#how do I talk through any of this with him without being a horrible person?

[victorbutnotreally]

Academic Validation - Lee Minho x Male Reader

A/N: i'm back!! heavily inspired by myself. to all the people struggling with their studies, you got this! your grades only define a part of you, a part of you that can be molded however you want.

warnings: thunderstorms, mental breakdown, mentions of dying, unrealistic expectations from parents, min's parents are horrible in this.

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

"You have so much potential, Minho! Where's that little boy who's always eager to learn, huh?? You got an A in maths instead of your usual A*. I can't believe this!!"

"Mom, let me-"

"No!! You're in university, for god's sake! Pull yourself together! Stop hanging out with your friends and you better study, young man-"

"I-"

"Or do you not want to achieve anything? Do you want to be stuck somewhere with part time jobs, barely making a living??"

An A is still a good grade, Mom! he wanted to say, but he didn't dare to. He wanted to scream and shout and defend himself, but he wasn't allowed to. The words were just fading echoes in his ears till the sound of the call ending snapped him back to reality.

His parents see his mistakes, but only that. It wasn't an easy exam, and only one person got an A*. But of course, his parents wouldn't understand that, because he used to get full marks for everything without even studying as a child. And even now, he's mostly relying on his memory and math skills. He doesn't know how to study. Why would you know how to study when you're "gifted"? God, he hated that term. He would beam with pride when he got called that till middle school. Things started going downhill in high school, but he picked it up somehow. Mostly to compete with Mn. And now, in one of the most prestigious universities in the world, he was doing well. Very well, actually. But his parents won't understand. Why would they, when their son is "gifted"?

Sobs wracked his body as he threw his phone onto the bed and slid down against the wall. He wished the wall had arms to hold him, since his parents never did. He wished his wall would come to life, talk to him, kiss his hair and wipe his tears away. He sat with his legs to his chest and his arms on his knees, but that wasn't comforting enough. He curled up into a fetal position on the ground as he sobbed. He didn't have friends. He was always alone growing up, and he was fine, since life wasn't so cruel back then. His comfort was being alone, but he wants to be held right now.

He pulls himself up somehow, going to the bathroom to wash his face. He had an image to maintain. The thunder seemed to rattle the windows and the lightning struck. On any other day, he would've admired thunderstorms, but the sounds and the light overwhelmed him at the moment. He opened the door to his dorm room and walked down the hallway. Mn. The only one who got an A* in the maths test. He wanted Mn. Sure, they wouldn't exactly be termed as 'friends', but he's the closest thing Minho has to one.

Mn heard the knock on his door and wondered who it was at this time of the night. It was 1:03. He went up to the door and and looked through the peephole. Minho? He opened the door, and before he could say anything, Minho threw himself into his arms.

"Min-"

The moment he felt those strong arms wrap around him, Minho lost control. He clung onto Mn like a lifeline, burying his face in the crook of his neck. His sobs echoed in the quiet room, his body shaking from the force of his emotions. And to Mn, the sound of his sobs seemed to pierce him deeper than the lightning. He buried his face into Mn's shirt, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. He's never cried like this before, but something about seeing his calm, collected expression makes the floodgates open. The last time he broke down like this was…well, he didn't remember.

"I-I'm sorry," he chokes out between hiccups, voice muffled against Mn's chest. He's too embarrassed to meet those piercing eyes, but at the same time, he craves his warmth and stability. "Just needed someone…"

He takes a deep breath, trying to regain some composure. When he finally looks up, his dark eyes are puffy and red, and filled with vulnerability rare of him. "Please don't think less of me, Mn."

Mn's expression softened, his hand went up from Minho's back to his face, wiping away his tears.

"Of course not…not for this. Come inside," he says, pulling Minho inside the room once he realized they were still in the doorway. The door clicks shut behind them, loud thunder accompanying the sharp sound.

"What happened, Minho?"

The soft gaze, the gentle tone of someone who's supposed to be his rival, opened the floodgates once more. Years worth of bottled up emotions came out at once as he broke down in his rival's arms. Mn could do nothing but rub his back and hold him close. Minho didn't need anything else. He just wanted to be held. Minho's arms squeezed him tighter as his sobs grew louder. He buried his face in his chest so deep as if he wanted to be lodged in his ribcage, right next to his heart.

"They- they think I'm so smart…I'm not…I'm not smart or anything.."

More sobs.

"I can't do this anymore, Mn, I can't…I'll die at this rate. I just wanna disappear and stop worrying about all this."

"Oh, Minho.." Mn felt a strange protectiveness over the boy nestled so comfortably in his arms. His heart felt warm knowing that Minho came to him out of all people, but at the same time, he felt sad, knowing that Minho didn't really have anyone else.

"What if I don't get a job? What if adulting is harder than I thought? What if…what if I don't graduate?"

The last question was followed by hysterical sobs. If it weren't for the thunderstorm, Mn was sure he would've woken up the whole floor with his cries.

"I-I c-can't do this anymore, Mnie…I can't..p-please.."

"Okay..okay..we'll take a break for a while, yeah?"

"C-Can't…have to..study..I have to-"

"Minho."

Minho looked up from Mn's chest, eyes teary and red.

"How long has it been since you slept?"

"I- I don't know, Mn.." He said Mn's name with such softness, such…vulnerability.

Mn reached to wipe away Minho's tears and reached out to grab some tissues for him.

"Here."

Minho shakily took the tissues, mumbling a small 'thank you' as he wiped his face. He slowly got up, his feet somehow being able to carry his weight now as he went to the bathroom and washed his face. He came out of the bathroom to see Mn making tea.

"Y-You don't have to," Minho said, his voice sore and shaky from all the crying.

"Sit down, Min. Talk to me, okay?"

He obediently sat down, quite unusual for him. But right now, he just wants to hand everything to someone else. And he didn't think he'd be so open with Mn.

"I just..I got an A instead of an A*. I wasn't disappointed with it because it was a super tough exam, but my mom called and said a lot of things. Like I'm wasting my potential. I didn't hear the rest, I was so tired. Don't…pity me. Please."

"I won't. I don't. And you're not wasting your potential, okay?," Mn started, handing Minho a cup of tea. "You're one of the best students here. And one slight drop in your grade doesn't make you stupid. Besides, A is such a good grade."

Minho sips his tea, the warmth of the teacup a comfort to his cold hands. He listened intently to Mn's words, as if memorising them. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up, a small smile finding its way to his lips.

"You're good enough. I'm proud of you."

"You're good enough." The words rang in Minho's head, louder than the thunderstorm outside. He felt safe. He felt like he could admire it again. He sets down the teacup and hugged him again, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder.

"Thank you."

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

taglist:

@forever-atiny

[hecksupremechips]

Honestly though I think it’s really a bad sign when I look at Shin Tsukimi and literally feel like he’s a self insert 😩

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

Hi what do you do if you don’t like someone but they think you’re friends and talk to you like you’re friends and can’t take a hint

[cluescorner]

There's no feeling stranger than knowing that something is bad but liking it anyways. Not in a 'it's so bad it's good' way. Because that implies that it has become good. I'm talking like this thing is just kinda bad in the normal ways things are bad, but i like it anyways.

[mrpenguinpants]

Low Battery Warning - Touch Starved HCs

— If he goes too long without you by his side, he starts to get irritable and too frustrating for anyone to deal with. For the sake of everyone, please remember to recharge your battery before leaving for extended periods of time.

— Tartaglia, Kaveh, Ayato, Alhaitham, and Dottore

[Masterlist]

I JUST WANT TO WRITE WHIPPED MEN OKAY? What do you mean I have to write a part 2 for two different fics??? I'm honestly surprised I managed to finish this. Also, ALHAITHAM NATION REJOICE, YOUR BOY IS HERE AND I CAN FINALLY MAKE A BANNER. I wasn't going to write him (I'm a kaveh stan) but now that he's here...

Tartaglia

While Tartaglia is the most favored to work with compared to the other Harbingers, that's only by a very slim margin. The closest you'll get to death is when the man gets bored and randomly picks someone to fight, but they usually make it out alive. Maybe a couple weeks in the medical bay and a few broken bones but they aren't dead for the most part. He's also the youngest and therefore the most easy-going even if he's a bit childish. He's a soldier first so he knows the pain of listening to someone verbally beat you down and not having the power to do anything back. But he's still a person at the end of the day and after so many people messing up and delaying his work, he's starting to get irritated. First, it was someone spilling tea onto important documents that he just finished signing, then the Fatui agents stationed near Jueyun Karst being defeated by some no-named treasure hoarders, and then finally being held hostage in his own office because the Liyue Qixing wouldn't leave him alone. God, he slumps over his desk, he just wants to go home and see you!

By the time he finally stumbles through the door, you're already passed out on the couch. He can't blame you, it's very late into the night and he would probably be more upset if you forced yourself to stay awake just to welcome him home. But he can still pout that he was taken away from you for so long, he didn't even get to see you all day. That's borderline torture. But he supposes he can forgive you since you look so cute bundled up in his red shirt. If he happens to take a picture or two that's for his knowledge and eyes only. So he easily scoops you up into his arms, taking a couple seconds to just stand there as he basks in the comfortable weight before he takes you to bed. Just for tonight. This will be the last time work takes him away from home for so long.

It lasts for two weeks. Usually, Childe could hold himself together, he's been away for far longer, but the fact that you're right there and he can't hold you is driving him insane. By the 14th day, Childe is ready to snap his pen in half and hurl it at the next person that comes through that cursed door. He doesn't though because it's usually Ekaterina, the only one that has the balls to talk to him right now, and she deserves far more than she's paid to deal with. But he's touch-deprived and tired. Even Zhongli with his infinite amount of patience advises him to sort himself out before inviting him out to lunch next time. He tried to deal with it on his own, this isn't the first time he's felt claustrophobic, but after the fifth Hilichurl camp he doesn't feel any better which only makes his mood sour further. He might even beat Scaramouche in how short-tempered he is right now. There's heavy air wherever he goes and whatever carefree persona he usually has on is thrown out the window.

It's Zhongli who clues you into how bad Childe's demeanor has gotten, the rascal looks horrible both physically and mentally. Despite the consultant and Childe being on friendly terms, you don't really know the man that well. But he doesn't seem like the type of person to lie so you thank him for the information and make your way to the Northland Bank. To be honest, you've been feeling the effects of not seeing Childe as often as you usually do. You know his work can get so hectic that it keeps him cooped up in his office but it's been a while since you've even seen that fluff of ginger hair. He usually doesn't want you near his work considering how it might put you in danger, but if he isn't taking care of himself then what kind of partner would you be if you didn't help?

Even outside the building, you can feel the effects of what Zhongli talked about. All the agents look like they're on their last legs, there's a gloomy atmosphere surrounding the building even though the sun shines brightly across Liyue harbor, and you can vaguely hear an annoyed Harbinger scolding someone. As soon as you set foot into the building Ekaterina nearly tackles you off your feet. Desperately thanking you for coming and looking at you as if you're the Tsaritsa herself.

As soon as Ekaterina says your name, Childe whips his head around at such a speed that you're afraid his head might fling off as his eyes lock onto yours. You know Childe wouldn't hurt you, never you, but he's looking at you like he's about to devour you and you're suddenly very glad you've never been on the receiving end of his anger. He shoves the papers in his hands into the agent's chest he was probably reprimanding and marches over to where you are.

"C-Childe?" "S-Sir?"

Ekaterina mirrors the wary call of his name until he's finally in front of you and without a word, throws his arms around you. You stumble a bit under his weight but you quickly circle your arms around his back and hold on tight so you don't trip over your own feet. You can only imagine what it looks like for Ekaterina to see her stiff boss suddenly deflate in your arms. A pleased groan escapes from him as he basically lifts you off your feet just so he can hug you closer to him. You almost feel like a child's teddy bear with your legs dangling in the air trapped in a crushing hug. You know that your relationship with Childe isn't a secret but you both don't show any displays of affection, you don't even really interact in public in general, so this is pretty open for the two of you. Well, for you at least. You don't even think Childe is registering anything around him except that you're here.

"Are you okay милый?" you whisper into his ear, nuzzling into the side of his head that's nestled into your shoulder. Your snezhnaya is a little rough around the edges but from how he seems to purr you think he enjoys it nonetheless. "Although I'm happy to see you too, don't you think we should move so we aren't blocking the main entrance?"

He sleepily blinks awake and slowly starts to acknowledge that you're both very much standing at the bank's entrance with everyone shamelessly staring. He frankly looks like he doesn't care, people have working legs, they can walk around you both. But he also doesn't want anyone to find another reason to take him away when he's very comfortable.

"If you need me, don't," is the clipped order that rings out through the bank. You know he's heavily censoring what he actually wants to say but from how everyone cowers away, they can probably tell what would happen if they disobey him. They all give him a nod and a salute before he's picking you up, cradles you into your arms, and swiftly walks upstairs. With a kick of his boot, the door slams shut and he sinks into his chair, you seated pretty on his lap.

"Please never leave me, I think I might die," he groans, re-wrapping his arms tight around your waist. You can only sigh fondly as you gently run your fingers through his hair, rubbing small circles into his scalp and he melts into goo. As if you would want to leave.

Kaveh

You know Kaveh is a bit...eccentric to say the least. He always says what's on his mind and most of the time his thoughts are things he should keep to himself. Even you're not totally immune to his blunt honesty despite the fact he tries to watch how he phrases things when directed to you. He doesn't want to accidentally hurt your feelings, regardless if you know he means no harm. It's rather cute that for someone who doesn't care about what others think of him, he's a bit insecure around you. He likes you, really likes you, and he often finds himself plotting out what he's going to say hours before your lunch date with him. But as soon as you greet him with that charming smile and a brief hug, he turns into putty and whatever flowery language he conjured in his mind is swept away. The confident architect that graduated with honors is reduced to a red-faced mess of stumbling words. It doesn't help that you find it adorable enough to press a chaste kiss to his red cheek and he swears that he's going to pass out from a heat stroke.

He's both extremely glad and terribly conflicted that your love language seems to be touch. He loves it when you brush your fingers through his hair but it always lulls him into sleep so he doesn't get any work done. He loves it when you hug him tightly but then he never wants to leave so he doesn't get any work done. He loves it when you cup his cheeks and pull him into a kiss but then he goes in for seconds, then thirds, and so on that he doesn't get any work done. If he went into alchemy rather than architecture he would dedicate his life work to studying why you have the touch of an Archon that compels him so. But he didn't and now that he's drowning in debt, he really needs to concentrate and finish his work before the deadline.

So now he has the painful task of trying to find an extremely polite way of asking you to leave him alone without you taking offense and breaking up with him. He would be devastated if he couldn't see your loving gaze on him again. But the situation is dire because as soon as he sees you, all he wants to do is curl up in bed with you in his arms. Preferably forever but he'll cross that bridge when he gets there. But every time he tries to bring it up it only takes one look from you for him to stutter and wave off his words. He tries to pep talk himself and every single time he claims that this will be the day that he, very politely, pushes you off, it ends with him melting into goo and waking up the next day with all his untouched work judging him from the table.

It gets to the point that he begins to air his grievances to Alhaitham of all people. To be fair, he doesn't expect the scribe to listen to a word he says and if he did, it would only be because Kaveh needed to pay his share of the rent. But he's pleasantly surprised when you pop up with a guilty smile and that Alhaitham explained his circumstances to you. He tries to clear up the situation, he has no idea what Alhaitham said specifically but it must have been put in the worst way possible, but you take his hands and he shuts up immediately. You give him a light giggle that melts his heart and you tell him to call for you once he's completed his work.

It was the worst decision he's ever made. Second to moving in with Alhaitham. Maybe his judgment of you being an angel was a lie and you were secretly the devil from how often his thoughts were plagued by you. He could draw a circle and think of your eyes. He knows that he's smitten in your presence but he didn't expect that to double when he's suddenly alone. His only motivation is that as soon as he's finished, he'll be able to see you again. But his mind and his work bleed together and he ends up drawing your face instead of buildings and pipes.

He ends up locking himself in his studio and slowly deforming into slime with how awful he's taking care of himself. Alhaitham has to pry him from the table only for Kaveh to flop in his arms that the scribe gives up and hauls the corpse over his shoulder and makes his way to your home. Kaveh still needs to pay his share of the rent so he's not allowed to die before then.

When you opened the door you weren't expecting Alhaitham at your doorstep with Kaveh over his shoulder. He doesn't seem to want to be in this situation either because it looks like he's two seconds away from throwing your boyfriend across the room. But he manages to reign everything in front of you and quickly explains Kaveh's situation, dumping said man into your arms, and telling you to fix it. You shoot him an apologetic smile that he waves off, it's not like it's your fault, before turning around and making his way back to his own home.

"Kaveh?" you whisper gently against his ear to not startle him. It only takes him a second to register your voice before he's perking up and beaming at you. He easily shifts positions so you're in his arms instead. Twirling you around and using the momentum to tuck an arm under your knees and smoothly picking you up, somehow supporting your entire weight in one arm while the other closes the door. Sometimes you forget that Kaveh is really strong despite his lean stature. He is a claymore user after all.

"Darling! What are you doing here?" Kaveh questions while he makes himself at home. If only your living space was big enough for him to store all his work otherwise he would have moved in with you by now.

"Alhaitham mentioned that your recent commission was taking up all your time and you weren't taking care of yourself. Are you alright?" you ask, wrapping your arms around his neck to steady yourself while Kaveh takes his shoes and coat off. In these types of moments, no matter what you do or say he'll refuse to let you out of his arms. If he has to live with one arm then he'll gladly do so just so long as his other hand is wrapped around you.

"Never better," he replies with a smile. He's obviously lying given the dark circles under his pretty red eyes but the soft look he sends you is enough to tell you that right now, he's never been more comfortable. It makes you a bit flustered to have such an intense gaze on you but Kaveh is always forward with his affections and this isn't any different. With you in his arms, there's nowhere for you to run to when he tilts your chin down and brushes his lips against yours.

"Be still for me..." he whispers, the vibrations of his voice tingling against your skin as both of your eyes slowly close. Only for the moment to shatter by loud knocks on your door. You both jerk apart and turn to the disturbance with varying expressions. You're a flustered mess while Kaveh scowls as if the door offended his entire life's work. He finally sets you down on your feet and gives you a quick peck on the cheek. Before marching to the door, flinging it open, and telling the man on the other side to shoo before slamming the door in his face. Unless the world is ending, don't knock.

Ayato

To say Ayato works hard is an understatement. There are several nights when he's glued to his desk rather than resting in bed. Such are the woes of him being forever dedicated to his duties as the Yashiro Commissioner. On days when there are big events and everything needs to be perfect, he's nearly inconsolable that Thoma weighs how much he can get away with if he knocks Ayato out with a frying pan. His pondering doesn't go far because even though Ayato looks like a corpse from the lack of sleep, he'd probably knock Thoma off his feet before the housekeeper could even raise his arms. Ayaka has better luck but she's only able to drag him away for a few minutes before he points in a random direction to divert her attention before disappearing as soon as she turns back. It's just something everyone is aware of and they try their best to support Lord Kamisato. But if it starts to look really bad, like Ayato might drop dead at any second, then you're called in. The last defense and their ace up the sleeve. Not to brag or anything but you have a spotless record and you intend to keep it that way.

It only takes one word from you to have the dignified and cunning Ayato turn into a scared rabbit. His name. None of the wary calls of Lord Kamisato, a dismissal of his titles, and certainly not your affectionate terms of endearment. It always brings the temperature of the room to zero and Ayaka has to double-check that her cyro vision didn't accidentally activate. Unlike Thoma and Ayaka, you're not soft on him and you set your foot down when it comes to his extremes. One of the many reasons he fell in love with you but it's coming back to bite him now. He hates seeing you unhappy, doing anything possible to wipe that frown off your face, but when it's him that's making you so displeased he can't help but look like a scolded puppy.

It doesn't take much for you to know that Ayato has overworked himself to the breaking point again. You understand his duties mean that he's going to be riddled with work but you're his partner first and foremost. You're there to care about Ayato, not the Yashiro Commissioner. And Ayato looks like he's falling apart at the seams. Heavy eye bags, pale complexion, and his body swaying back and forth before he catches himself from falling over. It pains your heart to see him like this and yet still push himself to keep going. So you take one, two, and three steps towards him to delicately take his hand in yours, rubbing soothing circles into his palm before intertwining your fingers together.

Unlike Thoma and Ayaka, he doesn't disappear as soon as you take your eyes off him. Just stands there and stares dopily at you while you issue orders to take over his work. God, you look so attractive when you're in control. It's been a while since he's seen anything but paper and ink but did you always look this beautiful? He's so glad he's going to marry you. Maybe he can force the elders to move the ceremony date up. Everyone in the room politely ignores the fact that Ayato is saying these thoughts out loud and how red your face has gotten.

He doesn't object when you pull him out of the room with you, blindly following you wherever you happen to lead him by the hand. As long as your hand is in his, he'll follow you to the ends of the earth if you'll allow it. It's a bit comical how the dignified Yashiro Commissioner recedes into himself and crumbles away into a love-sick man just by a simple touch. At much as it makes you feel a bit shy, it's nice to know that Ayato won't try and weasel his way out of your grasp and return to his work.

If anything he clings to you like an onikabuto on a tree. You have to waddle your way to the baths with an oversized blue-haired man refusing to let go and draping himself over your back. You know he's making this as hard as possible on purpose, just do you can dote and pamper him a bit longer before he succumbs to slumber and has to return to work. It dampens his mood thinking of the future but it's quickly ushered away by the warm water poured over his head. It's fitting that his vision is hydro because he fits himself into the space you provide as you begin to scrub his hair clean.

There's something meditative about having his hair washed by your hands that no one else can replicate. It's a luxury that he only receives when he works hard enough that his arms hang uselessly at his sides and his body slumps into itself. Soft and malleable, completely willing to bend and mold in whatever shape you wish. But your hands scrub through his hair gently, rubbing all the stress out of his body and never complaining. Right now there's nothing else that matters more than being here with you and you with him.

"I'm going to rinse your hair out. Close your eyes now," you softly say and he follows your instructions. The rush of warm water is soothing to his ears although it sparks something in his memory that momentarily takes him out of this romantic moment. He reaches blindly behind him to take your hand, rubbing circles into your palm to halt your actions.

"It's just occurred to me but aren't you supposed to be on a trip to Watatsumi island?" he opens his eyes to peer up at you, his long eyelashes tipped with water droplets reminding you of just how pretty Ayato is. It's almost a good enough distraction for you to forget why exactly you're here rather than speaking with Kokomi right now. Almost.

"I was but someone had to go and work himself to death again. You need to take better care of yourself Ayato. I don't want to see Thoma running across all of Inazuma just to drag me back because you can't seem to sit still for a few seconds," your frown deepens with each sentence. Your free hand that's not in his grasp is knocking against his forehead, albeit not hard enough to cause any actual pain. He only chuckles before pulling you into the water with him until you're sitting on the edge of the bathtub. His head lay comfortably against your thighs.

"Apologies." He's not sorry at all. "When you're not beside me I have to throw myself into my work or else I may go insane."

"Oh so now all of this is my fault," you huff exasperated but he can hear the undertones of how happy that sentence makes you. "Come on, you'll catch a cold if we stay here any longer."

"Mmm, indulge me," he mumbles into your skin, his eyes closing once again with a content smile on his face. He doesn't need to see to know that you have an equally fond expression.

"Oh, so now my lord wishes to relax?"

"Only because you're here."

Alhaitham

You know that your relationship with Alhaitham is unusual to onlookers. You're both polar opposites and yet somehow stumbled into a rather healthy and committed relationship. To others, Alhaitham is a talented and intelligent man. The perfect bachelor if it wasn't for his "extraordinary sense of individualism" that he doesn't pay attention to people around him. He's notorious for being hard to get along with that not even his handsome face is enough for people to sit around for too long. Meanwhile, there's you. A wandering traveler who takes work whenever anyone needs an extra pair of hands. You're a bit well-known for accepting any job that pays well regardless of how dangerous or weird it might be. But unlike Alhaitham, you're more than happy to make conversation and you're often seen conversing with scholars from every one of the Six Darshans.

To everyone's knowledge, it's you that's the clingy one. You always have a hand around his arm or throw yourself at him shamelessly. Everyone assumes that Alhaitham tolerates it because he never pushes you off but he doesn't reciprocate affection to the degree that you do. If only those nosy scholars could see him now. Your newest job has you traveling to the Chasm to help collect and study the newly opened area. While the Chasm is close to Sumeru, a series of mysterious accidents led the entire mine to be closed. With the Liyue Qizing gradually reopening the area there's a lot of ground to cover. Alhaitham doesn't care much for the details except that this means you'll be away from him for a few years rather than a few weeks. As soon as you told him the expected date you'll return his face instantly soured. It was so cute that you couldn't help but press kisses to the corners of his mouth until they lifted. But one thing led to another and you're now trapped underneath his strong figure for the past couple of hours with no signs of him letting go. Every day you're gone equates to one minute he gets to keep you here.

No matter how much Alhaitham wishes to make you stay, even going so far as to bribe you, you eventually gather your things, press one last kiss to his lips, and leave him in his too-quiet house. He doesn't want to admit it but as soon as he closes the door he already feels lonely. But he'll learn to cope and continue with his life. He's been through more challenging obstacles and made it through. It's only two years, 3 months, 14 minutes, and 58 seconds. Alhaitham sighs and leans against the door. He's not going to make it.

Everyone else is content to whisper behind their hands about how the scribe seems to be more hostile. While Alhaitham doesn't have the most friendly personality, he's still somewhat polite until someone gives him a reason to exit the conversation. But now Alhaitham can barely get two sentences in before insulting someone. He doesn't even mean to do it on purpose, it just slips out. A girl who happens to share your eye color is met with a backhanded compliment that she should eat more fish. A man whose skin color is just a shade lighter than yours is met with an irritated scowl before he could even say anything. It's only now that people start to miss your presence because anything is better than a walking warning sign.

It only takes a few weeks for him to crack. He's not usually this starved of attention but the knowledge that he won't see you for another two years has him itching at his wrists. While on the outside there doesn't seem to be any changes, he's perfectly calm and collected, but his facade breaks when he starts making rash decisions. When he heard that his senior Kaveh needed a place to stay due to his financial situation, he offered to live with him much to everyone and his own surprise. Even Kaveh suspiciously asks why Alhaitham is being so generous. He doesn't dignify it with a proper answer, only that he better get his situation fixed within the next two years or the scribe is kicking him out.

As the second year rolls past, it's Kaveh who brings up Alhaitham's sudden mood change. He seems...excited. Kaveh chalks it up to Alhaitham being happy that Kaveh is finally moving out but that'd be kind of low even for someone like Alhaitham. As someone who cares about the arts and romance, there's a certain care in how Alhaitham cleans the house. Every systematic movement is laced with a longing gaze. His wrists are rubbed raw that Kaveh has to physically step in or he might rub so hard he reaches the bone. But above all the dangerous aura around Alhaitham is replaced with something Kaveh can only describe as restless patience.

"Honey, I'm home!" your happy voice is accompanied by the loud slam of the door crashing against the wall. Kaveh is startled by a random stranger entering their house but mostly at the term of endearment. Alhaitham only lowers his book at your voice before going back to reading. A bit rude in Kaveh's opinion but he can see the small smile that Alhaitham tries to hide behind the pages of his book. It's not like you aren't a bit devious yourself. So you retaliate by plucking the book out of his hands, taking a quick glance at his page number before placing it on the desk.

"Welcome back. I assume your job went well?" Alhaitham sighs as you kick his legs apart, plop yourself down into his lap, and rest your head against his chest. If you weren't so enthralled by the masterpiece that was Alhaitham's physique, you would have laughed at how the blond-haired man seemed to stare owlishly at the scene. His eyes almost fall out of their heads when Alhaitham doesn't push you off, doesn't throw you over his shoulder, or even make the slightest hint of being irritated or embarrassed. He just places his hands around your waist, rests his chin on your head, and sends an icy glare to which the blond-haired man scoffs before excusing himself. It's not anything different from what he usually does to onlookers although this is you and you can tell just how weary he is. How deeply he relaxes in your hold as the tension melts from his shoulders. How his eyes search over your body for any injuries that you might have gotten. It does look like you got a bit roughed up during your stay at the Chasm. Your hair is cut shorter than he remembers, you've put on some muscle, and there are a few nicks and cuts running along parts of your skin that are visible. But none of that matters because you're here. You're finally here.

"Aww, Haitham did you miss me?" you tease only to quickly eat your words when he manuever's you sideways so he can pin your back against the couch. You're hit with a sense of deja vu back to two years ago when you were about to leave for this trip.

"The next time you take a commission that lasts longer than two weeks, I'm coming with you or you're not going at all," he grumbles as he tucks himself into the crook of your neck with no signs of leaving. You laugh now but he's dead serious.

Dottore

You aren't sure when it started but at some point, you've been labeled as "Dottore's Favourite". He always seems to be the slightest bit nicer if you happen to be there, his voice a smidge less aggressive, and a lot more touchy. He's a Doctor first so he doesn't want to be contaminated by whatever bacteria people have gathered. But with you, he always seems to have a hand on you. Either harshly pinching your cheeks like a child with a crazed grin whenever you mumble something he deems stupid or pulling your arm of out its socket as he yanks you through the hallways of his lab. You act almost as his shadow, permanently glued to his feet and forced to follow wherever he goes.

You wouldn't consider yourself exceptional at your job but you did know how to listen. Perhaps it was your blatant disregard for your lack of safety since your head was always in the clouds that let you do your job with a steady hand. You don't blame your college's, it's hard to work under so much stress. If you had to do quantum physics and whatever the hell smart people do with someone who could, and would, kill you on the spot if you couldn't tell him what 3567 x 438 was on the spot, you think you could have exploded and crumbled on the spot. But you were just the ditzy receptionist who twirled a pencil on her nose more than on a paper. The only thing you were required to do was make sure Dottore was never bothered and let him know if anyone important needed his attention.

You've seen the Regrator the most compared to the rest of the Harbingers. You don't know what a banker needs from a doctor but you're not about to ask. It's not your business and you aren't paid enough to care about what your boss does. Besides, for such a handsome face his presence creeps you out which is saying something considering there's a maniacal doctor that treats human lives like numbers on a stats page. But since you are his "receptionist" you have to make conversation with him. Most of your interaction extends to him asking if the Doctor is in and you politely saying that he's out. You both pointedly ignore the loud crashes and angry yelling from one of his segments behind the closed steel door.

Once again, you don't consider yourself exceptional at your job. You're just a lousy receptionist at a place that doesn't require it and who spends all their time spinning in the office chair than doing actual work. You're just as replaceable as any grunt in this hell hole. So when Tartaglia waltzes through the doors, blinking at you with his dead fish eyes, before nodding to himself and hauling you out of your chair you can only hope that Dottore manages to remember that he has a meeting with Pantalone at noon.

You're hardly gone for an hour. Tartaglia was just bored, bored enough to come to Dottore of all people, that he happened to spot you who looked equally as bored. He just roughed you up a little before he deemed you completely useless and a horrible fighter before sending you back on your way. Seriously, if he wanted a fight he should have just picked one of the skirmishers instead of a damn receptionist. Although you may have to reconsider your position because as soon as you walk back into the lab, a girl is throwing herself at you and demanding where you've been.

You don't get the chance to answer before she's hurriedly running down twisting hallways, down the stairs, and punching in codes so complicated it looked like she was trying to make music out of them. Whatever questions you have are ignored in favor of getting you somewhere as fast as possible. It begins to make sense when you're finally shoved into a room, the girl who dragged you all this way throwing herself onto her knees and begging for forgiveness for letting you wander off.

The lab is an absolute disaster. This isn't the organized chaos you're acquainted with but the aftermath of a manic episode you're familiar with. Glass shards dripping with fluorescent liquid, research notes torn apart that flutter around the room as faux snow, and one mad doctor in the middle.

"Where have you been?"

For someone who destroyed years worth of progress, he sounds oddly calm and collected. His deep voice is firm while he fiddles with a test tube of blue liquid, watching it slosh around before placing it onto a broken table. He barely pays any mind to the girl currently on her hands and knees, forehead pressed to the ground while she glares at you to say something.

"Out," is your reply. A casual shrug of your shoulders even though the Dottore's back is to you. He's not wearing his usual white coat. That's too bad, you think it looks kinda cool. Really goes with his bird aesthetic.

"Out...out you say. Out. Out. Out," he mumbles softly, each time he say's the word "out", he taps the test tube harder onto the table. The lull in conversation only makes the pressure of the room drop lower before the tension snaps and he hurls the test tube at the girl still on her knees. It's only thanks to your reflexes that you manage to grab the collar of her uniform and throw her back just as the test tube collides with the floor, the liquid melting away the concrete where her head was. You can only give her a nudge and a look towards the door for her to scramble to her feet and flee as far away as she can. The slam of the door behind her acting as the nail in the coffin as Dottore's body seems to slump in on itself.

"Where have you been?" he asks again, running a hand through his messy hair. He sounds and looks far more tired, his fingers twitching to reach out and hold you but his pride stopping him. So you push yourself and step forward into his space, reaching your hands out to cup his face and rubbing soothing circles into his porcelain skin. He doesn't lean into your touch but he doesn't push you away either.

"Getting tossed around by Tartaglia. He came by saying he was bored and I just so happened to be there," you say absentmindedly, twirling the long lock of blue hair that hangs off the sides of his mask. He responds by snatching your wrist, squeezing hard enough until your bones creak. "Were you worried? Did you think I ran away?"

He doesn't dignify your question with a response. Simply shrugging your hands off his face before he reaches up to pinch your cheeks, a familiar cackle vibrating from his chest.

"As if you would have anywhere to go."

———

[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@genshins1mpact @creatorofstars @xoneaboveallx @timmyitsmeeee @raingoesboomboom @duhsies @thegayrubberducky @openingssequence @onowie

[lovelyney]

─────DATING THEM !! SUMERU GUYS───────

CHARACTERS: al haitham, cyno, kaveh, tighnari

SCENT: headcanons

WARNINGS: suggestive themes on all of them, LOL.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯2023 !! #©LOVELYNEY

꒱₊˚ 𝐀𝐋 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌 !! 𝐀𝐃𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

𖠵𝟎𝟏: Literally a grouchy old man, LMAO. And I’m not just saying this because of his hair ‹/3

𖠵𝟎𝟐: Almost nobody believed you when you said you were dating Haitham ‹/3 Merely because people thought of him as seeing relationships as a “waste of his time.”

oh, did he prove them wrong as he walked up behind you and kissed your cheek, eyes boring through the back of their heads.

𖠵𝟎𝟑: Kaveh didn’t believe him for a second when he said he had a s/o; he had to meet you in person for him to accept it.

“You must be, (NAME). I can’t believe you’re actually real and not some imaginary person Al Haitham made up to make himself feel better. Archons, you’re pretty too. Are you being hypnotized? Forced, maybe?”

“You are testing every last drop of my patience, Kaveh.”

𖠵𝟎𝟒: Incredibly sassy and cocky; he purposefully gets on your nerves, LMAO.

𖠵𝟎𝟓: Acts like your overly strict parent rather than your boyfriend sometimes ‹/3

𖠵𝟎𝟔: He isn’t a very touchy person (if at all), however, he doesn’t necessarily mind if you cling to him.

an exception to this is if he’s around other people like Cyno or Dehya. not because he’s ashamed of you or anything, he just rather keep his cool guy persona up and not get teased, LOL.

𖠵𝟎𝟕: Gives you his cape without any hesitation whenever you get scared or cold ‹3

𖠵𝟎𝟖: “Baby/babe,” “darling,” and “bluebell.”

❝ Oh, welcome back, bluebell. How did your meeting go? I saw you were talking with Cyno. What? No, of course, I’m not jealous. I just don’t trust him with you—both because of our rivalry and because of how. . . enchanting you are. It’s natural for him to want to steal you from me. ❞

𖠵𝟎𝟗: He doesn’t get jealous very often since his trust in you runs strong.

𖠵𝟏𝟎: (↑) However, he will get impatient if you’re not giving him your full-blown attention when he wants it, LMAO.

𖠵𝟏𝟏: Flirts with you with literally no shame—doesn’t matter when or where.

𖠵𝟏𝟐: Acts annoyed whenever he has to get you out of trouble, but he doesn’t really mind; he’s just worried you’re going to get yourself seriously hurt one of the times.

𖠵𝟏𝟑: Often pulls you in his lap whenever he’s reading or studying something—letting you fumble with one of his hands as he continues doing whatever.

𖠵𝟏𝟒: God forbid anyone hurts you or says something bad. He will either obliterate them or humiliate them horribly.

𖠵𝟏𝟓: Whenever he goes to hold your hand, he’ll always bring his lips to your inner wrist ‹3

𖠵𝟏𝟔: Let’s say you were with him and Aether when traversing to Aeru Village when Cyno tried to uh. . . ambush him. He immediately pushed you behind him.

“Haitham, stop glaring at Cyno. I’m sure he didn’t expect me to be there.”

“He could’ve seriously hurt you, (NAME). That is a matter I do not take lightly, and you know that.”

𖠵𝟏𝟕: Always has his hand resting on you (mostly on your thigh) when you two are in a meeting.

𖠵𝟏𝟖: You’ve had a few encounters where people selling Canned Knowledge tried to threaten you for Haitham’s whereabouts, and boy when he finds out, he is far from pleased.

𖠵𝟏𝟗: Listen,,,, LISTEN. He probably fucks you in Kaveh’s bed, LMAO.

𖠵𝟐𝟎: He says he helped out for “his own personal reasons.” However, when he found out what the Akademiya was doing, his thoughts wandered to you and how you were doing.

𖠵𝟐𝟏: Probably tugs on your lower lip when he pulls away from kissing you.

𖠵𝟐𝟐: He’s a tad emotionally constipated ‹/3 Try to be patient with him.

𖠵𝟐𝟑: Arguments with him are a pain in the ass cause he thinks he knows everything 😑Bitch, maybe you should know a therapist.

he’s also one try to provoke and make you flustered in arguments.

꒱₊˚ 𝐂𝐘𝐍𝐎 !! 𝐉𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒

𖠵𝟎𝟏: Cyno is quite literally your personal bodyguard ‹/3

𖠵𝟎𝟐: God, you two definitely play TCG together !! Your first few games, he tried so hard to go easy on you, LMAO; man’s is competitive ‹/3

after that. . . however, he uses that as an excuse whenever you beat his ass; LMAO.

“How did you so effortlessly wipe out my perfect deck? What do you know that I don’t?”

“Cyno, I love you, but maybe your ‘perfect’ deck isn’t so perfect if you keep losing.”

“I—I told you. . . I just was going easy on you this time. I don’t normally play like this.”

“Yeah, that sounds just as believable as all the other 10 times you’ve said it.”

𖠵𝟎𝟑: He was initially so awkward around you; Tighnari had to be his wingman because he quite literally wouldn’t get anywhere without his guidance, LMAO.

𖠵𝟎𝟒: Another one where people didn’t believe that you were dating him; he came behind them and was like “🤨”

𖠵𝟎𝟓: Looks out for you 24/7 !! His mom-boyfriend mode turns on whenever you get in his line of vision, LMAO.

𖠵𝟎𝟔: Always questions if you’re taking proper care of yourself; he will not have you neglecting yourself in any way, shape, or form.

“(NAME) you haven’t moved from this spot since I’ve left—that was four hours ago. Have you eaten at all? No? I figured as much; now, come on and get up. I’m making food and you’re putting down that paper.”

𖠵𝟎𝟕: When you first met Al Haitham, you literally thought Cyno was going to start barking with how he guarded you.

HAITHAM: “Oh? You must be Cyno’s significant other, (NAME), right? Hm, it’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Al Haitham, your boyfriend’s assassination target. I’m sure he’s told you about me.”

“Why in all of Teyvat would I mention anything of you to (NAME)? Given that I'm in love with them, I'd rather not drive them mad by discussing you with them.”

𖠵𝟎𝟖: Definitely teaches some of his intimidation and fighting techniques to you so that you can properly protect yourself.

𖠵𝟎𝟗: “Doll,” “(sweet) dove,” and “love/love-bug.”

❝ Oh? Welcome back, dove. How come you look so worn out? Did someone give you trouble on your way back? Oh, you don’t say. Did you apply some of the techniques I told you? Yeah? Heh, that’s my girl/boy. ❞

𖠵𝟏𝟎: Always keeps a watchful eye on you wherever he goes, especially on the more dangerous missions you set out on.

𖠵𝟏𝟏: Similar to Haitham, people normally steer clear of messing with you because you’re the General Mahamatra’s s/o, but also will purposely do so because of that reason.

“They did what to you? You’re kidding. . . Doll, you don’t happen to remember how they look, do you? Or the direction they went in? In no way am I letting this go unpunished. They can threaten me all they like, but getting you involved is crossing the line with me.”

𖠵𝟏𝟐: Whenever he’s working on paperwork, he’ll always pull you on his lap without second thought—absentmindedly drumming his fingers against your thigh when he’s deep in thought.

𖠵𝟏𝟑: He loves your fingers through his hair ‹3 Especially when you slightly scratch his scalp—it’s one of the things that truly relaxes him.

𖠵𝟏𝟒: Thrives in intimate moments between you two ‹3 I mean bathing together, make-out sessions, sex.

𖠵𝟏𝟓: I can see him being a jealous/possessive type. ESPECIALLY if you’re laughing at the person’s jokes. that sets off a fire in him he never knew he had.

sometimes he’ll actually just walk up to you, grab your hand, and drag you away from whoever you’re talking to. and sneak you away into an alleyway to make out with you.

𖠵𝟏𝟔: He will so nonchalantly say things that fluster you and then act confused why you’re so red.

“Love? Why did you grow so quiet all of the sudden? Did I say something wrong?”

“Cyno, you literally just said if it weren’t for everyone being here, you’d have me pushed against the wall.”

𖠵𝟏𝟕: Loves whenever you’re sleeping on top of him; he relishes in your body heat.

𖠵𝟏𝟖: Always grabs your chin before kissing you; if he wants to kiss you, he’s kissing you, LMAO.

he's a strangely good kisser. . . he's rough with his kisses, but he's also incredibly passionate with them.

𖠵𝟏𝟗: Very awkward when he’s comforting you; the one thought that sticks to his mind is: “who dare hurt the only one love? I swear on Lessor Lord Kusanali, they will receive the most cruelest judgment.”

𖠵𝟐𝟎: Loves whenever you’re working out in the desert so he can see you all sweaty.

𖠵𝟐𝟏: Has a weird adoration for your shoulder blades and collarbone; it’s where he loves to leave his marks.

𖠵𝟐𝟐: Always slips his cape around your shoulders whenever you fall asleep on him or while you’re working.

𖠵𝟐𝟑: If your legs are tired after walking for a while, you can guarantee Cyno will carry you the way back 😭 (Mom, I love him, can I pls have his hand in marriage.)

𖠵𝟐𝟒: Surprisingly clingy, in public and not. he doesn’t really care what people think of him, so he’ll love on you as he wishes.

𖠵𝟐𝟓: (↑) One of his favorites is holding your hand !! He loves how soft and small yours feels compared to his.

𖠵𝟐𝟔: Always gives you a kiss before he or you leaves (: Doesn’t matter who’s in the room.

“(Sighs.) Be careful out there, okay, doll? I love you.”

HAITHAM: “How disgustingly sweet…”

“At least someone loves me, Al Haitham.”

HAITHAM: “…excuse me?”

𖠵𝟐𝟕: His favorite places to kiss you is your collarbone, the backs of your hands, and your neck.

𖠵𝟐𝟖: Smiles against your lips whenever he kisses you and HDJDJDKD.

𖠵𝟐𝟗: He is a great secret keeper !! and he's also very non-judgmental. He'll take whatever you say to him to his grave.

𖠵𝟑𝟎: Also a wonderful person to gossip too because he always has a stoic expression, lol.

𖠵𝟑𝟏: Incredibly cheesy and stupid pickup lines </3 Tighnari prays for you every day.

꒱₊˚ 𝐊𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐇 !! 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐘𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

𖠵𝟎𝟏: An incredibly dramatic hopeless romantic. (Me, LMAO.)

𖠵𝟎𝟐: A literal koala when it comes to you; he’s attached to your hip 24/7 when he’s available. Al Haitham questions your taste in men. (He’s secretly happy that Kaveh’s so happy with you.)

𖠵𝟎𝟑: Would probably do anything and everything for you ?? He’s literally like a lost puppy dog without you.

𖠵𝟎𝟒: You’re number one gossip partner !! He loves to gossip, but he always promises to keep whatever you say to him in between the two of you.

𖠵𝟎𝟓: A big cuddle bug !! Especially after work or in the earlier mornings. It’s nearly impossible to pry him off you in the mornings. . .

𖠵𝟎𝟔: Likes to hug you from behind whenever you cook. That way he can smell the delicious food and relish in your warmth.

𖠵𝟎𝟕: “Angel,” “baby/babe,” “mi amor/amor,” “my love/love,” “sweetheart” and probably like a thousand more.

❝(NAME)! Thank the dendro archon, you’re here! You won’t believe the attitude Al Haitham gave me today! I told him how we started dating, and get this. . . He didn’t believe me! Can you believe that? So, therefore, I’m taking you to meet him tomorrow to prove it! Then we’ll see who’s laughing now!❞

𖠵𝟎𝟖: Needs reassurance that he’s enough for you.

𖠵𝟎𝟗: Kisses everywhere !! His favorite places are right beneath your ears, the inside of your wrists and of course, your lips.

𖠵𝟏𝟎: (↑) A feisty kisser !! He can get needy after long times without seeing you. (Deeper kisses, hands clutching you a bit more tightly, whining.)

𖠵𝟏𝟏: Get’s jealous prettyyy easily. . . Especially if it’s around Al Haitham or anyone he thinks is better than him ☹️

“Hey! Find your own lover to hit on, jackass! This one’s mine!”

𖠵𝟏𝟐: (↑) If the flirting or stares are continuous, he’ll beg you to let him mark you just so that it’s something when he’s not there. With enough puppy eyes and begging, you’ll let him. . .

𖠵𝟏𝟑: Loves making out with you. He also can’t keep his hands off you no matter what. His hands are always busy when he’s kissing you.

𖠵𝟏𝟒: Dreams about the day where he gets to design his and your baby’s room. ☹️☹️☹️☹️.

𖠵𝟏𝟓: Likes to drag you to the group’s TCG hangouts. They don’t mind, not unless he won’t shut up about you or is showing immense amounts of PDA. 😭😭

𖠵𝟏𝟔: (↑) Speaking of PDA. . . He loves it, especially if you’re the one to initiate it.

𖠵𝟏𝟕: Tries to hide it, but he gets super worried about you when you’re not around. . . One of his biggest fears is losing you.

꒱₊˚ 𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈 !! 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑

𖠵𝟎𝟎: I love this sassy fox sm omg 😡😡

𖠵𝟎𝟏: As I just said, Tighnari is incredibly sassy, LMAO. He was when you first met; he is now when you two are dating ‹/3 although his sass is more manifested in a loving way towards you.

𖠵𝟎𝟐: He lives to tease you—both flirtatiously and not. He loves to watch your expression shift and face flush.

𖠵𝟎𝟑: Fennec foxes mate for life, so there’s no escaping him when you’re together ‹/3

𖠵𝟎𝟒: Will always subconsciously wrap his tail around your waist or thigh whenever you’re standing close to him.

𖠵𝟎𝟓: (↑) Whenever you’re going out somewhere, he’ll always brush his tail against you multiple times; it’s his way of scenting you.

𖠵𝟎𝟔: Flirty !! Like surprisingly flirty—and like Cyno, he doesn’t do it without much thought. He loves to see your face redden because of his comments.

𖠵𝟎𝟕: Obviously, being best friends with Collei !! You always spend lots of time with her whenever he’s being petty—which is all the time 🙄

𖠵𝟎𝟖: Speaking of Collei, she thinks you two are the cutest together ): She loves asking him or you how you two are doing !! You’ve basically adopted her.

𖠵𝟎𝟗: Brings you home lots of different jewels or plants from the expeditions he goes on, then gives you an entire lecture on what type is it and how to take care of it 😭😭

𖠵𝟏𝟎: “Cutie,” “(little) kit,” “(my) butterfly,” “(my) flower,” “rose/rosebud,” “sunflower,” or “sweetheart.”

❝ You’re finally back. . . Where exactly have you been all day, rosebud? Hm? With Collei, you say? And you didn’t care to tell me? You had me worrying like a madman all day, you lummox! Don’t roll your eyes at me! You know how much I love and care about you. Don’t play dumb with me, kit. I make my love for you very apparent, do I not? ❞

𖠵𝟏𝟏: Any stupid decision or antic you make is never unnoticed by Tighnari, LMAO. He’ll always give you a 10-minute lecture as he’s bandaging you. he is your mom-boyfriend.

𖠵𝟏𝟐: Despite his sarcastic nature, it’s apparent to anyone in Gandhara Ville how his voice softens when talking to you or how his ears always perk at the mention of your name ‹3

𖠵𝟏𝟑: He loves speaking of your accomplishments to others !! As I said, he is your mom-boyfriend 🫶🫶

CYNO: “So, how’s (NAME) doing? You haven’t talked them to death, have you?”

“Oh, (NAME)? They’re doing alright, I believe. Did they tell you that they finally perfected their flower revival process? Gosh, they’ve been trying for months, and they finally got it just last week. The joy in their eyes as they showed me was unmatchable, Cyno. And…” doesn’t stop talking for 10 minutes.

𖠵𝟏𝟒: He’s very clingy in the mornings !! He’ll latch onto you and won’t let you go until he himself gets up.

𖠵𝟏𝟓: You’re the only one privileged to pet his ears and tail !! He even lets you brush them !! He thinks your focused expression is oh-so-cute ‹3

𖠵𝟏𝟔: Goes on high alert whenever he smells another guy’s scent on you.

𖠵𝟏𝟕: Purrs whenever you scratch at the base of his ears; he melts right into your arms.

𖠵𝟏𝟖: Hates seeing you upset because he feels incredibly helpless ): Especially if you’re fighting against your own emotions and/or thoughts.

𖠵𝟏𝟗: Adores leaving marks on places that’re visible to the public eye. He hates sharing you but bares with it by marking his territory (you.)

𖠵𝟐𝟎: Takes really good care of you when you’re sick, having the best remedies and making the best food; however, he will not shut up—tread carefully, LOL.

𖠵𝟐𝟏: Being a respectful person, he won’t normally result to violence if he hears someone disrespecting you. He will humiliate them in every way he can, though.

“What did I hear you say about (NAME)? That they’re talentless, correct? Did you know they can completely bring plants back to life? No, of course, you didn’t. And what have you done, hm? Didn’t you mistake poison ivy for mint leaves one time? Would you like me to recite that incident word for word for you? No? Then I’d advise you to keep my lover’s name out of your mouth.”

𖠵𝟐𝟐: He’s very patient with you !! If you’re struggling with something, he will go over it with you as many times as you’d like.

𖠵𝟐𝟑: Likes to take you with on his ranger’s duties so you can’t get yourself hurt. Or so that nobody can get too close to you.

𖠵𝟐𝟒: He’s the type to get angry at you whenever you put yourself in danger—his worry of losing you manifests into anger.

𖠵𝟐𝟓: Whenever he senses danger, his tail will wrap around your waist and he’ll pull you closer against his side.

𖠵𝟐𝟔: Protects and guards you as if you were his actual kit.

𖠵𝟐𝟕: Loves to hold your hand whenever you two are out—giving it a gentle tug if you were to wander too far from his side.

𖠵𝟐𝟖: Whenever he teaches you archery, he’ll always kiss your cheek before pulling away from you, laughing if you were to get flustered and mess up.

𖠵𝟐𝟗: He acts kinda blandly whenever receiving gifts from you, but he guards them with his life 😭 He finds it really cute whenever you bring him something that reminded you of him.

𖠵𝟑𝟎: Since his days are usually spent patrolling the forests and researching, he tries to make every date of yours count and perfect; he feels guilty he isn’t with you very often.

𖠵𝟑𝟏: If you’re resting on him while he’s working, he will do everything he can to ensure you stay asleep—glaring at anyone who’s being too noisy.

𖠵𝟑𝟐: Before you nap or go to sleep, he’ll always make your bed and fluff up the pillows to make sure you rest comfortably ‹3

𖠵𝟑𝟑: Has a dedicated notebook filled with stuff about you: your likes, dislikes, habits, etc.

[sleepershell]

Study Sesh

pairing coriolanus snow x capitol!fem!reader

content coryo is his own warning, ambitious reader, relatively nice coryo, 18+ nsfw minors DNI pls, oral sex (female receiving & male receiving), slight use of force, gentle dom

synopsis you offer your best friend Coryo something he can’t refuse when he’s over at your house

wc 2222

Coriolanus Snow never paid attention the way I wanted him to. Even with the house all to ourselves, my parents away attending to business, he was studying. It’d been weeks since I’d gotten him to come over to hang out and even then he chose to come over and study. I let out a long sigh.

“Coryo, can we please do something else?”

His eyes didn’t even lift from the book his nose was buried in. “Soon. We have a paper due on this in a week.”

“Don’t remind me.” I huffed. “I'm not even as far as you are.”

Still focused on the page, he slid my own copy across the table, closer to me. “Then you should be reading.”

I took the book begrudgingly and opened to where I’d left off. I couldn’t focus on any of the words with him sitting right there, so I hopped up from my seat and began to pace about the room, book held out in front of me. It was a sunny winter day, and our big drawing room windows let in huge swaths of sunlight. They felt pleasantly warm on my arms through my silken shirt sleeves.

Sudden movement made me jump as Coryo set down his book. “Would you please stop that pacing, I can’t concentrate at all!” He was such a grump most of the time. It made him all the more fun to tease.

“Oh, but I can’t concentrate without pacing.”

“Well, do it elsewhere, then.”

“That would defeat the purpose of having you over, wouldn’t it?”

He looked at me, his mouth pursed, before beginning to stand. “You’re right.”

“No, no, no, no.” I rushed over to him, gently grasping his arm. “I just won’t study.”

He sat back down in the sitting chair I’d dragged over to the table for him. He would never be so careless with my parents’ furniture, so I made sure to always do what I could to accommodate him. I was the only one in school who knew how he lived. It was by accident, truly. We’d been very young when I’d followed him home from school. His family had insisted on me coming in once I knocked despite Coriolanus being horribly upset at my being there. But I’d never told a soul. I think in a way it was a relief for him to have one person who knew, one person he could talk to. Not that he often would. He preferred to hold that part of him very close. I was his best friend and, still, I felt I couldn't get him to see me. Occasionally he’d take comfort in me but his focus was always elsewhere.

Satisfied that he wasn’t going anywhere, I left him alone to go sit in the wide outcropping sill of one of the windows. It was even warmer there, and I felt like a cat all perched up with my knees to my chest. He was so solemn as he read, his eyebrows scrunched in focus. A beautiful blonde curl fell in front of his face. He remained still but for his breathing, as if he hadn’t noticed. As he turned the page, I watched his strong fingers. He was able to hold the book open with one hand, the other pressed to his lips. I listened as the grandfather clock ticked on. Wondered for the better part of an hour whether he’d ever look up, whether he’d ever see me.

“Coryo?”

He turned his intense eyes up to me.

I stood and unbuttoned the front of my blouse, letting it fall to my sides and reveal the white lace brassiere beneath.

He blinked but didn’t spare a gaze at my chest. “I’m busy right now.”

I crossed the room to him, slipping off my loafers on the way and leaving my blouse behind. He was practically hunched over the book. I placed my hands on the back of his perfectly tailored red jacket. He was so good at appearing perfect, wasn’t he? Sometimes I hated him for it. In truth, my own parents liked him better than me. But as I felt the hardness of his shoulders and the heat through the fabric, I realized exactly how I could get his attention.

I leaned forward, curling my arms around the front of him. My face nestled into his neck, I took a deep breath of his scent—the faintest whiff of human sweat behind clean linen and flowering roses. He hummed as I whispered into his ear.

“I think it’s time for a break.”

He tensed. “(Y/n), you know I can't. I need to keep my place at the top.”

I grumbled and let him go, pacing back to where I’d left the shirt. I unhooked my skirt there, dropping it in a heap at my ankles. When I turned to look at him, he’d taken out a damned pencil and was underlining something in the book. I stomped toward him and placed my palms firmly on the cool wood of the table.

“Coriolanus, you’ll need more than good grades on your side and you know it.” Finally, I had his attention. He was frowning at me, as usual, but it was a start. “I can get you the rest, but I won’t be so inclined if you can’t even spare a moment to indulge me.”

The book slapped shut as he removed his thumb. “What are you doing?” He looked at me like an adversary. I felt a fire in my core knowing that I could get him riled up. It meant he knew I wasn't like most of those other idiots at the Academy. I didn’t study because I didn't care much about my grades despite having the aptitude. I was assured a comfortable life regardless. I doubted he saw anyone as an equal, so I’d have to settle for being a worthy opponent.

I crouched down, crawling toward him under the table like a stalking cat. As I kneeled before him he looked down at me with a peculiar expression.

“Mr. Snow, I think you’ll find it quite hard to claw your way to the top without some extra cash in your pockets.” The crotch of his pants was beginning to look a bit too tight. I bent forward to place a kiss on it and heard him hiss in response.

“You’re obscene, you know that?”

“What’s obscene, Mr. Snow, is the wealth my parents are drowning in.” I leaned my head on his thigh, peering up at him as innocently as I could manage. “Wealth I can influence in the direction I’d like it to go. And they do so love you. It wouldn’t even be a hard sell.”

I could see the ghost of a smile on his face and knew I’d said the right thing. “Call me President.”

“Yes, President Snow.” I said it prettily, and his smile broadened at the sound.

“You’ve decided to bribe me like I’m a whore.” He said, all the while undoing his trousers. I was getting exactly what I wanted, but the deal was even sweeter for him, I knew.

His hardness sprang from his briefs with power. I ran a fingertip along its length. It was already leaking at the tip, and I brushed over it causing him to shudder. Without breaking eye contact, I licked it off my finger.

“Oh fuck,” he muttered. His hips tipped forward the slightest bit, clearly yearning for me to take him in my mouth. And I did. With one hand gripped around the warm base, I slid my lips over him. He was larger than I’d realized before, so I began slowly, only taking half of it. He groaned, and I had to press my own legs together in response to the twinge between them. I was able to touch my lips to my hand after a few bobs of my head, and as I descended onto him, he seemed to come to life.

I felt his hands both rest gently on the back of my head as I moved, making sure I knew not to back off too far. If I did, I would find the end to that gentleness. His breathing was quickened which made me respond by increasing my own speed. That must have been it for him, because I felt his hands turn to stone as he began bucking his hips, thrusting himself further into my mouth.

As he fucked, I could feel the end of him hitting me in the throat, almost too far but not quite. He was groaning little affirmations to me then, as he used me to get chase the feeling building up inside him. Saliva was beginning to fall from my mouth around his cock, and I could feel some of it running down my chin and throat, sliding onto my chest. He pushed himself to the end and held himself in my throat, giving me no warning before spilling heat inside me. I felt the twitch and his whole body go still as his cum pumped into me. It was so deep it took no effort to swallow. When he relaxed, my head lolled to rest on his thigh. I listened as his breathing evened out. I stood.

“Well,” My voice was hoarse so I cleared my throat. “Would you like to get back to work now?”

He frowned up at me again, stood so fast I could hardly register it. His face leaned in so close to me, thumb brushed my chin and the other hand curled around my waist. I was suddenly very aware of how little fabric covered my body. My skin turned to gooseflesh. He peered into my face with those wide, puppy dog eyes of his. I couldn’t summon any words.

“I’m not through with you.” He growled.

My butt had been pressed into the edge of the table behind me, and he pushed my back onto it as well. The drawing room chandelier was right above me, shining in the sun.

A finger traced over my thigh. He was standing there looking down on me, like an appraisal. I thought about cringing from his gaze but didn’t think I could even feign being that demure. This was exactly what I wanted. His finger moved across the silk of my panties. Our eyes locked, and a smile returned, his nostrils flaring slightly in amusement. I was certainly soaked.

“(Y/n), is this really all you want in exchange for a fortune?”

It wasn’t, but the rest seemed like a hard sell.

“No.”

He raised a brow in question.

“Finish me first, President Snow, then I’ll tell you.”

He shook his head, smile growing even wider. He disappeared from my view as my panties were tugged to the side. Hot breath grazed my exposed sex. An impatient whine slipped from my throat, and then his mouth was there, all there, placing a flurry of kisses all around before licking his tongue gently up my center.

“Fuck, Coryo please, just—“

His tongue circled my clit, finally giving me what I was dying for. My ass clenched, pushing myself into him harder. Hands wrapped around my thighs, roughly grabbing as he began flicking his tongue on my most sensitive part. I let myself go limp. He’d never gone down on me before, and it was like he’d been starving the entire time. He spat on my pussy and licked it into a dripping mess. I felt teeth gently nip at my clit, driving my pulse and breath to quicken.

He was moaning, saying words I couldn’t decipher because his mouth was preoccupied. My name was certainly one of them, though. The vibrations of his moaning mixed with the rhythmic press of his tongue was pushing me closer and closer. The pleasure only increased until I was teetering on the edge, trying to hold onto that feeling. His own noises were so loud I’d have expected he was the one getting serviced. And then his fingers slid into me and I couldn’t hold on. I was a spasming mess, whining as my pussy clenched around his fingers. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, feel it everywhere else.

When I opened my eyes, Coryo was fastening his pants, wiping wetness from his chin.

“Well?” He inquired, without looking my way.

I pushed myself up, didn’t want us to be too different in height. In fact, I think sitting on the table leant me an inch or two. On the floor below me, I saw a dark spot on the carpet. He’d cum a second time while buried in my cunt.

“Coryo, what’s that thing you always say, about Snow? About your family?”

His blue eyes fell on me, bright and intense.

“Snow lands on top.”

I quirked my head to the side. “I want that, too. So I’m not asking for release. I’m asking you to make me a Snow.”

The corners of his lips turned up but his brows creased, wary. He returned to the place between my legs, this time holding my face, searching it.

“You want me to marry you?”

And l knew exactly who he was, so I capitalized on the moment. “I want to belong to you, President Snow.”

The ocean in his eyes caught fire.

Xx

[works-of-fanfiction]

Kiss and Make Up || Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Summary: With the couple on a break, it’s hard for Daniel to see Y/N, especially when she’s looking so good in his favourite dress.

Song: Kiss and Make Up - Dua Lipa & BLACKPINK

Warnings: 18+ oral (f receiving), unprotected sex. A little bit of swearing.

Word Count: 3.6k

a/n: I think (???) I’m getting a little better at writing smut. one day I swear I will write one without giggling after every sentence. enjoy!

Daniel's blood boils as he watches her, watches his girl at the centre of attention of his fellow drivers. He wants to be angry at her for entertaining them in the first place, but he's angrier at his so-called friends for gawking at her and passing off their obvious flirting as 'just being nice'. It's annoying because she knows she looks good - incredible, in fact - an emerald green satin dress hanging perfectly on her body, displaying just enough leg to be considered dangerous. It bothered him even more that he chose that particular dress, and now she was parading around in it for everyone to see; for everyone to stare and drool over her. He didn't like it one bit, but he didn't have a choice. 

It was his fault that they were on a break. He'd lashed out, said horrible things. Tension had been brewing between them for a couple of weeks and she could sense he was about to burst. She hadn't done anything wrong; he could see that now. He'd had more than enough time to sit with his thoughts and come to regret everything he'd said, but she hadn't been interested in hearing his apology. At first, in his anger, he'd blamed her friends. He was convinced their influence had led her to her decision, that they'd been whispering in her ear and plotting against him for some time. However, deep down he knew it was nobody's fault but his own. 

The 'will he, won't he' situation at Alpha Tauri had gotten the best of him. His overwhelming desire to race took up all of his attention, leaving Y/N completely on the sidelines. She'd understood, of course she had. Racing was Daniel's dream and she knew how important it was for him to find a seat and get back out on the track, but when things seemed to get difficult and look uncertain, Daniel directed his frustrations towards her. 

"You're a fucking coward, d'you know that? Who are you to stand here and speak to me like that?" 

"Oh, drop the bigger person act, Y/N. It wasn't too long ago that you were going through a rough time and - " 

"Don't you fucking dare. You know that doesn't compare to the way you've been behaving. It is completely different." 

"You know how important this is to me. Sorry, but I think I'm allowed to be a little stressed." He held his hands up in mock surrender which only irritated her further.

"A little stressed, yes. A total asshole? No." 

"Where are you going?" He asked, watching her scoop up her phone and keys from the counter and stuff them into her pocket.

"Anywhere you are not. I can't be around you when you're like this, Daniel." Her voice cracked as she turned away, but she didn't allow him to see her cry. He may not have approved of her being the bigger person, but it's what she had to do. A text a couple of hours later confirmed her need for space, and after spending thirty straight minutes trying to type a response, Daniel realised he had to respect her wishes.

“Here.” Max interrupts, sliding a drink into Daniel’s hand.

“What’s this?”

“I couldn’t stand and watch you stare at her any longer. At least with a drink in your hand you actually look like you’re at this party and not just a creepy stalker.” He chuckles into his glass, the joke going over Daniel’s head, not even bringing the slightest smirk to his lips.

Max gulps, wincing a little at the strength of his drink. “Just go talk to her.” He says, eyes flicking between his friend and Y/N.

“I can’t. She wants space and I have to respect that.”

“Yeah, but anyone can see you’re not okay with that…”

Daniel knew Max had a point. As much as he wanted to give Y/N the space she needed and do everything he could to fix their relationship, he hated being away from her. He hated sitting across the room whilst she pretended he wasn’t there. She hadn’t looked at him once throughout the entire evening and it was starting to aggravate him. He needed to talk to her, even if it was just to find out how she was doing. He didn’t even know if that was a question he had the right to ask, but he wanted to anyway.

Plus, the way she was strutting around in those heels and playfully fixing her hair every few minutes was driving him insane. His eyes couldn’t resist following the trail from her feet, up her legs and to her hips. If she so much as leaned over the bar or stretched to grab something, he’d see beneath the thin green satin and hopefully find out she was wearing tiny, or perhaps no underwear.

He fidgets uncomfortably in his seat, setting his glass down on the table before his knuckles turn white from gripping it so tightly. As Y/N takes Carlos’ hand and twirls beneath his arm, Daniel jumps up from the stool, holding onto the table to steady his feet. “Hey, come on. You know they’re good friends.” Max warns, holding an arm out to try and stop him.

“Make your mind up, Max. You told me to go and talk to her.” He doesn’t even look at Max as he speaks, as his gaze remains fixed on Y/N whilst she dances with the Ferrari driver. There’s nothing suggestive between their dance, and it’s not the first time Daniel has seen them together like this, but he’s suddenly not as comfortable with it as he usually is.

“I think you should calm down a bit first.” Max tries to be stern with the older driver, but he knows his words are going through one ear and straight out the other side. Daniel glances at the Dutchman and gives only a second of thought to his words, then chooses to ignore them entirely.

Stepping past Max’s arm, he makes his way into the crowd and closer to Y/N. Mid-conversation, Charles and Pierre’s heads turn to the Australian as he weaves around clumsy partygoers, almost parting the room in two to get through. The two of them shuffle closer to the bar to get a better view as he reaches Carlos and places a hand on his shoulder.

“Can I cut in?” He asks, once again not bothering to look at who he’s speaking to. Instead he looks down at Y/N, who glares up at him with cold, unblinking eyes.

“Sure.” Carlos mutters, stepping aside, failing to notice Y/N tightening her grip on his hand to try and stop him. Daniel takes his place, his hands awkwardly hovering near her waist.

“Are you going to wrap your arms around me, or just stand there?” She asks abruptly, her tone coming out a lot more aggressively than she’d intended.

Daniel’s hands find her waist and pull her closer, making sure no one else can hear their conversation. Her hands are pressed against his chest awkwardly, all attention concentrating on her feet so she doesn’t fall.

“What do you want, Daniel?” She sighs, exasperation and downright exhaustion evident in her voice. This makes Daniel’s stomach turn and part of him wants to fall to the ground and beg for her forgiveness. He never thought he’d see the day when he’d be the one to make her feel like this. She was disappointed in him, and he was kicking himself for ever uttering a bad word to her.

“I need to apologise - “

“No, you just needed to get me on my own away from the guys.”

Her icy tone catches him off guard, but he feels he deserves it. As much as he’s desperate to finally apologise, he can’t deny that seeing her spending her night with everyone but him was making him jealous. He’d watched her friendships with the drivers blossom over time, especially Carlos and Lance, yet seeing their arms around her and smiles aimed in her direction tonight drove him crazy.

“Am I wrong?” She mocks, reluctantly wrapping her arms around his neck for the sake of her own comfort.

Daniel chooses not to answer, which is an answer in itself. She sniggers, looking off to the side to see the group all engaged in conversation with one another. She knows they’re all putting on an act and pretending not to eavesdrop. Those drivers love a gossip just as much as the next person.

“I don’t like seeing you with them.” Daniel finally admits, his voice low. He doesn’t intend for the entire grid to know his business.

“It’s never bothered you before.”

“Well this time is different.”

“How?”

“Because you’re not speaking to me.”

“And whose fault is that?”

Silence falls between the couple, Y/N’s hold around Daniel’s neck loosening. He reaches up and grabs her hands, readjusting them and holding her wrists tightly. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” She asks, glaring up at him, a devious smile poking at her lips.

“Don’t try to walk away from me.” He lets go of her arms, letting them float down to her sides as he leans in close, lips pressed against her ear. “Especially not when you’re dressed like that.”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes at his words. A poor and sorry attempt at winning her back, yet completely expected from Daniel. “You think sex is going to fix this?”

“Who said anything about sex?” He plays dumb but she sees straight through him. That had always been a thing in their relationship; they were both terrible liars, or rather couldn’t lie to each other as the other could always spot it.

Stepping back, she calls over to Kika who’s stood between Pierre and Charles, tracing circles around the rim of her glass. “Bathroom.” She smiles and Kika nods, slipping away from the table.

Daniel sees this and steps forward, blocking Kika’s path. “Actually, she doesn’t need you to go with her.”

“Daniel - “ Y/N snaps, cut off by his arm linking with hers and pulling her in the direction of the bathrooms.

“Come on.” He barges through the doors, squeezing the two of them into the first stall and turning the lock.

“I can’t believe you just spoke to Kika like that.” She whispers angrily, yanking her arm out of his grasp.

“She’ll get over it.”

“Pierre won’t.”

Y/N folds her arms over her chest, leaning against the flimsy cubicle as Daniel’s eyes wander around the small space. She sighs, heels scraping against the ground as she stands back up straight. “Well you got me here. What do you want?”

“You know what I want.”

“Actually, I don’t. Did you bring me in here to apologise… or was there something else?” There’s a shift in her tone and a look in her eye that Daniel instantly recognises. He knows she’s still angry at him, but sees there’s a part of her that wants him just as much as he wants her.

Sparing her a proper response, he slips a knee between her legs and pushes her against the wall. It shakes a little, encouraging a small smile to appear on her face. “You disappoint me, Ricciardo.” She purrs, running a perfectly manicured finger across his jaw.

“Something tells me you’re not so disappointed.” He grinds his knee upwards, pressing it against her clothed pussy. She groans, body slumping forward in pleasure. He catches her with his chest, pushing her back up, keeping her upright against the wall. “Does that sound like the moans of a disappointed woman?”

“Shut up.” She hisses, delicate fingers wrapping around his throat to pull him in for a kiss. Daniel moans, the sound strangled as her nails dig into his neck. The kiss is entirely in her control as she holds him in place, squeezing his throat just enough to make his breath hitch. She draws back, sucking his tongue between her lips and letting it go with a quiet popping sound.

“If we do this, it doesn’t magically fix anything.” She breathes, releasing her grip on him to rest her hand on his chest.

Daniel is smart enough to know better, and knows that hasty sex in a bathroom stall isn’t going to mend all of their problems, but he’s too turned on and fuelled by liquid courage to care. Running his hand over the top of hers, he links their fingers and flips her around to face the wall, pressing her palm flat against the cold wood. She yelps in surprise as he uses his free hand to hike her dress up. He’s delighted to see the black lace that’s barely covering her, and he hooks his forefinger through the waistband to pull her ass towards him. “Planned on getting lucky tonight, huh?” He taunts, his fingers tracing the patterns in the lace.

“I was hoping one of the guys would take me home.” She quips sarcastically, bending over more and grinding her ass against his hand. Daniel groans, letting go of her hand so he can use both freely. He grabs her ass and spreads her legs, his mouth falling open at the sight of her pussy peeking through her underwear.

Wasting no time, he drops to his knees and pushes the thin string to the side, giving him full access to the part of her he needs the most. Feeling his hot breath against her exposed cunt, she gasps, parting her legs even further. “That’s it.” Daniel hums, taking his middle finger and running it slowly through her folds. Y/N’s legs quiver as he touches her, barely inserting a finger as he concentrates on circling her pussy and feeling just how soaked she is. His finger eventually finds its way to her clit, flicking gently against the swollen bud, making her whole body twitch with arousal.

She moans his name, the word elongated on her tongue. He stops for a second, lying his hand flat against her core. “Shh… You don’t want people hearing us now, do you?” He whispers.

Squeezing her eyes shut and biting her lip to suppress any further sounds, Y/N nudges Daniel with her leg, urging him to continue. Instead, he grabs her thighs and pulls her closer to him, her feet sliding along the slippery tiled floor. “Let me taste you, baby.” The sound of his voice disappears between her legs, her thighs almost cupping his cheeks as he finds her clit with his tongue. The tip of his tongue swipes across her clit, slowly then repetitively in a rhythm. His hands hold onto her thighs tightly, his fingers leaving indentations in the supple skin.

Y/N sinks her teeth into the back of her hand, trying her best to stay quiet. Saliva and bite marks cover the spot just above her wrist whilst Daniel buries his head further and laps up her pussy like a starving animal. His nose pokes between her folds, and the newfound friction elicits a heavy exhale from deep within her chest.

Desperate to keep that nose she loves so much as close to her as possible, she reaches behind to grab Daniel’s head and guide him to the perfect spot. Fingers tangling in his hair and clutching at the roots, she rides his face, relishing in the feeling of his tongue flat against her clit, and the tip of his nose pressing into her. Daniel holds his breath as she ruts her hips against his face, gripping her thighs until it hurts. She winces, tensing the muscles as she rests her forehead against the wall, teeth still gnawing on her hand. He grunts, the sound sending a vibration to her clit and throughout her entire body, making her knees buckle beneath her. He catches her, supporting her body with his hands alone as he delves his face deeper to suck her clit into his mouth.

Losing all sense of caring, Y/N lets her hand fall free from her lips, releasing a stifled moan that echoes around the bathroom stall. Her thighs squeeze together involuntarily as she comes, and Daniel has to prize them open to set himself free. He stands, hands fumbling with his jeans as he sloppily lays kisses on the back of her shoulder, his chin still slick with moisture, so much so that Y/N can smell her own scent filling the air.

“What did I tell you about staying quiet?” Daniel whispers, his lips barely touching the back of her ear.

“I’m sort of sick of you telling me what to do.” She retorts, attempting to hide the shakiness in her voice. Daniel rolls his eyes, trying to ignore her words as he pushes his jeans and boxers down his legs, leaving them bunched around his ankles. He knows she’s not just talking about the present, but he’s too desperate to feel her wrapped around his cock to let it bother him. He hasn’t been able to touch her for weeks, and seeing her spread wide for him like this is enough to almost push him to the edge already.

Hands gripping her dress around her waist, he pulls her towards him, sliding his cock inside her effortlessly. Mutual gasps of pleasure and hissed curse words slip off of their tongues as he bottoms out inside of her, his clammy hands losing grip of the satin. Reaching round to grab her arms, he crosses her wrists and holds them behind her back, forcing her cheek against the wall to support her upper body. There’s an aggression to his actions, one hand holding her wrists and another snaking its way into her hair. Tugging her head back, he leans forward, his face beside hers. She looks at him through her peripheral vision, a smug smile on her face as she notices his slack jaw and half-lidded eyes. Daniel was never truly in control when it came to Y/N. The effect she had on him was dangerous and made him want to do things unimaginable. All she had to do was look at him a certain way and he’d literally and figuratively drop to his knees for her.

Daniel’s slow thrusts tell her that he doesn’t plan on lasting very long. Despite his tight hold on her and rough fingers in her hair, his hips roll in leisurely circles, the tip of his cock stroking her g-spot in a deliciously torturous rhythm. The restroom door creaks, a collection of footsteps clattering along the floor outside. With shadows passing the stall and voices filling the space, Daniel drops his hand from Y/N’s hair, instead using it to cover her mouth and keep her quiet. She tilts her head, sucking his forefinger into her mouth, her tongue wet and warm and making Daniel’s cock twinge inside of her. He moans, trying to swallow the sound so nobody will hear.

Daniel’s wet finger trails out of her mouth and down her neck, drawing a line of her own saliva along her throat. Wrapping his arm across her upper body, he holds her close as he fucks her, the heat between them making his shirt stick to his chest. Beads of sweat run down the back of Y/N’s neck and under her dress. Even beneath the harsh bathroom lighting, her skin glistens and looks good enough for Daniel to taste, to lick clean.

Voices gather at the sinks, water running and paper towels unravelling from the holders. Daniel silently prays for them to hurry up and leave, the feeling of Y/N’s pussy clenching around his dick becoming too much to bear. The muffled sounds of the music outside briefly fill the room, before disappearing behind the door. He releases his breath with a long groan, his body slumping against hers. “Finally.” He hisses, stepping back and pulling her ass with him, bending her into a perfect L-shape.

Relieved to be alone again, their pants and moans circle around the stall as Daniel drives his hips back and forth, quickening the pace. His firm grip on her ass cheeks leaves little white outlines around his fingers as he coaxes himself to climax. Hearing the sweet sounds coming from her mouth sends him over the edge, his thighs stiffening as he comes inside her, his body jolting forward in ecstasy. She straightens, resting her body against the wall with Daniel pressed against her back, his sweaty forehead slumped onto her shoulder. He pulls out with a huff, his cock leaking with cum and legs feeling sore.

Y/N readjusts and pulls her dress down, smirking to herself as she feels cum drip out of her and pool inside her underwear. She runs her hands through her hair, hoping she looks presentable as she turns to face Daniel. He zips his jeans and smiles at her, but doesn’t earn a smile back. “I told you, this doesn’t change anything.” She states flatly, reaching for the lock. He stops her, taking her hand in his.

“Come home with me.” He pleads, running his thumb softly over her knuckles, a stark contrast to the way he’d touched her just a few minutes prior.

“You’re kidding, right?”

Daniel’s expression remains serious. He opens his mouth to repeat himself, but she cuts him off with a defeated sigh. “Fine. But we leave now. I don’t need to be dealing with questions.”

“Deal.” He smiles, earning an eye roll from her as she unlocks the door and heads out, her heels clicking against the tile. He follows close behind, the satisfied grin never leaving his face.

[cocteaucherry]

co!worker nanami x reader

cws-perv nanami, pillow humping, masterbating (m), nanami being just pathetic overall, not proofread

(a/n- silly thing I wrote a few weeks ago

co!worker nanami who physically can’t be around you for too long.

It’s almost like an allergic reaction, his throat starts to close, his heart rate intensed and his skin turns a bright plush pink.

“Nanami-san! Do you think you can read through these papers for me?”

This was only one of the few times you ever spoke to him and Nanami automatically perked up.

“Y-yeah! No problem!” Smoothe he thought to himself mentally hoping he could take that out of the air.

“Great, just let me know!”

He watched you walk away, his eyes drawn to the sway of your hips and the way your pencil skirt hugged your ass

Nanami felt like- no WAS a perv for you and he didn’t appreciate his mind at all, you were a kind, classy person he didn’t need his mind to defile your image.

He felt the forbidden twitch his his slacks causing him to readjust his waistband, “fuck..” he whispered to himself glancing at the clock, he could last a few more hours only one more interaction with you.

You eventually came to get your paperwork back and his small talk mad wasn’t horrible just a few ‘no problems’ and ‘yeses’

When six pm hit his watch he was already packed up and ready to go, he made his way to the elevator strangely no one else was heading towards the elevator.

He was ready to finally exhale before he heard your voice, “Hold the door please!” Without thinking his hand stuck through the crack of the door it automatically opening to reveal your flushed face,

“Not now not now..” he scolded his mind immediately bringing his suitcase to cover the very apparent bulge in his slacks.

“Thank you Nanami-San! So any plans tonight?” You asked, stepping into the elevator as the first floor button dinged.

planning on fucking my pillow and hand thinking of you

The door closed and nanami cleared his throat, “Just gonna relax like usual,”

“Ah, forgive me for asking personal questions, how come you never go out drinking with us on Friday’s?”

Truth be told he never cared much for drinking with his colleagues but he’d surely change his opinion if you invited him.

“Never am interested, I don't choose to see anyone from my workplace during off hours.”

“Well I guess I can understand that, I’ll see you tomorrow I guess!” That damn smile you put on your face was too much, God he was such a freak.

“F-fuck..” the bed continued to creak under his movements as he thrusted into his folded pillow, his hands gripped the sides of the pillow imagining it was your plush hips and not this damn pillow.

He shut his eyes trying to imagine your intoxicating scent in that elevator, precum oozed into his pillow as he picked up the half finished bottle of lube squirting it onto his weeping cock.

Yup his pillow was done for sure.

“Damnit, keep fucking me- keep fucking-“ he grabbed his cock focusing on stroking only his top and giving his balls a tight squeeze.

A guttural groan came from his lips as he hunched over his abs clenching as he felt his hot seed spill onto his abs and his pillow. “That’s a good fucking girl,” he hummed slapping his softening cock on the pillow immagining it was your bruised soft ass.

A sigh left his mouth as he stood up walking towards his personal bathroom, he leaned on his counter staring at himself in post- nut clarity.

Why the fuck was he so pathetic?

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Blue Violet

NAVIGATION || NIECE!READER MASTERLIST

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & Niece!Reader (platonic series)

SYNOPSIS: Trust. It was one of the many things that Simon Riley was constantly fighting a war with himself over.

WARNINGS: Angst, talks of death, blood, gore, fires, trust issues, many mentions from Simon's comic backstory, etc.

A/N: You'll need to read this drabble first to understand the plot!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

Trust. It was one of the many things that Simon Riley was constantly fighting a war with himself over. Who to give it to—who he could believe wouldn’t put a knife into his gut or a bullet through his skull with little more than words shared. 

Washington. Sparks. All that they had done….they’d ruined what little was left of his mind along with Roba’s torture. But Simon had already explained it before. 

You can’t break something that was already broken a long time ago.

So, trust. 

Trust. 

It was easier said than done, but he was working on it. One-Four-One helped somewhat, but perhaps the one person who showed him that he could try to fix his own head was you. Tommy and Beth’s little daughter. Simon’s niece, who was now under his guardianship. You were the only one to survive the brutal murder of his entire family on that cold night, hidden away; a baby asleep without knowing about the blood staining the hardwood of the living room.

How does he explain to you that you were one of the few things keeping him from slipping off that edge? Easy. 

He doesn’t. 

Simon was never good with words, and soon, the trust of his fellow soldiers was going to be forced to a near breaking point. 

“Who’s the guy with the mohawk?”

“Oh, bloody fuckin’ hell.”

You’re talking up a storm to Sergeant MacTavish, asking him what he does, what he specializes in, what he thinks of your Uncle and his horrible jokes—Simon glares at him, looming above your figure like a bear with his arms crossed. 

Realistically, it wasn’t Johnny’s fault he was just at the wrong place at the wrong time, but hell if it didn’t make Ghost nervous. No one besides Price knew about you, and for good reason. Simon couldn’t take the thought of you getting dragged into this. 

Johnny’s face is tight, eyes darting from you up into Simon’s deep browns every so often as if the Lieutenant was about to snap. Though, you were quick to point it out.

“Simon,” you huff over your shoulder, the man carrying the grocery bags in his arm. “Stop trying to light him on fire.”

“M’not,” his glare doesn’t loosen, and you wonder if he’d even blinked from the moment you had dragged him over to say hello to the Sergeant. 

“That’s the same look you give me when I sneak out to the corner store to buy snacks.”

Johnny blinks in confusion, reaching a hand back to itch at his skull while his pack of Irn Bru is still swinging from the other. 

Simon grunts. “An’ if you’d stop fuckin’ doing it, I’d stop lookin’ at you like that.”

The Sergeant graciously interrupts.

“Nice seein’ you, Lt.” Cobalt eyes blink as he clears his throat, looking down at you. “And..uh…”

You cheerily give your name, sticking out a hand and adding on easily, “Simon’s niece!”

Trust, Simon reminds himself, jaw clenching from under his balaclava. 

Johnny chuckles, lips pulling back in a smile as he gently locks his much larger hand with yours. 

“Good to know, Little Lady. Y’can call me Johnny, just like your Uncle, here.” A glance is tossed Simon’s way as you laugh. “You two live around here, then? Haven’t seen you ‘ere before.”

Your eyes spark, excited at the prospect of more friends. “Yea-!”

“Negative.” You blink, confusion poking your chest like a stick. Simon grabs your shoulder and you’re being paraded out of the doors of the Tesco swiftly. 

“Simon!” your feet pad, skidding. “What the hell, man?” 

The man glares ahead. “What I say about the shitty language?”

You shift out of his grip, flailing an arm with an annoyed huff stuck on your lips. 

“You’re embarrassing, you know that? I wanted to talk to someone you work with!” Brown eyes swirl with dull amusement, and you can see his smirk from under his face covering as he continues walking forward down the street. “Why did you do that?”

“We don’t need people knowing where we live, yeah? Bloody give the address away while you’re at it. Only thing worse would be givin’ ‘em the keys.” You know there’s some life lesson hidden in this somewhere—some cautionary tale that you have no interest in learning from a ghost. 

But Johnny had seemed nice, and it was hard to make friends when you two were always moving. Much less one of the men who worked with your uncle.

“Simon,” you growl and hurry after, Johnny left alone in the building blinking at the doors. The highly confused Sergeant shakes his head and mutters under his breath with a growing headache. 

“Imagine that.”

A shocked chuckle spills out, and he slowly heads to the check-out aisle.

When you and your Uncle get back to your flat, you still have layers of steam coming out of your ears, even as you get told to help put the food away. You grasp the bag of crisps and toss them to the counter, Simon sliding you a side glance as he washes his hands. 

Flicking off the water droplets, he huffs. 

“You’ll break ‘em.” Your lips stay firmly shut until many minutes later. 

“Why don’t you trust people?” By now supper had been started, your body standing in the doorway as you had fought on whether to go to your room or stay here and talk. Your own stubborn nature held out; you often thought you got that from Simon if no one else. 

The man in question freezes as he is about to open the fridge, eyes staring blankly at the metal ahead of him. He lets you continue as his chest pulls in with a bit of apprehension. 

“I…” you stutter for a moment but push through. “I get it, really. I know enough about the whole thing to understand where you’re coming from, okay?” Your mind tells you it’s better to keep the references vague—you love your Uncle dearly, but there are some things that you have to call out when you see them. And you’d been seeing them for years. “But, Simon, I want to be able to talk to people.”

Simon’s fingers twitch over the handle, and his browns shift to stare at you over his shoulder. He blinks. 

“You do. A lot.” You look away, expression tight. 

“You know what I mean,” your voice grumbles lowly, losing that confidence as you push out. “I’m not them.” 

Simon admitted that this wasn’t a new point that had been brought up. He was protective of you and your safety to the utmost degree. You were his family, after all; you were all he had left through this. 

The man sighs under his breath. 

“I know that, Kid. Never said you were.” He turns and walks over to you, one of his hands moving out to grasp your shoulder and tilt his head your way. Simon waits until you look at him and he speaks through his gravelly accent when you do—a line in your forehead. 

“You’re my responsibility. And I—” You frown and turn away. Simon grunts, “Hey, right ‘ere.” Your eyes lock with his. The man raises a brow and his dead gaze glints slightly. “I’ve got a lot o’ shit goin’ on, you know that. Rightly, I shouldn't ‘ave dragged you into any of it.”

You open your mouth to disagree, but you’re leveled with a stare. 

“So you let me make the decisions, yeah?” 

“You don’t trust your teammates?” You’re going to be the death of him. 

“Never bloody said that,” Simon defects, moving back as you glare up at him as he leaves to get more of the ingredients he needs. 

“You implied it.” 

“I did not—” You glare, unimpressed as you cross your arms over your chest. 

“I literally just asked you why you don’t trust people and you gave me a lecture like an old man.”

Narrowed eyes pierce you, and a growl is uttered. “If you don’t fuckin’ join that debate club, it’ll be a cold day in Hell, you hear?” 

The sharp smirk that slashes your face makes him hold back his own, a same mirror image that he can’t overlook. 

“Callin’ it as I see it, Unc.” The look you’re given has you scurrying away from the kitchen, chuckling under your breath, but the both of you know that this conversation is far from over. 

Yet, even after you’re gone, your words leave Simon thinking as he begins cutting vegetables. 

He knew he could rely on his fellow soldiers in the field—knew he could tell Price about you when he had been mulling it over years ago. Garrick and MacTavish had both fired bullets for his safety, just as he had for them. Simon knew that meant something, he wasn’t destroyed enough to not realize that. 

But the more people that knew about you, the more in danger you became. Leaving you here alone was already stressful, knowing that something might happen made his hair stand on end like a dog with snarling fangs. And Simon could also admit that he was moving the two of you around more than he had to, never giving you more than half a year in one flat before packing it up.

His knife slows, eyes narrow, and he asks himself the question he thought of often. 

Is this what Tommy and Beth would have wanted for you? 

The question made his sleepless nights more claustrophobic than the coffin he’d been shoved into. Simon was constantly in doubt with himself about anything outside of a battlefield, and he was sure that wasn’t going to change anytime soon. 

This would have been so much easier if his mum was here. She’d know what to do. Know what to say. 

Simon hums under his breath, eyes far off, and gets back to chopping. 

You both eat at the kitchen table, and you instantly bring Johnny up as you take a bite from your fork. 

“What’s he like,” Simon’s balaclava is tossed to the side, his scarred face on full display to you. You had stopped being scared of those scars a long time ago, but Simon could still remember the first time he’d shown you them. 

Brown eyes look up, the man chewing the last of the food in his mouth.

“Johnny, I mean,” you casually state, but the soldier can see the interest in your eyes. He kept work and home life separate when it came to you. No mention of missions or targets. For you, it left a big black hole in your chest, which was exactly where this was coming from. “He seems nice.”

“Never knows how to keep quiet,” Simon utters, taking a sip from his water glass. “But he’s a good shot.”

You sigh to yourself, putting your chin to your palm as your elbow rests on the wood, fork released with a tiny clink of the plate.

“We should invite them over one time—your team.”

“No.” 

“Simon, please—”

“I said no,” Simon’s face was stern, serious. He doesn’t look away as he speaks to you. “We’ve had this conversation.”

Your anger sparks, flaring up at the refusal of something so simple. Why did he seem to think that keeping you hidden was the best thing for you? Did he not realize that if he let the people he trusted know about you, then you’d just be more safe at the end of the day? 

Who in their right mind would go against the whole of One-Four-One?

“I want to know who you work with,” you snap, one hand clenching on the table as the other is set down when you move your head. 

Simon grunts, continuing to eat as his arms tense. “You will.”

Your head perks. “When?”

“When I’m dead.” 

“I’m not joking!” You stand suddenly, eyes glossy and face tight. Simon’s expression changes from mild annoyance to surprise, head moving like a dog to watch silently as you grow more animated. 

He forgot sometimes that you were still a teenager. 

“I want to know who keeps you safe!” You glare through the sting, emotions finally catching up and tightening around your throat. Did he not see the real purpose behind this? “I never ask what goes on when you leave,” your nose sniffles, and Simon’s eyelids flinch. “I need to know who I have to put my trust in to help you come back. You’re my family, Simon, and every time I try to figure you out it’s like there’s a wall that I have to break through.” 

Trust. 

Your hands come up to brush along your cheeks as the sound of a moving chair enters your ears, your fingers shake before a firm arm wraps behind your head, pushing you into a large chest. 

Simon doesn’t speak as you lightly cry, your emotions that he didn’t even consider existing in this way leaving his heart tight in his ribs. He really wasn’t good at this. Like an awkward statue, he holds you the best he can—eyes staring forward at the far wall. 

“Didn’t,” the man starts as you calm down minutes later. He pauses, not knowing what to say. “Didn’t know that was how you felt ‘bout it. You don’t have to worry for me, eh?”

“Shut up,” your nose nuzzles into his shirt, voice muffled as Simon sighs long. “You’d worry about me.”

He can’t argue with that. 

“...You know why I can’t let ‘em over.” You shake your head into him. 

“You’re making excuses. If you can’t trust them, then who can you?” He’s petting the back of your head, thumb rubbing circles into your scalp as his jaw clenches, crooked nose shifting.

“I do trust them—”

“Then why are you—”

“What I don’t fuckin’ trust is myself.” You stop, blinking quickly as you pull back. 

Your hands push away your tear tracks. 

“What?” 

Simon’s eyes are far away, body tense. “I don’t know if I trust myself to be able to let other people know about another Riley who survived. If somethin’ were to happen to you, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself, Sunshine, you hear?” 

You stare, blinking quickly at your uncle and his larger-than-life pedestal that you’d placed him on. Brown eyes flicker to yours, and the man grunts at your red-veined eyes before letting you go. 

“I would sooner let the devil drag me down right ‘ere than think o’ that.” 

Your mouth opens and closes, struggling to put into words the thoughts inside of your brain. Simon had never been…open with his thoughts about things—he was more of a show-than-tell type of person. Mostly that was due to your age and your separation from all of the more dark aspects of his life. It was good that way, and you’d never complained.

But he was your Uncle—your guardian. In more ways than one, he was the only father figure you’d ever have.

You drag Simon into a hug, squeezing him tightly and wrenching your eyes shut before you can cry again. 

“Why couldn’t you have just said you didn’t want the flat dirty,” you wetly laugh, and Simon’s eyes soften down at you, his arms once more curling around you as his lungs push a huff from his nose. 

“Still can.”

“Fuck you.” 

A squeeze. “Oi.”

“Sorry.” Yet always, you broke the sharp bits of him off one by one. Simon sighs, and in a way, he understands your concerns. They were just like his. 

The man gets to thinking about the two Sergeants, not just MacTavish. They had never given him any red flags or internal concerns—in fact, the two men were some of the finest he had ever worked with; they were promising not only in skill but attitude. 

To go through what they had and still hold smiles and jokes was a feat not many could achieve. 

They were good men. 

And in the case of information leaking, he realized with a slow blink that even if that was the case, Simon Riley was officially dead—he had died in a house fire, his dog tags recovered from the body of Kevin Sparks. Of course, only Simon knew that last part. If there was ever something that happened, someone being captured and tortured, there would be no link to you.

To trust was a dangerous thing, and to be worthy of that trust was even more so.

He would do anything to never see you worry. 

Simon licks his lips, for once in his life making a decision based on no forethought beyond a few measly moments and the weight of his niece in his arms. 

“One time.” You make a noise into his chest in confusion. Simon closes his eyes and grates out, “I’ll have ‘em over one time.”

—

The next day he’s at base, out on the target fields in full gear with Johnny beside him as a spotter. Simon lay on the concrete lookout with the stock of a sniper rifle in his shoulder, the Sergeant kneeling about a foot away.

The Scot speaks unprompted as Simon’s brown eyes blink slowly, gaze steady.

“Jus’ so you know, Lt.,” Johnny’s face is in the corner of his vision, his headgear turned Simon’s way as the man was lining up with the target miles away. “...Your secret’s safe with me.” 

Trust was something that Simon Riley fought a war with himself over. It was a mountain of knives and bullets that he knew he would have to climb one bleeding foot at a time. He would do it, of course. Blood had never made him shy away from anything. 

“I know.”

[shegetsburned]

ꨄ 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨’𝐬 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞

requested by anon!

first of all, he’d need someone who understands how busy he can be and how important his job is. he won’t have a lot of time for you and his mind will always be wandering towards his work, so having a good understanding of his situation will help.

being his type would also mean being able to listen and comfort him during his darkest moments. he goes through horrible stuff every day and if his special someone doesn’t acknowledge these feelings, it might be difficult.

talking about feelings, he barely ever shows them, and his type would be someone that can discern these tiny signs of discomfort, anger and sadness and find a way to appease his heart.

his type would also be someone who likes to have fun. proposing a night out doing karaoke, going to the movies, going out with some friends. basically, changing his mind from everything happening.

being gojo’s ideal type also means being able to realize how lonely it is at the top. he’s one, if not, the greatest sorcerer of his generation. nobody can beat him and he can beat anybody. he’s the strongest. and it gets lonely. you have to be present for him.

having his sense of humour would definitely be a plus. seeing you laugh at his joke would brighten his day for sure.

okay, yeah. he’s kind of immature, in a way. so someone that knows how to handle this kind of personality, as in you won’t get angry because he does stupid shit and doesn’t care about the consequences of his actions.

also someone who knows how to bear with him. i know damn well he’d go days without giving you any news before getting back to you. you’re gonna have to find something to hold on to while he’s gone.

being satoru’s ideal type would include being able to satisfy his sweet tooth. making sure there are always sweets at home and sometimes baking him the pantries that he likes so much.

i feel like he likes someone that’s easily flustered. someone who quickly responds to his teasing and gets annoyed. honestly, if he’s not annoying you, is he really the one?

finally, being satoru gojo’s ideal type would include being as obsessed over him and his overall well-being as he is over you- but I feel like you already check that box if you’re reading this.

© shegetsburned 2023. Please do not repost/edit/or claim my writing as your own.

[percheduphere]

LET'S TALK ABOUT "HE'LL MAKE IT BACK"

Special thank you to @mmobiuses, @starrose17, and @stevenrogered whose gifs make-up the lion's share of this post. Thank you to all the other amazing gif artists as well, without you, my metas won't be possible.

This might come as a surprise to a lot of people, but I actually wasn't big on Lokius until Season 2. I thought Loki and Mobius made a cute ship in Season 1, but that was the extent of it. In truth, I lost interest in the Loki series by the S1 finale and had 0 interest in watching S2. I didn't give the series another try until I saw positive reviews on Tumblr. I therefore started watching S2 when S2E4 dropped.

LOKI SEASON 1

Enjoying the potential love story between two characters is a deeply personal and subjective experience. So take what I say as my personal experience observing Loki and Mobius's relationship.

I fully believed Mobius loved Loki in S1 in the platonic sense. Tom Hiddleston has given a few interviews on Loki's and Mobius's relationship and seems to believe in this sentiment as well [see 5:30-7:30 and 10:57-11:00]).

That is to say, in S1, I didn't feel, "Oh, my god ... he loves him." It was more, "Yes, he loves him", there is no question, his actions prove it.

There is wiggle-room for unrequited love in the S1E4 interrogation scene, but the jealousy Mobius exhibited could have just as easily been a combination of anger on behalf of his murdered colleagues and platonic jealousy.

However, I felt the first hint of unrequited love from Mobius occurred during his goodbye scene with Loki in S1E5. Specifically, this look:

I had no expectations for that look to pay off in any way. Season 2 surprised me.

LOKI SEASON 2

S2E1 is amazing episode because, through subtext, it reframes how Mobius's S1 emotions may be interpreted with stronger evidence for romantic motivation. In this episode, there appears to be a subtle, gradual build-up to the moment that Mobius's love for Loki may be viewed as fully romantic. Let's break down the episode and look at the progression:

First, learning that Loki is at the TVA: *sigh* I can't find the "Loki's here?" gif.

Second, and perhaps the most infamous, the reunion and whole-body support Mobius provides Loki in the TVA War Room (physical comfort):

Third, Mobius bringing Loki somewhere safe and quiet, assuring him that "it's okay" (emotional comfort):

Fourth, Mobius insisting that Loki's condition must be fixed, not once but twice, in two different scenes. A third (writer's magic 3s!) instance occurs in the Heart of the TVA, just before the gangway scene (prioritizing the other):

Fifth, Mobius's admission that Loki's timeslipping looks horrible, and he can't look at it anymore. He repeatedly stresses to Loki how serious this is (emotional and physical empathy):

Sixth, Mobius taking Loki to exact right person who can help. This is particularly significant, because Mobius is the only person in MCU canon who has verbally expressed concern for Loki's physical well-being and took immediate action to stop the pain (act of service):

Seventh, the third time Mobius prioritizes Loki's wellbeing. He scolds Loki and reminds him they have only one shot at getting his timeslipping corrected before the temporal radiation becomes too high (prioritizing the other):

Eighth, Mobius interrupting Loki, insisting that he will make it back. The subtext here is that no other outcome is acceptable or thinkable for Mobius (emotional comfort):

Finally, Ninth, the clincher: "He'll make it back." (self-comfort)

This scene is everything to me. Moments 1 through 8 build-up to this singular moment. Let's do a micro-analysis on it.

After Loki timeslips, the camera stays on Mobius. It tracks him as he kneels down to pick-up the time sick, the last thing Loki touched. The camera then pans up as Mobius rises.

@stevenrogered, THANK YOU for this gifset. It's literally the only one I could find that captures the camera tracking Mobius after Loki disappears, and this is my all-time favorite Mobius scene.

Mobius stands for a moment, motionless, and the camera holds on his facial expression. He's staring at where Loki WAS for extended period of time (keep this in mind for later). He's holding his breath. He's worried, scared, and hopeful, not for himself and the danger he faces on the gangway, but for Loki.

Finally, he exhales as he says to himself, "He'll make it back".

This entire sequence--particularly the moment when Mobius picks-up the time stick and holds it in silence--made me feel, "Oh ... Oh ... he loves him."

The camera stays with Mobius, capturing his reaction to this high-stakes situation for a significant amount of time (@loki-us, maybe you can get this timed starting from the moment Loki disappears and Mobius starts to kneel to pick-up the time stick?). Cinematographers don't do this type of hold unless they want to illicit a strong emotion from the audience regarding the character we are focusing on in the moment.

My insides swooped, which rarely ever happens when I view film or television.

And this camera hold, this pregnant pause, is mirrored by Loki's stare in S2E5:

[changisworld]

Hii, I've got a request in mind, thinking about Hannie but ain't not sure if it fits Seungmin too (that "honey can you bring my towel" scene he acted at that tv show lives rent free in my mind), so it's a first time thing + shy reader + he puts her hand on his hard on (Idk I feel like they give such a sneaky vibe, in a moment you're laughing with him and the next you're underneath him). Steamy make out, dry humping, handjob, whatever you feel more fitting, just pls don't let poor bb with them blue balls 👀

Little note: can I be 🍦 anon? ❤

MY BABY 🍦im so sorry its taken almost 3 months to write this:( better late than never though! i hope it was semi worth the wait<3

i had no idea what you were referring to so i had to go on tiktok n find it n i THINK i know what youre talking about!

Word count;2,760

18+, MDNI SMUT WARNINGS UNDER THE CUT

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.

main masterlist here.

SMUT WARNINGS: PIV, whiny hannie, handjob, fingering(f rec), spit, creampie, dry humping, teasing, hannie & y/n are both subby?, slightly nervous hannie, tit play, slight mommy kink

You're currently sitting on your new boyfriend, Han jisungs bed while he showers in his small bathroom connecting to his bedroom & you're just scrolling through tiktok as he belts out whatever song that's playing from his phone without a care in the world.

You've been dating Jisung for around 3 months but you both have agreed that you can both see it going long term, much to both of your happiness!

You've warmed up to Jisung a whole bunch, being a whole lot more shy before meeting him & he was just as much as a nervous person as you are, but you've both brought out the best in one another. But, because you're both a bit more reserved, you've been a bit too scared to make the first move. You've kissed countless times & he has slipped a finger in once or twice, but nothing else past that, him not wanting to push any more boundaries.

You're just watching some of those true crime tiktoks, sprawled out on top of the messy, unmade bedsheets, not realising the shower had turned off until you hearing Jisung kissing his own teeth & groaning.

"Y/nnie? Can you go into my closet n gimme a towel, I've forgotten mine!" Han yells through the door, dragging out the last syllable & you just hum in response before dragging yourself to where he stores his clothes, towels & blankets & grabbing the first one you see.

"Open the door then Sungie!" you cheer, fingers fidgeting with the material. Jisung slowly opens the door & pokes his head out, not wanting to show anything non PG, he pinches the towel out of your hand but doesn't bother to fully close the door over again as he tries to tie it around his waist before awkwardly chuckling.

"Y/nnie, uh, I usually just.. air dry? after showering & I genuinely have no idea how to tie it like how girls do! If you... don't mind could you tie it for me? Or you can just bring me some sweatpants n I can change in here!" He splurges out, almost being able to hear his heartbeat through the door separating you both.

"You'll just stay damp in there since the steam is hitting me in the face, yeah I can.. I can tie it for you." you reply, trying to sound confident. You give him the time to hold the towel around him & you slowly push open the door, the smell of the shampoo & body wash he used still strong in the air.

You give him a smile & a small giggle, which he gladly mirrors & you take the top part of the towel & tightening it before tucking it in, making it stay put without the need to hold it with his hands anymore.

As you do this though, you realise the towel is a bit of an odd size, it being a bit small despite it being wrapped around his tiny waist, showing off his growing bulge through the tight DIY now skirt he is wearing & you can't help but blush.

"Oi! Don't look! I said I don't use towels I didn't realise they're a horrible size!" as he covers the growing tent under the towel, his chubby cheeks going red as his big eyes look at you & you just laugh but your eyes can't stop trailing down to his now fidgeting hands.

"You're so dramatic Sungie, It's hot in a way, you're so unaware it's funny." You giggle, your fingers pinching his cheeks & he blushes even more before his hands move from where they were perched to swat your fingers away, but as he does so, his towel of course begins to slip & you both realise at the same time, your hands & his hands racing to stop it from falling.

Your hands reach the towel first & you grab it & his hands cup over yours & you both realise instantly, you're cupping over his now even more hardening cock, his own hands keeping you there.

You both look up at your hands at the same time then back up at each other, both of your eyes wide open. He quickly removes his hands from yours, but to both of your surprise, you don't move your hands away.

"Y/nnie, you gonna move your hands or what?" he questions, his voice full of shock. You snap back into reality when he says this & your hands whip away from him, holding them up to your chest.

"I'm sorry! I didn't know you wouldn't lik-" you rush out. "hey hey hey! I didn't not like it, I liked it as much as any other guy would! I just didn't think you would be so bold or ballsy I guess?!" he cuts you off, using one hand to hold the towel around his waist as he is waving the other hand around, trying to get his point across.

You blush at what he says & you pause for a moment, but when you can't really think of a verbal response, you give a physical one instead, & you move your hand to lightly cup him again which makes his hips twitch as he looks at you, his jaw slightly open.

You move your hand slightly, getting a bit of a better feel & he instantly gets harder under your touch & he stutters & you just giggle again at him, looking at his features, watching for the reaction he's giving.

"Is this alright, Sungie?" you ask as you take the extra mini step & lean in to his neck & give it a quick peck before looking into his eyes, smiling at his pretty face. "Y-yeah, can we not do this in the bathroom though? ruins the mood, unless you wanna get back in the shower with me?" he jokes, trying to sound confident despite him absolutely freaking out inside.

You nod your head & take his hand & you both walk back into the bedroom & you straddle him once the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed, him flopping down. "Can I.. remove this? We don't need to though, Hannie." you murmur out, cupping his cheeks.

"Mhmm, please, please please." he pleads before he pushes on the back of your head & he kisses you, his tongue not taking long to begin poking into your own. At the same time, you raise your hips just enough so you can paw the towel away, now leaving him bare beneath you, which makes you think your heart is going to come out of your mouth.

You slowly grind over his cock with your covered core in a slow motion as you deepen the kiss, Jisung letting out a small groan at the contact & his hips buck up when you allow a shaky hand to wrap around his already somehow leaky cock & you begin jerking it at a good pace, his lips involuntarily breaking away from yours for a second, drool completely coating his lips & chin by this point.

"This okay f'you?" you tease, his reactions already giving away the fact that it's more than okay, he just lets out another small whine before moving his head up enough to kiss you again, his hips bucking up into your hand & his precum coating parts of your hand, his tip completely shiny.

You grind down on his upper thighs as you jerk him off, your own little pants swapping between your lips as you get a bit, but no way near enough friction for you to fully get off on.

Hans breathing begins to speed up & become slightly erratic & he moves his fingers from the back of your hair & he rests them on your hips, helping you grind, but not long after, he is fiddling with the waistband & you take the hint, you break your lips from his & take the few seconds to wiggle off your pants, leaving you in your plain cotton panties & Jisungs shirt you stole.

Hi big boba eyes, completely blown out, stare up at you in awe & he sits up, his face level with your covered tits. "Can I take this off too, y/nnie?" he asks & the second you give the okay, he gets rid of it before you have the time to blink, letting out a strained grunt at the fact you aren't wearing a bra.

Once you're left in just your underwear, Jisung flips you over so he is between your legs, leaning over you & he basically has his eyes glued to your now pebbled nipples & he has to bite his lip to avoid drooling all over them & you giggle at his reaction, your cheeks going red with a mix of nerves, slight embarrassment from his eyes burning into you & also love.

Jisung makes his way down slightly so he is level with your chest & he simply admires your tits as his left hand now rests on your inner thigh, thumb caressing it.

"Can I touch you, jagi? We don't need to go any further." he asks for reassurance. "Hannie, stop asking, I'm dying for it, please." you respond, your hips jerking up to convince him. He blushes more than he already is & he lets his fingers trail onto your covered core as he runs his finger up & down your slit, making you bite your lip, trying to not moan too loudly.

"Don't silence yourself jagi, don't be nervous, it's just me." he says in a sweet tone as his fingers move your underwear to the side, happy with himself with the wet spot he caused on the fabric.

His fingers begin spreading your wetness on your slit, making sure to prolong an extra few seconds of attention on your clit before he enters one finger into your dripping hole, a small squelch noise being made from it & your back slightly arching off the bed, Jisung not being able to hold back the smirk now spreading across his lips as he lets his lips latch onto your nipple.

"O-oh shit! Sungie, right there." you whimper, your fingers weaving into his hair as you spread your legs a bit more & wiggling your hips, trying to get his finger impossibly deeper.

He decides to add a second finger as he finds your G-spot & your breath hitches in your throat & your eyes scrunch shut, pulling his hair, him moaning into your tit along with you.

You feel your orgasm beginning to build up as you can both feel yourself clenching around his now two fingers. "Sungie, lie down, wanna cum with you." you whimper, trying your hardest to concentrate enough to speak an actual sentence.

Jisung unlatches himself from your tit & pulls his now soaked fingers out of your cunt, much to his displeasure. He crawls his way to the top of the bed & rests his head on the pillows & you are quick to follow behind him, straddling him again before leaning down to kiss him.

"Can I put it inside? Wanna feel you." He pleads, glossy eyes looking up at you as his hands are resting on your waist. "What's the magic word?" you decide to tease, your fingers reaching down to fondle his balls, making his eyebrows furrow & another bead of precum dripping down his cock.

"Pleaseee, mommy please, please let me." he begs, not being able to stop his ears going bright red as his fingers move their way to your ass, kneading the flesh in his hands as his hips keep buck up into you.

You are caught slightly by surprise by the 'mommy' part of the sentence, but you also know it's exactly something he & now also you're into.

You decide to not let him wait any longer as you're also itching for him to fill you up, your wetness leaving a small slick patch of where you were straddling as you raise your hips & Jisung grabs his pretty dick & runs it over your folds, making you jolt, before aligning himself up with your hole & you begin to slide him inside.

You sink down until you can't anymore & you both hiss at the feeling, him already resting against your spongey spot & the warmth of you wrapped around him making his mind spill.

You raise your hips slightly & then sink back down, setting a slow but pleasurable pace as small moans begin escaping your lips, jisungs eyes completely stuck to you, simply admiring you.

Drool escapes his lips & dribbles down the side of his cheek, his tongue poking out his jaw dropped mouth ever so often as you both share moans.

"Yo-you're so tight jagi, mind is n-oh m, fuck." Jisung babbles, his hands helping your thrusts by moving your ass up & down as his hips jerk up to also meet you in the middle, making you squeal.

You place your hands on his shoulders as you begin to quicken your pace, trying your best to ignore the stinging pain in your thighs as you do so.

Jisung sits himself up against the headboard, making sure to not slip out of you as he settle you both in the similar but different position. You begin grinding on his cock & slowly bouncing as Jisung reaches to begin suckling on your nipple again as his fingers begin to fondle your other tit, making you moan.

"Y-you're filling me so well, Sungie" you whimper as your motions find the best spot where his cock can reach & picking up your speed.

Jisung lets out a loud 'uumph' as his tip hits into your soft spot, making your belly go hot inside, but he can feel your speed slowing. Jisung unlatches from your now spit covered nipple & blows some cold air on it before he repositions you both, helping you lay on your stomach & you lift your hips so your ass is in the air for him, which makes him groan.

"Sungie, put it back in, wanna make you cum." you implore, wiggling your ass in front of him to convince him, which works as he swallows a choked moan before lining himself back up with your sopping cunt & sliding back in.

You both let out a moan in unison as Jisung begins to pick up his pace, trying his best to not throw his head back from the new position & angle, looking down at the way your ass ripples every time his hips hit against it & he can feel his orgasm building up instantly.

You both keep babbling, mostly to yourselves, his pace just right so you can't stop clenching, your knuckles turning white from gripping the bedsheets, your cheek pressed against the bed.

"S-sung- I'm gonna c-cum." you yelp, eyes rolling to the back of your head, Jisungs cock got a white ring against the base of his cock, being able to quite literally hear the wetness coming from between your legs.

"S-me too, clenching t-too much, w-wher-" "Inside, inside Hannie." you are quick to cut him off, rushing the words out just in time before your orgasm bubbles over, your legs getting weak & if it wasn't for Jisung holding onto your hips. As soon as your cunt begins to spasm around him, his own release hits him & his cum paints the inside of your walls white, basically squealing as the pleasure washes over him, his bottom lip all puffy from how much he has been biting it.

He pulls out & slowly helps you lay down fully on your stomach before he lets himself flop down too, straddling your ass & his face level with yours.

You both stay like this, him turning his head slightly to kiss your earlobe, his fingers moving the hair out of your face.

"You wanna get back in the shower then?" you murmur, getting your breath back, chuckling.

"I wouldn't mind that, we are sticking to each other, but I wouldn't mind staying like this." he hums back, smiling to mostly himself as he shuts his eyes, inhaling the smell of your skin, your perfume still a bit faint on your skin after all this time.

"n a mommy kink, Sungie? Who woulda thought." you tease, giggling. "Hey! if you liked it then who cares, its hot." he replies, him trying to hide the slight fluster in his voice.

->Anon list is open!

->Taglist is open!

[psuedosugu]

You know something I've noticed? Yeah, Nifty is your typical yandere but can we talk about Vox? You technically don't even have to request him as a yandere unless you want it to be romanticized toward you and/or further explored because according to ALL of the recent regular Vox x readers (and the show itself), he clearly has many traits of one especially toward Alastor. He acts like a toxic, jealous ex 😂 He cyberstalks people for one, he's manipulative, insecure (this is where possessiveness and jealousy tends to stem from), doesn't take rejection well as we heard from Al, is capable of being obsessed with someone, and an overall control freak. He wants to keep the Vees' image and everything looking perfect. Imagine this guy being attached to you. An absolute nightmare. Never any privacy, eyes and ears everywhere, can teleport with or without a screen, blackmail is 100% on the table as well as other tactics, and constant validation for him whether your relationship is forced or not. What sucks about the last part is that it's a double-edged sword. If you fuel his ego, he's enabled but if you don't give him enough attention, he'll try harder and tighten his hold on you. So while Val absolutely horrible, it's like you can never win with Vox. Not when you don't have equal power and he's stated to be very strong. Especially these days, tech is an absolute must since even jobs heavily rely on it. Life and the afterlife here is much harder without a smartphone. He's literally a TV. He wants to be watched and noticed.

So he'll get it.

exactly brooo

cw: themes of manipulation, blackmail, and toxic, controlling relationships.

gender neutral

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

ੈ✧̣̇ || honestly atp he’s practically a canon yandere.

ੈ✧̣̇ || i kinda talked about this before but i feel like he would manipulate reader into thinking that they need him when its the other way around

ੈ✧̣̇ || as u said, he’s insecure as hell and he needs someone to boost his ego and make him look superior

ੈ✧̣̇ || he also needs some source of stability in his (after) life which is where you come in.

ੈ✧̣̇ || hed also never let things go or get over you.

ੈ✧̣̇ || he started beef with a dude that he hadn’t seen in 7 whole years, for gods sake 😭

ੈ✧̣̇ || bro will start fights over things that happened months ago and are over now done with

ੈ✧̣̇ || he also craves control, not only will he spy on you through your electronics but he’ll also try and control other things that he has no business controlling like what you wear, who you talk to, ect.

ੈ✧̣̇ || if you mention your concerns about it he’ll try and back off, but hes just so paranoid that something will happen to you even though he knows you’re capable of taking care of yourself.

ੈ✧̣̇ || he needs to feel like he’s needed.

ੈ✧̣̇ || he also exerts his control by threatening you with blackmail, wether it be secrets that you told him or pictures.

ੈ✧̣̇ || not like you don’t have a fair amount of dirt on him too, though.

ੈ✧̣̇ || he’d definitely fight a bitch for you, if you’re getting threatened, stalked, and/or harassed by someone (that isnt him ofc) said person better prepare for his wrath.

ੈ✧̣̇ || hes a whiny ass bitch which is either annoying or hot depending on who you ask and what the context is.

ੈ✧̣̇ || its also kind of confusing how he acts, he’ll be practically ignoring you one second and begging for your attention the next.

ੈ✧̣̇ || another reason why he’s so scared of you leaving is because of how vulnerable he’s been to you.

ੈ✧̣̇ || he’s told you things that he’s never told anyone, shown parts of him that no one has ever seen, and the thought of what you could do with this info if you ever were to turn on him makes him feel sick to the stomach.

ੈ✧̣̇ || despite how it feels sometimes he really does care about and love you, he just has an unhealthy mindset when it comes to love.

ੈ✧̣̇ || perhaps you should stay around (not like u rlly have a choice), teach him how to love someone properly. you wont regret it :)

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

i do requests!

check out my masterlist!

[munsonluhvr]

HOW TO FAKE IT (MINI SERIES) (PART 3)

contents: after the horribly complicated trip to the lake, you and Steve have a lot of making up to do. sfw. 3.6k words.

notes: one more installment left! thank you to everyone who has reblogged, liked or interacted with the series so far. i greatly appreciate the kind words and interest in the story. much love!

taglist: @frostandflamesfanfic @johnricharddeacy @yearningforsappho @marrowfrog00 @season4steve @mrssoapmactavish @definitelynotherr @micheledawn1975 @the-fairy-anon @alltoomay @plk-18

other installments: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

The first hour of the car ride back to Hawkins had dragged on, killing your will to live. Your body is angled away from Steve, your head resting on the cold glass of the window. You watch as Indiana farms pass by, again and again, keeping your eyes occupied as you sit in silence in Steve’s station wagon. 

Steve was particularly quiet, glancing at you once in a while, checking to see if you were awake. Each time he checks, you were, you just didn’t want to talk to him, and Steve understood that. The entire night, Steve had tossed and turned beside you, his mind never being able to turn off enough for him to fall asleep. Steve was bothered by how the evening had gone, Tina’s vicious side coming to light. Steve realizes that this entire ploy is a giant mistake, something that he regretted deeply as he stared at the ceiling in the darked bedroom you two shared last night. What Steve regretted even more was involving you. 

Tina’s personality, or lack of, had become unattractive to Steve, manifesting into something Steve didn’t want any part of. When he had sat across from his friends, across from Tina, at the campfire, he felt like an outsider, each one of them people Steve wouldn’t associate with naturally. These people were people he would have been friends with when he was younger and still a bully; these were people who belonged to stay in his past. He decided to let it all go. Especially Tina. 

The entire ride home, Steve wanted to talk to you immensely. He wanted to apologize, to tell you he was sorry for asking you to do such a thing like be in a fictious relationship; how good of a friend you were to oblige, willing to be there for him in anyway. Steve had gone about things all the wrong way, letting things get to a boiling point where you were the one that got burned. 

Another issue that circulated in Steve’s mind was his feelings for you. At first, having feelings for you felt like it was a crime, an unthinkable concept, as if he was imposing himself in a place he shouldn’t be, but at some point it didn’t feel so wrong. Truthfully, being in a fake relationship with you at felt real and easy. You both had a long history with each other, always being such close friends and caring for each other. Is it so wrong to think you two could, or even should, be in a relationship? 

While he left you alone, letting the hum of the car’s engine fill the silence, Steve thought about how he could make it up to you, but nothing seemed like enough. Eventually, Steve turned onto your street, the weekend trip to the cabin coming to an end. You managed to get through the car ride without speaking a word to each other, letting the weekend’s events absorb into your mind. 

Steve pulls up in front of your house, the lawn outstretching to the sidewalk until it meets the corner of the street where Steve car sits. You hesitate getting out, feeling like you have a million things to say to Steve, but you refrain, your energy completely drained. You lean back, pulling your duffle from the back seat up to the front seat and into your lap. 

You glance at Steve, and then unlatch the passenger door, letting the warm breeze flow into the car. At once, you turn as you’re about to close the door, but you feel like you at least owe your best friend a few words. “See you later,” you say, clearing your throat as you speak. Before Steve can speak, you close the door, turning on your heel, walking towards your home. Steve slumps against his seat, watching you as you walk up your front yard to the front door of your house. Once you’re in, Steve starts the car again with a sigh, driving towards his house. 

You lay on your bed, having climbed the stairs to your room with eagerness so your parents didn’t get the opportunity to ask about how the weekend went. You let your eyes close, your feelings and thoughts overwhelmed by the events. 

The weekend had been an experience, to say the least. Steve had become lost in his efforts to get Tina back, and in the process had forgotten about how you may have felt in the middle of it all too. There was another side too that your mind circled around: the indescribable feelings you had felt throughout the weekend. 

At first you had tried to ignore the feelings, they were just a product of your environment, the possibility that you were playing the role of Steve’s girlfriend to realistically and it was starting to affect you. Or were there more to the feelings you were having? You had shaken the possibility off that you could feel more for Steve; if you had feelings for Steve then why had it taken years for you to realize? Steve always had girlfriends, an endless flow of them entering and exiting your life, and you had never been upset by them. Why now?

You rolled over on your stomach, smothering the side of your face into your pillow. Your body relaxed, for the first time in several days, and almost immediately your body drifted off into sleep. 

On the other side of Hawkins, Steve was also laid out on his bed, his arms crossed underneath his head as he stared at his bedroom ceiling. How had he fucked up so bad? 

Steve hated you being upset with him, you and he almost never being in an argument with each other, and he knew he needed to fix the issues between you soon. Steve felt as though there is nothing that would be enough to show his apologies, but he knew he’d have to try. Steve cared for you deeply, his dedication to your friendship is one of his top priorities, and he wanted to never screw that up. He racked his mind with ideas, a headache growing as he continued to think, and before he knew it the sun had disappeared, the sky growing darker by the hour. 

 You sit cross-legged on your kitchen chair watching your mother put together lunch. When you had fallen asleep the night prior, your body was so exhausted that you slept through the entire not, not waking up once. Now, it’s late in the afternoon, the heat from outside seeping into the house. 

“So, how was the trip? You ran up the stairs before I could ask you anything last night.” Your mother asks, glancing over her shoulder to look at you. You shrug, wishing she didn’t have to ask about the trip; it’s the last thing you want to discuss. 

“It was fine.” 

Your mother frowns, angling her body towards where you sit at the kitchen table. “Just fine?” You sigh to yourself, knowing that your mom always knew you were being dishonest. “Just fine. We just played some games and went to the beach; nothing crazy.” You say, shifting in your seat. 

Your mother hums, expressing dissatisfaction at your answer. “Did Steve have a nice time?” 

You shrug again. “I suppose so, yes.” 

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Your mom asks, dividing lunch into two separate bowls. You nod, reaching out to take the bowl from your mother as she hands it to you. “I’m all right.” 

After lunch and dodging the rest of your mother’s questions about the weekend, you stomp up the stairs towards your room. All you want to do is hibernate away in your room, forgetting about the world around you – especially Steve. 

Even though you were mad at him, all you do is think about him. Did he realize how careless he had been over the weekend? You sigh, sitting yourself down on your bed. As much as you try, the image of Steve floods your mind and once again you’re confronted with the budding feelings you have for him. Here you are, mad at Steve yet thinking about him and how, somehow, you’re developed feelings for your best friend. Could there be anything worse? 

Reaching over to your nightstand, you grab the latest book you’re reading, attempting to escape reality for a while and preoccupy your mind. And it works – for a while at least. 

“Y/n!” Your mom yells from downstairs. “There’s someone here for you!” It darks now, the summer days beginning to end earlier, even though it’s only the early evening. You toss your novel to the side, swinging your legs to the other side of the bed. 

From the top of the stairs, you have a good view of the front door. Peering down from the top stair, you see Steve and your mother talking in the doorway. You huff. “Steve?” you say, taking one step at a time. “What are you doing here?” 

Your mother frowns, glancing between you and Steve. Though you didn’t mean for it to, your question comes out in a certain tone, one that expresses your unhappiness. “I’ll let you two talk.” Your mother mumbles, moving away from the front door. 

For a moment, you and Steve linger in the doorway, no words being spoken. Steve speaks up, breaking the silence. “Get your shoes,” Steve says, his eyes grazing down your body until he sees your sock covered feet. “We’re going to see Pretty in Pink.” 

You snort, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “No, I’m not in the mood.” That wasn’t entirely truthful, you had been dying to see Pretty in Pink for weeks. Your mind flashes back to you and Steve making plans to see it outside of Jason Carver’s house only to cancel them to go on the trip. Your heart pangs, wishing you two had just stuck to your movie ‘date.’

Steve rolls his eyes. “You’ve been dying to go; I know you want to see it.” 

“I do - just not with you. What are you doing coming over here acting like nothing’s happened?” You say, shaking your head. You step towards where Steve stands in the doorway, beginning to push him out of your front door. 

Steve looks down at the ground, at his dusty sneakers. “It’s my way of asking for your forgiveness. I hate that you’re mad at me, y/n; it was a mistake to ask you to fake date me and even more of a mistake to ask you to go to the lake with Tina.” 

You bite your lip, leaning against the doorframe, your arms crossed in front of your chest. As Steve speaks, his voice cracks, making your heart squeeze with sympathy. You were thankful it took less then 24 hours to receive an apology from Steve, and to see that he truly seems remorseful of his actions, but you didn’t know if you should go to the movies with him; maybe you just needed a break from each other? 

“I don’t even know what I saw in Tina to begin with, I should have just listened to you. But I’m over it, I’m over her.” Steve continues, beginning to ramble. You raise your eyebrows at Steve’s confession, feeling relief that Steve realizes he deserves better. “Just please let me take you to the movies. I want to sit through a stupid ass Molly Ringwald movie, that’s how much I want to make it up to you.” 

You smile, a small laugh escaping your lips. You look at Steve, locks of his hair beginning to fall out of its hold and brushing against his forehead. His eyes express worry, his eyebrows knitted together with angst. Steve looks up at you, making eye contact. Closing the few inches that separate you, Steve reaches out, his large hand cupping your cheek. “I’m sorry,” Steve murmurs softly. You feel your eyes go wide, your breath hitching at the close proximity to Steve’s face. Inside of you, your core melts, butterflies causing a ruckus in your stomach. “L-Let me get my shoes.” 

You don’t give yourself any time to think about going to the movies with Steve as you scatter back into your home, searching for your shoes. When you spot them, you hold on to the side of the wall, easily slipping your shoes on with one hand. Back at the front door, Steve shakes his head at himself, wondering why he touched your face like that. When he saw your face, he knew he may have let his emotions go a step too far. 

Steve steps aside on your front steps as you enter back through the front door, closing the door gently behind you. In silence, you, and Steve walk side by side to his car that’s parked at the end of your driveway. You want to be mad at Steve, holding a grudge against him, but you can’t help but fall back into your routine with him as he holds the passenger door open for you. 

It’s a short drive to Hawkins theater, your home only five minutes away. In silence, Steve drives you both to the movies, glancing at you ever now and then. His fingers drum against the wheel softly, filling the silence that settles in between you. You look down at your fingers that are intertwined on your lap, the confusion of being in the car with Steve when an hour ago you were so angry at him, and now you sit beside him in his car, makes you anxious and you begin to pick at your nail beds. 

When you arrive in downtown Hawkins, Steve parks in front of the theater. Today, the theater is empty, only a few people linger in the dimly lit lobby. The smell of fresh popcorn fills your nose, instantly making your mouth salivate. 

You stand behind Steve as he purchase two tickets to Pretty in Pink and popcorn, your hands tucked into your sweatshirt pocket. When Steve is handed the bucket of popcorn, he turns, passing it to you. You step forward to take it, noticing that you recognized the boy behind the counter. “Gareth?” 

Gareth eyes flick up, Steve steps backwards with the paper movie tickets in his hands. 

“Y/n? I didn’t even notice it was you.” Gareth says, his eyes flicking between you and Steve. Gareth was a friendly person, but certainly an outcast due to his affiliation with Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson – but you never minded. You had known him since elementary school, and for as long as you’ve known him, he’s always offered you a blush-tinted smile. 

“You two know each other?” Steve asks, his eyes pinching slightly. Steve knows everything about you, you two always spending every free second with each other, and he wonders why you’ve never mentioned Gareth before. It’s clear, to Steve, that Gareth likes you, the way his demeanor changed when he saw it was you. 

You nod, holding the large bucket of popcorn against your torso. “Yeah but it’s been awhile since we’ve hung out together though.” 

Before Gareth can respond, Steve puts his hand on your back, pushing you towards the theaters. “We should probably get in there, thanks for the popcorn, man.” Steve says towards Gareth, though Steve doesn’t look in Gareth’s direction. 

The theater is already dark, you follow close behind Steve, squinting to watch where you step. Almost all the seats are empty, except a couple that sits in the front row, and Steve guides you to the back row of seats. You attempt to get as comfortable as possible, the cushions of the seats soft and boney with age and wear. The seats sit low on your back, creaking as you shift in your seat to settle in. You place the bucket of popcorn between your seats, shrinking down in the seat with content. You don’t realize you’ve leaned over to the left of your seat until Steve places his arm on the top of your seat. He glances over at you, a small smile on his face.  You turn back to the screen, your eyes trained on the movie that begins to play out in front of you. 

In Steve’s mind, his nerves play tricks on him. Generally, he thinks of himself as a smooth, confident guy, never nervous while on dates with other girls. But here he sits beside you, his fingers tremble as his reality sets in; Steve has feelings for you, far beyond just being best friends. Though he’s sat in front of a large movie screen, the silence between you and him, and the darkness, allows for Steve to think about what to do next.

Does he tell you right away; or does he tell you at all? If you don’t feel the same, it would certainly change the whole dynamic within you and Steve’s friendship. Not telling you at all seems like the most viable option but would Steve’s feelings for you eat him alive? Steve sighs to himself, shaking his head gently; no option feels like the right option – there’s just too many consequences. 

Your time at the movie theater goes by quickly, and even though you’ve been dying to see this movie since it was announced, you barely paid attention, your mind was focused on the weight of Steve’s arm against your back, his fingers brushing against your upper arm. 

As you step outside, the chill of a summer night makes you shiver. You’re thankful Steve parked so close to the building; you’re only exposed to the cold for a few seconds. Just as it was on your way to downtown Hawkins, the ride back to your house is quiet, except for Steve when he asks if the movie lived up to your expectations. “It certainly did,” you say. 

Steve pulls back into your driveway, slowing his car to a stop, turning his car off promptly. You know this your que to get out, and to say thank you for going to the movies, except you find yourself sitting in the passenger seat, eyes looking out the window towards the front of your house. Your mind swirls with everything that’s happened today, a small headache beginning to form at the front of your head; you wince.

 “Everything okay?” Steve asks, noticing you wince. 

You nod, glancing over at Steve. His eyebrows are knitted together, a stand of his hair resting on his forehead. “Yeah, I just have a small headache.” 

“It’s probably my fault,” Steve hums, his hands gripping the steering wheel. “All of the shit I dragged you into.” 

You shake your head, turning your body towards where Steve sits in his driver’s seat. You tuck one leg under the other, resting your head against the car seat. “It’s not your fault, Steve.” Steve mirrors your body, turning towards you in his own seat. “You say that but I’m sure you’re still mad at me.”

You sigh, looking out the windshield. Your house is dark, the outside light left on for you, the curtains drift against the summer breeze in the windows that are cracked open. “Steve.” 

“All right, all right,” Steve says, sensing your mood begin to shift. “So, who was that Gareth guy?” 

You chuckle, rolling your eyes. “Just a friend, we were friends in elementary school before you and I met. I haven’t talk to him in a while.” 

“He has a crush on you, you know,” Steve says, his eyes lingering on you. “He got all flustered when he realized it was you.” 

You shake your head. “I’m sure you misread him, we really haven’t talked at all in, like, years.” 

Steve shakes his head, crossing his arms across his body, leaning forward to towards you to rest his body against the middle console. “I’m a guy, y/n, I can tell when another guy likes a girl.” 

You shrug, not bothered by Steve’s observation. “I don’t know.” 

Steve is silent for a moment, building his courage up. “Would you like him back, if I was right about him liking you?” You look towards Steve, raising one of your eyebrows up. “Why are you asking?” 

Steve shrugs, his arms untangling to allow his arm to reach out, his fingers working to brush a strand of your hair out of your face. “Just curious.” You swallow, your skin igniting with heat in reaction to his touch. Your eyes stay on Steve’s, your stomach flipping with nerves. 

“No, I wouldn’t,” you say, surprised that your words come out in a soft murmur. Without much warning, Steve leans in even closer, his face only an inch or two away from yours; so close you can feel the heat of his breath. Your eyes flutter, fingertips digging into your exposed thighs. Your heart thumps against your chest, the pulsing sound echoing inside your ears. Steve’s hand flexes, his hand placing itself on your jawline, the pad of his thumb brushing your cheekbone. 

You find yourself leaning in further, closing another inch of space between you and Steve. Your lips almost touch Steve’s, merely brushing against his. All at once, your mind whirls, the reality of your lips so close to Steve’s, to your best friend. You abruptly lean back, Steve’s fingertips brushing against your skin as you pull away. “I-I should go inside, I’m sure my parents are waiting up for me.” You quickly unbuckle yourself, opening the latch of the door. 

“Y/n, wait-“ Steve says, leaning towards the passenger side, ducking to look at you as you exit the car. You bend down, Steve in your eyesight. “Thanks for taking me to the movies, it was fun,” you say, and close the passenger door before Steve can reply. 

Steve sighs, slumping against his seat as he watches you practically run to your front door. He closes his eyes, his knuckles rubbings his eyes. Steve shakes his head, turning the ignition, his headlights flashing on as his car shutters underneath him. He was so close. 

[dkmbookworm]

The more I think about it, it really isn’t out of the realm of possibility for Odysseus to say he loves calypso. Victims of abuse can still end up loving their abusers to a degree. Even if it doesn’t always make sense. Because there were likely moments where they were able to talk and bond. When he was going through a bad day with his thoughts and she helped him get out of it. It doesn’t mean that he forgives her for holding him hostage and keeping him from his family. But he only had her in that time when he’s at his lowest point.

I think at times that the fandom can underplay how much just being on the island is a torture in of itself. Even without calypso there. It represents a point where he is left only to his own thoughts. To replaying every single mistake, every selfish decision. Thinking through a million and one what ifs that could have kept them alive. Thinking of the 600 families out there that won’t get to see their men come home. Thinking of everything he did to get home only to be here. Like really think about how much that is running through his head, every second of every day. And the only person who you can talk to, who could take your mind off of those thoughts for even a second. Is your captor

“I’m not sorry for loving you” shows that Odysseus doesn’t truly get the satisfaction of being able to hate her. He likely even pities her or cares for her despite what she’s done

He does see her as a friend because of the circumstances they exist in.

He isn’t going to only remember the bad times. He will remember moments on the beach looking at the stars. Learning about her in those conversations. Maybe even finding her funny or charming. Moments of respite from the well of misery that he’s drowning under every single day.

And that’s the worst part of when you see the person hurting you as a person. And he is a monster, so who is he to judge. He has done horrible things in the pursuit of love, and maybe he can recognize that kinship in her.

Don’t forget about how “Monster” shows Odysseus finally going down that path of realization. Rather than it simply stating” I’ll be as brutal as any of my foes”. It starts with him humanizing them.

Is the cyclops struck with guilt when he kills, is he up in the middle of the night

Or does he end my men to defend his friend and then sleep knowing he has done them right

When the witch turns men to pigs to protect her nymphs is she going insane

Or did she learn to be colder when she got older and now she saves them the pain

We can see that Odysseus is able to give a strange level of empathy and understanding to his enemies while he becomes a monster. And there’s nothing to say he wouldn’t do the same with Calypso.

She is a lonely, isolated woman who has been imprisoned on this island longer than he can comprehend. Someone deeply naive and emotionally stunted from her life on the island. Desperate for love and companionship that he is unable and unwilling to give her.

Is it right? Absolutely the hell not. And as detailed in a previous post, still deeply insidious in the long term.

But this is Odysseus after he had sacrificed 6 men to get home, and then the remaining 36 after. Where he is constantly weighed down by those actions and seeing what becomes of someone who chooses to be a monster. To try and play the gods games and fail terribly.

They’re simply two monsters trapped together