pace grew quicker toward a different room. 

"A more secure room, preferably without windows." A loud shatter from behind you accompanied his words before a hand gripped onto yours pulling you into their chest. Before you could realize what was happening, a blaster was against your head and a hand against your throat which made it difficult to breathe. Crosshair had just as quickly pointed his rifle to the person trying to take your life, tension filling the air alongside your jagged and desperate breaths. "Let the girl go." The person simply laughed and stepped back toward the window which only made Crosshair put pressure against the trigger. 

"What makes you think I'll let her go? She belongs with us - her skills could be vital for my kind." He snarled lightly in response as your breaths turned into light whimpers, your hands trying to pry the person's grip off of your neck.

"C-cross-" You whimpered out, voice filling the room. You couldn't see Crosshairs expression behind his helmet, but at your voice calling his name his face flashed with concern, worry and then anger. He didn't hesitate as he pulled the trigger, hitting the person in the head. The grip was freed from around your neck, red marks being left around your neck as you fell. Shattered glass cut into your hand, blood soon trailing down your skin. Crosshair picked you up all whilst activating his comm system.

"The threat has been neutralized." He took a soft breath before carrying you to the room you both shared, sitting you softly on your bed. "Requesting a clean up on the third floor." He ended the communication as he reached for the medkit in one of the draws, crouching before you and tending to your hand. 

"Thank you..." You mumbled, watching him tend to your hand so carefully made your heart swell - it was a sweet action but something you assumed he was hired to do.

"I'm just following orders." He responded as he finished clearing your hand up - his fingertips moving across the red marks upon your skin. You watched his face turn into anger as he viewed the marks, applying some bacta to soothe the sting. "I won't let them touch you again." In all honesty, you felt terrified - everything suddenly felt so real and who knew how many more times an attempt would be taken on your life? Exhaling a shaky breath, you nodded at his words and you finally allowed him all of your trust. His eyes seemed gentle as he gazed at you, only kindness filling them as he stood. "I suggest you get some rest now, y/n - I'll keep watch over you." He pulled the blankets back for you before he moved to his own bed sitting on the edge gripping his rifle as his eyes scanned outside the window. After climbing into bed you felt the previous shock begin to calm down, the absence of the adrenaline leaving you feeling empty and cold along with the realization that your life was on the line kicking in.

"Crosshair?" You gently called his name, "Can you stay a little closer?" Your question felt out of character for you, but things were just so terrifying and uncertain that you were desperate for some comfort - especially from the man who had just saved your life. He didn't respond so you assumed he just ignored your question rather than saying no. Your doubts soon left though as you felt a weight beside you on your bed, Crosshair sitting beside your tired self. "Thank you." You whispered, the room falling into a comfortable silence as his hand rested against your leg covered by the blanket. Sleep was quick to overtake you, all of your previous worry seemingly melting away at his touch. With him beside you, the week ahead would be bearable for sure.

Plans had changed at the news of more bounty hunters being assigned to take you out or with them, now Crosshair was staying for longer until the Empire had things under control. A month had passed since the attempt on your life and you had both grown closer than ever. During your rants he would always respond willingly and help out with things whenever he could for you, in fact you both managed to become close with one another. 

"So," You hummed as he turned his attention toward you, "when do you think they'll let you go back?" He shrugged lightly as he walked closer to you, helmet under his arm.

"Soon." Those words seemed to shatter your heart into literal pieces. "But I have no intention of leaving."  A smile crept onto your lips as you moved closer toward him, eyes lit up like a city at night. Your hands held his own as thoughts raced around your head at an incredible speed,

"Why don't I make you my permanent guard? I'm sure the Empire will be overjoyed that I've taken a liking to their services…" You didn't miss the smirk that placed itself onto his lips, his hands softly squeezing your own. Before he could speak, his comm system lit up again.

"Trooper, are you prepared to move out? We have another mission assigned." Your eyes met him in a gentle gaze praying to the stars that he'd stay alongside you.

"Actually, there's been a delay- a proposition has been made which I'm sure will benefit the Empire." The comm fell silent as You moved closer into his arms before the communication device lit up in confirmation,

"Understood. Take your time." With that, you held his face and met your lips with hisin a gentle get loving kiss. Pulling away you couldn't help but sheepishly grin at him - a rare smile of his falling back onto his face which you adored.

"You'll stay with me?" You asked, voice beyond helpful as he moved closer to you.

"I'll stay - I don't want to leave you like they left me." Nodding softly, you offered him a smaller smile.

"I won't ever leave you Cross like they did, I love you." His lips met yours once again before you both came up with a detailed plan on keeping him with you whilst still getting your hope filled messages out there. You were going to take down the Empire one way or another, but now you had Crosshair with you which made everything better. It was you two against the galaxy for years to come.

"I love you too."

[hopelesshawks]

HEY SEXY BESTIE DO GOOD ON THE ASSIGNMENT

N E WAYZ heres the start of your precious Keigo spam for self care

Keigo HAS to be cuddling the reader in order to fall asleep otherwise he struggles with falling asleep and staying asleep. And the reader accidentally rolls out of his arms or gets up or something and he wakes up and is all soft and sleepy and lowkey flirty and just wants his baby back in his arms so they can sleep together

YES THANK YOU!! I survived my assignments last night and classes today 🥲 so now my reward is soft Keigo hours on main 🥰 I’m gonna try to get to as many of the asks tonight as I can and I’ll tag them all “soft kei self care” for ease of navigation for anyone who also needs some soft birdboi rn

Keigo is bad at sleeping. He has been for awhile now. Between the hyper vigilance that comes naturally from being a pro hero for a substantial period of time and the guilt that nags at him whenever he isn’t working, falling and staying asleep just doesn’t come easily to him anymore. Or at least it didn’t until he met you. He remembers the first time he realized you were his own personal sleep aid. He’d come over to your place after a long patrol starting at 3am and ending at 3pm. He was weary from head to toe but had zero faith he’d be able to fall asleep so instead you had offered cuddles and Netflix as a no energy way to pass the time instead. He joined you on the couch, pulling you into his arms as you put a movie he only vaguely recognized on the tv. Within moments his eyelids started growing heavy, within minutes he had fallen asleep entirely. He hadn’t woken up for almost five hours until you’d gotten up to order food for you both.

Ever since he spends every night he can with you, his own personal brand of melatonin and the only way he can guarantee himself a full night’s rest. That night the two of you follow your usual nightly routine. You finish up your work for the day, a couple of Hawks’ feathers delivering a mug of your favorite tea to you as you move from your desk to the bedroom where he’ll already be waiting with open arms. The two of you stay up chatting about the day you’ve had and future plans while you sip your tea until you’ve emptied your mug. Only then do you set it aside and lay down to rest, both of you slipping into a deep sleep within minutes.

Keigo is surprised when his eyes flutter open to a still dark room to find you trying to move out of his arms. “Where are you going Dove? Stay,” he whines, arms tightening around you. As much as you hate to disturb his sleep you must admit sleepy Keigo is one of your favorites. You turn back to him and brush his hair away from his face before pressing a kiss to his nose. “I’ll be right back, I’m just running to the bathroom,” you promise but still he tightens his hold around you. “But ‘m cozy,” he pouts and you can’t help but giggle. “You don’t have to move just let me move birdbrain.” “No. Not allowed.” “Kei.” “(Y/n).” “Baby I promise no more moving after I’m back but I need to go to the bathroom,” you insist and after a serious moment of consideration he finally relents. When you do slide back into bed you’re immediately wrapped back up in his arms, his wings joining as well to make sure you won’t be escaping for a second time that night. “I hope you’re satisfied because that was your one and only break,” he mumbles as he nuzzled against the side of your head and takes a deep breath in so his nose is filled again with your perfect, comforting smell. “Very satisfied,” you chuckle. “Good. I love you little dove.” “I love you too.”