#its better than his chicken at least

[grymmdark]

whenever my dad says he's gonna make nachos what he really means is he's gonna put some shredded cheese on tortilla chips and put them in the oven until the cheese is crispy. it's not even a lotta cheese.

[blkkizzat]

COME PUT THAT MILLI★N D★LLAR PU$$Y ON ME, MAKE ME RICH!

FARMHAND!TOJI X BIMBOBUNNY!READER

☼ summary: au. a quiet farm life and a young pretty thing—what more could an ex-con want? you're a bit of a brat, but that can be fixed too. ☼ wc: 4.0k ☼ cw: age gap, panty flashing, voyeurism, brat!reader, fantasizing, spit play, biting, hickies, breeding kink, olfactophilia, teasing, perverted toji, morally ambiguous toji, creampies, squirting, unprotected, pet names: Bunny and standard p in v stuff. ☼ a/n: idk y'all farmhand!toji possessed my mind. literally did this all in tumblr drafts again today. Lets see if tumblr actually lets me post this or cucks me again.

FarmHand!Toji who only got the job in the first place because of a prison rehabilitation program. It was either work on a farm or rot in a cell for another 2 years.

Toji chose the farm.

The work wasn't easy, but Toji couldn't complain. It was a very large farm, secluded and he was paid well—but most importantly?

It kept his fuckin' P.O. off his back.

Toji works on the farm for three grueling months until you, the farmer's niece, arrives for the summer to also work.

Well, 'work' wasn't really the right word, because you never did any thing of the sort.

Barely, 19 and kicked out of your house for smoking pot. Your parents sent you to your uncle, hoping the hard work and the ex-cons he had working for him would scare you straight. Additionally, due to the fact your Uncle had no wife and no kids, the sole owner of a large farm, the old bastard was pretty well off. As the only child of your dad, his only sibling, farm would eventually be left to you.

Everyone (not like you had a say) agreed you should know how to run it.

But the thing is—you suck at everything.

You're too flighty to work with the chickens, too prissy clean the pig cages and you'd complain you'd break a nail just from lifting an empty bucket—so milking cows were also out of the question.

Yet you still managed to get your work done.

Precisely cause you weren't the one doing it.

Aware of your youthful looks and charms, you don't hesitate to use them to your advantage.

Your shapely curves are always clad in some in a thin wispy dress, which would turn damn near see-through at the smallest bit of moisture. Wearing no bra and the tiniest of panties, you were always giving a show.

No you weren't scared of these ex-cons in the least bit.

Evident by the way you flounce around the farm, unabashfully, pretending to do the chores the women-starved prisoners were too eager to do for you.

For their efforts you reward them with smiles, blown kisses and sugary words. Sometimes for rewards came in the form of a peach you would sneak them from your uncle's grove.

Always bringing one for yourself you'd sensually bite into the ripen fruit. Allowing its juices to linger on your cherry-glossed lips and dribble down your chin—the slurping noises are the perfect fapping fodder for them.

Yet the best prize of all—and only if you were feeling particularly generous—a flash of panties.

Toji though had not fallen for your charms though.

Not that he wasn't susceptible to them, hell naw—he wanted to bend your pretty ass over the nearest fence and roughly fuck some decency, along with manners into your haughty lil' cunt.

But Toji, as well as any of the prisoners, knew better than to touch you. Not only were they risking their freedom, with even the slightest offense here was enough to send them back to the pen—they were also risking their lives.

Your uncle was no fool. The older man regularly carried a sawed off shotgun slung over his shoulder, which used to be a pistol before you arrived.

The farmer didn't make it a big announcement, simply reminding them it was prison or a grave if they fucked this opportunity up—but the underlying message was crystal clear:

He'd blow anyone to hell who even thought about touching his niece.

Oh, but Toji did think about touching you—alot.

Often staying up late in his shared bunk room—jerking his cock to a frilly pair of panties of yours he'd stolen off the laundry line—once he was sure the others had gone to bed.

Toji wants to teach you a lesson badly.

Not for your benefit though, it be payback for all your goddamn teasing.

Toji isn't a pushover for you.

Nicknaming you 'Bunny' since you were such a clumsy lil ditz. He often made his silly lil bunny do whatever work he was stationed at when you had chores there—yours and his.

And oh, you hated that. You only tried harder when none of your pouts, provocations and seductions move him. It was pure hell, but Toji had resisted every trick you had. An unintended benefit however, was that he'd likely seen every pair of panties you owned by now (which is why he had stolen his favorite).

At one point, when you were particularly annoying one day, Toji even tried straight up ignoring you.

Yet that didn't work either.

You only upped the ante, 'accidentally' spilling a whole bucket of cow's milk on yourself. The very color of your perky nips are clearly visible, poking through the now transparent fabric which clings to you like second skin.

Staring Toji dead in his eyes, a coy smile on your plump lips as your pink manicured nails rubbed circles over your soaked nubs.

It took everything Toji had in him that day not to force you down to the dirt floor, fucking your pussy open just as hard and flithy as you'd been asking for.

Turning away from you, he threw a hay laden blanket over you and told you to go back up to the house n' clean up.

Toji didn't miss how badly you pouted, even though he pretended not to care. You reluctantly listened to him, leaving the barn and back to the main house up the hill.

You were both playing with fire.

Yet from that point something broke in Toji.

He still never crosses the line to touching you, but he'd starts pushing your buttons.

He wants to rile you up just as you had him.

As a result, Toji is working around you without a shirt more often—sometimes even with a raging hard on in full view. Also he doesn't hold back any longer from any of the vulgar thoughts of you that cross his mind. Regularly vocalizing them with a smirk, making overtly perverted comments towards you.

This was even something the other prisoners were too pussy to do to, given the very real threats of your farmer uncle.

Yet Toji wouldn't be a two-time ex-con he is if he didn't mind gambling with his life for a big reward. Toji relishes in your flustered, indignant reactions, loving to see how your face heats up everytime without fail every time he teases his lil' slut, his sultry voice whispering things like:

"I bet y'er cunt is riper than those peaches, Bunny."

"Bunny—think your pretty pussy can squirt more milk than these cow udders?"

"I wonder if my lil' Bunny can actually ride dick, since she's not half bad on a horse?"

You'd call him a 'perverted old man' like you weren't anything more than just a causal cocktease yourself—obviously you get some sick satisfaction knowing you had every man on this farm but Toji at your beck and call.

In reality, you were just as twisted in nature as him.

Still you were stubborn.

And as retaliation for his resistance, you play all manners of pranks on Toji. Doing anything you could so it was harder for him to do his job—from stealing his work gloves, boots and tools—to more serious ones like letting a weasel loose in the chicken coop when it was his shift to collect the eggs.

You deemed it your right to punish him for teasing you, for not becoming one of your simps and most fiendish of all?

Making you actually do work.

You harass him so often, it's not long before Toji realizes you're seeking him out intentionally.

Not even bothering to visit the other workstations where your chores are, they would get done by your lil'fan boys regardless, in favor of following him around all day like a lost lil' chick.

On a particularly hot n' sweltering summer day, Toji is stuck with the job of moving machinery from one side of the farm to the other when the sun is at its highest.

Like usual, he's since removed his sweat-drenched work shirt—remaining only in unhooked overalls and his briefs.

Toji hasn't seen you though, which isn't surprising given how broiling it is outside. Someone with as delicate a disposition as you, who also happened to be as manipulative, probably convinced your uncle to let you laze around inside the house, away from the heat—and Toji.

But you were a needy little thing, always seeking attention. Toji occupies his thoughts for most of the morning imagining you growing so bored, not having him to harass and all day.

With idle hands and absolutely nothing else to do, you'd start playing with that plump lil' pussy of yours, wouldn't you?

A supple girl like you had to overflow like a dam. Toji would bet money you'd already be wet enough, even untouched, to drench his fingers—just from palming your ripe pussy in his hand.

He wouldn't mind taking more than a sip of you on a miserable day like this to quench his thirst.

Continuing his work (and lewd thoughts of you) until his break, Toji discovers he's misplaced his work shirt.

Searching for it in the heat proves annoying—it's not on the grazing pasture fences, nor in the workshed by the machines. Tsk, he swore he had taken it with him to his last station near the horses.

Passing by the cow barn, Toji hasn't had a shift in there today but he absentmindedly remembers there's was a water hose in there. He could at least cool off for the remainder of his break—maybe even rub one out to you.

However, upon sliding open the Toji's smirk grows almost bigger than the hefty cock in his pants.

Looks like he hit the jackpot, today.

There you were in the middle the of the barn, on your back in the hay, thin dress bunched up past your hips and panties dangling off one of your shapely legs—all while feverishly fingering your fat wet lil' cunt.

You salaciously had even dripped a dark sizeable puddle on the dusty floor beneath you.

But the cherry on top?

You're quite shamelessly moaning out cries of his name, uncaring of who could happen to passby and hear you.

'T-Toji!'

'T-Toji, fuck me harder, Daddy!'

All while your pretty angelic face is twisted in pleasure, eyes closed and nose buried deep in the fabric of his soiled work shirt.

Daddy? Oh how fucking filthy of you—God you were perfect slut, just his fuckin' type.

Solely focused on cumming, your hips thrust up desperately to meet your fingers as he stalks closer to you—looking every bit of the predatory ex-convict he is.

"Well, well look at what we got ourselves here doll....n'here I thought the only degenerates on this farm were us prisoners?"

Your eyes widen in shock, but you don't stop your fingers right away. You were so close to your release before Toji suddenly appeared in front of you, there's no way you could physically stop chasing it now.

Not when it only takes a lingering glance at his dark features, muscular tanned sweat slick body, and the painfully obvious way his dick jumps in his pants to have you falling over the edge. You gush, mewling as you cream around your delicate lil' fingers.

"You've been a very naughty lil' bunny..."

Sheepishly pulling them out, covered in your slick, Toji's eyes zero in on the way your hole still gapes open. You're cunt quite literally throbbing for more, you'd cum but she's still left unsated.

You clearly needed something much bigger and harder than your flimsy little digits.

You unconsciously back up deeper into the bushels of hay around, putting distance between you as Toji gets closer.

"Tsk, tsk, nuh-uh Bunny, none of that shit. Not when I just caught you being such a whore for me."

You gulp, your heart racing as he crouches over you. Toji removes his work gloves, discarding them as he forces you to lay back on the soft hay.

“How sweet of you to prep yourself for me babydoll. But, Bunny, you dumb little girl, you’re too careless. What if it wasn’t me who walked in 'ere and saw you playing with my pussy?”

You didn't think of that, when you had so brazenly snuck up without him noticing to nab his work shirt.

Initially, you wanted to just be annoying to him again, too bored of being in the house all morning. At first you recoiled when you touched his soggy shirt, yet that all flipped once you caught of whiff of his scent.

Toji smelled of a farm but somehow that smell mixed with sweat, musk and notes of his aftershave hit you straight in your cunt. Your panties becoming just as drenched as the shirt in your hands.

You didn't realize Toji, grimy from farm work, could still smell so good.

Knowing it was far past the time for anyone to come milk cows, you headed straight to that barn. You just wanted some alone time, where you'd be free to touch yourself while thinking of the ridiculously sexy ex-con farmhand.

To say Toji had been plaguing your thoughts and dreams for the past few weeks would have been a massive understatement. You were obsessed with him. Him and his irritatingly smug expression, accentuated by his scar that made him appear all the more dangerous—you wanted him to fuck you—your uncles warnings be damned.

"You tryna get me to do more time, girl? Ya know Bunny, I'd kill anyone who touched you, if your uncle didn't get to 'em first."

Your face is hot with embarrassment but your cunt is also burning up—thinking you might die if he doesn’t actually touch you soon.

Letting his coveralls drop unceremoniously to the floor, he shrugs off his remaining clothes.

Toji's calloused hands, smudged with oil and grime, grab your hips and yank you to him. You yelp and his cock twitches even harder at your cute lil noises, smearing pre on your already soaked thighs.

Toji presses his sweaty body onto yours. It's cool in the barn but Toji's heat is so intense you feel like you are out in the sun again. Having him on top of you like this finally is overwhelming your senses. Toji is intoxicating and you're so feral with need for him it makes you dizzier than a heatstroke.

Fuck, you looked so ready for him.

He'd love you take his time to really break you in—make you fall apart until he's screwed every word out of your head but his own name.

Tch—but there's about 10 more minutes left of his break—and a good 15 or so more after that before anyone notices he's not where he should be.

Toji would reluctantly have to make this quick. Snatching your dress off overhead, he tosses it across the barn.

Mouth latching to one of your stiffened nipples, Toji simultaneously bullies his cockhead past your entrance, sinking into your slippery cunt.

Both of your collective groans fill the barn.

Goddamn, you're fuckin' tight.

Your eyes go wide and moisture pricks your vision as the sting of his girthy cock splitting you open nearly brakes you. You weren't a virgin by any means, and you knew Toji was huge—but shit—it was way bigger in thickness and length than you could have imagined.

Toji has to physically take your legs and wrap them around his body so they stop convulsing.

You whine for him to wait a moment but he couldn't—he didn't have the time.

Toji cups your face, unintentionally smearing dirt across your warm pristine lil' cheek.

"Daddy doesn't have time to wait for ya Bunny, can't get caught by y'er mean ole uncle, yeah?"

"*sniffs* I-I know, b-but—"

"No buts, baby—you want me to fuck ya, rite? Then just lay back and be good doll—promise I'll make ya feel good, eh?"

You can't stop the tears that roll down your cheeks, the burning still evident in your cunt as your walls spasm around him. Toji nuzzles your neck, grunts fanning across your sweetly scented skin as he begins moving his hips.

Soon the sounds of wet flesh smacking, resound in the barn with every harsh thrust of Toji's broad hips. The sloppy squelching noises your pussy cries out has Toji feeling like she's talking directly to him.

Sweat drips off his brow and onto your face as he pulls back a bit to see just how well your slutty lil' hole is globbling him right up—you already frothing a ring of cream around his base like such a good girl—like you were made to take his dick.

Your teeth bite into his shoulder and your nails rake red streaks across his back when his fat cockhead brushes against your g-spot.

Instantly, the shocks vibrating in your cunt overtake any remaining discomfort from your pussy accommodating his massive cock. Your tiddies bounce violently whe he picks up speed rocking into your cunt—spurred on by your cute bites gnawing into him.

Toji would mark you up similarly.

God you were so fuckin' wet though, milking him so well.

For all the trouble you gave him your lil' pussy was obedient as hell once she got a lil' dick in her.

"T-Tojiiiii, puh-leaseee k-kiss me, Daddy!"

Slurring, you gaze up at him, eyes blown out in pleasure begging for more of him—for anything he'd give you.

"Yeah, baby, Bunny wants Daddy to kiss her, hm?"

You frantically nod, your whole body is tingling. You just want to feel him consume you completely, all parts of you.

"Heh, of course I'll kiss my lil' bunny—only if ya let me cum ya—m-motherfuck—ya know how long its been since I had pussy this good doll? Gotta cum in 'er."

Mewling under him, you're easily left at his mercy—yet Toji would show you none, devouring you just as greedily as you wanted him to. Your body responds so well to his praises, so needy for them and Toji doesn't mind indulging you when you're being this sweet for him.

Throwing your legs onto his shoulders, Toji raises your ass off the hay onto his knees as he folds your body in half—fucking into you deeper, abusing your cervix as he smashed his lips onto yours.

Truthfully, there's no way in hell Toji would pull out now.

Making the decision for you, the kiss Toji gives you is searing hot. Sucking on your tongue, Toji has you melting you completely under him, your pussy clamping harder around him. His deviant tongue and heavy cock fucking you into submission.

Hell, she was begging him to cum in her even if you weren't or couldn't—you looked absolutely gone—like not even the smallest thought lived in your fucked out lil' head.

Even when Toji pulls back to allow you air his lips never leave yours, biting your kiss swollen bottom lip almost to the point of drawing blood.

You tighten even more than Toji thought possible in the moment once he forced your mouth open and spits into it and your instantly swallowing it—sticking your tongue out for more.

Oh? Bunny becomes such a dirty whore once you're fucking her silly, eh?

Toji wonders what else of his you'd swallow. He'd save that for next time though.

For now Toji had to finish you, he was running out of time. Besides, he was speaking true earlier, he really hadn't had good pussy—pussy at all—in literal fuckin' years. Toji didn't think he could last much longer in a hole with as much wet suction as yours, even if he did have more time.

Slipping a hand between your slick bodies, Toji is now furiously thumbing circles on your sensitive clit.

"C'mon, Bunny baby, cum for Daddy, yeah? Squirt on this dick, just like you did your fingers earlier, doll."

Your body, utterly under the spell of his engorged cock which was currently digging into your kidneys, can't do anything but obey him.

Tumbling over your peak, you do as he asks, splashing fluids onto his pelvis, abs and chest with how much squirt he has gushing out of you.

Your head lulls back and Toji has to clasp his hand over your mouth from how loud you started screaming.

His own release follows soon after. Pumping his extra-thick load, all built up and saved over the years for a pussy as sweet as yours, into your well-fucked-open cunt.

Curses and swears pour out of Toji's mouth as remains side you, still pistoning in you with fervor through both your orgasms. Toji doesn't leave the snug warmth of your gooey core until you squeezed out every single drop he had to give you.

Pulling out, Toji immediately rolls over next to you as not to crush you further. Yet, like a magnet, his needy lil' bunny is curling up against his side, a sleepy sated expression on your angelic face.

Toji hated to leave, but he had to haul ass now if he wasn't gonna get caught.

A crude form of aftercare, but Toji hoses the both of you down.

The cold water snapping you from your lethargic afterglow immediately as you pouted and whined—the brat in you almost instantly returning.

But Toji couldn't just let you sleep ass naked, covered in his cum in the hay for your uncle to find you or worse—another prisoner to find you.

Toji was serious. He really would kill someone if they tried anything with you, he'd taken many innocent lives before as a former hitman—he had no qualms killing some no good convicts.

Setting you upright, Toji finds your dress in the hay and puts it on you. It's soiled and dusty but he straightens it enough so you're at least halfway presentable.

Toji knows you're clever enough to think of a lie if questioned further.

Although, you'd better back to the main house quickly, in case those hickies he gave you start showing up. Toji smirks to himself.

Sending you on your way with quick sloppy kiss and a firm smack on the ass, he lets you leave first.

After waiting a few minutes, Toji exits the barn, grinning devilishly upon seeing you.

You're halfway back up the hill to the house by now, but you still steal glances back at him every few paces. Still panting, you're too shy now to meet his own eyes for longer than a second with your coy smiles.

Toji chuckles.

He had you hooked.

Hah, a slut like you? You'd probably be begging for his cock all throughout the day from now on.

However, Toji knows if he keeps fucking you like this he'll soon get you pregnant.

But ya know? That might not be half bad though.

This simple farm life had been a nice change of pace.

And who wouldn't want a young n' tender cunt like yours to dump in daily? Toji would keep you stuffed full, belly round with his kids and soft tiddies full of milk—for his consumption only.

Toji muses once he had finished fucking the brat out of you, Bunny, you'd become the perfect lil' wifey.

It be good for Megumi to have a mom again and some siblings to keep em busy. Toji would finally have a decent place to raise him too, away from the city and his toxic as fuck family who'd Megumi had been with since the first time his dad got locked in the slammer.

Not to mention—the farm was a perfect cover for his con activities that he couldn't wait to back start up.

He'd only able to do so much with the burner phone Shiu smuggled-in for him, concealing in a shipment of animal feed.

Heh.

All Toji needed now was to knock you up, apply pressure on your strict, God-fearing parents to agree to the marriage, and then orchestrate an 'untimely and unfortunate accident' for your uncle. Thereby leaving the farm and the substantial inheritance to you—and by proxy—to him.

Yeah, FarmHand!Toji planned to become Farmer!Toji real soon.

©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.

☼ a/n: y'all toji be making me write the most twisted nastiest things for him. i realize soft toji just don't do it for me like depraved toxic morally corrupt toji does, i really would let this man ruin my credit fr y'all, he can have it all.

i didn't expect to write this, all in a day but im at the beck and call of my main mans. otaku!gojo and nerd!gero lovers dun hurt me. taglist in reblogs.

☼ comments and reblogs appreciated ‪‪❤︎‬

[malkaviian]

how to realize i've had enough academically speaking today: i started to think about rafael and luca's domestic life, in case they somehow meet and get together after rafael's divorce.

[starseungs]

the subtle art of cliche confessions. ksm.

kim seungmin x gn!reader — as aware as you were that life wasn’t like the fictional stories of romance that you enjoyed, a part of you still relished the thought of experiencing it for yourself.

GENRE/S — fluff, humor kinda, maybe fluffy angst but not really, battle of the bands au, lead singer!seungmin, college au, kinda semi-established relationship • 2.5k words

WARNING/S — profanity for humor, some self-deprecation as a result of nervousness but its not that bad, romance is complicated!

( ✒️ ) a gift for @starlostseungmin for successfully completing her big exam 🙇‍♀️🤍 congratulations lovie, you deserve a fluffy seungmin fic !! the ending may be trash im sorry its 1am and i have class in a few hrs

2024 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.

“Jisung, I think I’m about to pass out.”

The person mentioned comically froze on the spot, his right hand halting from its previous task of double-checking his electric guitar’s condition. Jisung lifted his head up menacingly to look at the offender—who currently looked like he was seconds away from losing all strength in his legs. Despite the concerning comment, life backstage did not stop for anyone. Crew members were still seen running around like headless chickens, desperately trying to keep the show running smoothly even though they, themselves, were already functioning on greater levels of adrenaline than the performers. 

“Oh, no you don’t,” Jisung warns lowly. “Kim Seungmin, you are not about to leave us without a lead singer right now!”

Unfortunately, Seungmin was not kidding. At all.

The loud cheers of the crowd from beyond the stage were deafening. It tells him that the band currently performing before them is doing a great job of keeping the audience entertained. Normally, that would’ve set him on fire to do better; bits of his competitive nature steeling his resolve to outdo the competition. And yet, something seemed to be different in today’s specific battle. 

He couldn’t care less about the crowd—no, his mind was only revolving around one thought. Or one person, to be specific. 

This makes him blanch once again. “I genuinely feel like throwing up.”

Chan snickers from his position near the dividers set up to create a makeshift waiting room for the performers. “Are you that nervous?” He asked lightheartedly. “Don’t stress about it too much, Min. We all know Y/N is going to say yes.”

Seungmin wanted to believe him. He really did. If anyone were to be asked about his natural demeanor, he was one hundred percent positive that the word ‘rational’ would come up at least once. He knew that the chances of the drummer’s words were the most probable—after all, he did his best efforts to capture your heart over the past year. And yes, Seungmin did also know that you had romantic feelings for him. That was why he was in this situation in the first place.

“If I were them, I would!” Hyunjin chirps, happily tapping on his bass guitar. “Imagine getting asked out by the lead singer of a band in the middle of their set? Anyone would be over the moon.” Seungmin merely scoffs in response.

“Of course you would, Mr. Hopeless Romantic.”

The bassist chokes out an offended noise. “Says the one doing a public confession,” he huffs. “Glad to know you learned a thing or two from those romance movies I pitch in on movie nights.”

“Yeah, well this isn’t fiction.” Seungmin deflates on his seat. Any more, and his band would’ve witnessed a person merging with a plastic chair. Wouldn’t that be a great memory to live with? “This is so cliche. What if they think it’s cringy?”

Jeongin, the keyboardist, shoots him a look full of judgment. “Why are you only second guessing this now?”

“To be fair, you both are already cringy.” Jisung stands up from his seat to stretch, only to receive a glare from the band’s lead singer. He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Just saying. It’s a miracle how long you two went on without an actual label. Everyone knows you two have been practically dating since months ago.”

And to that, Seungmin has no retort. What Jisung said had its truths—even he, himself, didn’t know why it took him so long to ask you to be officially his. It definitely wasn’t a commitment issue; he hasn’t even entertained anyone else intimately ever since he met you. There were even nights where he mentally beat himself up for being a coward about this whole thing, only for him to end the torment by convincing himself it was him going through the courting stage with you.

Not that he even asked, but that was what he was doing. Right?

It’s not his fault you always rendered him speechless. Not too much, of course. He wasn’t that starstruck that he’d make an absolute fool of himself. It was just that you made him really nervous and awfully conscious of himself. The way you talked was like music to his ears, and he swears he could listen to you all day. He finds himself wondering if his own voice ruins this fantasy of his.

You had to have noticed his advances as well. There was just no way that you didn't, with how smart you were. He just didn’t know whether to be grateful or frustrated with the fact that you never said a word about it. What if you were actually uncomfortable with the whole thing and were just too nice to tell him. Oh, he should’ve asked. This is terrible. A massive mistake on his part. An angel like you shouldn’t be forced to be with someone like him.

“What if I’m getting ahead of myself and they don’t actually like me like that?”

Jeongin’s jaw drops. “You have got to be kidding me.” He was going to tease Seungmin further, but something about the look on his friend’s face screamed anxiety, so Jeongin was quick to force his mouth closed. “Y/N does. Have you seen the way they act when they’re with you? Heart eyes, I swear.”

Okay, there’s that too. Seungmin wasn’t blind, nor was he dense. If he didn’t think you were interested in him like this, then he wouldn’t have actively pursued you time and time again. He was confident, not someone who didn’t know their boundaries. And fortunately, you seemed to have wordlessly affirmed that he could get close to you over the months you’ve been talking. He was sure that if you had even expressed the slightest bit of disapproval of his advances, he would have pulled away immediately. As well as reassess the situation right afterwards.

Seungmin sighs. “I just want to do this right.”

“And you will,” Chan says. The drummer gives him a firm pat on the back. “Trust in yourself. We’ll also have your back. Go out there and perform like you always do, just that you have your little plan before the bridge comes in.”

All Seungmin got from that was how you were in the crowd. Right, you were in that crowd. The very same crowd he didn’t give a single fuck about at this moment. You were the only audience he needed, and it both comforted and terrified him to remember that he left you to sit in the very front row earlier before the program started. Just where did all his courage go? The bastard who planned a public confession on their campus festival’s Battle of the Bands competition should be the one present to go through all this.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever been this nervous to perform ever.”

Hyunjin hums. “Then that means you really like Y/N!”

“Exactly. We didn’t agree to make a whole new original song for this competition just for nothing,” Jisung adds. “Well, I guess it’s also good publicity for when we actually do this band thing for real. Show the public our sound, you know?”

Seungmin finally begins to breathe easily again. He briefly stares at Chan fiddling with his drumsticks, twirling them around with his fingers to soothe his own nerves about their upcoming performance. After all, this wasn’t just a performance that Seungmin was doing alone. The competition also meant a lot to his other members in their own different ways, yet they still gave their full support to him when he told them about his plan.

He had great friends.

“Stray Kids?” A slightly hoarse voice called out. Seungmin knew the figure as Changbin, someone from the student government. The guy was normally a lot more energetic than this, but he guesses the fatigue must be getting to him from being one of the organizers for this particular event. “You guys are up in a few seconds.”

Well, this is it. Seungmin stands up to get ready, clearing his throat to calm himself. There’s nowhere to run now.

The crowd’s enthusiastic roars never seemed to stop after the previous band’s set ended, and it was beginning to tick you off. Granted, you should have been happy that Seungmin’s band was going to be greeted by a happy crowd, but that also meant that they were subject to pleasing an audience whose hearts were clearly already captured by the performers right before them. And you would be nothing if you weren’t competitive. Biased or not, you would die on the hill believing that Seungmin’s band is better than the others.

They had a national treasure of a voice for their lead vocals, so how could they not be the best?

An amused snort came from your left side. You didn’t have to think too hard to figure out that it came from your friend, Felix. He was probably finding humor in the way your face didn’t spare a single effort to even plaster an indifferent expression. What can you say? You were loyal.

“Alright! I see that all of you enjoyed that wonderful performance from Xdinary Heroes!” The program’s host, Lee Minho, came back out to hype the crowd. It was then that your attention snapped back up to the big stage, your eyes watching like a hawk as Seungmin and his friends settled into the equipment. A bubbling giggle found its way out of your mouth at how Seungmin looked so focused on adjusting the height of his mic stand. “A very unique band name, if I do say so myself. But it does look like the new trend, as all of you here might also find interest in our next band’s name.”

“Seriously,” Felix starts, his tone teasing. “You are so down bad.”

You roll your eyes. “Be quiet. It’s starting.”

“Yeah, sure.” Felix laughs at your reaction. “We wouldn’t want to interrupt your longtime dream of being confessed to by a singer in the middle of a set now, would we?” Your face burned warmly at the accusation.

It was such a cliche thing to happen. As aware as you were that life wasn’t like the fictional stories of romance that you enjoyed, a part of you still relished the thought of experiencing it for yourself. There was a reason why these kinds of events were heavily romanticized in the media—they held their own charm. It just so happened that you agreed to the notion that getting a proclamation of love from a singer on stage was one of the more appealing choices.

Too bad those don’t go too well in real life.

“But it’s—”

“It’s cliche. Yes, you’ve already told me countless times that it’s not as good in real life. But we all have our fantasies, Y/N. No judgement.” Felix shrugs. “Good for you, though. You are one determined person to bag an actual singer. In a band, no less.”

“You are so—”

“—over. Give it up for Stray Kids!” Lee Minho’s booming voice cut you off again, letting you know that the performance was about to begin.

It started off like normal, with Chan using his drumsticks as a countdown before the instrumental started. Except this time, the song was surprisingly unfamiliar to you. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. This wasn’t the piece they practiced when you came over to watch a week ago. You didn’t recognize the song in its entirety either, though it was already proving to be a song that fit right with your tastes. Seungmin’s voice echoing through the space was also adding so much to the experience. 

You let the pride you felt at how well he was doing bloom in your chest. It was great to see him shine after going through the rough process of preparation with him. You watched him passionately go through the song smoothly without any mistakes. From the day you first met him until this moment, you’ve witnessed how determined he was to achieve his goals in life. It was then that you knew you’d always be proud of Seungmin, no matter what. You were already the happiest you’ve ever been just by being by his side.

“Did they change their set?” You asked no one in particular. 

Felix bops his head to the beat, clearly pleased with the song. “Don’t know the song, but it’s great!”

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t agree with him. Though the sudden change in song choice admittedly peaked your curiosity more than it should have. Your eyes found their way back on stage, as if telling you to simply enjoy the performance now and ask later. But it looks like fate had other plans for you, as your eyes immediately locked with a certain lead singer’s.

He left no argument as to who he was looking at. It was clearly you, and you couldn’t help the way your breath hitched at the way his gaze alone held the answer to the question that lingered in your head. There were sparks of electricity being mimicked throughout your body, sending you into a mild shock. Like a scene from a movie, everything else in the world just seemed to go on mute.

All except his voice.

“Before we proceed to the bridge, I’d like to share something about this song. Would that be alright?” Seungmin spoke to the crowd, despite his attention still obviously on you. You could vaguely hear them answering back to him in interest, positively telling him to go on. It was difficult to miss the way his smile grew at this. Seungmin looked so stunning when he smiled. You always felt like falling in love all over again whenever he did.

The band continued with the instrumental, albeit toning it down as their lead singer continued on. “So this song is actually an original from us.” Oh, that makes so much more sense. “And it was written as my confession to the person I like.” 

Wait.

In the fuzz of your brain, you could barely make out Felix jumping up and down in excitement while looking at the scene unfolding before his eyes.

“I’ve been contemplating this for a while, wondering when I’d ever deem it the perfect moment for me to ask the important question,” Seungmin adds. “But I’ve realized that I was just dragging things out too much for my liking. So, to the one who my heart yearns for even through the nerves I’m feeling right now—” You felt overwhelmed at the moment, but you couldn’t seem to take your eyes off the way Seungmin looked at you with such fondness and admiration.

“—Y/N, will you give me the honor to be yours?”

And when your voice sings out the answer, the instrumental starts picking up again as Seungmin finishes the song with newfound fervor. You chuckle your happy tears away, with your friend playfully punching your arm.

“Now, what did I say?”

Maybe cliches weren’t so bad in real life after all.

MASTERTAG ━ STATUS: OPEN — ASK OR COMMENT 🫶

@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @wnbnny @xocandyy @minluvly @moon0fthenight @estellaluna @hanjsquokka @starlostastronaut @minsueng @l3visbby

[4unnyr0se]

❥ apple cider | tobio kageyama

warnings: timeskip! university! tobio, f! reader, she/her pronouns, virgin! tobio, cunnilingus, tit-sucking, hickeys, sub! tobio, cowgirl position, praise, needy! tobio, unprotected sex, hinata mentioned

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 6.2k

a/n: okay yeah lowkey i lost the plot a little bit but its tobio soo... also sorry if he's ooc i tried so hard

❥ song: apple cider - beebadoobee

Biology class was a pain in the ass, no matter what your major was. Whether it was an elective course or required for a biology major, it was god-awful. At least, it was god-awful for Tobio. He needed it for a science credit, and that class was the only one that wasn’t open. And it was a 6 PM-9 PM lecture, which was the greater of the two evils. So basically, he got the worst time slot for the worst possible class. And all because he slept in once class registration started for college sophomores. It's totally unfair. 

But it wasn’t the stupidly long and late classes that pissed him all the way off, no. It was his annoying, stuck-up, sickeningly smart classmate who was the textbook definition of a know-it-all. Literal and metaphorical; you even dressed like one. Neck-length black turtlenecks with round nerd-like glasses and ankle-length skirts in tones that complement your skin so well. He hated you. He hated how you were better than him. And you were so smug about it. Your stupid little smirk would grace your features every time the professor praised you for getting another correct answer. Or when your professor praised you for “Breaking the curve yet again, spectacular! You’re going places.” God, that pissed him off—little miss brilliant, perfect you.

So one could imagine the rage he felt in his stomach when your professor made the both of you stay after class, well after the other students left, chattering about how lame the homework was and what parties were happening on Friday. 

“Tobio, I asked you to stay after because your grades are…less than satisfactory,” your professor pushed up her glasses, gesturing to the piles of papers with his name scrawled out in chicken scratch. “I’m worried about your performance. If you continue on the path you’re on now, you’ll probably have to retake the class. That means you’ll fail three credits short and might have to graduate later than the others.”

Tobio shrugged, shoving his hands in his loose jeans pockets. “I can always take a class in the summer, can’t I?”

Your professor shook her head. “Unfortunately, no. I don’t work during the summer, and I’m the only professor that teaches this biology level. Besides, I know you have volleyball to attend to when you aren’t in class. It must be stressful, dealing with sports and academia.”

Tobio didn’t know what academia meant, but it sounded like school. “So, what? Are you going to tutor me after class or something?”

“Oh, no. As a professor, I cannot help students past my office hours. That’s why I’ve appointed my best student to tutor you until your grades are satisfactory,” she gestured to yourself. “She’s maintained a high ninety throughout the semester, so she should have no problem tutoring you.”

You waved at Tobio, smiling softly. 

Tobio sighed and rolled his eyes. “No offense, professor, but is there any way that I can get somebody else to tutor me?”

“Do you two not get along well?”

“We just don’t know each other, that’s all. I think Tobio is just shy,” you stood beside him. “I promise I’ll do my best to help you improve your grades, honestly.” you flashed him another soft smile.

He thought the show you were putting on for your professor was impressive. “Fine, whatever.”

“Great!” your professor happily clapped her hands together. “In that case, why not start tutoring him tonight? I’m assigning an online quiz tomorrow that isn’t open note, so I hope you’ll score better than 60% this time, Tobio.”

You covered your chuckle with a false cough. His highest grade was a 60%. Oh, that’s pathetic. Adorably pathetic. “Yeah, we can walk to the library. Unless you have something else that you need from us, professor.”

Your professor shook her head and bid you two off, closing the classroom doors behind you. You and Tobio walked awkwardly to the library, his blue eyes glued to the ground below you.

“So, you play volleyball?” you tried to break the silence. He didn’t respond. “Did you hear me? I asked if you play volleyball.”

“Just shut up and walk. You hate this as much as I do. Stop pretending to like me. Our professor can’t hear you. No need to suck up anymore.” he brushed his black bangs out of his face.

You were taken aback by his words. “Okay, that’s fucking rude. Sorry for wanting to get to know you better, jackass.” you played with the necklace dangling from your neck, your eyes darting to look over at Tobio occasionally. He was tall, taller than you were. Built, too. You heard that he played volleyball in high school and won nationals a couple of times, and he was only a college sophomore. You thought he must work out regularly to keep his shoulders broad. He definitely had abs, too, rippling just under the compression shirt he wore-

“Oi, we’re here. Did your brain leave your head or something?” he grabbed your wrist, stopping you from slamming face-first into the library doors. “Watch where you’re going. Next time, I’ll just let you break your nose.”

“Gee, thanks. I feel so protected,” you sighed, walking to an empty study corner. Tobio took the beanbag, and you took the couch, taking out your flashcards and highlighters. “So, we’re currently on the human anatomy unit. This is one of the more complicated units, so I can’t blame you for struggling. One of the reasons I’m doing so well is that my high school offered human anatomy during my third year. I was good at it.” you praised yourself. 

“Wow, really? Karasuno didn’t offer that.” Tobio leaned back in the bean bag, resting his arms behind his head. 

“You went to Karasuno? I didn’t know you were from Miyagi.”

“I thought it would be obvious to you since you’re so smart or whatever.” he rolled his eyes, leaning forward. “Let's just get this over with. I have other shit to do besides getting babied by the class know-it-all.” 

You slammed your flashcards down on the table, shooting him a glare. “Look, it’s not my fault you’re bad at biology. But I’ve been appointed as your tutor and won’t give up on you just because you’re mean to me. I’ve been called worse things. So suck it up and let me help you, you asshole.” you tossed your textbook at him. “Read this passage, and then I’ll show you the flashcards. Is that okay with you, or do you need further instruction, moron?”

Damn, he liked when you talked to him like that. He knew you were faking that kindness act just so your professor wouldn’t get upset with you. He was right. Tobio knew you had an attitude under all that nerd attire that made you look so fucking sexy. Wait, did he think you were sexy? No…right? You were his tutor. You were a total loser who dressed like that basketcase from The Breakfast Club. So why did he suddenly have the overwhelming urge to slam his lips against yours when you told him off? He shook his head, trying to erase the sinful thoughts from his mind as he read the passage in the textbook that lectured about menstruation. Ew, gross. Well, he guessed it wasn’t gross. It was natural. Besides, you would probably punch his lights out if he said it was gross. For once in his life, it was better to keep his mouth shut. 

“Have you finished the paragraph?” your words snapped him out of his thoughts—a twinge of pink dusted his cheeks.

“Yeah,” he responded, closing the textbook. “I can’t believe you have to go through that every month.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “You get used to it eventually. At least I don’t have endometriosis,” you shuffled your flashcards, taking one out of the deck. “Okay, can you tell me the average amount of days that a person with a uterus gets their period?”

Tobio thought for a moment. “Uh…five?”

You slowly nodded. “Well, it’s closer to a week, but everyone is different, so I guess you’re technically right,” you pulled out another card. “Why do people with uteruses get cramps when menstruating?”

“Um…because the muscles in the vagina contract to…” 

“To what?”

“To get rid of the lining…”

You clapped your hands together. “Very good! Did you already know some of this stuff?”

Tobio nodded. “I have an older sister. She gets really bad cramps, and the whole house turns into chaos whenever she gets her period. Chocolate usually helps…I would always make her chocolate milk.” He smiled to himself.

“Aw, that’s really nice of you. Your older sister is lucky to have a nice little brother, even if he’s a jackass to his biology tutor.” you snickered, putting away the flashcards. “Well, it’s been an hour already. I think we should wrap up. I’m hungry.”

“I’m not a jackass, shut up!” Tobio grew defensive, crossing his arms over his muscular chest. “I have to get to practice anyway. Hinata will start spamming my phone any minute if I’m late. He’s so annoying.”

You put your items in your bag. “Hinata? Like, Shoyo Hinata?” you pushed your glasses up to your face. “I know him. We eat lunch together sometimes. He’s hilarious.” you smile, and Tobio felt a jealous wave wash over him. You were the cutest girl he had talked to in a long time. Why did Hinata get to talk to you, too? Was he about to try something? Fucking Hinata. 

“He’s actually really fucking annoying. He makes weird noises when he receives the ball like a toddler.” Tobio smirked, brushing the dust off his jeans. “But if you think he’s funny, you must be right. After all, you’re the smart one.” he teased.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Don’t get pissy with me because you have a shitty grade in biology. So, what if you know how the menstrual cycle works? I bet you’re awful at the reproductive part of human anatomy.” you placed a hand on your hip. “We’ll meet here tomorrow at the same time. You get to learn about the vagina, which should be fun for you since you’re obviously a fucking virgin.” 

“I am not!” Tobio huffed, staring daggers as you walked away. He wasn’t technically lying to you, but it also wasn’t the truth. Sure, he had done things with his mouth and hands, but he never went all the way. And Tobio was almost positive that you would bully him relentlessly if you knew that he was a virgin. And he also knew, way deep in his gut, that he wanted you. For whatever reason, he had to have you. You were so full of yourself and painfully smart, smarter than he would ever be. Tobio needed to fuck you so good that you would not doubt in your mind that he wasn’t a virgin. 

The library was relatively empty, but it was a Saturday afternoon. Students who lived off campus were at their parent's house, and those who lived on campus were probably asleep in their dorms or doing other activities. It was a lovely atmosphere, especially without all the annoying frat guys using the library as a place to make out with girls in the nonfiction section. You and Tobio sat in the usual spot, except you both sat on the couch this time. Even though you didn’t particularly care for him, he was getting better at human anatomy, which you felt proud of.

“So, are you ready to learn about how we reproduce?” you opened your textbook to the bookmarked page. “I know we already learned this in high school, but it’s still an important part of the unit to review, just in case there’s a question on the exam next week that’s a curveball.”

Tobio sighed and took out a highlighter he bought exclusively for your tutoring sessions. “I can’t believe we have to go over this. We’re in college. We know how to fuck.” he blushed, tapping the uncapped highlighter on the thin paper of the textbook.

You cleared your throat. “Just because we know how the process is done doesn’t mean we understand the risks that come along with it. There are sexually transmitted diseases and ectopic pregnancies…there’s a whole list of things that can go wrong during sex. Luckily,” you pushed your glasses up the bridge of your nose. “Those things are relatively rare. Well, except for the STD portion. That’s why condoms are important, even when your partner is on the birth control pill.”

Tobio smiled slightly. “You seem to know a lot about this. Is there something I should know?” 

Wow, he was never this smooth when it came to flirting. Usually, he was an awkward mess who stammered over his words and made a fool of himself. 

You rolled your eyes and looked at him. “My high school just thought that being properly educated when it came to sex was important, that’s all. I’m not some sexual deviant if that’s what you were wondering. Would a sexual deviant dress like a librarian?” you gestured to your outfit.

Tobio’s eyes wandered to your tight-fitting sweater that fit snugly around your breasts and waist. The skirt you wore was thigh-length and oh-so-snug, and the stockings you wore underneath made you look like the prettiest librarian he had ever seen. “Do you want me to be honest, or is this one of those questions where I’ll be wrong no matter what I say?”

You closed your textbook. “No, be honest. Let me know what you’re thinking.”

Tobio took a deep breath, refusing to make eye contact. You were pretty, but damn, were you terrifying. “I…I think you look really fucking sexy when you dress like a librarian.” he squeezed his knuckles on his lap, looking down at his feet with a furious blush on his face. 

You chuckled. “So you have a thing for librarians or something?” you moved closer toward the bumbling setter. “That’s not a bad thing, you know. Even though you’re incredibly stupid, you are…kind of cute.” you placed your hand on his trembling thigh.

“Don’t touch me there. It’s sensitive,” he whispered.

“Aw, you really are a virgin,” you softly purred, finding this whole ordeal amusing.

“I told you I’m not,” Tobio continued to lie. “I’ve…I’ve had sex.”

You sighed, pulling your hand away from his thigh. “You know, it’s okay if you are a virgin. I know I tease you about it, but it’s really nothing to be ashamed about.”

Tobio crossed his arms and grumbled. “My teammates say otherwise, especially the upperclassmen.”

You rolled your eyes yet again. “Tobio, they just say those things because of toxic masculine culture. You have to ask yourself if you honestly think you’re ready to lose your virginity if you’re emotionally ready for it.”

Tobio raised an eyebrow. “Why would I have to be emotionally ready? Don’t people fuck because they’re horny?”

“Well, yes, but it’s a very intimate act. You have to be mature enough to be vulnerable with your partner. This is why sex education is so important.”

Tobio racked his brain, thinking of what to say next. “Do you…want to come over tonight? T-to study, obviously. I have to get my grades up, or it’s my ass.”

You smiled, packing up your things. “We can just study in my dorm. I live alone, so it’ll be nice and cozy. Maybe we can do a practice quiz on female anatomy? I’m guessing you already know a lot about male anatomy.” you give him a suggestive smirk.

Tobio frowned. “Did you just say that I jerk off a lot?”

“You’re a nineteen-year-old in college. Of course, you jerk off a lot.”

“Shut up! God, you’re so pretentious.” Tobio shoved his hands in his pockets, leaning back against the couch. 

“At least I’m not failing biology,” you stuck your tongue out playfully. “Come by my dorm building around nine. It’s the one by the dining hall, you can’t miss it. I’ll be waiting to buzz you in.” With that, you left, humming to yourself as if you didn’t give Tobio a million ideas on how to spend his time in your dorm. What if you brushed against his shoulder when going over terms, and his hand just happened to slide around your waist? Oh, it would be absolutely terrible if you got on top of him, caging him under your body as your lips trailed down further and further until they landed on his needy cock. Fuck, Tobio was hard just thinking about it. He grabbed a nearby throw pillow and whistled to himself, waiting for his erection to go down so he could walk to his dorm and prepare for tonight. In reality, nothing would probably happen…right?

It was 9:02 in the evening. The crickets played a tune outside your dorm hall as you sat down on one of the many chairs they had scattered on the lawn that were usually used during the springtime. The moon shone brightly in the sky, and the fireflies danced with the stars. Truely it was a perfect evening.

Except Tobio was fucking late. Sure, it was only two minutes, but what if he forgot? You didn’t have his contact information; emailing him was out of the question because that would be outdated. And so, you waited patiently outside for him to arrive. You couldn’t wait to lecture him.

“Yo,” Tobio waved. His backpack hung over his shoulders, and his cell phone practically dangled from his grey sweatpants. “Sorry, I’m late. My roommate was being an asshole, and we were yelling so much that I lost track of time.”

“You’re two and a half minutes late, dick,” you brushed the dirt off your knees, stretching. “I was considering going back inside and leaving you to fend for yourself.”

Tobio scoffed. “It’s only two and half minutes, damn. You really need to learn how to relax.”

You opened up the dorm building with your keycard. “If I relaxed, I wouldn’t be at the top of my class. Now, would I?”

“Whatever. Can we just get this over with? I hate studying.” he said defensively. It wasn’t technically lying; Tobio didn’t like studying, but he liked studying with you. He would never admit it, but you made the material easier to remember, and you actually cared about him getting decent grades for whatever reason. 

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, princess. I live on the third floor, and the elevator is broken, so we’re taking the stairs.” you took off your hoodie and wrapped it around your waist, revealing your low-cut tank top. “C’mon. I don’t want to waste more time than we already have.”

“It was barely three minutes…” Tobio muttered under his breath as he followed you up the stairs, trying his best not to trip over the steps as his eyes constantly darted to your exposed cleavage. Fuck, you looked so fucking good. Did you even know what you were doing to him? Probably, you loved teasing him. Maybe if he got enough answers correct, you would let him bury his face in your breasts and suck little hickeys onto them.

“Okay, we’re here,” your dorm room was just at the end of the hall, nice and secluded. You jiggled the key in the doorknob and let him inside, the dorm walls decorated with posters ranging from your favorite TV shows to stupid ones you found while thrifting. “Make yourself at home. I’ll get my laptop to do online flashcards. If you get them right, you get to feed your little monster pet. Isn’t that fun?”

Tobio chuckled. “You have to rely on a game to study? And there I thought you were just books and, uh, other things.”

“Wow, so smooth.”

“Shut the hell up.”

You giggled and sat on your bed, patting the spot next to you. “Make yourself comfortable. This could be a while.”

“As long as it’s less than an hour, I don’t care.” he sat beside you, mindful of the space between. If he was any closer, he might be unable to help himself.

“Oh, honey, did you think you would be in and out of here in a tight thirty minutes? You could not be more wrong,” you mocked him, opening the flashcard application on your computer. “This will take maybe two hours so that you can learn all there is to know about the female body. Unless, of course,” you leaned in closer. “You don’t think you can handle it.”

Fuck, this is where Tobio dies. He’s going to die, and it’s because this sexy fucking nerd won’t give his virgin ass a break. 

“I-I can handle it! I can totally handle it!” Tobio sounded so sure of himself, but the crimson blush decorating his cheeks gave it all way.

“If you say so,” you clicked on a flashcard. “Alright, what is the labia?”

Tobio thought for a moment. “Uh, it’s the folds of skin around the vaginal opening…right?”

You smiled. “Very good! You get to give the little monster a treat now.” You handed him the laptop. “You can click on what food you want to give him. I personally like giving him the rice cakes.”

Tobio chuckled at the tiny digital creature chewing on the snack. “This is kind of cute. I can see why you like studying now.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Studies show that making learning fun actually helps the material stick in your brain for longer periods of time. Who knew?”

You clicked on another flash card once Tobio had finished feeding the virtual monster. “Oh, this is a fun one. How rare is the female orgasm without clitoral stimulation?”

“...why do I have to know this?” Tobio looked flustered.

“Just answer the damn question.” he looked cute when he was embarrassed.

“Uh, common…I think. I don’t know, I’m not a girl.”

You sighed and adjusted your glasses. “Wrong, sorry. It’s actually incredibly rare for a female to orgasm without proper clitoral stimulation. We often time have to fake it to please our current partner.”

He looked down at his socks. “That doesn’t sound very fun. Why do guys cum more easily than girls?”

“Because the sperm fertilizes the egg, and women don’t need to orgasm to produce the egg, obviously.”

“And how was I supposed to know that?”

You rubbed your temple. “Because the textbook is right in front of you, dummy. Anyways,” you looked at Tobio. “Don’t feel bad. We have sex toys and stuff so we can get proper orgasms.”

Tobio scratched the back of his neck. “Has…has anyone ever made you cum?”

You were silent for a moment. “No, not even once. I had a boyfriend who was convinced he knew where the clit was…he always got it wrong.”

“Sorry to hear that,” why did Tobio feel bad? He wasn’t your boyfriend…did he want to be?

“S’not your fault, don’t apologize.” you pat him on the back, the faintest shade of ballerina pink on your cheeks. “Well, we should probably get back to studying now.”

Tobio closed the laptop. “We could study a different way…o-only if you want to.”

“What do you mean? Like, without flashcards?” you were faking your innocence. You knew exactly what he was talking about. 

“Are you seriously going to make me say it?” Tobio forced himself to look at you, drinking in your natural beauty. Holy fuck, you were so gorgeous.

“Yeah, I really am,” you leaned forward, licking your lips. “Go on, tell me how we can study a different way. I’m so eager.”

Tobio groaned to himself at the sight of your pink tongue licking your bottom lip, making you seem even more tempting. “We could, dammit, we could have sex a-and you could show me how to…y’know, make you feel good. O-only if you want to, I would never force you to. It’s not like I’m desperate for sex or anything. Who said that? Not me-” You cut him off by placing a manicured finger on his chapped lips. 

“If you want to fuck, then let’s just fuck. I’ll teach you along the way, alright Tobio?” you placed your laptop on the dresser beside you, climbing into his trembling lap. Your soft hands cupped his flushed face, the scent of your vanilla hand cream filling his nostrils with a pleasant aroma. “Do you want me to fuck you, Tobio?”

“God, yes,” 

With his approval, you gently pressed your lips against his. He quickly melted into the kiss, wrapping his muscular arms around your waist so your chest was flush against his. His lips moved slowly against yours as if he was terrified to do something that would upset you. You giggled into the kiss, shifting in Tobio’s lap to get more comfortable.

He groaned into the kiss, his hands squeezing your hips with feather-light force as your tongue bore into his mouth, dancing with his own before pulling away. Your arms secured themselves around his neck, fingers tugging on the loose strands of midnight black hair. “Did you like kissing me, Tobio?” you purred, your petal-like lips trailing kisses down his thick neck.

“Y-yeah, I really fucking liked that,” God, his whimpers would be the death of you.

“Do you know what a hickey is, Tobio?”

“Not really…” he felt ashamed of how little he knew.

You frowned at his downtrodden tone, rubbing his cheekbone with your thumb. “Hey, don’t say it like that. It’s okay if you don’t know what a hickey is. I’m your tutor, don’t you want to learn?” he nodded.

“So why don’t you let me show you then, hm? I’ll be gentle, I promise.” you kissed up and down his neck until you found a spot that made Tobio gasp. “Is this where it feels good?”

His sweatpants strained. “Yeah..really good,”

Your teeth nipped at the skin. “This might hurt, so tell me if it’s too much. Can you be a good boy and do as you’re told?”

Another whine escaped his puffy lips. “Yeah, I’ll be good for you.”

Your lips descended onto the previously marked spot, taking his skin between your teeth and sucking ever so slightly. His once light grip on your hips strengthened as you bit down on the sensitive flesh, sucking the tiniest purple bruise that would surely blossom into a beautiful hickey. You pulled away, catching your breath and brushing your hair out of your field of vision. “How did that feel, pretty boy?”

Tobio’s cock was painfully hard in his boxers. The grey sweatpants were not doing him any favors in terms of concealing his throbbing erection. “Shit, that felt so fucking good,” his hands traveled down to the bottom of your shorts, fidgeting with the cotton fabric. “Can I have another one, please?”

You pecked his nose. “Only because you asked so nicely.”

His head craned to the side to give you better access as you bit at the other side of his neck, suckling on the same place opposite the first hickey. Whimper after shallow whimper fled his lips, his calloused hands from years of volleyball sliding under your shorts to toy with the fat of your ass.

You gasped at the sensation, pulling away prematurely. “Somebody’s certainly handsy tonight.”

“S’not my fault,” Tobio looked away. “Just wanted to feel more of you, that’s all. Not my fault that you’re pretty.”

“You’re cute,” you pecked his lips, your glasses pushing up against the bridge of your nose. “Tobio, do you wanna continue being a good boy for me?”

“So fucking badly, please. I’ll do whatever you want. Just make me feel good.” Holy fuck, he was sure he had never been more embarrassed in his whole life. He would never say something like that. The power you held over him was unmatched.

You rolled yourself off his lap, propping yourself on the bed by your elbows. Teasingly, your hands reached under your shirt and pulled it off, your bra following after. The cold and arousing air of your dorm room grazed your tits, your nipples perking up at the temperature change. “Why don’t you take that shirt off too, hm? Don’t be shy now.”

Tobio didn’t need to be told twice. He practically ripped his shirt from his body. You didn’t even get a chance to admire his toned form before his lips were on yours again, his muscular body caging yours as his rough hands left trails of molten lava on your breasts. 

“Fuck, Tobio,” you moaned into the kiss, wrapping your legs around his slender waist. “D’ya like what you see, pretty boy?”

He didn’t answer. His lips wrapped around your nipple, eagerly sucking at the sensitive mound while his other hand toyed with the supple flesh. You let out a content sigh as his mouth alternated between breasts, not leaving one abandoned for a moment. 

“Fucking love these tits,” his voice rumbled against your cleavage, covering your scorching body with sloppy open-mouth kisses. “You’re so fucking pretty.”

Your hand danced between his messy hair. “Good boy. You’re being so good, Tobio.”

His hips rutted against yours, his clothed erection desperate for any kind of friction. “Wanna make you feel good,” he groaned as he tore his mouth away from your breast. “Please, teach me how to make you feel good.” he didn’t even care how desperate and pathetic he sounded. All he knew was that he needed you. 

“Take my shorts and panties off,” you lifted your hips off the mattress. Tobio didn’t need to be told twice. He pulled your soft shorts off and tossed them on the ground beneath you, your panties soon dangling over your ankle. “That’s it. You’re such a good student, Tobio.”

Fuck, your body was to fucking die for. Your glistening heat was so incredibly tempting. He wondered what you would taste like…if you would permit him to taste you.

“Do you know what oral sex is?”

“Y-yeah, of course I know. I’m not an idiot.”

You nodded in satisfaction. “Now, do you want me to show you how to make a girl cum on your tongue?” 

His nod was a bit too quick.

You chuckled. “Alright then,” your delicate hand spread over your pussy, circling your clit. “This is the clitoris. When you apply enough pressure to the clitoris, that’s when your partner will probably orgasm. Fingers sometimes do the trick,” you looked deep into his gunmetal eyes. “But the best thing to do is to suck on it with your mouth. Can you be a good boy and do that for me, Tobio?”

“Mhm, I-I can do that. I’ll make you feel so fucking good, I promise.” he lifted your hips so they rested on his thighs for support. The hot breath from his tongue sent electric shocks throughout your body, complimented only by his whimpers as he flattered his tongue against your soaking heat. 

“Fuck,” you sighed, tossing your head back against your plush pillows as Tobio slowly dragged his tongue up and down, occasionally stopping to suck on your clit. Your hands flew to his unkempt hair as he grew greedy, quicking his pace. The calloused tips of his fingers squeezed the supple skin of your thighs as his nose brushed against your most sensitive bud, lapping at your sobbing cunt like a man starved.

“T-Tobio, fuck!” you cried out, arching your back further into the mattress as his pace quickened like a man on a mission. His tongue and lips worked against your core in a fierce heat, not being able to think of anything else except pushing you over the edge, just like you asked him to. Your thighs clenched around his head as his thumb found your clit, swirling electric circles. “I’m so fucking close, don’t stop!” his name fell like a mantra from your lips as he continued his brutal pace, groaning as you tasted too incredibly sweet on his tongue.

He lifted his head from between your thighs, his mouth covered in your slick. “Am I doing a good job? Do you feel good?”

You shoved his head back down. “Yes, just keep going. I’m so fucking close, Tobio, please.”

The sound of you begging was all he needed to drive you over the edge. He buried himself in your heat, his thumb being replaced by his middle and ring finger as he drew rough circles against your clit, his tongue darting up and down like a madman. With one final cry of ecstasy, you came crashing down as your orgasm sent shockwaves of pleasure throughout your molten figure. His tongue worked you through your orgasm, lapping up every last bit of your release.

You pulled him up by his hair, your face flushed with the deepest shade of pink he had ever seen. “Fuck…that was so fucking good. You’re such a good boy. Do you want your reward now?” Before he could answer, you flipped over so he was under you, your body still shaking from the aftershocks of your orgasm. His sweatpants were discarded, and boxers hung on his ankle. 

“What are you doing?” Tobio whined as your thumb teased his throbbing cock, gathering precum on it as you tasted him. “Fuck, it feels so fucking good.”

You hovered above his length, aligning it with your entrance. “Shh, just think about how good I’m about to make you feel, okay?” you lowered yourself down onto his cock, hissing as your greedy pussy swallowed his length.

“What about, oh fuck, what about condoms?” Tobio whimpered, his hands finding your hips as you sat on his pelvis, the walls of your cunt squeezing around his cock. 

“Well, you’re a virgin, and I’m on the pill. It’s safe to assume that you’re clean.” you groaned as you lifted yourself, the head of his throbbing cock sitting snug in your walls before you slammed yourself back down. 

“Holy shit,” Tobio rasped, squeezing his eyes shut as you began to slowly bounce on his cock. “Y-you’re so fucking tight, oh my fucking god.”

You leaned down to kiss him, whispering sweet nothings against his lips as you raised and lowered your hips, creating a steady pace that filled you up so nicely. “Yeah, you like me fucking you?”

His grip on your hips tightened as you set a relentless pace, your dorm room filling with the echoes of skin smacking against skin as his cock disappeared in and out of your cunt. “Shit, I’m not gonna last if y’keep that up. Fuck!” he shouted as his cock brushed against your cervix. The sight of your bruised breasts bouncing in his face only drove him further to the edge of euphoria, taking your nipple in his mouth as you continued to ride him.

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you harder, Tobio? So fucking greedy.” you were met with a wanton cry as you slammed down even harder, his cock twitching inside of you. Your pace grew sloppy as he continued to suck on your breast, his calloused hands roaming up and down your backside, desperate for purchase. 

“M’not greedy!” Tobio whined, practically sobbing into your harsh kiss as your walls clenched around him, milking him for all he was worth. “Gonna fucking cum, fuck! Can I cum inside? Can I please cum inside your pussy?” his pride has long since been thrown out the window, his release the only thing in his head. Tobio didn’t even wait for you to respond before his climax crested, shooting white hot ropes of cum into your pussy, his hips bucking up into yours as he rode out his incredible high. 

The warmth in your core enveloped you as your bouncing ceased, letting him recover from the aftershocks of euphoria. His mouth was agape, and his gorgeous blue eyes could barely be kept open.

“You’re so cute,” your hands cupped his cheeks, kissing his nose as you got off of his ruined cock. His body was scooped into your arms, fingers drawing random shapes and patterns on his chest as he recovered. “Did that feel good, pretty boy?”

Tobio could only grumble in response. “So good, so fucking good. Love that pussy,” he whispered, curling up deeper into your arms as you tended to him.

“Do you need anything? A glass of water, a snack?”

“I’m not five years old…” he sighed, peeking up from your arms. “Can we just cuddle or something? I don’t wanna leave just now.”

You raised a brow. “No one said you had to leave right away. Where that stereotype came from, I will never know.” 

Tobio shrugged. “I dunno either. It’s stupid, anyway. You’re so warm.”

“Are you sure this isn’t the same guy who was being such a hard-ass a couple of days ago?” you chuckled, fluffing his hair.

“No! Shut up,” he frowned at you, pecking your cheek. “Let’s watch a movie so I don’t have to keep looking at your stupid, pretty face.”

“Hey, Tobio,” you whispered in his ear. “If you get a good grade on that quiz next week, I can show you what my mouth can do.”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for scamming my ex out of an extremely valuable virtual pet?

🐓🥤to recognize. This might be a very long post with a lot of added context for a very niche hobby and a very small actual conflict.

I religiously play a virtual pet site called Chicken Smoothie. It's a pretty old site as far as virtual pet games go, starting back in 2008, so there is a pretty solid established site economy. Just for some context, Every pet on the site has a rarity, ranging from "OMG So Common" to "OMG So Rare", being the most common and most rare respectively. But there are rarities within those rarities, where some OMGSRs can be worth more than others based on species and demand. For example, an OMGSR dog from 2008 will be worth more than an OMGSR rat from 2008 despite being the same highest rarity and year, because people prefer the dogs over rats. These pets can get extremely valuable. You can't sell them for real money (according to site rules, but of course there's a black market), but the site has its own virtual currency you can buy (with real money) and trade for called Chicken Dollars, and you can also trade a valuable pet for other valuable pets. It gets very complicated, with the community coming up with its own set of value terms each pet can have. I'm not getting into specifics there, that's not important.

Every year, on December 18th, CS has gift boxes you can adopt from. These gift boxes can contain any rare pet from any previous year, including special "Unreleased pets" that you can only get from these Dec 18th boxes, with a very slim chance. These unreleased pets are some of the most valuable and rarest in the game.

Recently, I had seen my ex posting on the forums. I didn't know he had an account, he had made it within this year, long after I got the fuck away from him, and I only knew it was him because he uses the same username everywhere. This person had groomed me, physically abused me when we were together (we no longer live anywhere near each other, thankfully) and has always been emotionally manipulative. He does not know I play, and he wouldn't recognize my account as me. I took a note of his account and left it be for a while, until December 18th hit and I took a peek at what he had got. And what he got was one of the new Unreleased pets, which currently at the time of writing this only looks like a box of cereal. (Most pets on the site have growth stages.) And even better, all his groups were open for trade, so I took a chance and sent an extremely terrible trade. I told him that this pet would only be a recent rare, and I offered him a "Very Rare" rarity (but not very valuable) pet from 2018, telling him I was overpaying. (In the CS community, this is known as Ninjaing, and it's Not A Good Thing To Do). I didn't expect him to accept it, I at least thought he'd be smart enough to ask in the trade advice thread that is literally pinned on the home page for December 18th, but he didn't. He took my word for it and accepted the trade, and now I own an unreleased pet that will eventually end up as an OMGSR.

What I did was not a bannable offence. He will not get his unreleased pet back. The CS mods are laughable at worst, incompetent at best, and don't do anything to stop scamming. They have an "eh, sucks to be you, sorry, be smarter next time" mentality when people get scammed (Which is insane because there are literal single digit aged children allowed on this site!!!)

After taking a bit to think about it, I do feel a bit guilty because I really would not do this in any other circumstances. I hate scamming. I did what I did out of anger and contempt, and I do feel a bit guilty because in essence, I scammed a new player that didn't have much else and didn't know any better.

I'm still keeping that unreleased cereal box no matter what though

What are these acronyms?

[hyomaslut]

──★ ˙🍑 ̟ !! casual conversation between friends? 18+!

☆⌒(ゝ。∂).ᐟ ᴀsᴋɪɴɢ ʙʟʟᴋ ʙᴏʏs ғᴏʀ ɴᴜᴅᴇs ᴘᴛ. 𝟸

✿ ─ characters: kaiser michael, ness alexis, aiku oliver, nagi seishiro ✿ ─ cw: smau!, extremely suggestive/borderline smut, aged-up!characters, college!AU, gn!reader, no pronouns, unestablished relationships/mutual pining, use of foul language, descriptions of genitalia, suggestive themes, slight implied cheating, oliver is so obnoxious im sorry, proofread? ✿ ─ notes: if you see this and you requested someone else, worry not. i'm far too much of a people pleaser to leave you hanging, there will be part three! if you're looking, part 1 can be found here!

KAISER MICHAEL...

you don’t know if its just curiosity driving you or some feelings towards kaiser you’d rather not confront, but impulsively you ask him for a picture. you don’t have much time to reflect on how wrong it is to be asking someone for nudes while in a relationship because before you know it you’re staring at his fit body and shit eating smirk that you hate that you like. its honestly near professional level quality too. a selfie of him laid out on his bed, basking in the afternoon sun peeking through his window. you let out a breath as you finally will yourself to let your eyes travel down and you finally notice the sheet he has draped around his hips. leave it to michael kaiser to persuade you to ask him for nudes only to tease you. still you could see a clear outline of his cock through it and you really wish he was lying about his size. you swallow harshly and you thank god he couldn’t see the crimson that has taken over your face.

NESS ALEXIS...

he sends it to you relatively quickly considering it’s alexis and you had half expected him to spend 20 minutes taking it only to chicken out and not send it. your surprise doesn’t end there, however, as the entire vibe of the image was far from what you were used to with ness. he’s sitting up against his headboard, joggers haphazardly shoved to his knees. he was holding his phone down near his thighs, giving you the perfect view, you didn’t know where to let your eyes land. the tips of his fingers gently pressed his cock against his abdomen, trying not to bite your lip over the fact that it was long enough to reach his belly button. ness must not skip core day at training, you think as you mentally trace every indent of his abs. the thing throwing you off was his face. he had the bottom of his shirt clenched between his teeth to hold it up to give you a better view and you don’t miss the intense look swirling in his eyes. it made your breath hitch in your throat. he had never seemed so focused, so serious. it’s as if his stare was piercing through the screen of your phone. the flush on his face made him look convincingly desperate, stirring arousal in your stomach to your embarrassment.

AIKU OLIVER...

you unfortunately can’t disagree with him. the last few times you hung out with oliver there has been a heavy tension that you’ve been fighting to ignore. it’s what drives you to reply a noncommittal maybe, which is much better than a no, and good enough for oliver. less than a minute later you get a picture, and you can’t help but think that he probably had taken it before you had even agreed. it’s in the mirror in his bedroom, the only lighting is the soft glow of his lamp. he stands facing the side, holding his dick which was at least twice the size of his hand and veiny. to your surprise, he’s well shaved, and as your gaze wanders up his body you scold the part of yourself that wants to drool over his abs and arms. you always knew he was toned, saw him play soccer a few times, but had never how truly sculpted he was. you knew you were doomed the moment you locked eyes on his stupid smile. dangerously charming, kind of like the man himself, one you could see yourself getting fooled by over and over again if you stared at it long enough.

NAGI SEISHIRO...

it takes him barely a few minutes. nagi’s picture is lazy. he was sat back in his desk chair, he just pulls up his hoodie a bit and slides his sweats down his thighs. it’s lit only by the glow of his computer, his cock is basically the only thing in frame… except the plastic water bottle he places next to it for a size comparison. honestly he shouldn’t get away with sending such a low effort nude, but it’s easy to get away with anything when your cock is as big as his. you couldn’t even do the mental math required to figure it out, but one thing was for sure, bigger than a poland springs water bottle. and it simply isn’t fair to be that long and wide at the same time. it almost makes you angry. of course naturally attractive, naturally talented nagi seishiro had a huge dick. you’re unsure if nagi knows how groundbreaking this information is and is choosing not to brag out of modesty or if he doesn’t realize he is the biggest you’ve ever seen.

🇧‌🇴‌🇳‌🇺‌🇸‌❗❗❗ (reo's perspective)

i hate tumblr please just upload my fucking screenshots like a good girl next time. okay now that all the rage is out, what do you guys think!!! part 3 will come out soon and will include: shidou, bachira, sae, kunigami, + mystery bonus?? not sure yet

© 2023 hyomaslut. please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my content onto any other sites.

[ladykailitha]

Paper Hearts Part 4

I finished it!! It will have 8 chapters. I'm excited for you guys to see where this goes! I'm still working on Sweet Home Indiana and will be focusing on that until ITS done. Then we'll be back our regularly schedule WIPs.

We have Eddie's big plan and Steve gets his flirt on.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

****

Steve slipped into the kitchen and there in his mother’s neat handwriting was a note telling him that there were leftovers in the fridge and that they would be home again next Friday.

He sighed and opened the fridge. He immediately closed it when he saw what the leftovers were.

Boiled cabbage with chopped bacon and carrots. It wasn’t bad if it was made correctly, but his mother boiled any flavor and nutrients out of the poor vegetables and then tossed in cooked bacon to hide its sins.

He opened the cupboard and pulled out a small can of Campbell’s chicken noodle soup and made that. He was craving the sodium. Eddie’s beef was good to get his body to stop shaking, but he had sweat so much he needed to replenish the salt he’d lost.

Once Steve had eaten and drank another glass of water he went to go get a shower and get ready for bed. It was no use trying to get back to his homework now. He had managed to blow up his whole evening by getting lost.

He had no idea how he got to Forest Hills or even why his feet carried him there in the first place. He could feel the weariness seeping into his bones from running for so long.

He undressed and got under the scorching water, letting the heat carry away his pains. His mind ran through all the things that Munson had done for him. The guy had no reason to be nice to him, but he had been more than gracious.

Then it hit him. Munson had called him Stevie, and without thinking Steve had called him Eds.

Eds.

Where the fuck did that come from? They weren’t friends, they could barely be considered acquaintances. Was his brain reaching out to the guy subconsciously? Is that why he ended up at the trailer park? Everyone knew that’s where Munson lived. Who knew how many times the guy had been called trailer trash, but the older teen seemed to rise above the insult.

Steve shook his head, spraying water everywhere. Just because Munson picked up lost sheep, didn’t mean he’d be willing to taken in an injured wolf. Because that’s what he was, reformed or not, Steve would never be a sheep. He would always be a wolf. A predator.

But at least as a wolf he could protect those kids with everything he had. And he would, even if it killed him.

The water had long since turned cold by the time Steve stepped out of the shower. He completed his after shower routine mostly on autopilot as he kept going over his interactions with both Munson men. He didn’t really have good interactions with dads or in this case uncles. But Munson’s uncle Wayne treated him with kindness and he could see where the older boy got it from.

He dressed into his pajamas and slid under the covers. He rolled over on his back and tucked one arm under his pillow, staring up at the ceiling.

Steve thought back to the apology. One Munson really didn’t have to give but did anyway. He thought about the other jocks that bragged about hurting his hand. He held it up and looked at the fading bruise. It wasn’t as though he was even basketball anymore. Hurting his hand wouldn’t do anything but make it hard to do his homework and all he had to do is show his teachers his hurt hand and he’d get extensions for that. Like he had for his concussion last November.

But then again Tommy H. never had reasons for the people he hurt either. He just liked the power he got seeing the person helpless.

He placed his hand over his heart and let himself drift off the sleep, brown eyes and dark curls haunting his dreams.

****

Eddie had originally bought the red heart for himself like he had told the two juniors. But staring at it now, he had a better plan for it. Because that last wall, that last bastion of defense crumbled to ashes when he realized that despite the fancy car, the big house, and the expensive clothes, Steve Harrington was more like Eddie than he thought possible.

Wayne’s approval of the boy cemented that for him. Because if he could take one look at Steve and decide he was worth saving, then Eddie raring to go full steam ahead for a rescue mission.

Eddie could tell that the hearts were made from simple construction paper, like the kind found just about anywhere. He knew it would be technically cheating to just simply make more instead of buying them, but he had no intention of contributing to a dance he was never going to go to because one, it wasn’t his year; two, the whole gay thing; and three, the one person he would want to go with if the gay thing wouldn’t get him hate crimed, wouldn’t give him the time of day.

Well, all right, that might have changed with the whole rescuing him from wandering alone in the dark thing.

He forgave Eddie about being a dumbass, so maybe there was hope for, at the very least, a vast decrease in hostility. And he was willing to take what he could get.

He decided to wait until tomorrow after school to get the construction paper and hope that the high school hadn’t bought up the town’s supply.

On his way out the next morning, Wayne stopped him.

“You don’t have to tell me, son,” he said gently, “but you got feelings for that boy?”

Eddie froze and turned slowly to face his uncle. “What gave you that idea?”

Wayne chuckled and shook his head fondly. “Boy, when you’d go on rants about the Harrington boy, you’d describe his floppy hair, his hazel eyes and how unfairly good looking the kid was. I didn’t say anything because it did sound like he’d been a bit of an ass. Only after last night I got to thinking and was wondering is all.”

Eddie closed his eyes and opened them slowly. He let out a long shuddering breath, his bottom lip quivering.

“I–I don’t...” he closed his eyes again. This wasn’t Al. He wasn’t going to get beat for admitting it, but still it was so hard to say. So he just nodded.

Wayne came up and wrapped his arms around his nephew. “It’s a hell of a lot tougher batting for the other team, but I trust your judgment. Just promise me that if he shows signs of liking you back, you take the chance to tell him how you feel because...”

“You miss one hundred percent of the chances you don’t take,” they said together.

Eddie dropped his bag to the floor and hugged him back. “I know, old man. But I promise if there is a chance, I’ll be brave enough to take it.”

“Get going,” Wayne said, voicing cracking with emotion.

He pulled back and nodded. He reshouldered his backpack and got in his van.

He had a lot to think about and that really wasn’t conducive to paying attention in class or to his friends as they talked about their upcoming D&D session.

Gareth kicked his shin causing him to yelp.

“What the fuck, dude?” Eddie hissed.

“What the fuck is up with you?” Gareth hissed back. “You’ve been going on and on about the mind flayer for weeks and now that it’s literally this weekend, and you’re off in some other realm.”

Eddie blinked at him for a moment before his brain came back on. He shook his head to clear it.

“Yeah, sorry, man,” he said around a pretzel. “Weird night last night.”

“What happened?” Jeff asked, tilting his head to the side.

So Eddie told them. “He was like a ghost, guys. If Wayne hadn’t seen him too, I would have thought I was hitting Mary Jane a little too hard, you know?”

“I didn’t realize he was getting bullied,” Brian said, frowning. “I would have thought with Hargrove giving the dude a wide berth, that everyone else would have too.”

“Untouchable,” Jeff agreed. “The fact that jocks are now splintering into factions tells you what kind of control Steve actually had on them.”

Eddie rubbed his chin. “I don’t know how true this is, but if Harrington wasn’t lying, he’s a real sweetheart, too.”

Then he leaned forward and explained about the pink heart scheme.

“So,” Gareth said, steepling his fingers and resting his chin on them, “you’re telling us is that we have been seriously remiss in our duties in collecting lost sheep.”

The older teen sighed and shook his head. “I’d like to collect him, but I’m afraid the wolves might decide to rip him apart before we got him to safety if we tried.”

Jeff winced. He knew what Eddie was talking about. Steve Harrington wasn’t the usual lost sheep. He might be bullied now, but as King, Harrington had run far too long with the wolves to think that they could protect him one hundred percent of the time.

“So what are we going to do?” Brian asked. “Because if we let this slide, we’re throwing our lot in with the bullies and that’s something I refuse to do.”

A grin spread out over Eddie’s face, closed lips and dimples entrenched into his cheeks. “We’re going to make the school think that he’s just as popular as he ever was.”

The other three boys looked at each other in confusion.

“So what have you got?” Gareth asked, his own grin starting to take over his face.

****

Eddie made sure to get to class early so he could see where Steve was going to sit. He tried to tell himself it was about the dude’s hand, but it wasn’t working. He wanted to see if the former Hawkins royalty would chose to sit with his old friends or by him again.

He didn’t have long to wait. Steve walked in not long after he did, just as the bell rang. He didn’t even look at his old desk near the front and beelined it for the chair he had sat in on Friday.

The teacher picked up on the change immediately and wrinkled her nose. “I am to suppose that you are taking up permanent residence in the back with Mr. Munson, Mr. Harrington?”

Steve half shrugged as he began to pull out his things for class. “I got more work done, Mrs. Dixon and I really want to graduate on time.”

Mrs. Dixon nodded. “Agreed and as long as you continue the level of attention from last week, you are permitted to stay there.”

About half way through class while Mrs. Dixon was grading papers, Tommy H. turned around and kicked Steve’s chair. “Suck up,” he hissed.

Steve puckered his lips and wagged his eyebrows. “Why? Do you want to be next?”

Tommy turned back around, his face bright red.

Eddie raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side as he considered everything about that interaction.

A little blossom of hope sprouted in his chest and he fought to keep it down. Steve had insinuated that other people were gay for years, but to Eddie’s highly trained gay ears, that sounded like Steve was offering to suck Tommy H.’s dick and that Tommy didn’t exactly turn him down.

Curiouser and curiouser, he thought tapping his lips thoughtfully. More research would have to be done.

He pulled out a different notebook, the one he used for campaign notes and song lyrics.

He wrote girls over one column and boys over the other and began tallying what he knew about the former King of Hawkins.

A shit ton went into the Steve liking girls column, but there was surprisingly more in the liking boys column then he would have thought possible. He looked up to catch Steve smirking at him.

Eddie quickly covered his notebook and stuck his tongue out at Steve.

The other boy shook his head and went back to doing the assignment. Eddie was more careful about what he left out in the open because he didn’t want Steve teased for it nor did he want him to see that Eddie was trying to figure him out.

The bell rang and the notebook was suddenly whisked off his desk.

“Hey!” Eddie cried, looking up to see Steve dancing away with the notebook teasingly. “Stevie!” He grabbed his bag and chased after the other boy. But the other boy was a jock and Eddie was wheezing for breath by the time he caught up with him at his locker.

“Give that back,” he huffed.

Steve gave him a bright smile and handed it back. “I just made a minor addition.”

Eddie frowned as he flipped through the pages but didn’t see anything. Steve took it back and turned to the correct page and leaned close so that only Eddie could hear.

“I trust you’ll keep my secret,” he whispered and then dropped to one knee to start getting into his locker.

Eddie gulped at the sight and turned to the paper to avoid saying something stupid. There in bold capital letters under his girls/guys columns was the word BOTH.

He looked up at Steve who had stood up. Steve winked at him and then walked away, leaving a shocked Eddie behind.

****

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Tag List:

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @slv-333 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie

@chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666

@goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

@vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer

@yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

@dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual

@fullpoetrybread @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @moonshadows-13

@swimmingbirdrunningrock @croatoan-like-its-hot @lolawonsstuff @lololol-1234 @dotdot-wierdlife

@ravenfrog @dauntlessdiva @thelittleclare @steddieyourself @dam28lh

[sunflower-lilac42]

𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗸𝗲𝗻 𝗻𝗼𝗼𝗱𝗹𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗽 ; 𝘲𝘩43 ୨୧

➪ summary: after the devastating loss, y/n makes it her mission to make quinn feel better, and the key is her homemade chicken noodle soup

➪ warnings: the canucks round two loss, quinn is sad

➪ word count: 1.1k

➪ file type: fic - reupload

➪ sunny's notes: this one was rough to reread but i still love it in some way. it made me sad reading it again bsfr

© sunflower-lilac42 ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

qh43 masterlist || nhl masterlist || new taglist || navigation

She tried, she really did. But her boss was relentless, he was not letting her take a day off, not even a few hours. So here she was sitting in her office when her boyfriend was playing in game seven of round two of the Stanley Cup playoffs. 

She knew how nervous he was before the game having called him on her break. She had to calm him down before he left for the arena. Without Brock, she knew this game would be harder than the previous ones.

By some miracle she was able to make it back to their apartment for the third period, it was around 8 when it started. She sat on their couch, still working but mostly watching the TV that splayed the game across it. She felt as if she was sitting on edge the whole time.

As the clock ticked down, she only grew more nervous and anxious, wanting nothing more than for them to at least score a goal. Her knee bounced up and down, her laptop completely abandoned on the other side of the couch. She breathed a small sigh of relief once they got the power play. 

The first goal they scored, she all but jumped off of the couch. Taking a deep breath and clapping her hands, she sat back down and watched the game intently, thanking Connor as much as she could. And then Fil scored too. She smiled a little bit of hope making its way back into her body. 

A lonely tear slid down her face as the final seconds came to an end. She watched as their camera panned to all of their faces and she broke when she saw the look on Quinn’s. He had worked so hard for this, overworked himself until he passed out on the couch. He didn’t deserve this, none of them did. 

She made quick work of making him something to eat, her homemade chicken noodle soup that always seemed to cheer him up. She knew that there was a good chance that he wouldn’t eat it, probably have little to no appetite at all, but if he didn’t, they could heat it up tomorrow. 

When she finished making it, she let it sit on the stove, keeping it warm for when he arrived home. She moved to the couch to continue working, occasionally getting up to stir the pot. 

She didn’t know how long it had been until Quinn got home, she only knew when she heard the door click open and the sound of keys clattering on the counter shook her from her working state. She stood up and walked over to him but halted once she saw him holding his hand up, “I- I’m going to go shower.”

She nodded and reached her hand out to at least give him a reassuring touch but he shied away from it, making his way to their bedroom. She wasn’t sure how much more heartbreak she could take from him. She heard the shower turn on a couple minutes later and she didn’t know what else to do. She went back to work, hoping Quinn would be done soon and come out to at least sit with her. 

Yet, after thirty minutes there was no sign of him. The water had turned off about ten minutes ago so she knew he was at least out of the shower, the bathroom not so much. She set her computer off to the side, making her way into their bedroom. She found him sitting there at the edge of the bed, his hands clutching one of his shirts. She walked over and kneeled behind him on the bed, wrapping her right arm around him and her left hand moved to rub up and down his arm. 

She lightly kissed the side of his cheek and waited for him to say something. He whispered something but she wasn’t sure what he had exactly said. She moved to situate herself so she was sitting more comfortably before leaning in to hear him better, “Hmm?”

“Why does it hurt so much?”

She frowned at his words, her left hand now clutching his left one, “Because that’s your team, Quinny. Because you’re the captain and you feel like you let them down. But I’m going to tell you right now that you are in no way shape or form to blame here.”

He shook his head, trying to move away from her. He was afraid that if she was around him too much he would let her down too, afraid that he had already let her down. Her grip tightened around him causing him to stay in place. Finally, he broke. 

He buried his head into her chest, wrapped his arms around her waist, and sobbed into her chest. She ran her fingers through his hair, occasionally kissing the top of his head. She held in her own tears, not trying to give him another thing to worry about. 

As his tears slowed, he moved his head away and wiped the remnants of them from his cheeks. He locked eyes with her and for the first time that night, he allowed himself to truly relax. She ran another hand through his hair and smiled softly at him, “What’re you thinking about?”

“That I’m really glad I have you.” He reached out to hold her hand, gripping it tightly. 

“And I am really really glad to have you, Quinner. Nothing is ever going to change how proud I am of you. You led this team to the second round of the  playoffs in your first year as captain, you did amazing.” 

He smiled at her which caused her to smile again as well. He hugged her tightly once more before mumbling, “I smelt chicken noodle soup.”

She laughed, “Of course you did. Made it right after the game finished. You want some?”

He nodded and stood up, holding his hand out for her to take. They ate in silence, occasionally looking up to sneak glances at one another. She did the dishes as Quinn made his way back to their room to settle himself into bed. She joined him a few minutes later, clad in one of his sweatshirts and the first pair of pajama pants she found.

She kissed him before snuggling into his side, “I’m so proud of you, Quinny.”

His eyes glassed over a little as he leaned down pressing a kiss to her head, “Thank you.”

𝗩𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗨𝗖𝗞𝗦 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 ୨୧

@Blakesbearsblog @toasttt11 @chiblackhawks @prettyjoseph @nicole01-23 @auriesphantom @pucks-goals-penalties @dancerbailey3 @quinnylouhughesx43 @petite-potato4 @thehuggybearslover @absolutelyhugh3s @kei943

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Oral Support - Ghost x Reader [M]

Summary: A disastrous brush with auto-correct leads you down a path you had only ever dreamed of walking.

Notes: 18+, Implications of smut, actual smut, graphic descriptions of smut, no use of pronouns for Reader except for ‘you’, fluffy towards the end of both parts (separated by - ), Reader over-thinks (don’t we all?), oral (male receiving), a bit of angst at the beginning of part 2 (Parts 1 and 2 separated by the - ), mentions of pain, graphic description of smut, fluff at the end, (Y/N) is a little awkward at first, (Y/N) is inexperienced, (Y/N) also gets anxious, nervous knuckle cracking, pet name used.

Wordcount: 4,897 words

The fact that you’d managed to get as close to Ghost as you had was in itself miraculous. Well, ‘close’ being an exaggeration; immediate acquaintances, at the least. Friends, at the most. Regardless, it had come with its many obstacles.

Such as now, after your inquiry about Ghost’s day, which you’d hoped to be benign, which was met with a simple: Alright.

Oh god, the dreaded full stop.

Your heart spiked, your back was up. Your micro-analysis began.

He doesn’t usually end sentences with a full stop - he thinks they’re a waste of time. Is he mad at me? Did someone steal his phone and impersonate him? Is he okay?-

You heaved a sigh. Told yourself to calm down.

It’s fine, you’re fine, he’s fine. Stop over-thinking everything.

But alas, that is what we are all victims to when in the throws of a crush.

The word had crossed your mind every now and again, dancing between your synapses like a demon in a church. It made you cringe, made you feel juvenile. Inferior. But you couldn’t deny it. In spite of its childish connotations, it was what you were experiencing.

You had a crush on Ghost.

Absolutely ludicrous is what you’d called it when you were alone. Totally and unequivocally baseless. You hadn’t even seen his face, nor did you know his name. You just knew that you liked him. And you’d hoped that somehow, somewhen, he’d grow to tolerate you, too. And that hope was being steadily fed by Soap, who’d reassured you during your sleep-deprived, delirious ramblings (of which you remember little) that “Getting Ghost’s number is a good sign,” and that it meant he “at the very least acknowledges you.”

Better than nothing,you’d convinced yourself. Better to be acquaintances than strangers.

You knew not to press the issue. You knew when to stop. But you just wanted to make extra, doubly sure.

Positive?

You hoped he’d understood your message. Hoped it hadn’t been too vague. Your phone pinged. He always managed to get back to you quick enough, you’d noted - something Soap had brought to your attention, too.

Yeah.

Okay, you told yourself. Enough stress. Time for bed.

You were about to put your phone down. Just about to. Then, a brilliant idea flashed in your mind.

You opened the message board again and began typing.

I’m here for moral support if you want it

Perfect, you told yourself. Not pressuring him to open up but making yourself available to him. Brilliant.

You sent the message, put the phone away, and turned in.

But something crossed your mind just as sleep caught up with you. It was a nagging feeling, the same twinge of anxiety one gets when they wonder if they’ve locked their front door or taken their chicken out to defrost overnight.

It made you uncomfortable. You shifted, hoping a change of position would make it go away.

It didn’t.

You turned to lay on your back, huffed, and looked up at the ceiling, as if the answer lay there.

What is it? you asked yourself. What could it possibly be?

You ran through your day, brushing over everything you’d done, anything you may have missed. Right up until you turned over on your side and tried to get some sleep.

And then it came to you. An intrusive thought, a message from God, a monster lunging out from a closet. It held your heart in its icy grip. Sitting bolt upright, you tore your phone from your nightstand and opened your message board with Ghost.

I’m here for oral support if you want it

How?! you screamed within. How could I have misspelled-

Auto-correct. Of course.

Even worse, Ghost had read it and said nothing.

You were on damage control immediately, putting all PR managers everywhere to shame.

*moral support

I meant moral support.

The full stop and calmness with which you communicated belied the storm that brewed in your mind. You tried to counteract it, asking yourself what the worst he could think or do was. That made it worse, your brain taking you down dark alleys and avenues of a lonely future, forcing you to shake hands with your own doom.

Eyes bleary with sleep and panic, you scarcely noticed that Ghost had replied, the only indication being your phone vibrating.

You scoured the screen, breaking your anxious haze and analysing his message.

Is that offer revoked?

The image - the intrusive image- of the implication of Ghost’s message flashed behind your eyes, blinding you. Your phone dropped onto your covers.

You stifled a scream.

What do I do? you thought. Who do I call?

You considered your best friend, but that was’t an option. Asleep, most likely. It was 2 AM. Their answer wouldn’t come quick enough.

Okay, Y/N, you can do this! Channel the energy of someone who knows what they’re doing.

You began typing.

Not if you want it ;-)

You’d accidentally channeled the energy of someone who had a good track record of flirting. Or, at least, you hoped.

Ghost began typing. Your heart pounded.

I’ll be back in a few days. Be ready for me.

Your heart seized. You screamed.

It worked! It’d actually worked! Auto-correct and your aimless flirting had done it!

Then, the excitement snapped off, a twig from a tree. Realisation dawned on you.

You only had a few days to perfect your technique. Now you really did need to call your best friend. I’ll do it tomorrow, you told yourself, and resisting the urge to message Ghost a plethora of excited nonsense, you took a shaky breath and lowered your phone to your side.

Somewhere amongst your newfound, delighted anxiety lay excitement, the hope that this accident, this interaction, could lead to something more. You smiled widely, the scene of you and Ghost, unmasked, on a date playing behind your eyelids, a projection of the future.

-

For lack of a better term, Ghost had ghosted you. After your interaction days before, you’d seen (or heard) neither hide nor hair of him; not from the boys, and certainly not from Ghost himself. Thus, here you were, knee bouncing as you perched on the edge of your sofa, mind racing with the ever-looming threat of rejection.

Maybe he was joking, you thought. Maybe he saw it as a throwaway flirtation and nothing more, maybe- maybe-

You didn’t want to cry. You really, really didn’t want to, but there was something about the possibility, the mere indication, of rejection - silent rejection at that - that made you want to choke up and shed a tear.

Get over yourself, it’s not like you had a chance anyway.

A cruel smile crossed your face. Ah well, nothing ventured, nothing lost. Or gained.

With creaking knees, you stood, a shred of a laugh at your absurd attempts to impress Ghost slithering up your throat. The taste of mint slathered on your tongue reminded you of the nigh ritualistic self-care you’d inflicted on yourself these last few days. All just for him.

Sighing, you glanced about your spotless, soulless apartment, any indication of idiosyncrasy shoved under your bed or into the boiler cupboard. After inviting your friend round for a pity party - the same friend who had rigorously instructed you on blowjob etiquette - this place would sooner resemble the remains of a celebrity blowout than the quaint little apartment you called home.

You hummed, hoping the impromptu song would distract you from the growing desire to cry. Wallow, one might say.

A reality-piercing rapping at your door tore you from your train of thought. You jumped, almost throwing up your own skeleton. Your heart thudded in your chest, a steadily unsteady rhythm of anxiety coursing through you like acid.

Silence for a moment. Then: “(Y/N)?”

Your knees almost buckled beneath the weight of your incredulity. THe voice was low, raspy, distinctly British, the North-Western Manchester industrialism evident within it. Almost unbelievable.

Your chest erupted with razor-edged butterflies, nerves frying, heart thrumming, harp strings played by a manic god.

“Uh- y-yeah?” you called, peering round the living room door and down the hallway, the front door just in sight. You didn’t want to sound as if the voice was too familiar to you, just in case it wasn’t. In case it wasn’t Ghost.

“You gonna let me in or what?”

You didn’t move for a second, and then moved all at once. “‘Course, coming!” Your voice wavered as you hurried down the hall and to the door. Reaching it, you breathed deeply, quietly, aware of how thin the walls were, straightened out your shirt, and unlocked the door.

And there he stood.

Very little light made it past him, his hulking form taking up all the room that the doorway could spare him, broad and unrelenting. His mask made him appear as a reaper, eyes dark as the rest of his attire. With him he carried a canvas bag. You swallowed thickly.

“H-ey,” you said lightly, voice strained, cracking. You coughed, tried again. “Hey,” you repeated, normally, this time, and leaned against the doorframe. Ghost only looked down at you, emotions and intentions unknown.

Well, mostly unknown. No doubt the message - the silent promise - you’d given him flashed in his mind as it flashed in yours, weaving itself into the fabric of your psychology as any tangible crush did.

“Did it take you long to get here?” Small talk. Well done, (Y/N). You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to hide the hammering of your heart, making the fabric of your shirt jump as it thudded against your chest.

“Depends.” was all Ghost said. He peered over your shoulder. “You alone?” The question made something in you stir. The implication sat heavy in your stomach. It promised something, wanting to crack and bloom. You nodded, not trusting your voice, fighting the smile blistering onto your lips.“Right, then.” Ghost rasped. He looked at you. You looked at him. You both waited for the other to do something. You realised it was your turn.“Oh!” you exclaimed, folding out of Ghost’s path. “Come in, make yourself comfortable-”

Ghost breezed past you, not one for formalities. You swallowed and shut the door behind him. You begged and pleaded with any deity available that you hadn’t already annoyed him.He found the living room and placed his bag down, its contents heavy, evidenced by the thunk it made as it hit the carpet. He shed his gloves soon after, throwing them atop the bag.

You followed behind, squeezing your fingers, cracking your knuckles. Your breathing was shallow and you felt warm all over, the beginnings of sweat forming under your armpits.

Ghost looked around; you could only assume he was familiarising himself with the environment. You coughed and gestured to the sofa, at which point Ghost turned and looked back at you.

“Take a seat,” you said, more requested, actually. Ghost gave a light nod and sat down, making the sofa bow in the centre beneath his weight. He gave a sigh, shut his eyes, and said nothing. He seemed to be comfortable, and you wondered if he’d come straight here from his latest mission. My head game needs to be immaculate to justify him coming all the way from God-knows-where to my apartment, you panicked.

You had the idea of prolonging said demonstration of said head game by offering Ghost tea, a British favourite, which he declined. You offered him water, biscuits, an omelette, a pair of fluffy socks, a film; he declined them all.

“I’ll tell you what I do want, though,” Ghost rasped, looking at you with undivided attention.

You wanted to be sick. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to do this, you were simply mortified of the embarrassment that would come with not knowing how to walk the walk after talking the talk. You hoped you could buy yourself just a few more minutes to go over the needlessly explicit notes your friend had given you on this interaction. 

You didn’t want to play dumb, nor did you mean to. You just wanted more time. “What?” you said, nigh shaking with uncertainty.

Ghost beckoned you and, with nowhere else to run, you came to him, standing just out of reach of his knees. He took your wrist and pulled you closer. “On your knees,” he said. His voice felt heavier, either because of the mask or…something else.

Your heart jumped up your throat. You swallowed it.

And now, on buckling legs, you lowered yourself to the floor, pants keeping your knees from being carpet-burned. You kept your breathing quiet, trying to deepen it. Your nerves were no less frazzled.

Ghost lifted his hips from the sofa and unbuckled his belt. He withdrew himself from his pants before you could comprehend or prepare yourself for what was happening.

“Woah!” you exclaimed. Then, you felt your heart and stomach sink. I did not just say that out loud, you begged. Oh my god, no, please.

Ghost’s head tilted as he continued looking down at you, holding his cock in his hand. Given how large the rest of him was, this shouldn’t have been surprising. Still, you were impressed; especially considering he was already half-hard. Something in you felt tight and hot.

“Woah?” he said. You could practically feel him raising an eyebrow beneath his mask. “That impressive, is it?”

You found yourself nodding. You were past the initial point of shame until you encountered the next; your own inexperience. Ghost let out a huff of air, likely a laugh or one of its diluted associates.

“Well, I’m honoured,” he said. There was jest in his tone, and for that you were grateful. You smiled, trying to combat the growing fear overtaking you. Not as honoured as I, you wanted to say, but it felt far too mediaeval and, dare you say, cringe, for this situation. You just nodded. Again

And here you were, staring at the dick of the man who had become the most recent and potent object of your affections. With absolutely no inclination as to what to do next. Your hands were folded in your lap. You squoze them together, trying to disperse some of your nervous energy.

With every second that passed you could feel Ghost’s eyes burning holes into you. You knew the bare basics, and that was all anyone could ask of you. Just put it in your mouth and get it over with, you thought. Though, not that you didn’t want to take your time; you would have loved to given that you knew how to make Ghost feel good. But right now, your main concern was trying not to destroy any semblance of respect Ghost may have accrued for you by giving the most terrible head of his life.

All while thinking this, you hadn’t moved, eyes glazed over. Ghost’s baritone came as a startling distraction.

“Somethin’ wrong?” he said. There was mild concern laced somewhere in his voice.

“Oh, no! Totally fine!” you said. Your voice cracked and you winced internally.

“You sure?”

You nodded, smiling through the anguish. “Yeah, yeah. It’s just…been a while since I’ve seen…” you didn’t want to make eye contact with it again; it felt wrong to do so without doing something to it. 

“How long?” The rounded edges of his accent and refusal to pronounce a handful of letters felt oddly endearing to you in this moment. Or perhaps you were clutching at straws, anything else to pay attention to aside from the growing tension in the room.

“Uh…” you pretended to count how long ago your last encounter was, already knowing the answer. “About…I don’t know, doesn't matter - just a long time,” you smiled, your signature at the end of a disaster of a sentence.

Ghost said nothing. Did nothing. He leaned over, placing his elbows on his knees, and stared into you. His mask consumed your vision. You knew you couldn’t look anywhere else, frozen.

“(Y/N)...” he began, sighing lightly. “Do you actually wanna do this?”

“Yeah! I mean, I want to, I really want to! It’s just that…” You wanted to swallow your confession, hide it where nobody would ever find it. Ghost’s head tilted as he looked at you. 

“But what?” he said. His voice held no urgency, no pressure, but something…sincere. Curiosity? Perhaps he wasn’t accustomed to dealing with your sort.“I…” You sighed. The jig was up. Time to come clean.

“I’ve never actually done this before.” You hammered the final nail in your coffin. “Ever.” Your gaze dropped and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, to see his disappointment. You hid, pointing your face to the floor, your hands on your thighs. You heard Ghost shift.

“Well then, why didn’t you say so?” You felt a hand slide around the back of your head. You jumped, gaze snapping to meet Ghost’s. There was a glimmer in his eye. “I’ll guide you. Just keep your teeth out the way and suck.” His eyes were darker than they had been before. Even without the mask, you felt that he would look just the same.

You nodded, mouth ajar with shock. Ghost took full advantage by bringing your head down to his thighs and prying your mouth open with the tip of his cock. You jumped, he held you in place. You could feel how many hours he’d put into his strength by his firm grip in your hair; not enough to hurt, but enough to let you know that it could.

And that power made you warm and wet in places that typically couldn’t be provoked by real, physical men. The many figures and books you’d swept under both the proverbial and physical rug were evidence of this.

Taking in the bulbous tip, you recalled Ghost’s explicit instructions to keep your teeth out of the way and all but unhinged your jaw, trying to accommodate the first of many inches. With the restraint of a god, Ghost only watched, waiting for you to accustom yourself to his girth before continuing.

“Y’alright, Precious?” he said, squeezing your hair, prompting an answer. You hummed around him, making his eyes twitch and the rest of him harden. “Now,” he breathed, “be good for me. Keep goin’,”

You couldn’t nod, you couldn’t do anything aside from what he’d instructed you. And so, you descended. You inhaled another inch or two, swallowing when you felt your saliva collecting in your mouth. As soon as you did, Ghost jutted by a fraction. You decided to try something you remembered teaching yourself.

Your tongue gingerly danced along the edge of his shaft, trying to find the tip before it was too far down the back of your throat even for light to reach it. Ghost gave a light groan as your tongue glossed over the veins of his cock, stopping only upon feeling a dip in the head. Then, with little mercy or idea of what would happen, you stroked it with your tongue, continually, back and forth, in a sustainable rhythm that eased you into a comfortable monotony.

You closed your eyes, mapping out his member in your mind’s eye, a new, salt-like taste slick on your tongue as you went. Ghost’s light groaning turned into a deeper grunt, making your stomach feel tight. You recognised this new taste as pre-cum, something you’d thought was a myth until just now.

It excited you to think that you were the one making Ghost feel this way. You hazarded a glance at said man, and upon doing so, found him looking down at you through heavy eyes. You felt seen, and suddenly very naked. No, exposed. You resisted the flight response to withdraw.

Ghost’s hand rested on the back of your head, and, ever so slightly, you felt him pushing on it. “Go on,” he said through deepening breaths. “Take more of me.”

You obeyed, and, swallowing the collection of pre-cum and saliva collecting in your maw, urged yourself to take another inch or two. You gagged, the tip almost hitting the back of your throat. You could feel it practically grazing the soft, wet skin of your throat.

“S’alright, take your time,” he said, his chest appearing to rise and bay like the tide, deep and consistent.

You took a moment to familiarise yourself, to acquaint yourself with his size, before resuming. You knew you couldn’t take much more at this rate, and you didn’t want to open your eyes to see how much was left of him. Though, judging by the warmth radiating against your face and the tickling sensation of hair against your nose, you figured not too much more.

Your previous anxieties had washed away with Ghost’s soft guidance, leaving you to enjoy the sound of ghost’s groan-laced breaths and the barely restrained juts of his hips as his body urged you to take more.

You began bobbing your head, withdrawing your mouth before impaling it back onto Ghost’s length, all the while his breaths became more laboured, laced with groans and an odd moan. Your hands came to rest atop his knees, holding onto him. You yourself felt a wetness developing between your legs, though you tried not to think about it. A tightness formed in your core, jolting you with flashes of rapture.

You sucked hard, coaxing a faint ‘Ah' from Ghost, followed by the purr in his chest. Guttural groans.

You felt the sheer weight of Ghost’s dick on your tongue, making your jaw begin to ache. You tried to push this aside, too, opting instead to focus entirely on making sure Ghost finished. You’d read enough fanfiction to be able to tell when that would happen. 

Whenever you swallowed around his cock, you heard a strangled noise escape him, not yet a moan, but the promising beginnings of one. It was deep, gruff. You wondered if Ghost made noises like this while getting himself off. The thought sent another jolt between your legs.

The sound of your collective breathing and you guzzling your own pre-cum-laced saliva made the room feel smaller, encasing you both in your own story, one which you hoped had a happy ending.

“Fuck me,” he breathed as your tongue caught a particularly prominent vein, “you sure you’ve never done this before?” He looked down at you through half-lidded, almost closed eyes. Hooded. You felt a smile coming on yet was physically incapable of expressing it. You hummed a response, pride swelling in your chest as you watched Ghost’s eyes screw shut at the feeling.

You wondered if he was close, and, judging by the shortening space between his breaths and the amount of pre-cum filling your mouth, you believed so. His grip in your hair tightened and you could feel him becoming more lost by the second as his restraint crumbled, leading to his grip becoming somewhat painful.

You ignored it, instead trying to take the rest of him for the final stretch. You swallowed, then advanced, swallowing the last couple of inches. His tip hit the back of your throat and you gagged, trying to suppress the aching in your jaw and throat. Ghost hissed, his hips bucking once before he settled again. Your nose was pressed against the bottom of his stomach, dark, curly hairs tickling your nose.

You sucked him, felt him, your tongue trying to coat every inch of him in your saliva, the fire in your lower half burning brighter than ever. Your mind wandered to what it would feel like to be filled by him, encouraging you to go faster. Harder. You moved at a pace you thought was beyond your capacity, lips burning from the friction of sliding across the length of Ghost’s glossed cock.

“Just like that,” he breathed, just about capable of forming a cohesive thought, never mind a sentence.Something in your intuition told you he was close. Or perhaps it was in the way his groans had turned into deep, baritone moans and barely-comprehensible curses. You sucked harder.

“Keep goin’,” he said, breathless, “‘m nearly there,”

With a final push, running your tongue along a sensitive vein and swallowing, throat contracting around his tip, he came. Hard. He let out a mask-muffled moan, short yet harsh and potent, tailing off into a symphony of heavy breaths and groans. The sound made your core hot and tight, radiating tension and the promise of euphoria. 

His hand fused with your hair, gripping it tight enough to make you wince. Thick ropes of warm cum filled your mouth and throat, forcing you to withdraw as it went down the wrong way. You kept your mouth closed when you coughed, unsure of what to do with Ghost’s semen. It felt far too precious to spit out, yet you were unsure as to whether you were permitted to swallow. You watched Ghost collect his thoughts, his hold on your head loosening. He ran his fingers through where he’d held you, soothing you. Apologising for how rough he’d been.

His eyes opened, and he looked at you. You could see them widen fractionally as he spotted your cum-filled cheeks, waiting for his order.

“Fuckin’ hell.” he said, releasing a breath. Admiring his work. “Didn’t know you were waitin’ for me.”

You nodded, the taste of salt engulfing your tongue almost overwhelming. Ghost released the back of your head and deposited himself back into his pants, now having softened. He leaned down, just above eye level with you. “Swallow,” he ordered.

You did, and Ghost watched your throat bob. He gave a short hum and ran his thumb over the outline of your bottom lip. You leaned into his touch, his hand warm against your scorching skin.

You didn’t know how long you remained like that for, but it didn’t feel long enough. He withdrew, leaving you to feel cold without his immediate presence. Then, the reality of what you’d just done dawned on you. Your eyes widened, and you tried to keep your surprise to yourself.

You could scarcely believe that you’d actually - or rather, you and Ghost had - managed to do that without disappointing him. You only hoped it was as good for Ghost as he’d made it seem.

“Ghost,” you said, voice raspy and low, soft with inquisition. Ghost only hummed, leaning against the backrest of the sofa. “Did…” you swallowed, the slick remnants of him residing in crevices in your mouth. “Did I do well?” You almost wished you hadn’t asked, cringing at how desperate for confirmation you sounded. In your head, at least.

Ghost didn’t make it seem like that. He gave a slight nod.

“Very well,” he said, his emphasis reassuring you. You felt as if you could release the monstrous doubt accumulating on your shoulders. You gave a smile, plumping your flushed cheeks.

You both remained in slow silence, coming down from the excitement of what had just unfolded. Your gazes wandered the room, looking at nothing in particular. You wanted to maintain the tranquillity that had settled, but you felt another question burning in your lungs, desperate to be answered. You waited, then waited a little longer. Then, you asked.

“Ghost?” you said, your sore throat prickling, the ache in your knees becoming apparent to you. He looked to you. “Why did you come here?” Your question was genuine, and you didn’t want the skin-deep answer you knew was available to him; because I wanted a quick blow before I went home. You wanted him to look past that. His gaze was unintelligible.

“Why’d you invite me ‘ere?”

You blinked, then your honesty got the better of you. “Because…” You felt your face heating up again. You’ve literally just blown him, this should be a cake walk! “Because I...like you…?”

Ghost’s chest rumbled, likely a laugh.

“Well then, there’s your answer.”

Your heart wanted to soar, but the vagueness of his answer made you lust to ask just one more question.

“So…” you hoped your inquisitiveness (or density, as you might call it) was endearing, or at the least an excuse for your lack of abstract understanding. “Does this mean that you like me, too?” Your voice became more and more interrogative, phrasing the question in such a way that made it seem a mockery of itself, as if it were cosplaying its own function, exaggerated.

Ghost went quiet for a moment. “Honestly?” he said. You almost nodded before realising he was going to say more. “Yeah. I do.”

Okay, now your heart soared. You couldn’t fight the smile overtaking your features. Ghost noticed and made haste to try and revoke some of the joy he’d inflicted.

“Now don’t get all soppy on me,” he said, pointing a finger at you. “Else I’ll be forced to take drastic action.” Ignore you until you stop, is what your mind told you he’d do.

You tried to restrain your grin, but it remained. You could only reassure him verbally.

“No promises, Ghost,” you said, biting back the urge to laugh with joviality. Ghost shifted, his gaze becoming more intense. Serious.

“Call me Simon.”

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

Taglist: @cutiecusp

[kissofthemis]

hello!! i saw request of reader saving nxx boys from people flirting/harassing them so i was thinking could you write about the opposite? id love to see nxx boys being protective^_^ love your writing!!

Thank you for the kind words, anon! Sorry for the wait!

❤️ Artem ❤️

"Yes, I have plans tonight. Yeah, tomorrow night as well. I'm a rather busy person, honestly...."

Despite your best efforts to deflect the stranger's attempts at flirting, clearly "no" was a hard concept for this pushy person to grasp. Artem could not blame you for not wanting to be direct; you were kind and courteous, never wanting to offend others or hurt their feelings if you could avoid it.

But this arrogant persistence was a force to be reckoned with.

"My phone number? To schedule something later? Ah..."

Artem Wing could hardly call himself a champion of justice if he allowed someone so conceited and disrespectful to be victorious here.

"Are you ready to head home?"

You seemed a bit startled as Artem appeared beside you, but the relief in your eyes was evident. "Y-yes. I just finished up for the day."

Artem nodded briskly. "Excellent. I took out chicken this morning, and I was wondering if you'd rather have it grilled or breaded & stir-fried. We can discuss in the car."

He gave a quick glance to the stranger who'd been pestering you, who had become strangely silent once Artem had shown up. The look in the attorney's eyes was collected and calm, but sharp with an iciness that could freeze one to the bone.

"Have a good evening."

More indirect than his usual style, but intense enough to get the point across.

~♡~♡~♡~♡~

💛 Luke 💛

"I'm in a hurry, I'm sorry."

"Can't even give me your number? Just your number, for when you aren't busy?"

"I... I'm running late...."

The discomfort in your voice was evident as Luke turned the corner to pick you up after work. Evidently he should have chosen a better spot to meet up, because this corner was swarming with pushy, insensitive animals.

"Swarming" may not have been the correct term, but just one scumbag harassing you was one too many in Luke's eyes.

"You're so cold." What a pitiful whine. "Would it kill you to smile and be friendly?"

"You want a smile, huh?"

Luke pulled up to your side at that moment, and he firmly placed his hand on your shoulder as he stared the harasser down. "You're not much to smile at, hotshot, but I'll do my best."

"Who the hell are you, kid? Get lost."

Agitation. A natural response when a greedy predator comes face to face with a rival.

But Luke had no qualms about knocking a small fry down a peg or two.

The corners of his mouth turned upward into a smirk, and he stretched his lips into a wide, toothy grin. At least, his face read "grin," but the light in his smile did not reach his eyes, which only swarmed with smoking fury and threatening shadow, like a stormcloud about to burst.

Perhaps it was the unsettling, cocky grin that made this fool step back. Perhaps it was the bloodlust in Raven's gaze. In any event, a loud curse was the only word of farewell before the nuisance turned and headed off. Luke felt as though he were watching a small dog stomp off with its tail between its legs.

"L-Luke..." you began cautiously. The brunet turned to you curiously, his eyes now sparkling and his mouth set in a lopsided, well-meaning smile. At the sudden change in demeanor, you couldn't help but let out a loq chuckle. "You're going to give someone a heart attack one of these days, you big guard dog."

~♡~♡~♡~♡~

💜 Marius 💜

Backed against a wall.

This wasn't the first time someone had inquired into your relationship with the Marius von Hagen, president of Pax, but...

"Good morning! Meeting Mr. von Hagen? How does he take his coffee? Would you answer a couple of que--"

You slammed the door in the paparazzi's face. Never in your wildest dreams could you have imagined that getting caught on one outing with Marius would result in nosy reporters coming to your home!

With a sigh you slid down against the front door, landing in an unceremonious heap on the floor. How were you supposed to leave today? Or any day? You had errands to run, tasks to do, bills to pay, and you really, really wanted to check out the craft fair at Central Plaza this weekend!

A soft buzzing in your pocket distracted you temporarily from your growing worries.

"See you in 10."

What? Marius was on his way here? Wouldn't that cause even more problems?

You didn't get a chance to assemble your thoughts before a low rumble began to vibrate in your ears and make your entire body shake.

"Go on! Get out of here! You're a public nuisance, and I've got a fantastic attorney! Isn't a guy allowed to have friends?!"

You peered out of your window, and there was Pax's main man, wind whipping his dark bangs in his handsome face. He gripped a megaphone in his hands, looking relaxed and smug, but his knuckles were white with his stress. Vincent must have given him a heads up.

Marius' voice blasting out of the megaphone simultaneously filled you with hope and warmth, but also horror and despair. How would you ever beat the dating allegations now?

More importantly, where was he planning to park a helicopter?!

~♡~♡~♡~♡~

💚 Vyn 💚

"Thank you."

You dipped your head politely to acknowledge your gratitude to the stranger who had offered to lead you to the student center. Stellis University's campus looked much different in the evening light, when fewer students were milling about. You should have been able to find it on your own, and yet...

For better or for worse, a young man had noticed you, and when he approached you explained your situation. He had agreed to lead you over, perhaps a bit too gleefully. But you were grateful for the help, and so you acquiesced, but you kept your finger hovering over a "dial" button on your phone just in case.

After your quick goodbye, you spun on your heel to enter the student center.

However, your escort didn't seem too thrilled to see you leaving so speedily.

"That's it?" he huffed. "A half-assed thank you? No phone number, no hug, not even a last name? Are you serious?" His voice kept rising with each word, his tone growing steadily angrier. "I did you a favor by even talking to an ugly brat like you. Have you ever tried smiling with that gloomy face of yours, you miserable fuck?"

Ah. One of those.

You weren't going to dignify that with a response, but then you heard footsteps behind you.

No. Don't come closer. You didn't want any trouble, least of all from an entitled, arrogant--

"Aha. I was afraid I'd have to send campus security out looking for you."

A familiar voice hummed by your ear, and your face lit up with relief. "Dr. Richter!"

A slender but firm hand rested on your shoulder, and you looked up to see bright golden eyes meet yours. Those eyes were like a beacon in the darkening night, and you couldn't help but smile at the sight of them.

"The swing dancing starts any minute now. You have impeccable timing, as always." He let out a breathy chuckle.

"That should be my line, Dr. Richter," you retorted lightly.

Of course, the punk behind you hadn't left or stopped shouting. In fact, his rage only seemed to have grown since Vyn appeared, but Vyn paid him absolutely no mind. He must deal with rowdy students regularly, but this was something else entirely.

"Before we go inside," Vyn began, reaching into his coat pocket. "Let's clean you up."

"Hmm?" You didn't think you had any dirt on you, but you didn't protest as Vyn pulled out a silk handkerchief and gently began dabbing at your cheeks, nose, and hands.

"After all," he continued, and he lifted his gaze from your skin. But his eyes didn't go to yours this time; he appeared to be staring past you, at someone else.

You were grateful you couldn't see the exact look in his eyes as he murmured in a voice colder than the night breeze and sharper than a doctor's scalpel, "Spending too much time around ill-mannered, foul-tempered, idiotic boors is proven to be terrible for your health." His voice dropped an octave, and you couldn't help but shiver as he finished,

"And... if they are as foolish as they are filthy, terrible for their health as well."

[evanescencelovrr]

this is part 2 of my college!simon idea :) enjoy! feel free to like comment & reblog.

Simon mumbled and grunted. He was heaved over the barstool of the Bistro, finished a long day of studies and classwork. A.D, B.C, blueprints of Greek palaces and Knossos rebuilding—my ass. He thought in annoyance, brows slashes down in a glare, rough eyes peering out from his balaclava mask. A girl beside him eyed his mask to which he stared, biting into his sandwhich.

All around the Bistro had calmed down, a few people in and out. Simon always took the seat closest to the exit, it was better for an escape—and he maintained situational awareness. Not only that, but he liked when he sat alone. His brooding form took over at least two seats.

“Bloody hell…the man took chicken outta chicken…” Simon said, staring at his sandwich in disgust. His eyes had widened by a fraction. He chewed the last bite before setting the stale sandwich down, already pissed they messed up his order. He shook his head in annoyance and then managed to catch you.

His head paused in its moment and he drank you in, hair illuminated by the dangling overhead lights. The warm light made your hair softer than usual, and you wore a flowy skirt, some boots and a buckled bag hang off your shoulder. Along with a tank top you’d managed to find in your laundry that wasn’t dirty.

Wait a minute. He’d seen you before. This was the lass that lived across from him. In that tiny corner of a “room,” your “dungeon” as he called it. His eyes narrowed as he watched you order your usual. He had no idea what it was but he was tempted to find out.

Only so he could get rid of whatever the hell he’d been ordering lately. After you received your ticket, you made your way to the opposite seating area away from him, hair flowing and following your movements.

“I keep seein’ that lass…tis a sign or wot?” He’d mumble, more so to himself. The plastic cup nudges his lips before he drank the water, washing away whatever chicken—fake chicken had been left.

——

Sometime later at night, he’d been walking down the pathway to his dorm. His hands were stuffed casually in his pockets, the sound of music blasting through his wired headphones was the only thing he was focused on. His boots crunched over pebbles, the gravely path taking a turn up a slope. The moon hung high and heavy in the sky.

It was then he caught wind of some laughter pouring out like champagne. Smooth, easy, flowing. Kind of like—you. There you stood, standing ahead and walking, just having finished dinner and on your phone, smiling widely. Your head was tilted up at the moon in amazement, talking about how you’d seen more balls than you cared to admit—

To which he cocked a brow curiously and carried on walking, although slightly slower this time. God. Maybe it was from all the training that weighed him down. He knew it was an excuse to eavesdrop more but to be fair: you piqued his interest. Ever since he’d seen you in that bathroom, hair tousled and half asleep.

“My damn window won’t shut.” He heard you complain, sighing as your head tipped down, focusing on the rocky path. You adjusted your bag, hair flowing. Some laughter sounded over the phone and then said, “Just get that masked man to do it, the one you been telling me about.”

Masked man?

Oh.

Him.

Who else wore a looming skull mask in the dead of night? Him.

“No, absolutely not—I don’t even know him.” You said much quieter, eyes wide and lifting to peer around to see if anyone heard. It seemed like you didn’t know he was directly behind you, hanging a few feet back. He shuffled in his spot and for the first time in a while for the day, found his lip itching to grin. It was too easy. You seemed naive in the moment.

It also seemed apparent to him you’d been talking about him—to whoever friend it was over the phone. His finger tapped against his thigh, head cocking to the side curiously. Although he couldn’t blame you for doing so—lotta lassies fawned over him. He found himself disinterested though, unable to see himself in a relationship for the time being. Maybe it was the trauma, maybe it was the fact he preffered to be with his goldfish and venting to it, only to be returned with blobs of bubbles blowing out.

Just then, his boot crunched loudly on a twig and your head snapped around, hand clutching the phone. He stared, now pausing in his movements, as you were blocking his path. He watched as color drained from your face quite amusingly—and you fumbled to disconnect the phone call.

“Yeah, yeah, make sure to tell him what a nice ass—“

The phone cut off. Now both of you stood staring at each other.

[jamil-s-wifey]

Hello :3 Can I get a long scenario with my dearest Jamil?

I really love him so much >///< so here is my scenario, I hope you can accept

Jamil got sick and has a fever. MC stayed beside him and nursed him for 3 days without blinking and finally he recovered. He started to remember her care during his illness after his fever dropped. And when he woke up, MC hugged him tightly. A bit long, huh? 😅 I would be happy with little NSFW, not gonna lie.

Well hello there, fellow Jamil enthusiast~ It has certainly been a hot minute, hasn't it? It is my utmost pleasure to present you with the *long-awaited* scenario at hand! A bit of NSFW, some heart-warming fluff and Jamil finally getting a GODDAMN break, coming right up! It's not full on NSFW, just a lil bit, as requested, I don't know why it turned out like that- still, I hope this is good! (Tbh, it fits the scenario)

P.S. This hit close to home, I used to be a very sickly child and I still catch all sorta sicknesses a lot easier than normal people. So, what he will experience here is all based on very PERSONAL and very SALTY experience. 🙃

"What am I gonna do with you? You can't keep pushing yourself so much!" You murmured, pressing a cold cloth to Jamil's forehead as he slept soundly.

.......

Jamil hated being sick. Pretty normal right? Everybody hates being sick.

But to Jamil, sickness meant pushing through and continuing with his chores, regardless of his wellbeing. Imagine cooking above a hot stove with a high temperature. Can't be pleasant, can it?

But even the hardest stones could crack under enough force - such is the way the world works. It was towards the end of the day, as Jamil was preparing Kalim's dinner, when he felt his body give out under him. All day he'd been going around with a fever, he felt as if his own body was rotting on the inside, screaming at him to stop and have a break. His eyes were watery and felt as though they were burning in his eye sockets.

He couldn't even reach a chair to sit, before his knees buckled and he fell to the floor - too dizzy and too weak. Rarely did he ever get this sick, but this time it was bad. He moved to a more comfortable position and remained like that, trying to gather enough strength to get some medicine..... He most certainly didn't realise he'd fallen asleep, too tired to move, nor did he hear Kalim's worried voice when he found him on the floor in the kitchen.

And Kalim? Kalim was terrified! Quickly he called on his dorm members to move him to his room and immediately called you, crying on the phone, worried that Jamil might never wake up. (That's not how colds work, Kalim-) Worried about Jamil, you immediately rushed to the Scarabia dorm, medicine in hand.

_____________

And now here you are, in the present, taking extensive care of your near delirious not-quite-boyfriend-but-kinda-love-interest. He'd occasionally wake up and exchange barely audible pleasantries with you, drink his "extra healthy and full of good stuff" chicken soup (whatever that was supposed to entail) and then fall back into slumber. His fever has gone down drastically, but the utter exhaustion left in its wake has kept him bedridden. Apparently it was a seasonal fever, which just so happened to hit Jamil, who in turn chose to ignore it in the beginning.

You'd taken the liberty to remain situated in his room for about three days.

Day one was the worst - high fever, clattering teeth and a sleepless night to boot. You'd change his shirt every time he'd drench it in sweat whilst fighting off the fever. You'd switch up the cloth every time it lost its cooling effect, you'd remained by his side the entire time, least he needed something anything at all.

"Once you get better, I'm so gonna yell at you for not taking better care of yourself.... You're lucky I love you." You'd mumbled, barely audible in the quiet of the room as he slept.

Day two was better - he slept through most of it and you could in turn prepare some soup, as well as cover most of his chores, get a pass from the teachers AND even leave him some of your notes for when he recovers. (Look at you go! He'd better propose imo)

Now, on day three he was evidently much healthier. Finally he gave up trying to get out of bed, and instead lay resting, drinking his medicine, feeling utterly pampered by you.

_____________

"How long have you...been here?" You seemed pretty tired in his eyes. The moment you heard his voice you immediately threw yourself gently on him, gently crushing his bones in a hug.

"A while." You responded, face buried in his chest. In reality, you hadn't had a proper night of sleep in about 3 days. You DID sleep, Kalim even prepared a guest bedroom, but you chose to remain next to Jamil for most of the time. "Do you know how worried I was?"

"You didn't have to do all this, you know? You could've get sick too."

"I could've, but I haven't. For somebody with such a keen eye and monstrous deliberation, you really don't know how to take care of yourself properly." You quipped back, moving to sit on the bed next to him.

"As, so I'm being reprimanded now." His gaze softened. "Thank you....for taking care of me these last few days... I've forgotten what it's like to not have to worry or do anything... I feel like I've slept a lifetime... I don't know how I could possibly return the favour."

You can't stay mad at him. He knows it, you know it. Hell, even the Great Seven know it.

"Return it by recovering completely."

He chose not to continue the conversation. He knew arguing was pointless.

"You know, while I was sleeping, or trying to, I was mostly aware of what was happening around me." He began, pushing himself up, in a sitting position. "When you'd quietly hum to yourself, or cuss when you couldn't find something..."

"Ah- well, did you now? Sorry if you had a difficult time falling asleep because of me. " you felt your cheeks warm up a bit.

"No no, please. It's fine. You've taken such good care of me. I just... couldn't help but hear something, which perhaps I wasn't meant to."

He reached out, tangling his hand in your hair.

"Something about you loving me?"

...

Nope, all that heat in your cheeks? Gone. Now it was just coldness and dread.

He saw your frazzled state and chuckled. "I guess I'm really lucky, to have you to take *such* good care of me, huh."

He leaned in, but stopped just centimetres away.

"I shouldn't."

You heart dropped even lower, if that was even possible.

"I could get you sick.~" There was a lilt to his voice, but his eyes showed concern.

"Oh, for fuck's sake-" you leaned in, smashing your lips onto his. He smiled into the kiss, pulling you towards him.

Naturally, you moved to sit in his lap, his hands moving to your waist.

"Your feelings are returned, for the record." He mumbled in between heated kisses. The more heated the kisses became, the more his hands would wander until-

In the blink of an eye, he flipped you over, so that you were underneath him. Skillfully he unbuttoned the first few buttons of your uniform, revealing more of your neck and collarbones. "I think I have a way of returning the favour. You took such good care of me, I think it's my turn~"

His attention moved to your neck, leaving heated languid kisses and playful bites on your skin. His hand trailed down to spread your legs, moving between them. Every single touch of his was intoxicating. Pretty quickly your shirt was thrown on the floor, the supple flesh underneath - covered in hickeys.

"Are you not going to undress as well? Or should I do that for you?" you asked, breathless, yet teasing in manner. Well. As teasing as one could get, given how achingly turned on you were. "Like you didn't have more than enough time to appreciate the view, during these last few days." he teased right back, but his hands moved to grip the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it over his head.

"I've wanted to do this for a long time." He practically purred, fingers gliding over your stomach, gently trailing lower and lower.

"Of course, you can tell me to stop anytime."

"I don't want you to."

"As you wish, my dear. Then I'll make sure to indulge, taking, tasting, touching every single part of you. "

[sidekick-hero]

(steddie | gen | wc: 846 | cw: none | tags: established relationship, soft boys being soft | @steddielovemonth prompt: Love is being seen and known by @acasualcrossfade)

It's a quiet Sunday afternoon in late May, the sun streaming in through the living room windows and bathing them in its warm light.

His head is in Eddie's lap and Eddie's fingers are running through his hair in that soothing way that makes Steve feel closer to sleep than awake. Everything is soft and hazy, like a dream he never wants to wake up from.

Everything could be perfect.

Everything is perfect, really.

Everything except the voice in his head. It speaks in different tongues to better disguise itself, making it harder for Steve to get rid of it.

Sometimes it sounds like his grandfather telling him to go somewhere else to eat like a goddamn pig when Steve ate his chicken legs with his hand and got grease on himself.

Other times it's his mom telling the neighbor that Steve wasn't the brightest kid, but at least he was good at sports.

Often it is his father's voice asking him why he is such a disappointment.

On his bad days, it is Nancy's voice reminding him that his love is bullshit, that he is bullshit.

Eddie helps. Most days he makes the voices go away, or at least helps him quiet them.

But not today.

Today Steve woke up to a bad day.

That's why they canceled their plans to go to the Hopper-Byers' for a family picnic and decided to spend their Sunday on the couch instead, just the two of them.

That's why Steve is biting back the questions he's been dying to ask for hours. It's too much to ask, too raw, too needy. It would be like cutting himself open and showing Eddie the emptiness inside where a real person should be.

That's why he breaks so easily when Eddie looks down at him with a soft, adoring smile on his face and kisses the tip of Steve's nose.

Just like that. Like it's nothing. Like it's everything.

Like it's love.

"Why?" It bursts out of him like hot magma from an erupting volcano, spilling out of his mouth and leaving scorched earth in its wake.

Brown eyes widen in surprise, clearly not expecting a natural disaster in their living room.

"Why what, Stevie?" He asks, his fingers stopping their soothing ministrations, and Steve begins a tally of the casualties. That's one.

"Why are you doing this?" Steve demands, unable to contain the outburst. "Treating me like... like I'm something worth treating with so much care and gentleness? You canceled the picnic today like it's no big deal, but I know how excited you've been all week about your little campaign with the kids. Just because I'm too weak to handle a bad day. Why are you not angry? Why... why...?"

Why are you still here?

He can't say it, can't ask it, too afraid of the answer.

But Eddie hears it anyway, can see through Steve and his bullshit as if he were made of glass.

"Because I love you, Steve."

Steve hates that it sounds so simple when Eddie says it like that.

"But why?"

Steve scrambles into an upright position, can't bear to have this conversation lying down. He needs to be able to run and hide, to get away so he can lick his wounds.

Some of these thoughts must show on his face, or maybe it's just the way Eddie has learned to read him like an open book. Those dark chocolate eyes Steve loves to get lost in go impossibly soft as they take him in, and Eddie's calloused hands are so, so gentle as they grip Steve's own, as if Eddie is afraid he'll break him with one wrong move.

"There is no why, Stevie. I love you because I have to. Because there is no other way to exist in a world with you in it. No why, any more than there's a reason your hair does that floppy thing no matter how hard you try to tame it. Or why a gaggle of middle schoolers imprinted on you like ducklings, so now we're co-parenting them."

Eddie brings both of Steve's hands to his mouth and kisses them reverently before placing them on his own cheeks, silently asking Steve to hold him.

And Steve does, as if Eddie is the most precious thing he's ever held in his hands.

"Some days I felt like I wasn't even real, you know? Like I was imaginary, and if people stopped believing I was real, I would just disappear. So I invented myself every day so other people wouldn't have to. It was like who I really was was secondary to what I wanted everyone else to see. But not you. You saw me. You knew me, from the beginning. I can't really explain it any better than that. You make me real. And I love you. And there is no why, only a how. I love you like you're real too."

The voices in his head do not magically disappear, but when Steve kisses Eddie, he begins to feel like a real person, too.

[merakiui]

[01] 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝒾𝓇𝑒𝒷𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓉, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓇𝒶𝓋𝑒𝓃, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝑔𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓁 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁.

villain!azul ashengrotto x magical girl!reader note - welcome to this very impulsive magical girl parody! i'm not sure how many chapters it will be exactly, but i'm looking forward to writing more. i hope you'll enjoy reading! chapter navigation: [01] (you are here) // [02]

Magic is a messy, complex thing.

It can enchant and amaze with beautiful, endless possibilities. It can terrify with traumatic results. Like any sort of power in this world, it is a heavy responsibility for those who wield it. Everything has its dark side; you’re sure the same holds true for magic. No matter how marvelous it may be, surely there exists some shadow.

It’s also something you can’t use, and so the good and the bad don’t really apply to you!

Not that this is cause for envy. Rather, you’re relieved you don’t have to worry about experiencing the problems that accompany magic. You’ve got enough on your plate as it is; magic would only further complicate it. With no other plausible way to return to your world, you’ve had to make your home here on Sage’s Island. It’s an isolated place, boasting two elite magical universities and a bustling town.

It also happens to resemble a chicken wing on maps, so that’s a plus. Truly an ideal getaway! If only you weren’t trapped here indefinitely… Maybe then you’d have better appreciation for it.

As it happens, you’re a janitor living in the abandoned, decrepit dorm on the outskirts of campus. It took a month since you moved in, but you’ve managed to clean it up into a habitable space with the help of its resident haunts. The Headmage hasn’t been very helpful or present since your arrival, and so you’ve had to make do with what little you’ve been given. But for all of his troubling qualities, he isn’t inherently cruel. He’s kind enough to pay you for your services (but then that was only after you threatened him into an agreement), and he doesn’t overwork you (again, this is because you made it abundantly clear you won’t do anything if it violates your own sanity in some way, shape, or form). At least he’s willing to negotiate every time you argue for humane working conditions.

He’s an irksome guy. You can’t believe he has the gall to call himself the ‘embodiment of magnanimity’ when he’s done the bare minimum. Even the ghosts have offered more assistance and they don’t have any sort of authority here! You’re pleased to share a space with them. Sometimes they seem more reliable than the Headmage.

Despite your attempts to acclimate, the illustrious Night Raven College is still a place wholly unsuitable for a magicless human such as yourself. You’re the same age as some of the students here, but they feel like they’re on another level. Flying overhead on brooms, casting spells, mixing up potions… You listen in on some of their conversations while washing windows or sweeping the floors and wonder if all magic schools are this rigorous.

Maybe that’s any school regardless of its curriculum. Any sort of academic pursuit comes with difficulties; that’s normal. But magic is a facet unique to this world. There aren’t any arcane academies where you’re from, but now you wish there were. They seem so fascinating.

“Not much of my problem, though, is it?” you mumble, shaking free of that thought. Being a janitor is great. You can avoid the stress of school and keep up with the gossip exchanged in the halls. It’s like reading the newspaper, only it’s spoken instead of written.

Morning spills through the part in the curtains when you open them. You shut your eyes and bask in the warming glow of a sunshine smooch. It’s going to be another great day—you’re sure of this—and a day as pleasant as this deserves to be lived in its entirety. Perhaps you’ll have a picnic outside or you could even—

BAM.

Your eyes snap open just in time to view the raven who’s slammed itself against the window. Disoriented, it jerks itself up and away from the glass, flapping its wings wildly. You watch its attempts with a pitying frown. And then, inching closer to pull the window open to allow the raven respite, you see it: the blue flames racing towards you at a rapid speed.

With a yelp, you dive out of the way just in time. Due to the forceful blast, the window shatters in a spray of glass. Heat licks at your face, so hot it almost singes your brows, and you stumble to the other side of the room in a panicked daze.

“You lousy bird!” someone exclaims, the words pronounced in a growl. “Get back here so I can nab ya and prove that I’m worthy of bein’ at this school!”

The raven squawks, fluttering wildly about your room. A sleek, obsidian-colored feather floats into your hand. You don’t have time to admire it, for the curtains have just caught fire.

“Come on—I just put those up last week!” you bemoan, looking on in abject horror.

From the opening, a furry creature bursts through. He resembles a grey cat with his short, fluffy stature, but his tail is shaped strangely and there’s blue fire flickering from his ears. The same blue fire he’s currently conjuring in an attempt to catch the raven…

You grab hold of the coat rack—the nearest viable weapon you can think of—and jump in front of him. He startles and leaps back when you swing.

“What’re you doing?! You can’t do that in here! Fuck—my curtains! Don’t light anything else on fire!”

Baffled, the cat-creature scoffs at you. “How was I supposed to know someone’s livin’ in here? Not my fault!”

“It’s a residence! Of course someone lives here! I live here!”

“When they make me the Great Mage Grim, I’ll fix this place up for ya. That’s a promise! I just gotta catch that bird and prove myself a worthy candidate. Just you wait—they’ll be puttin’ my name up in lights!”

“Like hell they will!”

With a devastated groan, you whack the curtains down with the coat rack. They land in a heap, smoke curling from beneath the pile and sliding out the shattered window in dark, wispy tendrils. It takes a frazzled few stomps and smacks before the fire fizzles away, leaving you with charred curtains and the distinct stench of something scorched.

Still panting from the adrenaline rush, you loosen your grip on the coat rack. This is a mess. What am I going to do? I don’t have enough money to fix this!

You turn your hateful scowl on the cat-creature. “You!”

“W-Wait! Wait!” He raises a paw to his lips and gestures towards your bedside table. The raven sits perched, a golden chain wrapped around its neck and an envelope clasped in its beak. In all of the chaos, you must have missed that. “Don’t say a word. It’s right there.”

He approaches stealthily, slow as a sloth, and pounces. He misses narrowly, ending up with a mouthful of feathers instead. The raven caws and takes flight, circling overhead.

He spits feathers. “Myahaha! I got it! I actually—oh. Dumb bird… No one can escape the Great Grim.”

The raven lands on your shoulder next. It cocks its head at you.

“What? Is this for me?” you ask, even though you’re certain of the answer. You pluck the envelope from the raven, who sets to preening itself now that it’s no longer occupied.

“Give it here!” The cat-creature hops up onto your bed, reaching with an expectant paw. “That bird’s got my admission letter!”

“Your letter?” You hold it out of reach and stick your tongue out at him. “No ‘great mage’ sets someone’s home on fire. You’re a subpar mage, if anything.”

“I am not! You just wait—I’ll show you!”

“I don’t want to see anymore.” Turning away, you break the wax seal and procure the parchment waiting within.

He swipes at you impatiently. “Lemme see! What’s it say?”

Written in elegant script, complete with a stamp you’ve never seen before, it looks very official. Whoever wrote it is exceptionally good at cursive, their letters swooping together seamlessly. It’s almost like a decorative artwork with its double-looped O’s and dancing cursive. You marvel at the craftsmanship, wishing your handwriting could look as refined as this person’s.

To whom it may concern,  Greetings and congratulations on your admittance into the program! We recognize your outstanding achievements as a model student and believe you have what it takes to do wonderful things. It is with great pride that we bestow upon you a piece of magical history, referred to as The Tried-and-True Trident. You will find it enclosed in this letter.

You look up from the letter just as an aureate necklace lands in your palm. The raven blinks at you once before lifting itself off of your shoulder with a flap of its inky wings. It departs through the window, up into the cloudless, cerulean sky, in a flurry of feathers. There’s a tiny trident pendant hanging from the chain. It winks at you in the light, so shiny you think you might catch your reflection if you stare long enough. You’re not sure what part of it is tried or true, for it looks more like costume jewelry than anything. At least it’s cute. Kind of fashionable, even.

With this historic piece, you are now free to wield the wonders of the sea as you please. You are expected to use these powers to defend those you hold dear from the threat of tragedy. You should have met with your mentor already. If not, we shall send someone to escort you. We look forward to beholding your excellent heroics. Sincerely,

“Gimme that!”

Grim snatches the letter before you can glimpse the name signed at the bottom. The enchanted letter tears in two and then, before both of your eyes, it promptly disintegrates.

You eye the fuzzball with a fresh bout of vitriol. “What did you say your name was again?”

“It’s Grim—the Great Grim—and I promise ya as soon as I—”

“Good. Now I know what name to carve on your tombstone when I put you in the ground for ruining my letter!” You reach for the coat rack, expression ablaze with newfound ferocity.

Grim yelps and scurries away. “H-Hold on! I can fix it!”

“How? It’s ash!”

“Well, what did it say? I’m sure I can explain it to ya!”

“It said something about this necklace. The something-something trident. Protecting loved ones from tragedy. Admittance into some program. A mentor…”

“Mentor… Mentor! Yeah, that sounds about right!” Grim laughs proudly. “Aren’t you in luck, human! I’m gonna be your mentor.”

“Sure you are.” You rest your hand on your hip, brows raised. “The same cat who destroyed my window and curtains is gonna mentor me in whatever this is. Funny story.”

His jaw drops. “A-At least pretend like it’s cool! And I’m not a cat!” He hops off of your bed with a huff. “Ungrateful human. You’re undeserving of the Great Grim’s teaching anyways! I don’t need you!”

“Other way around.”

“You don’t need me!”

“There we go.” You applaud him sardonically. “Look, I don’t know what any of this is. I’m sure it was a mistake. I’m not even a student here.”

Grim, who had been on his way towards the door, halts. He turns to face you slowly. “Yer…not a student?”

“I work here. There’s no way for me to be enrolled here because I can’t use magic.”

“W-Wha—can’t use magic?! Then why did you get in, but I didn’t?!”

You can only shrug. The necklace twists idly when you hold it up for closer inspection. “So this thing is supposed to help me? Hey, Grim, do you know what this is?”

You lower to his height and hold your hand out. He watches you dubiously before approaching and leaning in to sniff at the chain.

“Smells fine to me. Kinda like wet metal.”

“I didn’t ask for a flavor profile.” You heave a tired sigh. The day’s only just begun and you’re already swamped with nonsense. “Maybe that Headmage knows something.”

Grim gasps. “You’re chummy with the Headmage? You think you could talk him into lettin’ me join?”

“Why do you even want in so badly?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m a renowned mage! They should be begging me to join!”

Anyone could’ve sent that letter. It might not even be from the Headmage… If I knew the sender’s name, I could just track them down and ask them. 

“You said you wanted to prove yourself, didn’t you?” You offer your hand again, this time to shake on it. “Become my mentor. That’ll show that Crowley you’re plenty capable. Then you can get into this school and I can find a way to return this necklace to its rightful owner.”

Grim folds his arms over his chest, avoiding your hand like it’s the plague. “And what’s in it for me? My services aren’t cheap, y’know!”

“You can live here with me. I’ll find ways to sneak you into the lecture halls if you wanna sit in and observe the class.”

“How about food?”

“Food is…” Nonexistent, really. That cheapskate Crowley! I’ve got to talk him into raising my pay. “I get paid at the end of this week. We’ll have to survive off of what’s in the fridge and the lunch I’m allowed to get from the cafeteria for now.”

Grim’s features soften. “Hm… I guess it’s not terrible. Could be better. But all great mages start from humble beginnings—including myself, but you’d never be able to guess!”

“Right…”

With how carelessly you tossed that fire around, you’re the last mage I should be partnering with.

“Do we have a deal, Grim? You’ll be my mentor and I’ll help you wherever I can.”

Grim places his paw in your palm, his chest puffed out. “You’d better start callin’ me Teacher!”

A smile strains on your lips. “Not happening.”

With a firm shake, your pact is made.

“So what spells do you know? Any that might be able to fix up a window and some curtains?”

“You don’t need those lame spells! The Great Grim can do plenty of other amazing feats.”

“Like?”

“Very amazing feats. Didn’t you hear me?”

“You don’t know anything, do you?”

Grim flinches, guilt flashing across his countenance.

“Is blue fire all you can summon?”

“I… I can do much more! This is just a fraction of my true power! If I had a magestone, this whole spell business would be a lot easier.”

“A magestone? Ah, those things the students have on their pens? I guess that would be helpful. Where can we get one, though?”

“I’d tell ya if I knew.”

“The library might know. If we head there now, we can spend the rest of the morning researching and then we can get lunch.” You reach to fasten the chain around your neck. It’s tucked under your shirt next, safe and sound. “Wait outside for a minute. I’ll change out of my pajamas, clean up the window, and then we’ll be on our way.”

Grim trots out the door without resistance. “I’ll grab a snack from the fridge while yer doin’ all that stuff.”

“One snack! Don’t eat everything!”

But he’s already bounding away, singing as he goes: “Free eats can’t be beat!” Sighing, you shut the door and turn to assess the state of your bedroom. It could be worse. Your bed could have been damaged, or you could have sustained quite the nasty burn.

One mess at a time.

You change into your uniform, which is really just a PE jumpsuit. The same one the students wear. This one has seen better days and it’s a size too big on you, but it’s all Crowley claimed to have on hand when you asked about work clothes. Once again, you soothe yourself with your favorite adage: It could be worse.

You could be homeless. You could be starving. You could be dead.

So it’s not so bad to wear the spare. It’s still got the dorm patch and class numbers sewn onto it, albeit both have worn considerably. Your eyes are drawn to them as you admire yourself in the mirror. Octavinelle Dorm… You’ve heard there are seven dormitories at this school, each based on a historical figure and representing the various spirits of these people. The sorting at the entrance ceremony was something special for the incoming first-years. You’d felt a little awkward to disturb such a grand occasion, even more so when the Dark Mirror announced to a hall full of talented mages that there isn’t an iota of magic in you.

Quite the humbling experience.

But sometimes you wonder which dorm the Dark Mirror would have chosen if your soul was bursting with magical capability.

As of now you’re a faux member of Octavinelle—whatever that implies.

By the time you’ve managed to sweep the glass, dispose of the ruined curtains, and patch the window with a temporary placeholder—what a relief for pasteboard and masking tape—Grim’s nearly through the few items left in your fridge. You yank him away just as he reaches for a container of leftovers.

“If you eat too much, you’ll spoil your lunch.”

“Can’t imagine that problem.”

“You sound so proud of your bottomless stomach.”

“And you’re not?”

You roll your eyes and tug your sneakers on. “Let’s be off.”

“How’re we gonna sneak me in?”

“How do you feel about becoming my temporary purse pet?”

Grim looks unimpressed when you hold your tote bag open for him. “No way!”

“It has lots of space and it’s stylish. Besides, shouldn’t your dedicated student pay proper respect to her great, glorious mentor?”

He doesn’t bother hiding his approving smirk. “Well, when ya put it like that…”

After Grim clambers into your bag, you lock the front door behind you and set off for campus.

“Please don’t blow our cover, Grim.”

From within the depths of your tote, he scoffs. “The Great Grim is the stealthiest mage you’ll ever meet!”

“I highly doubt that.”

It’s the second time you’ve found yourself in the library, but it’s still just as impressive as ever. You could spend hours here, wandering between shelves and skimming all sorts of tomes. Some of them are written in languages you can’t decipher, so you observe the pictures provided in hopes of gleaning any clues. Grim lounges on a chair beside you, absentmindedly turning through a thick textbook. You managed to find a relatively isolated corner in the very back and it’s not especially busy today. The promise of a hearty lunch keeps him well-behaved.

“Find anything?”

“Nothin’ important. Ugh. This stuff is the worst! Why can’t a magestone fall from the sky? That’d be a whole lot easier than this.”

“It sucks, yeah, but what else can we do?” You rest your face against your palm and scan through yet another page of information. “Let’s keep looking. I’m sure we’ll find something useful.”

“Nngh… I’m hungry.”

“You just ate.”

“That was hours ago!”

“Has it really been that long?”

“Feels like it.”

You lean back in your chair and stretch, listening to the satisfying snap of your joints as they crack into place. “Can you understand any of these words?”

“Most of ’em.”

You point to a specific place in the paragraph. “Can you tell me what this one means? I think I’ve got the general idea based on the graphics, but I could be wrong.”

Grim glances at it, his blue hues waltzing across the page. “It’s about merfolk.”

“Merfolk? They exist in this world?” And then you pause to gather your delayed thoughts. “Never mind. That would make sense.”

“What about ’em?”

“Where I’m from, merfolk aren’t real. They’re fiction.”

“Huh. A place without any merfolk… Bet they don’t have anyone like me either. I’m one of a kind!” Grim chuckles. “So where’re you from?”

You open your mouth to respond, but the sound of approaching footsteps interrupts. You usher Grim under the table, who goes but not without protest. He ducks under just in time, hiding within the shadows. A student rounds the corner and stops short when he sees you. He’s holding a few books in his arms, each looking more heavy than the last.

“Ah,” the both of you say in unison.

He clears his throat and offers you a cordial nod. “I wasn’t aware someone had already claimed this corner.”

You eye him carefully. He looks familiar. Glasses. Silvery-grey hair. Blue eyes. Where have you seen him before?

“It’s all yours. I was just leaving.” You move to stand, but he steps closer.

He peers at the open textbook lying in front of you. A smile you can’t quite classify as friendly spreads on his lips. “Is that so? You seem especially engrossed in this book.”

“I like to stay educated.”

I genuinely can’t understand a word in this text.

“On the anatomy of merfolk?”

You shut your mouth at once. That’s what this is? No wonder the diagrams looked…unique. But you’re too committed to your story to falter now.

“Especially the anatomy of merfolk.”

The student chuckles, but it sounds hollow to your ears. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you before. You’re in Octavinelle?”

You gape at him like a fish out of water before realizing the jumpsuit and its patch. “Oh! Ohhh, no, not at all. This is an old uniform.”

He looks at you with more scrutiny until it clicks. “I remember now. You’re the magicless girl who so carelessly interrupted—ah, forgive me—fortuitously appeared during the entrance ceremony last month.”

What a little fake. You narrow your eyes at him, suddenly defensive. Now you’re made aware of who he is. He was one of the few in the audience during your awkward arrival. Back then, he was clad in a robe with his hood up and so you only caught sight of his glasses and the swoop of his silvery-grey hair peeking out. You’re certain this is the same guy. You could’ve said that without the backhanded barb.

“So my reputation precedes me.”

He smiles and shakes his head. “I disagree. You’re still quite the mystery.”

“Well, there’s nothing to solve.” You rise from your seat, reaching for your bag. “I’m just a janitor trying to get by.”

He hums. You can’t decipher the meaning in that, but you don’t particularly care enough to drive yourself mad over it. You feel around on the chair for Grim. He was just here a moment ago…

You drop to your knees to check under the table. Your heart plummets into your stomach.

Grim, you had one job!

“Is something the matter?”

You pop up from beneath the table so fast that your head knocks into it. “Shit! Ow! Yeah, no, I’m fine. I thought I dropped my pencil.”

You scan the rest of the space as discreetly as you can. The student watches you. You don’t like the way he seems to stare through you as if intending to gain access to your very soul. As if he sees something you don’t.

“Have a wonderful day. Study hard. Pass your tests. Get—uh—the scholarship or whatever.” 

Flashing him your most nonchalant grin, you make your way down the aisle at a pace that is the exact opposite of relaxed. There’s no time to dwell on that off-kilter exchange. You’ve got a runaway cat-creature in dire need of capture!

The one day I take off and it’s the day my window’s ruined, I get a weird letter, and my new roommate is missing. That’s horrible luck!

You walk briskly through the library, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. Grim couldn’t have gotten far. You were only distracted for a few minutes, and the library is huge. Perhaps he’s just lost and waiting in place for you to find him. For some reason you can’t fool yourself into believing this train of thought.

Your search takes you out of the library and down the hall. Where could he have possibly gone? Surely he didn’t make his way back to Ramshackle. You check the time on your watch. It’s almost lunch.

Lunch! Of course!

You hurry towards the cafeteria with rekindled purpose.

I’m going to start calling him Gluttonous Mage Grim if he makes this a habit!

Fortunately, Grim is predictable. You’ve only known him for a day—not even—but it’s not so difficult to pinpoint his location after you’ve worked out his motivations. Unfortunately, you make it to the cafeteria just as the grand chandelier falls from its support in the ceiling, crash-landing in a broken heap. And standing just feet away from the damage, looking very guilty, is Grim alongside two students you’ve never seen before. Crowley’s there as well, just as frazzled as the feathers on his coat. He’s in the middle of lecturing them about the importance of this relic—how it’s been with the school since it was founded and it’s an irreplaceable piece that would cost over a billion Madol to fix—when he takes notice of you.

“(Name), it’s devastating! A most heart-wrenching tragedy! Why, it’s enough to bring one to tears.”

“Seems so…” You shoot Grim a vicious look. So much for being covert. Not so stealthy now, huh? “I’ll get the broom.”

“No, not yet. These three—” he turns towards them, yellow eyes fierce— “are expelled!”

“Expelled?!” the navy-haired student exclaims. He looks like he’s just stared Death in the face. “This can’t be… What will my mother think? I promised her I was gonna get good grades, attend all of my classes, pass my tests…”

“Hey, it’s not my fault. That hairball’s the one who started it!” the other argues, his arms folded over his chest.

“No way! It wasn’t me!”

Crowley clicks his tongue. “Unbelievable. This school has zero tolerance for blatant tomfoolery. Surely you’re all aware…” He pauses to look at Grim. “And you! You’re not even a student here! Just what are you doing, trespassing on school property?”

Grim flounders dizzily. “Spinning…”

“He’s my roommate.” All eyes flick towards you. “I’m letting him stay for now. Sorry if that breaks any rules. I just don’t believe in turning others away, even if they’re prone to causing trouble.”

“What a noble soul,” Crowley murmurs, impressed. “Well, if that’s the case, seeing as he’s nothing more than a talking pet cat—”

“I ain’t a pet or a cat!”

“I’m afraid my previous statement still remains in place. He’s not to be on school grounds.”

“You heard the Headmage. No school for you.”

But Grim’s already lying flat on the floor like a defeated pancake.

“Then what about us? That hairball can’t get the easy way out and leave us with the worst of it!”

“There’s a way to fix this, isn’t there?”

“Y-Yeah! Can’t you just use magic to fix it right up? It’ll be good as new. Someone with your skill should be able to do it.”

Crowley shakes his head, mournful. “Magic is not limitless. Not only that, but the magestone powering this great chandelier is cracked. And those are not so easily replaced. I fear this is the final day this miraculous chandelier will ever grace this grand hall with its light.”

The ginger-haired student grimaces. “Not good…”

The other withers. “Expelled… What am I going to do? I can’t go back home with this news!”

A magestone… That’s what Grim needs. You glance at the one set into the chandelier. A ghastly crack runs up the surface. Are they really that special?

Before both can succumb to their melancholy, Crowley says, “There is one way! Possibly…”

“Really? What is it?” they say at once, eyes bulging with hope.

“This very magestone was mined from the Dwarfs’ Mine. Perhaps, should you procure one of similar qualities, the chandelier can be repaired.”

“Then… Okay! I’ll get a magestone! As long as it’s all right with you, sir.”

“Ah, but the mines have been closed for some time. I reckon the magestones are all but gone.”

“I’m sure I can find one. Please, sir, I’ll do anything to stay here!”

Crowley seems to consider this. Eventually, he nods his approval. “I’m willing to postpone your expulsion for now.” The navy-haired student’s relief is short-lived when he adds, “However, if you fail to bring a magestone to me by the first rays of the morning sun, it will be expulsion for the both of you. No further exceptions.”

With a hasty nod, he says, “Of course! I understand! Thank you so much for the second chance. I won’t let you down!”

“Yeah, sure. Let’s get this over with.”

You gather an unconscious Grim in your arms while Crowley instructs the students on how to access the mine. They stride off with different degrees of enthusiasm. You open your mouth to ask permission, but Crowley beats you to it.

“Please do accompany them. I trust you’re responsible enough to handle any trouble?”

“If you raise my pay, I’ll do anything.”

He clutches his chest. “Your proclivity to bargain strikes through to my very soul! Ah, but since I am the kindest Headmage I shall grant your request.”

With a satisfied grin, you hold Grim tighter and run off after the pair. “Thanks again, Headmage!”

You follow them all the way to the Mirror Chamber. It’s just as imposing as you recall, but there’s a serene quality to the space that wasn’t there before. Maybe it’s because you’re here willingly and there isn’t an audience to witness your poorly timed debut.

You approach both of them. “Hey! Sorry to bother, but could I join you?”

They turn to look at you. Grim shifts in your arms, groaning.

“I don’t see why not. Welcome to the team,” the navy-haired student says with an awkward smile.

“Might as well. More people means a faster chance at finding that magestone.” He points at Grim next. “And he better be coming, too.”

“That’s the plan. I’ll make sure he won’t cause any problems for you.”

He sighs and shakes his head. “Today’s just not my day. What bad luck…”

“No time to sulk. We’ve gotta get that magestone,” the other says, turning towards the mirror. “Dark Mirror, the Dwarfs’ Mine!”

Grim jerks awake then. “Myaah?! Where am I? What’s goin’ on?”

You hold onto him tightly, preventing him from squirming out of your arms. “Relax. You’ll be fine. I think.”

“What d’ya mean by that?!”

The Dark Mirror brightens with life. There’s a blinding flash of light and then, just like that, you’re taken to the mine’s entrance.

Magestone, here we come!

[blakeblueboi]

Happy (Late) Valentine's Day!!!

Draco: Potter, we agreed no gifts- Harry: I know! I know, I just- Harry: I know we said no gifts, Draco- but I was thinking about this past year and- and well, I never thought that we'd be well- we'd be- Harry: Us- you know? I know we just started seeing eachother and it's new, like you said, but isn't that reason enough? Harry: Reason enough to celebrate that it is so new? Harry: Before this year I thought that wasn't remotely a chance for us- I see now that I was wrong Harry: I was so wrong about so many things- and I hope that can at least- Harry: Make yo for that- even if it as last week that you even let me start using your first name and - -Inaudiable Harry- esque rambling- Draco: Do you ever shut up? Harry: Wha- mmph!!

The corridor rang with newfound silence as Potter's voice was abruptly swallowed in the matter of a second. Draco's ears were so unused to the lack of incessant rambling that they became muffled in shock.

The kiss, in the loosest sense of the definition, only lasted a few moments before Draco leaned back away from Potter's slightly parted ones he had seized midsentence. His grip on his tie only tightened however as Draco fixed the gaping Gryffindor with a hard glare.

Or at least he tried to. The look in Potter's eyes stole away any sort of insult or rebuttal from Draco's throat.

Stormy grey met electric green and in an instant Draco realized his mistake.

That had been their first kiss.

Their first kiss.

Draco had only wanted to shut the blubbering git and not only had he kissed Potter for the first time-- on Valentine's day no doubt-- but in the middle of the 7th floor corridor. Potter had dragged him up there without explanation, now obviously for gift giving but it was no less a public space.

Draco could feel eyes on him at all sides, from all directions even if he couldn't see or discern who exactly was there watching them.

Heat crawled up Draco's face like a creeping Acromanchula complete with pinprick of little fangs over his cheeks and down his neck. He was no better than a beet red third year as he stood there under with still silently shocked Potter's everlasting gaze. A gaze that under normal circumstances he would have preened under.

Draco's body acted on its own. With a flourish of quick and familiar magic his body bent and shifted until his pink paws plopped onto the cold cobblestone floor. With a scramble Draco bolted from the hallway, luckily with the pretty red ribbon that was wrapped around the box secured in his teeth.

The sound of Potter's voice calling after him fell on deaf ears as Draco's let his swift feline body carry him as far away as possible. As quickly as possible.

"Do you think he'll wear it?"

Harry had been a mess. So much so that he would rather take a hundred Bat Boogy hexes from Ginny back in fifth year than be in the predicament he was in at the moment.

"Harry, mate, you're starting to sound like a second year--" Ron told him indignantly from beside him with a clean chicken leg in his fist.

"Ron, I don't think you're helping--" Hermione scolded him from her spot across from them over her N.E.W.T.S level charms textbook and a half eaten dollop of strawberry pudding.

"No offense, but we are talking about Malfoy- the git is probably trying to decide which bedazzled silver trash can he's going to chunk it in- OW!!" Hermione swatted Ron over the head with her new closed charms textbook.

"Ronald, honestly you could at least try to be a little supportive for your best friend! You're making it worse!!" She hissed with a hard glare across the table at her boyfriend.

It was, indeed, making Harry's mood that much worse. He hadn't seen Draco all day since he gave him his Valentine's gift and he was starting to really believe he had botched their entire relationship. It wasn't enough that he had gotten Draco a gift when Draco had specifically told him that they were absolutely not getting each other gifts on what he described as a pathetic excuse for a holiday, but he'd gotten him something that was most definitely going to make it that much worse.

A glance over at the Slytherin table only threw his mood into the gutter when he saw Draco's usual spot empty. It wasn't like he couldn't have run after him that morning. He definitely could have. Especially in his larger, nimbler animgus form. But the thought only dug up memories of sixth year and a certain third floor bathroom. Even if the confrontation wouldn't have gone exactly like that now of course, it still kept Harry rooted to the cobblestones as he watched the white cat sprint away.

The loud swing of the Great Hall's massive doors didn't even rouse Harry to look up. He'd fallen for that trick too many times this evening to know that he wouldn't see a shock of white-blonde hair and pretty stormy grey eyes enter through it.

"Harry--" Hermione's voice whispered to him from across the table.

Harry hardly heard her over the uproar from the Slytherin table. Namely around a certain now occupied spot behind him.

"Bloody hell, Harry- did you really get that slimy git that? That must have cost a fortune!"

Ron'd words were drowned out by the sight of Draco Malfoy proudly, practically glowing with a self-satisfied smile on his beautiful face. His eyes twinkled with the light of the ever-burning candles above them and the pink glitter below that decorated every house table. His cheeks were a soft pink as Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott all gawked at him.

Or namely at what was clasped around his neck.

A silver necklace was visible above his tie and glittered in the light. It was made up of dazzling white and clear gemstones that shone various colors depending on the wearer's mood and the light around them like a prism. It was absolutely stunning, especially with the pink and rose red they were emitting onto Draco's perfectly pale skin. Harry had enlisted Hermione's help with making sure that the necklace would expand and shrink whenever Draco was in either of his forms.

Aside from what it was made out of-- it was truly a necklace but the length of it could have made it something else entirely.

That something else being a collar.

Stormy grey finally met Harry's green across the table and Draco's cheeks flamed with an instant and uncontrollable blush. A small smile was exchanged between them and words that went unsaid passed through their gazes.

Harry turned and that smile grew into a big grin despite a groan from Ron and another swat of her book on his head from Hermione.

Maybe Harry hadn't mucked things up that badly that Valentine's Day.

Fin.

WOw this took way longer than I thought it would lol