#just a phone doodle that I spent too long on

[goldiipond]

AAAA tell me about your post canon raydon hcs!! if you please!!

answering this a few days late bc my brain is full of bees but AWWWWW HELL YAH THANK YOU!! THEY MEAN THE WORLD TO ME so!!

fair warning this is really long. i don't know how this happened. what. <3

i like to think they start dating probably a few months after getting to the human world. they had developed romantic feelings for each other a while before that (likely sometime during the vol12 timeskip because they had a lot of time to grow closer while traveling <3) but it took them both a bit to realize those feelings especially due to being a bit preoccupied with. all the problems <3 they were obviously still really close and important to each other regardless

ray was probably the first to realize the way he loved don was different from the way he loved everyone else. he probably didn't really think much about the way he got butterflies whenever he was near don until he took a moment to be like oh. fuck. a more funny alternative to this is him offhandedly mentioning the way don makes him feel to emma and norman (i am looking away from emmas memory loss i do not see it <3) n being like 'yeah that's weird huh. anyway' and they just sit there like. i know what you are

it's not that don is oblivious, at least not to his own feelings. i think it might take him a bit longer to realize his feelings for ray because he's just. always allowed himself to love everyone so much more openly and freely than ray has. don has soo much love that he is constantly giving to others that he doesn't really. see his constant desire to be near ray as anything unusual for a while. he does notice how uncharacteristically shy he gets around ray, and his thought process was probably a gradual shift from 'well i didn't really get to have a bond with ray like everyone else growing up so i don't really know what he's okay with' to 'well of course i'm nervous. ray's so cool and smart and amazing so anyone would be nervous. this is true' he's a dork but he does figure it out eventually <3

after getting to the human world they naturally start hanging out with each other a lot more. once they both have some idea of their own feelings they take every chance they can to hang out together because being around each other just feels so nice. they're very sweet <3

i talked abt this in the tags of the post that prompted this ask hsfgfg but its really sweet to me so!! i think after ray's reaction to the hug in chapter 148 don makes sure to be more aware of and respectful of ray's boundaries regarding physical touch. he tries to make his intentions clear before hugging him and give ray a chance to say no if he doesn't want to be touched at the moment. the sheer amount of affection don had to give was really overwhelming for ray at first, but as they hang out more he slowly becomes more comfortable with don's touch and eventually builds up the confidence to start initiating contact himself as well <3

adding on to that last sentence, don has no idea how to react to this at first. he is so much more used to giving others affection than receiving it that when ray holds his hand for the first time his brain just factory resets. it's not like he's not used to receiving affection at all, but he's just. a very affectionate person so when someone, especially ray, initiates instead he just gets super emotional <3 it is not hard to make don emotional and ray is at least partially responsible for 3 separate instances of don crying happy tears in the manga so. he just loves him very much ok

don would probably be the one to confess his feelings! it was something he spent days hyping himself up for and then finally did on one of their hangouts. i can imagine don stumbling over his words even though he rehearsed them several times and ray doesn't know what he's talking about and he's trying not to laugh because man he's just so cute. and then don takes a breath and just gently takes ray's hands and says 'i like you, ray. i've liked you for a really long time.' and ray is just so taken aback he's just. absolutely speechless. and don asks if he'd like to go on a date sometime and ray just loses his composure completely and starts crying and all he can manage is a shaky 'yeah...' and don is a little shocked because its so rare to see ray cry like this but then he's just so overjoyed he hugs ray as tightly as he can and they both start laughing and AAAUGH. sorry what. my demons

it might take them a little bit after they first start dating to really 'act' like a couple? they're both new to the concept of dating as a whole and have no idea what they're doing but i don't think it'd take too long for them to sort of go back to the level of comfort and familiarity they had before. ray has some lingering feelings of self-doubt over whether he really 'deserves' someone as amazing as don but being around him just feels so right and don's affection is typically enough to reassure him at least a little. if he ever voiced these feelings to don i think don would go off on a massive tangent about everything he loves about ray and how he means the world to him and probably get a little too emotional and ray wouldn't really know how to react but he would be touched to say the least and he'd probably think about don's words a lot for. a very long time

while a lot of don's poor self-esteem is resolved over the course of the series, i think he might still experience some self-doubt on rare occasions as well, and he might have trouble opening up to ray about his problems at first. don has always been very open about his emotions, but when it comes to ray he knows all the shit he's been through and his own issues might seem. silly when compared to ray's? he isn't afraid ray would judge him, but he also doesn't really feel like he's 'justified' in causing ray to worry about him when he's been through so much already. but at this point ray knows don well enough to sense something is wrong and when he gets don to eventually tell him this he just explains that he never wants don to feel like his needs aren't as important as his own, and that he wants to be there for don the same way don's always there for him. then he pulls him close and softly says 'tell me what's wrong, don.' and don just breaks and ray just holds him and lets him get it out and its just. very very sweet jdastsadgdsghgdfggfdfghjg. i;m unwell

plagiarizing my tags from my most recent art of them but their first real kiss was initiated by ray! theyre probably cuddling a bit and just talking about whatever and he doesn't really realize what he's doing until he has don's face cupped in his hands and suddenly his heart is pounding and his hands are shaking and he can't even make eye contact and he just says really quietly, 'can i kiss you?' and don is so absolutely awestruck that all he can manage to do is pull ray closer and nod and its just so. it's about the little burst of confidence after a childhood of self-loathing its about the soft tenderness they both deserve so so much it's about [stares into the ocean

OKAY those were long (<- unwell) time for some more general hcs [strikes a pose]

ray is gay and don is bi! don's line about wanting to date a cute girl in s1 plays and then ray walks into the frame and don's like oh. a cute boy is also good

they're also t4t because all of my ships are t4t. you understand

while i mentioned him being more mindful of ray's boundaries, don is just soo physically affectionate that he doesn't even realize he's doing it sometimes and it makes ray's head spin. i can imagine them walking together and don just sort of grabbing ray's hand without really thinking about it and it taking him a good moment to notice 'hey ray's face looks a lot redder than usual wonder what's up with that' and then taking just a bit longer before being like OH. fool <3

MORE PHYSICAL AFFECTION YAYY anyway ithink they cuddle a lot. ray is 'i need to be swaddled and snug at all times' autism and don is 'if im not constantly holding or snuggling something i'll die' autism and thats why they are the perfect couple

once they do get more comfortable being a couple i think cheek kisses become a very common occurrence among the usual affection, especially from don. they both get flustered pretty easily, but when don kisses ray's cheek he just melts. this also creates a scenario where if don's on ray’s left he'll push ray's fringe to the side so he can kiss him. don did this once and whispered 'my emo boy <3' and ray almost died of laughter

adding onto that last scenario, don likes to think of the most unbearably cheesy pet names specifically to get ray's reaction. if it came to serious ones though i don't think don would use them that often if at all because he just really loves ray's name <3 ray lovingly calls don a dork all the time though

don really likes playing with ray's hair. goes with my hc that ray grows his hair out a bit and his hair is also probably really soft and don loves it. the feeling of don running his fingers through his hair is really calming and comforting to ray and don's probably the only one who could get away with touching it for any extended period of time

they have movie nights with emma, norman and gilda (because im weak for the 'group of best friends ends up living together' trope) and they all usually end up falling asleep in a big pile on the couch. ray usually snuggles up against don and ends up using him as a pillow <3

speaking of friends i have a really funny hc where it was very very common for ray to playfully tease norman when he had a crush on emma, so once he notices how hopelessly smitten ray is with don, norman is an absolute menace. they are the besties ever to me

don absolutely adores ray's singing. ray hums to himself while cooking and don will just come up behind him and wrap his arms around him and just listen to his voice, and sometimes he'll ask ray to sing for him and listen with this look of just. pure adoration <3 ray's not that confident in his singing and i think it's something that's very personal to him as he really only did it as a coping mechanism growing up, but seeing the way don lights up when he sings is really really special to him and i think it'd get him to appreciate his own voice more as well <3

on the other hand ray really loves don's laugh. it's just very loud and unrestrained and genuine like everything else don does and ray's heart absolutely melts when he hears it. ray will find any excuse to make don laugh <3

ray has come a long way with his healing in the years since the gracefield escape, but he still has lasting scars from that trauma that will never fully go away and don will drop everything to comfort him through his more emotional moments and the rare panic attack. it means a lot to ray that he's finally able to cry freely and openly and don will hold him as tight as he can and run his fingers through his hair and listen to him for as long as he needs. im very emotionally stable about this incase you were wondering

ray is a serial clothing thief. don's sweaters just feel warmer somehow <3 ray will walk into the room in the morning wearing a pink t-shirt with a bunny on it and the others instantly know it's not his HDSFG

don canonically gets warm really easily so i think if they were somewhere outdoors and ray got cold don would give him his jacket without question. ray felt bad leaving don without anything to keep himself warm and knew don wouldn't take no for an answer so he settled on giving don his scarf as a compromise. don got really really emotional over ray offering him such an important comfort item and tried to decline but ray also wouldnt take no for an answer so he ended up accepting it <3 it meant a lot to both of them

don is prone to going on long enthusiastic rants when he’s excited about something and his joy is so contagious for ray he just can't help but smile and laugh along with him. he can absolutely talk ray's ears off and ray adores every word and sometimes they might even start happy stimming together <3 autistic love its everything to me. you understand

OKAYTHATS. ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT FOR NOW <3<3<3 i definitely have more but i'd have to dig for them and i feel this post is really long so <3 but yeah they mean a lot to me. here's a kinda old little doodle i'm still really fond of as prize for reading this ridiculously self-indulgent rant

[be-good-to-bugs]

2022

[g1rld1ary]

overheard that she was nineteen - james potter x reader

wc: 1058

cw: nothing, one swear, reader is sad on their birthday, implied fem!reader but i don't think any pronouns

chat how many aura points do i lose for crying in the literal first 20 minutes of my nineteenth birthday :/ don't think about this fic too hard or you'll see it's more of a diary entry than work of fiction oopsie :')

You weren't feeling very special. To be quite honest, your day had been totally shit. It was your birthday, your nineteenth birthday and everyone had forgotten. Well, that wasn't true exactly, but nobody cared. Your parents had barely said 'happy birthday' when you called them, and only one of your friends had texted you. A sweet message, but still kind of depressing.

You knew it shouldn't have been a big deal, no one cared about nineteen, right? Eighteen was the big birthday and you'd had a good enough day last year, so you weren't really sure why this year had brought you down so much.

Maybe it was just because your love of birthdays was never reciprocated. A person's birthday could be the most exciting day of the year, and you were of the opinion that it should be, if possible. You were the one who showed up with a hand-baked cake on your friend's doorstep, without fail. It was something you enjoyed doing undoubtedly, you spent ages picking out which colour the icing should be and what edible decorations should go on top.

On top of that, you considered your defining talent to be writing cards. It was something you took pride in, penning almost-essays that encapsulated the breadth and depth of your love for your nearest and dearest. Proclamations of never-ending adoration, gratitude for years of friendship, the insides of your heart and soul sitting amongst fresh ink and scribbled hearts. You signed your name with a heart and a flower every time. Plus, you made particular efforts to come up with a creative pun or doodle for the front, just to keep things interesting.

So birthdays were things you held in high regard, and having yours seemingly mean nothing to anyone else was a bit of a mood killer if you were being totally honest. Still, what could you do? You picked yourself up, ate an uninspiring breakfast and went to uni.

You felt more anonymous than usual in class. With the semester having started only a week prior, you were in a sea of new people, none of them having any way of knowing it was your birthday, and you weren't quite at the point where you were begging for well-wishes from people you didn't particularly care about. And so you took notes, put your hand up for the participation grade and dreamed of your own cake and candles.

By the end of the day you were exhausted. The classes were long anyway, but carrying around your own personal grey cloud was taking a toll on your body and mind. It was at the car park when your phone dinged; James.

are you coming over tonight?

please

You smiled a little despite your sour mood. Even if James didn't seem like he was fully aware of your outlook on birthdays, being with him always made you feel better.

It'd already been dark for an hour or so by the time you reached the flat he shared with the boys, the winter weather making the sun disappear at four o'clock. You knocked on his door softly, unable to pluck up the strength to even make your presence easily known. James must've been waiting for you though, since you heard the heavy pad of his feet almost instantaneously.

The sight of him nearly took your breath away, though nothing was out of the ordinary. He was still the same old James, his glasses slightly askew on his nose, but he was looking at you with such softness that you felt the tears spike behind your eyes. You tried to push them down.

"I thought we'd have a bit of an early dinner. I know you won't have eaten at uni." He took your bag, setting it by the entry table softly. You managed to nod, hopefully not giving away all your awful feelings. You tried not to be cut up that he hadn't wished you a happy birthday yet.

All of your melancholy had been for nothing, you realised, when James led you to the dining table. He'd gone the full mile, with a cheesy red tablecloth and single candle as the centrepiece.

"Happy birthday, my love," He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. You couldn't help it, the tears rolling down your cheeks before you even realised. Once they started you had no chance, sobs wracking through your body as James stood beside you, bewildered.

"Is this not okay? Do you not like it?" He fretted as you cried, and you rushed to reassure him.

"I love it, Jamie, promise. It's just," You managed a half laugh through your bout of tears, "I thought no one cared. I can't believe you've done this for me." James' brow furrowed deeper than you'd ever seen it before as he pulled you into a tight hug.

"I would do anything for you, love. I mean it."

Once your tears had subsided you had a lovely dinner, James making you double over with laughter as all thoughts of your previous shit day dissolved under the weight of the homemade pasta sitting in your stomach.

Just before the night died down, James presented you with a small box, wrapped in the most beautiful silky ribbon. You glanced up at him curiously, untying it slowly. Inside was the most beautiful bracelet you'd ever seen. Connected with a heart-shaped clasp and decorated with a single charm, a love letter. You were embarrassed by the tears working their way back up to your lash line, but James looked delighted by the reaction, he lived to make you happy.

"Thank you," You whispered, "I love you."

James didn't have to say it back for you to know, but he did anyway because it made him happy.

Maybe your birthday wasn't the flashy event you might've wanted, however deep down, but you were strangely okay with it. Despite the fact that no one showed up to your door with a hand-baked cake or essay-length card, you had James, and James would've pulled the stars down from the sky if he thought it would boost your mood. That was enough.

[bambisnc]

he's the one that's livin' in my system baby! [01]

pairing : sungchan x reader genre : fluffy roommates au <3 lil angst bc reader is really out here questioning their whole existence (js like me fr) cw/tw : none! wc : 516 w 0.0

10 days to go till finals. you are not holding up as well you would have liked. it's not as if you're not studying it's just.. the need to achieve near perfect status in each subject leads to anxiety which in turn leads to procrastination. shocker.

you sigh, pushing your chair away from the desk and stretch in an attempt to provide relief to your sore muscles - a result of being hunched over your notebook, doodling away mindlessly. you were supposed to have completed 4 chapters by now, but the 20 minute turned 3 hour break you spent watching random videos on your laptop very generously gave you a aching throb behind your eyes. hence the doodling, in an attempt to alleviate the pain.

..needless to say, it wasn't very successful. okay, you think, time for the last resort. you walk out of your room to the one adjacent to yours, and knock on its door lightly.

"'s open"

peeking your head in, your heart can't help but feel a little lighter at the sight of your roommate, sungchan, lounging on his bed with his back against the wall as he cutely frowns at some game on his phone, having already been through the hell that is finals about a week ago due to being in a different uni.

"i really don't know why you even borrow to knock anymore, not like i'd ever say no to you - even if you're just going to stand and stare at me~", being charming always comes naturally to him, unfortunately for you.

huffing a bit, trying to think of a witty reply, but that headache really just hates your entire existence huh? you wordlessly move to his bed. somehow sungchan understands what you're trying to do and complies with your wish without a single complaint because, in his own words, how could he ever say no to you?

pulling you closer to him, he lays your head on his thigh, draping a throw blanket over you with such gentleness that one could easily perceive the concern in his actions, maybe a bit too much considering you were just roommates.. because he refuses to address his feelings, preferring instead to hide behind flirty remarks - you've emphasized their friendship one too many times. he adjusts his crossed legs, phone long forgotten, as he tucks that one strand of hair that always falls on your face behind your ear.

you hear him mumble something about resting well. and then a feather soft, barely there brush of his lips against your forehead.

the slumber that follows after is heavenly, you swear you always sleep better around (or on) sungchan. not that you would ever breathe a single word of this to him. he's your roommate for god's sake - you'd rather suffer under the weight of unrequited feelings than to confess and damage the beautiful relation you've managed to form with the star athlete, who believes teasing you is a daily goal that he must fulfill.

on second thoughts, you're not sure how long you can keep your facade up...

old notes : so so self indulgent.. i'll make a prettier layout as soon as my exams r done frfr... [edit- doneish !] new notes : its a series now !11!!!! + [series m.list] [m.list]

[aebeism]

it's time to go — bada lee

synopsis : stress takes over your brain, to the point where you wander through a world you can’t remember much about. while your memories are gone, bada, love and sadness are the only things you carry with you for a while — as well as your limitations in having and offering each.

wc : 2.1k

warnings : angst, ex!bada, reader suffers from temporary memory loss, homophobia, clichés, mention of reader as y/n, lowercase intended. inspired by paris, texas by lana del rey.

'how long would it take for you to forget me?' you would ask. 'a lifetime wouldn't be enough' bada would always say, without fail. it's been months since you last saw your ex. or smiled. and you're back in the country, nervous to see her again, when she insists on taking you for a walk, which seems to be going smoothly . . until she gets weirded out by all your questions and the fact you seem genuinely lost at everything.

but, even though you're not together anymore, she cares a lot for you, enough that she doesn't mind retelling bibles and bibles of the endless moments you spent together. that is, until your eyes light up at the map you come across on her phone case.

"we've been to france before, haven't we?" your voice echoes through the place you're in, the moonlight shining through bada's blonde strands as she seems to glow softly, as a whole.

she only seems to be able to whisper, as if that’d keep her feelings suppressed well enough. "we have. paris, with barely anything but a suitcase" she slightly smiles at the memory. "i'd take you there again, if i could."

silence floods the air around you.

"why can't you?" you stare at her face, intensely, waiting for her answer as you clench your hand into a fist.

"you know why" she says, and your heart aches at the familiarity of her look. "because i loved you, so i can't anymore. and you remember i hardly ever change my mind, don't you?"

“i do” you nod, even more confused, eyes stuck on the map that she had let you take from her hand. the tiny map tucked inside her phone case is covered in doodles — lines and hearts mark so many places. "why does spain have a heart?"

"that's where we performed together for the first time" she sounds happy until you question further.

"you still love me, right?" your voice is soft, you don't raise your tone, nor did you try to force the sentence into her head. yet, bada seems like she was struck by a thunder right next to her ears.

it's no surprise that bada was caught off guard, her head tilted from an angle that would make her eyes stare at yours directly. "why ask that?" she says, her voice a bit shaky.

"hm . . you said that in the past. and you still keep this thing, with hearts on both countries."

"ah. yeah" bada shifts her attention back to the paper, her eyes slowly direct themselves to your shaky hands and your shivering body, and it makes her question why you're shaking so much even though what surrounds you is a warm summer breeze. she gives you a look, her eyes taking a peek at your face as she slowly says the next sentence. "for the memories. i don’t know about now. people never really understood our love, y/n. all of my friends could show off their lovers, and some were more loved by people than others, but you always had to be my secret just because we're both women. . and i hated that."

you don't seem to recall that, you can't seem to remember what she's talking about. yet, for some reason, as painful as a heart-wrenching breakup could be . . it still burns all over your chest; the pain seems to spin, and twist your insides, in flames. perhaps, the pain was made from acid and was turned into acid as it burns your whole body. your eyes water for a second, and you frown. your expression shows that you're a bit too lost by your own emotions.

"the more they knew, the worse it got. we've been over this, y/n, don't cry" bada's words seems to pierce your heart, they make your stomach churn as you stare intensely down to the ground beneath you.

the new sentence only adds to your confusion, and although you understand every single word, you don't even know why you're here anymore, or why it hurts so much, why a woman so pretty remains by your side. it feels like your brain is trying to reconnect to reality in the middle of the night but can't catch up on anything.

“this isn’t funny” you mumble, your hands shaking, and your jaw closes up as you furrows your brows. your brain tries to work to its max as you try as hard as you can to figure out what's going on.

"it really isn’t. i proposed to you here, in venice, not long after you joined our team. and we broke up in california, remember?" she shows you the circle around italy and a small dot in the united states. "it was sweet while it lasted, though, wasn't it? our friends would get drunk on any shit they could get their hands on and pass out, and you'd just be talking and dancing with me. my memories of you are really pure, y/n."

her tone is warm, her words are just as lovely, her eyes still sparkle whenever they glance at you. but there's something so heavy behind all of that, that knowing her, you can feel it even though you can't tell what it is.

"but it really was time to let you go" bada says, a deep sigh leaves her mouth as she shifts her gaze up to look at the sky, and you think you can see the corner of her eyes starting to turn red as her eyes sparkle so brightly.

while your mind remains empty, malfunctioning even, you stare and stare as it starts to get a bit too hazy. bada's mind, in another case . . is running through all the flashbacks of the flight you two took together back home, the time when you had to leave as you two were breaking up, the many times she agonized as she wanted to call you but knew she shouldn't, she let herself sink into her own loneliness . . everything burns behind her eyes. and staring at the pain she possessed hurts you just as badly.

if you could remember all the good things she did to you right now, at this moment, you think you wouldn't be able to live with yourself anymore.

. . but, in reality, you really can't live with yourself. because you do remember.

that's why life's been so stressful. that's why suddenly your memory has a gap.

"i hope you can forgive me for that" bada says, her tone ever so softly as she still looks up at the sky. her face lights up a smile, so, so bitterly.

your brain unwires slowly as she speaks and you're met again with that look on her face, one that could make your heart ache and your stomach churn from the pain it feels. bada's watered eyes make your cheeks wet unintentionally as you dodn't realize how a cheeky tear softly rolls down the surface of your skin.

"and i'd rather you didn't ask me about love anymore, if you could" bada speaks up again. this time, she turns her head to look into your eyes, and you feel like she's begging you with how intense her gaze is.

"but our love is so sweet, why wouldn't i?" you say, your hand raises up to wipe the tears that are waiting to sneakily roll down your cheeks once again before you clench your hands into a fist, as an attempt to hold your tears back. "people don't understand it, but does that really even matter if we understand each other?" your voice is yet again so soft, unlike how determined bada sounds like when she asks you to stop asking about your relationship. you don't know why you clenched your hands, or why you cried, you don't even know why you asked bada that question, but you eagerly wait for her answer, like a puppy waiting for a treat.

the bitterness in bada's stomach feels like it's climbing up her throat and staying stuck in the middle of its way, her eyes are burning as they bore into yours, and perhaps the pain she's feeling has taken its toll on you as you can feel your heart drop for a split second. you never really want to know why you're feeling her pain, you just always do.

. . but you're content with feeling that pain, because that's the closest you can get to her heart now.

"didn't you just hear me?" bada says, her voice cracking as her eyes water once again. it's as if she's taking all her will power to hold back the tears in her eyes. it's as if she could breakdown at any moment if she let her guard down.

yet, it seems like everything suddenly goes away; you can't recall why bada is crying, and a confuse look displays on your face.

"not sure i did" you blink, your head tilted as you see the map in your hands once again, a glimpse of a memory brings you back as you quickly say . .

"oh, that's cute. we've been to france before, haven't we?"

“i just told you, y/n” bada's voice is shaking as she stares at you, her brows furrow as she starts to think that this is some kind of joke; a sick joke that you thought of to make her feel embarrassed, to remind her of how sweet you two were, and how she can never achieve what she had always wanted with you.

bada stares intensely into your eyes, she tries to get pass your facade. she wants to rip off that mask, that unfunny joke that you're trying to make. she wants to scream to your face that this isn't funny. yet ,your innocent look and your sweet smile catch her off-guard as you still wait for her answer. you even have a confuse look on your face, as if you don't understand a single word she's saying.

. . as if . . she's the mad one.

"you really don't . . know?" bada asks, worried. "do you even remember what we are?"

you nod, a weak smile on your lips as you sound way happier than you should, even though tears stream down your face just because they're streaming down on bada's face. "girlfriends."

even when bada's panicking slightly, her pretty presence still glows, and it's distracting enough. she rushes to get you in her car and you don't understand a thing, yet you let her do whatever she wants. and that's how your first hanging out in months ends.

while you're in the passenger seat, your eyes scan her whole being. and your chest does flips as you stare at her form.

"why are you so worried?" you ask. "where are we going?"

"we need to get you checked out, y/n."

you go quiet for a moment, not enjoying the concerned look on bada's face, not enjoying something despite not being able to tell what it is. you feel uncomfortable, your head's light as a feather, and the pain is spreading and slowly taking over your whole body on its own will. "ah, maybe. maybe . . everything feels . . fuzzy" you mumble. her hands grip the steering wheel harder as she speeds up. "don't worry, though. it's fine. i'm fine" you reassure bada, a weak smile shows up on your face as you hold your head.

that reminds her of how she died a little inside every time you'd say that, whenever she'd see your suffering. it doesn't help how you'd say that so many times whenever you'd both be upset about how others seemed to hate seeing you together, and the way you're saying it now only reminds her once again that her heart still aches for your words.

it reminds her that she can't put you through anything as heartbreaking again, it doesn't matter if she still cares enough to keep you alive in her memory.

letting you go was the right thing to do, and when she's right, she's right. even when she's wrong.

and she feels at home when she's alone, anyway.

© aebeism 2024

[raainberry]

Studious Confession

« Done deliberately or with a purpose in mind. »

Yunjin x gn!reader

Fluff

synopsis - you and your friend yunjin get sidetracked while speed running revisions for finals

wordcount - 1.8K

A/N - save me scholar yunjin, save me…

Absolute academic weapons.

That’s what you and Yunjin aimed to be when you scheduled a study session at your campus library. Exam season was breathing down your necks, and you ignored it for as long as you could, taking each other on the most impromptu hang-outs instead.

Convenience store runs that lead to mukbangs, walks around campus that somehow turned into treetop adventures, late night drives after a long day of classes you spent screaming to whatever she played on the aux… Risking your education (and probably your future) had never been so fun, but all good things must come to an end.

As the end of your junior year approached you were the first one to bring up studying, suggesting you should probably pump the breaks on the distractions. She only called you a nerd, but gave in when you proposed to study together.

The time itself wouldn’t be fun at all, but at least she’d spend it with you. “A win is a win.”, she’d said over the phone, and it only took a few more days to actually motivate yourselves. Reserving a study room was a step in the right direction, but what happened in there would only make you take two steps back.

“That doesn’t even look like me.” You said after she revealed her doodle in the corner of your notebook.

She spent the last five minutes trying to sketch your features out on the bit of blank paper left on your notes instead of focusing on her own.

“Yes it does, look!” She gestured at the messy drawing. “That’s your eyes and your mouth.”

“I am looking, I’m just not seeing.”

It actually did look like you, Yunjin was too talented for it not to. You were just looking at it upside down as you sat across the table from her.

“Well look harder!”

“I don’t want to, stop distracting me!” You whined, switching your pen for a highlighter.

“You’re so mean! Give me my airpod back.” She whined back, actually catching your attention this time.

“What?”

“I don’t want to share my music with you anymore. I need to listen to sad music alone because you’re so mean to me.” She argued, her hand out waiting for the airpod in your ear.

“Are you serious?” You asked, and she only stared at you, retreating her hand only to fold her arms over her chest. “If I say it does look like me, can I keep it?”

“You can keep the drawing, yeah.” She scoffed and you sighed.

You were unsure whether she was serious or not, so you decided to try something that could only have a positive outcome.

“Coffee break?” You proposed, and just like that, her smile was back.

Relief washed over you when her hand found yours, dragging you down to the nearest vending machine. The latter was familiar, it has seen your faces more times than the study rooms as you sometimes only came by to get a coffee from the machine right next to it.

That’s where you met Yunjin, on one of the rare nights she dedicated to her due projects. You’d offered her one of those cheap paper cups, a hole in your student wallet but nothing compared to the world she invited you in afterwards.

Her own little world, the person she was within it, the things she saw and built… It was all so beautiful. You’d get her a thousand of them if it meant learning one new thing every time.

Sometimes you brought her here in hopes for it, and it never failed. The same thing would happen: you’d get her a coffee, she would fight you, try to pay for yours, and you’d ask her about something you’d noticed about her to change the subject. Small details you’d noticed; a pretty necklace, some new earrings, a new hairstyle or the way her makeup looked. Sometimes her mood stood out to you, had you curious. She’d soon forget about her self-imposed debt, getting caught up in the excitment of whatever had caught your attention that day.

“I like your glasses today. How many pairs do you have?” You asked after she sighed out your name. “This is like the fifth pair I’ve seen you wear.”

“Thank you. I have a few. Even more back home.” She said, making you raise an eyebrow.

Her answer was shorter than usual. No spilling over to another subject that your question reminded her of. No squealing about where she got them from, holding your arm as she practically begged for you to come check the small store out with her next time.

Her hands stayed put in her pockets, below the sweater you’d asked about a few weeks ago. It looked comfortable and cozy, and she seemed to grow fond of it based on the way she pulled her hands into the sleeves so often.

“Do they even help you see?” You asked, joking around in an attempt to pull a little more out of her.

“Only two of them do. These aren’t one of them, though.” She giggled to herself, and you could only shake your head at her absurdity.

“Do you even want to pass?” You chuckled as the machine made all kinds of mechanical noises, signaling that the coffee was ready.

She rolled her eyes, getting her hands out of her pockets to grab the cup from yours. The heat emanating from it was the last thing she needed on this fair weather day, but the taste of that coffee was just too good to pass on.

The taste wasn’t the only thing that pushed her to accept each and every one of the cups you offered her. She didn’t even pay attention to it at first, but as time went on, she started looking forward to it. Sometimes to the point of craving it.

Caffeine was dangerous, sure, but she’d come to realise it wasn’t what she had become addicted to.

“How long are you going to keep this up?”

She broke the small silence that had taken its place between the two of you. One of your favorite songs was playing at a faint volume from the airpods you were still sharing, filling in for the lack of words. Your mind had drifted off, long gone and barely listening to your favorite melody as thoughts of her occupied the back of it.

The sound of her voice brought you back, all conscious and hiding how crazy you felt thinking about someone standing right next to you.

A curious hum resonated from your chest, and your eyes met her questioning ones.

“The coffee. When are you gonna let me pay you back?” She asked, and you smiled.

“You don’t need to.”

“But I want to. You spent like a hundred dollars since the beginning of the year.” She frowned.

“That’s a bit excessive. I’d say 30 dollars at the most. It’s really cheap coffee.” You pointed out.

It took everything in her not to call you a smartass. It seemed like a terrible way to confess her feelings. Especially when what she felt, the light she saw you in painted you as far more than a smartass. The opposite, or maybe a more positive and kind alternative.

“You really don’t want me to pay you back?” She insisted, and you shook your head, amused.

This wasn’t the first time she was asking, and you didn’t expect it to be the last, but your answer would remain the same.

You didn’t want her money.

“You could at least admit you want something in return.”

Her words wiped the delectation right off your face. The lighthearted atmosphere suddenly vanished, replaced by a heavy and uncomfortable one.

You had trouble finding the right way to breathe, scared it would shift the conversation into a much too unpredictable path.

“Wh—what?” You stuttered, furrowing your eyebrows in the most natural way you could.

Yunjin wasn’t having it, although in a simpler moment she would have laughed at your poor attempt.

“Come on, Y/n.” She probed. “No one gives out that many compliments out of pure kindness only.”

“There probably are a few people—” You started, but the way she stared at you kept you from rambling further.

There was no escaping it, she obviously knew what was going on. In theory, you couldn’t be surprised as you hoped for your actions to be obvious, or at the least for her to notice them.

Now that she did, you weren’t sure what to do. Hell, you didn’t even know where or how to stand anymore, you hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“Well—I mean, I kind of have been doing this to get to know you a little more.” You mumbled.

One of her eyebrows furrowed, and you sighed. This wasn’t exactly ideal for the embarrassment you felt.

“We’ve been friends for months, is it so difficult to do that? Am I that hard to read?” She wondered, amused.

“I don’t know, it feels easier this way… For me at least.” You looked down, eyes sweeping the floor as you did your best to avoid her gaze.

Embarrassed was only the start to describing how this whole thing made you feel. Everything you did, everything you told and asked her in order to find out more, as sincere and truthful it all was… It all seemed so silly. Collecting all those bits of her personnality, of her mind; piecing them all together in sercret and falling behind closed doors…

What was the point of putting yourself through so much if it would all come to light anyway?

Would it even be worth it?

“Right. Well…” She trailed off, and your eyes were pulled by the sudden movement of her hand between the two of you.

You watched as it hesitantly approached yours, waiting to see if it would welcome it only for you to wrap your fingers around her palm in a heartbeat— that was to say it happened fast as your heart had picked up the pace for a while now.

Yunjin kept her smile to herself, hiding her appreciation behind treacherous eyes that she focused on your joined hands. The spark she held in her gaze whenever she looked at you was hard to erase—she couldn’t believe you hadn’t noticed it.

“Let your wallet rest a bit.” She joked, finally looking up at you. “Whatever you want to know, next time you can just ask.”

“Do you like me?”

“Oh.” Her eyebrows raised in surprise as you shared a laugh over the sudden, bold question.

It wasn’t exactly unlike you, but judging on the past couple minutes, neither of you really expected it.

“I do like you.” She admitted, a shy smile letting you know she wasn’t as cool about it as she tried to be before adding. “When you’re not nagging me about finals.”

“If this is one of your ways to get out of studying I’m gonna be so mad.” You half-joked.

It would be a pretty insane thing to pull, but you wouldn’t put it past her. She loved to avoid schoolwork, no matter the excuse.

“If it was I wouldn’t ask you to get back to it.”

“You haven’t.”

“I am now.” She smiled, tugging on your hand the same way she had to bring you here.

You could only follow as she jogged back to your study room. Whether her excitment came from studying or the progression of your relationship, you had a small idea. It put a smile on your face that you wouldn’t be able to get rid of for as long as she was the one holding your hand.

And wherever she’d lead you, you’d follow.

[tieronecrush]

꒰ა ONLY ANGEL ໒꒱

javier peña x f!reader

chapter four: i can see you

series masterlist

rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

summary: After his return to the US, Javier is trying to settle back into a normal life without the pressures of Colombia and the DEA, but he finds himself feeling isolated with no one to spend his nights with. Now a newly appointed criminology professor at Texas A&M, he is drawn to you, a post-grad student in one of his classes. You’re intelligent and witty, sweet and kind, and he can’t get you out of his mind. To cope with his growing loneliness and to rid himself of thoughts of you, he signs up for an “arrangement service” to connect him with somebody—a sugar baby—he can care for. After he is matched up with Angel, he finds himself developing feelings quicker than he ever expected, but what happens when he finds out Angel is really you?

series warnings: power imbalance (prof and student), sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, discussion of money, criminal activity, judicial systems, graduate school, smut, daddy/papí kink, praise kink, degradation, self deprecation, discussion of self worth, multiple sexual or romantic partners, sex work, cursing, use of spanish, likely more warning so read at your own risk!

word count: 9.6k

a/n: this chapter is A LOTTTT of filth and as always thank you to bestie @northernbluess for beta-ing <333 love ya!

It’s the first class after Javi had you on your knees in front of him, the rest of the weekend was spent circling back to that image and having to take a cold shower or adjust himself in his jeans when he met up with some old friends from his days as a sheriff. The other thoughts that alternated from the image of you on your knees, soft and supple lips around his cock, was his view from between your legs, pleasure contorting your face and pulling you to a place where you fully let him give your body the treatment it deserves. There’s a phantom feeling of your come all over his face, the visual of you squirting for him bringing him to the edge when he spent Sunday night with his hand around his cock.

What would you feel like, writhing underneath him and making all those sweet little sounds he’s been replaying over and over in his head, while he gives you his cock over and over until you’re screaming?

You were now a craving that couldn’t be satiated; even if he had your mouth again, even if he got another taste of you, even if he got the chance to fuck you properly, it wouldn’t ever be enough. He’s always going to want one more orgasm, one more little moan of his name, one more time spilling into you and watching you take it wherever.

This is why he is buzzing as he walks through the halls to the lecture room, stalking up to the door and peeking through the small window. A glimpse of the back of your head sends a hot rush of his blood south, rolling out his shoulders and taking a breath to calm down. He languidly makes his way down the stairs at the end of the rows of seating, slowing his pace even more when he starts to reach the row you’re occupying. The sound of your voice rises above all the other students in his ears, and he bites back a smile as he’s reminded of the short phone call from the evening prior.

“Will you draw something else for me, bebita?”

“I can but that means I won’t be paying too much attention in class, Professor Peña.”

“Eh, doesn’t matter so much. Can just fill you in when I see you next. Call it private tutoring…” He grinned when he heard you laugh on the other side of the line, feeling like a schoolboy crushing hard. Javi was sitting on his couch, laying back and listening to you, trying to ask questions that gave long-winded answers so he could listen to your voice. “D’you have any other hobbies, bebita?”

“Hm, I mean, I guess so. Haven’t had a lot of time to do much these days cause of school. But I’ll sound like a grandma if I tell you about all those so let’s leave it at I like to doodle in your class.”

“No, no, I wanna hear about it all. What else is there besides drawing?”

“Well, um, I like embroidery. Like those pieces of fabric in the ring with designs on them? Those are fun to make when I’m watching TV or a film. Helps me focus, I guess. Actually, a lot of my hobbies are just things that help me focus so maybe I have a bit of an attention problem—”

“Don’t seem to have an issue paying attention to me, cariño.”

“Yeah, but you’re a distraction in and of yourself. I can barely pay attention to anything you’re saying during lecture cause I’m just looking at you, which is why I had to start doodling to have something to help me focus.”

“I see. Alright, so drawing and embroidery, anything else you like to do?”

“I guess anything I can make really. I find new mediums that look fun to do, buy all the supplies, and do it once, and then don’t touch it again.” You laughed again and Javi smiled and shook his head.

“Well, how about you make me something from all those different things? I want some Angel originals, hermosa. Show off how much I like art.”

“Javi, you’ve got no clue about anything to do with art.”

“Yeah, but I would know they’re yours. That would make them the best.”

It was silent for a moment, Javi awaited your answer to his loosely termed commission.

“Alright, deal.”

When he comes back into the lecture hall from his trailing thoughts, the student next to you is speaking, trying and failing to keep her voice at a low enough volume for Javier not to hear her.

“I heard that Professor Peña used to not be the most ethical when he was in the DEA…like slept with prostitutes to get information. Can’t even imagine the shit he must’ve caught there,” she says as if it’s the juiciest information she’s been told, likely wanting someone else besides you to overhear and question it.

You scoff at the girl sitting near you, rolling your eyes before your brow creases slightly in disapproval, “Y’know, you really shouldn’t be making assumptions about people based on campus rumors. And even if he did do that, he clearly did something right cause he stopped all of those criminals, and probably helped the women too. A lot of people talk to be able to get other opportunities.”

Anger flashes in your chest, burning red like heated iron to brand your heart with Javi’s likeness.

No, no feelings. Nothing more than what you have going on with him, no getting any more attached and making it messy.

But how can people just say shit like that? Without any care that the person they’re talking about is in the room, likely overhearing everything?

Javier doesn’t deserve the treatment. He’s so caring, and intelligent, and giving, and—No. No more.

You’re drifting back and forth between frustrations and telling yourself to calm down for the rest of class, and it’s clear on your face to Javier. He overheard everything, especially your quick defense of him. He knows the extra meaning behind your words, or at least hopes that there’s something else there — maybe a bit of his infatuation or school-age crush reciprocated. Eyes stay glancing over at you throughout his lecture and discussion, no comments or questions from you as you hurriedly take notes or scribble out something in the margins of your paper.

Fingers twitch at the sight of your tense shoulders, creased brow, and avoidant eyes. He so badly wants to walk right over, kiss you to release all of the pent-up frustration, and thank you for your defense. What he would give to be able to sit right next to you, huddle together in your own world like in the booth at the bar over the weekend.

He doesn’t get to catch you before you jump up at the end of class that day, quickly leaving after getting dirty looks from your seatmate. Javier is tempted to call the other student down to speak to him, but that feels a step too far, so he quells down the need to protect you and moves on for the day.

It isn’t until the second meeting of the week that he finally gets to see you again, his calls going to voicemail for the two nights following that day. He’s in the hallway, speaking with another professor within the department when you come down the corridor, a sweet autumnal plaid mini dress on with a cardigan over it. He licks his lips at the sight of your thighs covered with translucent black tights that tuck under the ankle of your Dr. Marten boots.

The other man’s voice slowly fades out as Javier focuses on you, attempting and failing to steal his gaze away as you walk past him. Eyes lock with a teasing knowing behind yours, the corners of your lips twitching up as you laugh to yourself that he looks like a dog to a bone.

“Hi, Professor Peña and it’s nice to see you again, Professor Quinn,” you slow down on the other side of the two men, Professor Quinn returning your smile and waving you over for a conversation.

“So lovely to see you again! Lizzy has been asking about you, she misses her favorite babysitter. How have you been? Are you in one of Professor Peña’s classes?” Professor Quinn looks between the two of you, friendly small talk coated with tension that only you and Javier can feel. The secret you share licks flames in your gut, stirring an excitement that you know so much more about him than other students, than his coworkers, than most people. That excitement has anxiety constricting in your chest briefly, afraid of what might happen if you allowed yourself to feel any claim over Javi.

Don’t get so attached. It’s work, a job, and there are other men on your schedule. No one else is like Javi, but canceling on anyone else to spend more time with him is too close to blurring the lines.

Javier looks at you, his heart in his throat as he is the recipient of one of those smiles from you, the one that had him crushing from the first sight of it and the same one he can’t get out of his head when you’re apart. Before Professor Quinn feels the need to repeat his question, Javier clears his throat and nods curtly.

“Yeah, my first graduate-level course. Got to get to the lecture in about five minutes actually.” Javier steps to leave but you hold up a hand.

“Oh, sorry, Professor Peña, but do you mind waiting one moment? I’d like to talk to you about the upcoming assignment on the way to the lecture hall.” Javi has a burning need to say he’ll talk to you after class, to cover any suspicions of his colleague from the prolonged eye contact between the two of you, but he can never deny those eyes of yours — and you seem to know that fact already.

He waits to the side while you quickly finish your conversation with Professor Quinn, who taught you during your undergraduate years and whose daughter you babysat for date nights during the school year and nannied over the summers you stayed in San Antonio.

There’s a flash of jealousy in Javier’s chest, no logic behind it, but he can’t help but feel like he wants to be the only one to know you as a student and outside of class. It’s silly, especially because this relationship is completely innocent, but he can’t stop the feeling from rushing over like a wave.

With a smile, one that he convinces himself isn’t quite like the ones you give him, you say goodbye to your former instructor and turn to Javier. Closing the gap to catch up with him, you start to walk side by side, appropriately inches apart despite the surge of wanting that trails down your left side and his right.

“So what did you want to talk to me about? The upcoming assignment? Is it the midterm research paper?” Javier maintains his professionalism, only glancing at you a few times while his mouth waters at the sight of exposed skin at your collarbone and the scent of your sweet perfume.

“Actually, I kind of just said that…” your voice goes to a lower volume, but still audible to him, “I was hoping that you’d maybe have some appointments left for your office hours? Maybe for a little tutoring session? I have my Spanish midterm coming up soon.”

Javi bites back his smirk, shaking his head to himself at your coded questions. Slowing to a stop in front of the door to the classroom, he turns to you, his boots clicking on the linoleum tiles as he rests a hand on his hip to consider.

“You can have the last one for today,” his voice drops to a low, hushed rasp as you lean in ever so slightly to hear him better, “Y’know, been missin’ you these last few days, bebita. Better have a good excuse.”

He punctuates the statement with a wink and a smirk, a teasing lilt obvious in his voice. A strong hand engulfs the door handle before you can reach for it, opening it and nodding for you to step in ahead of him.

“Ladies first,” he reminds, licking his lips as you look up at him with a quick, whispered reply.

“Think you know I’m not always a lady, Javier.”

He can’t stop watching you the whole class. He knows it’s an issue, that surely it’s obvious at points of the entire hour-and-a-half lecture. He knows that you notice his stare, quick flicks of eye contact, and subtle winks sent his way as the corners of your lips curl up in a smirk.

All he can think about is getting you alone — finally alone again — and teaching you a thing or two, like you requested, of course.

When he glances at you next, you’re staring down at your notebook, oblivious to his attention; the end of your pen is tapping against your bottom lip, your brows knitting together in what looks like confusion while reviewing your written notes. Javier watches as you slip the end of your pen between your lips, licking his own while he sees them pillow against the plastic utensil. The gloss swiped across them shines in the fluorescent lights, and with a flash of the image of your lips around him a couple of weekends ago, his trousers tighten and his mouth dries out.

You look up from your desk to meet his gaze, sharing a knowing smile before he stutters out the next point of his lecture. Clearing his throat, he shakes his head to himself and peels his eyes away from you, keeping them away for the rest of the session to attempt to calm down before he has to walk out in front of all the students with a bulge in his tight trousers.

At the end of class, he announces that he’ll be rescheduling his office hours to this afternoon, to start shortly after he releases everyone for the session. You quickly catch his eyes, the corner of his mouth ticking up with a subtle smirk and a quick wink while the rest of the students pack up their things. Some linger to ask quick questions, but you’re out the door before he can grab your attention again, his eager stance deflating. He wanted you to stay, to talk to you before sitting through all his other office hour appointments before he’s able to see you.

It’s about an hour of talking through fifteen-minute appointments with other students, both graduate and undergraduate, about their upcoming midterm assignments or exams for his courses. He can’t help but roll his eyes each time these students ask for extra credit or make-up notes for the classes that they have missed — most of these kids haven’t bothered to show up since syllabus week. The clock to the left of the door ticks away, and he sweeps up the conversation with the sophomore sitting across his desk once fifteen minutes exactly hit, ushering him out the door and promising another meeting before the midterm, but that he has another appointment to get to.

Taking a breath once the student is heading down the hallway, he combs his eyes around the area outside of his office, his attention being pulled to quick footsteps down the corridor. His eyes take in Dr. Martens, slightly beat up and well-worn, black sheer tights snaking up your legs to the mid-thigh hem of your skirt. Trailing up your dress to the exposed skin at your collarbone, Javi licks his lips.

“Sorry, I’m a little late, Professor Peña. Rushed over here when I realized what time it was sitting in the library,” you apologize, a soft smile on your face holding back the playful glint in your eyes.

“No problem, the last student ran a bit over his appointment time. Please, c’mon in.” Javier gestures for you to walk ahead of him into the open door of his office, watching you glance around the space as he shuts the door behind him. At the click of the handle into place, Javi strides over to you and grabs at your hips, leaning down to catch your lips in a heated and rushed kiss.

His larger frame looms over you, your hands finding his shoulders as your body relaxes into his grip. Javi guides you backward to his desk and around it, pressing you up against the edge of the wood.

“Fuck, bebita, jus’ couldn’t take my eyes off of you the whole fucking day. Look so sweet in your dress. Wanted to rip it off you and take you right there. Let everyone know whose girl you are,” he rasps against your lips, dragging his own along your jaw and working a love bite underneath your ear. A whimper pulls from your throat, leaning your head back for easier access as you squeeze your thighs together.

“Bet you’d like that, huh?” The smirk in his voice is evident, cockiness coating his words as he asks the rhetorical question. “Mi zorrita (My little slut) wants everyone to know who makes her feel so good, doesn’t she?”

“Y-Yes, I want everyone to know that it’s you…” you sigh out when Javier’s lips suck at your collarbone, hunched over you while his bulge presses into your thigh.

“You’d do that if I asked, like a good girl. But you’re all mine, bebita. Don’t want anyone else having you like I do.”

Guilt burns in your chest when he says that; you know he isn’t seeing anyone else, he’s said as much. You’ve dodged the question, avoiding the confrontation of telling him he’s one of a few because then you’d have to explain how he isn’t one of the few — how something with him is different, deeper, makes you long for him when he’s away.

And confessing all of that makes your stomach turn.

Instead of responding with words, your hand curls into his hair, the other resting against his chest and pulling him back up to your face. Kissing him hurriedly, you take the moment of distraction to push him back and down into his desk chair. You fold over him, keeping your lips attached to his and sighing when you feel a rumble of a moan from him when your hand at his chest drops down to palm him through his pants.

“Y’know, you asked for a Spanish lesson, bebita. D’you still want to learn something?” Javier asks, his head pulled back to rest against the seat back. You give him a ‘yes’, kneeling in front of his seat and scraping your nails against his strong thighs.

“Eres mío? Eres mi buena chica? Qué vas a hacer por mí? (Are you mine? Are you my good girl? What are you gonna do for me?)” Javier brushes his fingers against your cheek as he looks down at you. You take a beat to translate his questions in your head, a smirk growing on your face while you unbuckle his belt and undo his button and zipper on his trousers.

“Te voy a hacer sentir bien. (I’m going to make you feel good).” Javier grins down at you when you answer, sighing in relief when you pull his dick out from his boxers. His hand is still at your face, eyes darkening when you look at him.

“Una chica tan lista. My smart girl,” he exhales the last syllable when you swipe your tongue up the underside of his cock, his fingers running against your hair and moving to the back of your head. “Ahora chupa, mi zorrita. (Now suck, my little slut.) Show me what you can do.”

Following his instructions, you take Javi into your mouth, teasing the head of his cock with your tongue. Your hand wraps around the base of him, slowly stroking as you feed more of him into your mouth, all the way until he hits the back of your throat.

Exhaling out of your nose, you take a moment before starting to bob your head in time with your hand. The sounds coming from Javi sitting over you are delicious, the actions and the noises making your saliva drip from the corners of your lips and down his shaft, squelching with the motions of your hand. The hand of his at the back of your head starts to guide you, pushing you down an inch further to press the tip of him into your throat.

“Fuck, bebita, taking my cock so fucking well. Such a good girl for me, my dirty girl.” You hum in acknowledgment and squeeze your thighs together, readying yourself to deepthroat him when there’s a sharp knock on his office door. Javi’s hand holds your head still, looking down at you and whispering expletives as he glances around the room. The knob starts to turn when he calls out, “One sec!”

You pull off of him and open your mouth to whisper, but Javi shakes his head and holds his index finger up to his lips.

“Quiet, baby. There’s nowhere else for you to go, jus’ get under the desk and I’ll get rid of whoever it is quick, okay?”

You nod and crawl into the alcove of his desk, sitting on your knees with your back to the panel that hides you from the rest of the room. Javier wheels his desk chair closer to the desk, his legs on either side of you trapping you in. Eye-level with his still aching cock, your mouth waters, and breath hitches when the door finally opens and a voice comes booming in.

“Javier! Agent Peña! Big Man on Campus! How the heck are ya?” Dean Banks greets Javi with a laugh, striding into his office confidently. He rolls his eyes at the Dean, clearing his throat and scooting one leg closer to you under the desk.

“Dean Banks, nice to see you. I’m fine, how are you?” The polite conversation sparks an idea in your head to distract Javier, licking your lip and leaning in closer. You blow a warm breath over his cock, watching it twitch with the sensation and making Javier’s leg jolt.

“I’m doing great — we’ve gotten some glowing midterm reviews for your courses so I thought I would stop by to give you the good news! And to check in and see how you’re doing with the first full semester you’ve had here so far.” Dean Banks wanders around his office, staying in front of the desk as he pokes at all the books on the shelves lining the walls. “Haven’t gotten mixed up into, uh, those extraneous circumstances we discussed have you?”

Javier opens his mouth to answer at the same time you take him back between your lips, plunging your head down to take half of him in one quick go. The words catch in his throat and he quickly clears it to cover up the noise.

“No, absolutely not, sir. Been focused on, uh, teaching and setting all of my students up for—success. I was just finishing up with my office hours before you walked in.” Javier’s hand searches for you under the desk to pull you away, but you grip both of his hands in your position of power, holding them down as you continue to suck his dick hidden away from view.

“Hm, didn’t see any students walking out in the hallway or out of your office. Must have missed them.” Dean Banks turns his back to Javier and he glances down at his lap to look at you with a glare, mouthing ‘Knock it off’.

In an act of defiance, you take full advantage of the dynamic to make eye contact with him before taking his cock in its entirety down your throat. You gag around it and Javier coughs and groans out of a sudden reaction. The Dean turns around quickly, a puzzled look on his face.

“Y’alright there, Peña?”

Javier nods quickly, wiping the subtle sweat built up by nerves on his forehead and takes a deep breath while you continually take him deep in your throat and move your head up and down his length.

“Yeah, yeah. Just got a, uh, a….headache.”

The Dean nods and claps his hands together, walking toward the door, “Well I won’t keep you for any longer then, better get home and get some rest. Glad to hear there are no issues with your new course. Chat soon, Big Man.”

Javier rolls his eyes again at the Dean’s back when he exits and pulls the door closed behind him. It’s another beat before the coast is clear enough and Javier wheels his chair back, you walking on your knees to keep him in your mouth. His chest is breathing deep, looking up at him through your lashes. Unimpressed anger is painted across his face, a stern shake of his head before his voice comes out low and intimidating, making your thighs squeeze together to feel your panties cling to your wetness.

“Thought that was funny, bebita? Doing that while we had company? Pequeña mocosa. (Little brat.)” Javier ticks his tongue in his mouth and pulls you off of his cock, strings of spit connecting you to his still-aching cock. “Y’know, I should just bend you right over this desk and fuck you full of me, so you have to walk around all day with me dripping out of you. How’s that sound for payback, huh?”

Your mind is reeling with the thought of him fucking you against his desk, a whimper sounding in your throat and your thighs rubbing together for any bit of relief. A hand of yours moves to go between your legs, desperate to touch yourself, but Javier quickly grabs it, hooking your other hand with his larger one and bringing them both above your head.

“Oh, but mi zorrita would like that though, wouldn’t she? Not much of a punishment. Guess I’ll just have to fuck your mouth and come down your throat then.”

He stands from his chair and kicks it away behind him, tugging you closer and to sit taller by your hands above your head. The unoccupied hand grips his cock at the base, positioning himself in front of your face, tapping the head of his cock against your plush bottom lip.

“Open, angel. If you’re gonna be a brat, una mocosa, m’gonna fuck you like one.”

No more protests are had from you, opening your mouth as wide as possible and humming around Javi when he slips into your mouth. He sighs, tilting his head back toward the ceiling with a quiet moan. After a second of being still, halfway filling your mouth, he looks down at you again and starts to thrust his hips — slowly and shallow at first before his patience snaps and he moves quicker and deeper.

His cock hits the back of your throat each time, a bruising pace making your core throb with a burning desire, imagining the same feeling but inside of your pussy. You moan around him, choking when he gets the deepest you’ve had him ever, gagging harshly and swallowing around him to attempt to recover.

Javier is blinded with pleasure, soft begs of your name repeatedly falling from his lips before he gives you another hard fuck to your throat, one last gag before he’s pulling back and spilling ropes of his come onto your tongue. He pulls out, the last few painted across your lips as he looks down at you, breathless while his chest heaves and drops your hands from his grip.

“Fuck, bebita, such a little fucking slut taking me like that.”

In the midst of your own recovery, you stick your tongue out to show him before swallowing his spend, coughing quietly. Javier quickly grabs a few tissues and sits in his desk chair, gingerly wiping off the evidence of his punishment from your face. It’s silent between you two while you watch him focus on the task, reaching a hand up to wrap your fingers around his wrist.

“M’sorry if I was too rough, angel. Caught a bit too caught up there…” he avoids your eyes, tossing aside the Kleenex and tucking himself back into his trousers.

“I liked it,” you confess, standing up from your knees and straddling his lap in his chair as you sit down. “Liked it a lot, actually. I wanna be that for you, like an escape. Turn your brain off, 'cause we both know you overthink everything.”

You run your fingers through his hair and he chuckles, nodding before he kisses you sweetly.

“Thank you, bebita. Such a good girl for me. So sweet,” he muses, giving you another kiss, “Now how about we actually learn some Spanish for your exam?”

The next week is spent either on the phone with Javi in the evenings, when you’ve returned home from any other dates scheduled, or out with him, finding hole-in-the-wall bars and restaurants to avoid any eyes from around campus. Each time you see his name on your caller ID, or see his truck pull up outside of your apartment complex to pick you up, your heart starts with a quickened pulse, dopamine firing in your brain and giving you that stuck in lov—

No feelings. You remind yourself each time you get that serotonin increase, simply excusing it as you enjoy your time with him and the pleasure he eagerly gives you whenever you give to him.

It’s hard not to allow yourself to feel around him; Javi makes it so easy to indulge. Little moments like him calling the mechanic and getting the cost of your repairs brought down, driving you over to pick it up and paying for it himself to make sure they didn’t haggle anymore; ordering your favorite drink if he arrived at a bar or restaurant before you, or getting you something new that he thought you would enjoy; a hand on your back or waist or encompassing your own, guiding you without overpowering. Small gifts given; new books purchased when you’ve browsed bookstores he’s found for you, new favorite dresses or lingerie filling your closet that Javier claimed were as much gifts for himself as they were for you.

His care was ever present, not overwhelming until it came to the point that you thought about him and how much he was there, integrated into your life and habits and moments of joy.

Absolutely terrifying. But you couldn’t stop.

And he was feeling like he couldn’t stop either.

He didn’t know if he was overdoing it all with you, new to this sort of arrangement and its usual boundaries, but he hoped that the fact that you kept laughing and smiling, initiating kisses or more with him, that you were enjoying yourself as much as he was.

There were tiny snapshots where he caught himself thinking about, feeling more for you. When you sneak into his office on the days you have other classes, steal minutes with him before you have to go across campus or he has to go teach or to a department meeting. To-go cups of black coffee on your handful of morning dates at the weekend, a reminder that you made observations about him just as he was you. When you stood up for him, defended him when the other student was spreading rumors. Sure, they were true, and he’d told you as much, but to hear your subtle protectiveness was warming his long cold heart. 

He hadn’t felt like this before, and he never thought he would have the chance. Colombia had jaded him, hardened him to stone, but you were slowly chiseling away to reveal his moldable core, reshaping him into a person he knew before and at the same time, a person who was only becoming familiar these days.

Could this be love? If he didn’t know how you felt or where you stood? He never thought he was in love before, and this confirms those thoughts. Never has he felt like this, never has he been so clumsy and boyish in his relationship at times.

It’s a Thursday evening, and his classes for tomorrow are scheduled to have a break to give them more time to study for midterms. Fiddling with his phone in his hands, he wonders what you might be up to, going back and forth over whether or not to call.

Before he can think anymore, he’s finding your contact, brought straight to the top of the list when he changed the name to ‘Bebita’, and hits the green phone button.

The line rings a few times, cutting out with an answer and a rustle over the microphone before he hears your voice.

“Hi, Javi.” He can hear you sigh, sensing an edge of stress or impatience in your tone.

“Hey, bebita. You busy tonight? I wanna see you.”

“Oh, Javi, I don’t know if I can make tonight work. I’m using this weekend to study for all my midterms and to finish writing all my essays due next week and…I don’t really have time, m’really sorry,” you sound timid, exhausted and it makes him on edge, his brain immediately centering on how he can make you feel better.

“Do you need help with anything, cariño? Can I do anything?” He sits up on the couch, standing in the next moment to pace near his boots and his keys laid out on the counter, ready to pounce when you say the word.

“Oh, gosh, I don’t know…I feel like I can’t even think about making my dinner right now. I’m sorry.”

The coating of your voice and the sniffle through the phone are unmistakable; you’re on the verge of tears attempting to think of what he can do, the avalanche of stress you’re feeling. A crack sharpens across his heart, hands craving to hold you close and to fix it all for you.

“Oh, bebita, dulzura, you don’t have to apologize to me. I wanna spend time with you, help you. Don’t need to be going out or doing anything else than just sittin’ with you,” he nests his phone between his shoulder and ear while he slips his boots on, “Do you mind if I come by? If it stresses you out, you can tell me to leave but if I’m there maybe I can find something to help with.”

It’s quiet on the line while you consider, another sniffle nearly sending him out the door without your actual answer.

“Okay, yeah. You can come over. But I look like a mess and my apartment looks like a tornado went through it and I might cry in front of you.”

Javier chuckles and shakes his head while he grabs his phone with his hand to keep it against his ear. His free hand grabs for his keys, plucking his jacket off the coat rack and already walking out the door.

“Don’t worry about any of that, bebita. M’here to help you, I wanna take care of you,” he hears a hum of acknowledgment from you, “I’ll be there in like half an hour, alright? Gotta make a couple stops while I’m out and then I’ll be there for you, okay?”

“Okay…” you say quietly, “Thank you, Javi.”

“I’ll see you in a bit, angel.”

Exactly thirty minutes later, a knock raps on your front door, strong and short. Glancing up at the entrance, you see the lock turned and call out loud enough to be heard in the hallway.

“It’s open!”

The door unlatches and swings open, the rustle of bags hitting your ears before the sight of Javi hits your eyes. He juggles the thin plastic handles of the grocery haul in his hands, shaking his head as he pushes the door closed behind him with his boot-clad foot.

“Don’t like that you're keeping your door unlocked, bebita. S’not safe, what if I wasn’t me?” The strict, skeptical agent shows through — paranoia in his eyes while he sets down the bags on your counter, walking back over to lock the door and shrug off his black leather jacket. Underneath his outerwear, the black short-sleeve button-up clings to his torso and stretches at his shoulders. It’s tucked into his usual jeans with his belt on display, and one look exchanged with him reminds him to kick off his shoes — baby blue socks with small figures of different types of dogs patterning the surfaces of them.

“Hello to you, Javier,” you chuckle and turn back to your books, continuing to read over the chapter summary you were engrossed with before his entrance.

His sock-covered feet pad softly over to you at your dining table, taking in the sight of you before he stands behind you, leaning down to kiss the top of your head.

“Hi, bebita.” He smiles when you lay your head back to look up at him behind you, grinning and giggling when he leans over again to kiss you. “Missed you.”

“I’m just giving you shit.” A laugh leaves your mouth in quiet breaths when he rolls his eyes, steps back to your kitchen counter and starts to unpack everything. You pull yourself away from the table to follow him over, shaking your head at all of the snacks, drinks, and extra pens and notecards spilling out of the bags. “Gosh, Javi. How much stuff did you get?”

He glanced at you sheepishly, shrugging, “Didn’t know what you might want, so kind of got everything I thought you’d like.”

One hand lands on his bicep closest to you, turning his attention to you for you to lean up and kiss him sweetly. You can feel your heart in your throat at the expanse of his thoughtfulness, truly wanting to come over to help without any other expectations.

“I like your socks, by the way.” Another kiss is stolen before you’re back to the table, plopping down and attempting to fall back into studying. A long sigh leaves your lips and Javi frowns when he looks over at you, hyper-focused on all the text laid out in front of you. He putters around your kitchen, poking through to find plates and silverware to keep from asking you; dishing up the takeout he got after putting away the snacks and drinks, he walks back over and sets a plate down in front of you.

“Pause for a few minutes, angel, you gotta eat. And I got your favorite from that Thai restaurant we went to last week.” Javi takes the seat at the corner next to you, pulling away your books to clear a spot for you to eat. The look on your face is painful when you pick up the fork as if any more energy expended for a task other than studying is too much to handle.

“Thank you, Javi. Really. I think it would have been one of those eating shredded cheese from the bag or potato chips over the sink kind of nights if you didn’t come.”

“No need to apologize, bebita. M’always here for you,” he speaks tenderly with a smile, the two of you making light conversation while you eat. Before he clears the plates back to the kitchen, he takes your hand lying on the surface and toys with your fingers. “You can tell me to fuck off and I won’t be offended, but I’ll stick around for a few minutes in case you need me, okay?”

Immediately you shake your head and grip his hand in yours, “No, please stay. D’you mind helping me study? Like quizzing me or something? I want….I want you to stay here. Please.”

Javier holds back a wide smile, giddiness kicking up inside him. He clears his throat and nods, squeezing your hand. He stands up and bends forward to kiss your forehead, “Course I’ll help you study, angel. Let me clean up all this and then we’ll get started, yeah?”

It’s for the next couple of hours that Javier studies with you, asking you sample exam questions from the textbook and quizzing you with the notecards that you’ve made. He keeps you supplied with snacks and hydrated with water, intermittently joking with you to keep you relaxed.

It’s about eleven o’clock at night, Javi’s been here for four hours, and the rest of the weekend is ahead of you both. He’s sitting at the kitchen table, newly made notecards in his hands while you pace the kitchen in front of him. A hand runs through your hair, tugging and sighing when you can’t remember.

“God, I don’t—I don’t know…” You continue your pacing and shake your head, feeling your heart rate increase and your throat start to constrict with anxiety. The hand in your hair moves to press against your chest. “I really don’t know, shit, can you—can you tell me please?”

“Lombroso’s concept of a born criminal is atavism.”

The next few cards you also forget or get wrong and after the last incorrect answer, you stop in the tracks of your pacing. Angry tears of frustration burn at your eyes, words caught in your throat, and breaths come out short and harsh. Javier looks up at you when your movement stops, brows knitting together with concern when he sees the tears in your eyes and hears the clipped inhales and exhales.

“Bebita, c’mere.” Javi pats his lap and you shuffle over, straddling his legs and sitting in his lap to face him. “Let’s call it for tonight. We have all weekend to get you feeling confident for the exam, but trying to push yourself anymore tonight is only going to make you feel worse.”

“But—"

Javier shakes his head and brings his hands up to cradle your face, thumbs swiping away the few tears that have fallen.

“No, no ‘buts’. There’s no need to be getting upset about it. You’re exhausted and overworked, you’ve been doing this all day. And you know all of this, I know you do, angel. You’re too tired to concentrate and you need to rest.”

“God, I wish I could turn my brain off. This is all I’m gonna be thinkin’ about.”

“I can help with that, bebita.” Javier’s hands run up and down your thighs, snaking around to palm your ass with a gentle squeeze.

“Oh, yeah? And how would you do that?” You play dumb, feigning innocence to his suggestion. Brow cocked up, mouth pursued in curiosity.

“Hm, think we both know what I would do, but m’happy to tell you.” His hands roam again, trailing up your sides to cup under your breasts through your flimsy t-shirt. Your nipples pebble underneath the material when his thumbs brush over them, a satisfied smirk on his face at the sight. “I’ll take you into your bedroom. Kiss you, play with you until you’re dripping for me. And then I’m gonna use my mouth on you, jus’ like the first time, and make you come for me over and over until I think you’re ready. And when you’re begging for me, I’ll give you exactly what you want, bebita. My sweet zorrita is gonna get exactly what she needs — a good fucking.”

Your hips start to grind into his lap, nodding slowly as you listen to him and whining quietly as your eyes close. His hands stall your motions, bringing your attention to him as he admires you from below.

“Let’s go, baby. Think you need it now,” he rasps out, helping you up from his lap and following close behind you. His hands stay at your hips while you walk ahead of him at a delayed pace, his lips kissing and teeth biting at your neck. Trailing down the hallway, he slowly undresses you, leaving each article of clothing on the floor in your wake. Once the two of you reach your bedroom, he turns you toward him and kisses you hurriedly, moaning against your lips when he feels your hand palm him over his jeans.

Javier pulls himself back from you, shaking his head as he steps you backward to hit the edge of your bed, pushing you to sit and nodding to the center of the mattress. You scoot back a bit until he stops you in place, getting onto his knees at the side of the bed and hooking your legs over his shoulders.

He unbuttons a few of the top buttons on his shirt, loosening the material around his shoulders, and licks his lips as he takes in the sight of your glistening cunt.

“God, bebita, you’re always so ready for me. Whenever I want you. Do I get you that worked up being around you, hm?” His tone is cocky as he speaks, dragging two fingers through your folds and collecting some of your wetness. He slips those fingers in his mouth, working his tongue around them and moaning at the taste of you. The fingers pull out of his mouth with an audible pop, and you get onto your elbows to look at him in the eyes as he pushes those same fingers into your entrance.

“Fuck, Javi…” you moan, rolling your head back as he fucks you with his fingers, shallow and slow at first. He’s mesmerized by the view of you taking it easily, sweet little sounds hitting his ears in a satisfying way. “M-More, please. Pretty please.”

“Only because you asked so nicely, angel.” He chuckles and adds another digit, picking up his speed and getting as deep into you as he can. His other hand uses its thumb to run quick circles on your dripping clit, moaning to himself when your noises get louder and higher pitched. “You close already, bebita?”

“Yesyesyes, fuck, m’gonna come—“ You clench around his fingers, gripping the duvet under your hands.

“Ask, baby. Gotta mind your manners, mi zorrita.”

“Ple—please may I come, Javi? M’so close, oh my god,” you tack a whine at the end, lifting your hips and huffing out a breath when he pushes them back down.

“Go ahead, bebita. Come for me—" You moan his name loudly and squeeze your eyes shut, your walls gripping around his fingers tightly. “Oh, yes, fuck. That’s it, angel, that’s it.”

He works you through your orgasm, your breaths evening out after a minute. Once you’ve come down, you realize he’s inching closer between your legs, lips dragging along your inner thighs. Before you can get a word out, his mouth is on you, sucking your clit harshly. Your whine raises in pitch, hands tangling in his hair to push him away.

When he lifts his head, his dark eyes find yours as he licks his lips.

“Gonna let me taste this sweet little cunt, angelita? Make good on all my promises,” he challenges you and you breathe out a ‘yes’, all the permission he needs to put his head between your thighs.

At his first full taste, a switch flips and he devours you like a starving man — sucking, licking, fucking you with his tongue. You’re writhing under him, one strong hand splayed against your lower tummy to keep you down.

“Javi, oh fuck, feels so fucking good—oh my god, you’re so fucking good at this. Has anyone ever told you that?” You ramble the closer you get and Javi smirks against you, the words egging him on to give you more.

He pulls two conservative orgasms from you with his mouth, sucking your clit and licking into your walls with his tongue. Your brain is slowly shutting off, study materials are completely forgotten, and limbs light as air as you lay back on the bed.

Javier stands from the floor, a soft groan and clicking of his knees drawing your attention to him. He strips down from his own clothes, standing in his underwear and nodding to you on the bed.

“Scoot up, baby — that’s it, good girl.” He smirks when you move languidly, reaching out for him when he climbs onto the bed on his knees. Your arms fall to rest stretched above your head, putting you completely on display for him.

“How d’you want me, Javi?” you purr and it nearly sends him reeling, but he shakes his head and smirks down at you.

“Jus’ like this, babygirl. Wanna be able to see you, watch your pretty face as I take care of you.” Javier reaches his hand toward you, instructing you to lick. He takes the same hand and wraps it around his cock, stroking himself as he spreads your legs with his other hand. Settling between them, he drags the head of his cock through your folds, nudging your overly sensitive clit and chuckling darkly when your thighs twitch.

“Javi, please—" He shuts you up with further teasing, slipping himself inside, just the tip. He hisses from behind his bared teeth, rolling his head back to recover before he gives a few pumps of his hips and pulls out of you completely. The next move he teases your clit again, sliding his cock down to prod at the entrance of your tightest hole before moving back up to your cunt slipping just the tip inside of you again.

Under him, you're twitching and writhing with whines and whimpers, gripping the sheets.

“Javi, please, need you.” You choke out, a soft sob of a moan when he keeps fucking you with only his tip, refusing to give you any more inches. The next word leaves on an exhale before you can think about it, “Daddy…”

“What was that, bebita? Didn’t quite hear you.”

“Daddy, fuck me, please.”

Javier stills for a moment, processing exactly what you said while you’re silent, anxiety heightening with each tick of the clock and his lack of response. His hips are still shallowly fucking you, involuntary whimpers escaping your mouth.

“Daddy, huh? You wanna call me that? Got you so cockdumb before I’ve even given it to you.” His eyes are nearly pitched-black, desire evident in his roaming, worshiping hands.

“Yes, yes please, daddy. I need you, please.” The words catch in your throat and you arch your back for him, tits slightly jiggling with the motion.

“You wanted to work on your Spanish, huh? No daddy, bebita. Llámame Papí (Call me Papí). Say it, bebita. Say it for me, buena chica.” His acceptance of your knee-jerk word spill has your mind melting, clenching your walls around the tip of his cock that’s buried inside of you. “Say it.”

“Papí…” you exhale, the noise choking in your throat when he thrusts hard to fill you up to the hilt. A sobbing moan leaves your mouth when he pulls nearly out of you, only to start a punishing pace fucking you hard and deep.

“That’s right, bebita. M’taking care of you, right? Just like a papí should. You call me that as much as you want, angel. Like hearing it come from you.”

Javier grunts at the strain of how hard he’s fucking you, the sounds of your whines and his groans mixing into a melody with the slaps of skin together. It’s filthy if anyone was looking in, but the thought of that makes him fuck you harder, relishing in the sound of your wetness squelching around his cock.

“God, mi bebita, you are taking my cock so well. You like it? Am I filling you up?”

“Yes—oh my god, taking care of me…”

“That’s right, bebita, M’gonna take care of you. You wanna come on my cock, angel?”

“Yes please, daddy…”

Javi’s hips stutter at you saying it, starting again harder and faster, “Not daddy, bebita. You wanna call me that, you call me Papí, baby. Let me hear you say it.”

“P-Papí, oh my fuck, feels so good. So full, Papí.” You’re rambling under him, incomplete and incoherent thoughts, “Oh, fuck— Just there— Papí, papí, papí, ohmygod right there!”

The name is dripping with sweetness from your lips, snapping something into his brain. He’s desperate to provide for you, to take care of you in any way you need. Right now, that is fucking you dumb enough to forget about your stress. Tomorrow, it’ll be getting you coffee in the morning and helping you reevaluate your study materials.

Underneath him, you’re feeling something of the same, enamored with the man above you. The same one who drove around town to pick up things he thought you would like, feeding you, helping you study. The one who smiles at you in the halls, and calls you his babygirl behind doors. Now, he’s fucking you into oblivion and melting your brain to mush to give you what you need. He grips your legs and presses them to fold at your sides, the adjusted position bringing him deeper than before. The head of him hits that special spot inside of you, over and over until it’s driving you to the edge fast.

“Oh, fuck! Papí! Please—Please, please, please. Gonna come, please may I come, Papí?” Your brain turns on its entire leftover power to ask politely, knowing your manners would still have to be minded with your cockdumb mind.

“Such a good girl, so polite. Come for me, bebita. Let me feel your tight pussy grip my cock.” Javier groans when you let go as soon as you get his permission, relishing in the look on your face with a perfect ‘O’ mouth and walls sucking him in further as his thrusts slow down. The tightness of you brings him to his own peak, feeling precum dribbling out inside of you as he gets as close to the edge as possible.

“Oh fuck, fuck, angel. Gonna fucking come, where d’you want me?” His brow knits together with a look of pain, and you breathlessly answer.

“Outside, please, Papí. Anywhere else you want.”

He nods and pulls out of you, using his fist to fuck himself, painting his come across your torso in long ropes. Javier moans your name over and over under his breath, squeezing his eyes shut as his chest heaves with relief.

It’s quiet, nothing spoken while you both crash down. In a moment of clarity in his post-orgasm haze, he stretches over to your nightstand to grab a few tissues, wiping you clean of his spend. He tosses it in your desk trash bin, searching around the floor for his clothes. When he picks up his boxers, you make a small noise of protest and grab his attention.

“Don’t—Um, would you—" You can’t get the words out, shyness clawing at your throat. Javier fills in the blanks, smiling softly at you as he drops his boxers and climbs back onto your bed over your lying form.

“D’you want me to stay, bebita?”

You nod and smile sheepishly, wrapping your arms around his neck and grinning wider when he leans down to kiss you chastely.

“Can you ask me, angel?”

“Will you have a sleepover with me…Papí?” you giggle as you tack on the name at the end, Javier smirking and nodding his head.

“Of course I’ll stay. And if you keep pulling that out all the time, there’s going to be a lot of fucking in random places. Jus’ does something for me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm. Think you know that, bebita. Mi bebita.” 

“Well, that does the same thing for me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm. I like being your bebita.”

“Siempre, Bebita. Always gonna be it.” Javier punctuates the conversation with another kiss, laying down completely next to you and wrapping you up in his arms. His fingers play with your hair, laying your head on his chest as you close your eyes.

A thought pops into your head, picking up your head to look Javi in the eyes.

“Are you gonna be going to the department event next week?”

“That’s what you���re thinking about right now, angel?”

“Yes, now please answer.” You poke his chest, giggling when he pinches your side playfully.

“I will be there, yes, Bebita. I’m assuming you’re going too?” He asks as he closes his eyes, exhaustion overcoming him slowly.

You smile and bite your lip, tracing shapes against his skin, “Well, would you wanna pick out my dress for it?”

That grabs his attention, his eyes shooting open with a grin growing across his face.

“Gonna let me choose what I get to see you in, Bebita? Don’t know if you want that, 'cause I could have you walking around in nothing.”

You snort out a laugh, shaking your head before laying on his chest again and closing your eyes to sleep.

“We both know you wouldn’t do that. Would you really want all those people looking at me? Thought I was all yours, don’t you wanna keep me to yourself?”

“Damn, you’re right. Guess I’ll have to pick out a pretty dress and then I can take you home and have you walk around in nothing for me.” He smiles and kisses the top of your head, sighing out a tired exhale. “Now, sleep time, Bebita. You dream of the pretty dresses I’ll get for you, no exams, and I’ll be dreamin’ about you in nothing.”

A laugh escapes your lips, nodding in agreement, “Goodnight, Javi.”

“Night, Bebita.” There’s more he wants to say, burning in his chest, but he knows it’s too soon — too much right now and it would scare you off. Instead, he holds you closer and kisses your head again, drifting off contently with you in his arms to take care of.

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Fuck it - Matt Sturniolo - Part 4

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Summary: Fem!oc x Matt Sturniolo

Growing up with parents who make her feel isolated, what happens when she meets Matt. A person who introduces her to new people, new experiences and new feelings.

Authors notes:

This chapter is my life rn fr

Warnings: Swearing

Word count: 2879

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

“Is this something we are meant to do?”

“Fuck it.”

Alyia Pov:

I was sat sketching in my last period of the day, creating small doodles around the edges of the sheets I got handed only thirty minutes prior. I had attempted to go to the library to focus on my work but it had the opposite effect. I had been sat here for half an hour and spent that time doodling eyes in the corner of my work accompanies by small starts and hearts. My phone suddenly vibrated in my pocket which caused me to be dragged from the comfort of my sketches. A loud sigh escapes my lips as I bring the screen towards my face which shines in near full brightness. The top of my notification bar held a text message from Matt, sent only a minute prior.

Matt🥁:

‘hey alyia, can we work on the project at my house today rather than yours?’

I tap the border of my phone, picking in the gaps of the phone case and the metal flicking between replies in my head.

Alyia🎸:

‘yeah sure, any particular reason why?’

Matt🥁:

‘I just have some shit to do before hand and I don’t wanna go back and forth between places’

Alyia🎸:

‘alr then, send me the address and time and ill come over’

Matt🥁:

‘sweet, can you be here for 7 ish’

Alyia🎸:

‘see you at seven Matt’

I sit staring at my screen for a while, looking at the ‘online’ that lingered under Matt’s contact name. He finally leaves the chat and I follow suit to place my phone face down on the desk. I let my hands rest on the desk but my body leans back into the chair. I haven’t ever been to his house before and I was used to him coming to mine, I had no idea if his brothers or parents would be there. How they would react to me suddenly being in their house.

I didn’t get a chance to properly react or overthink due to the bell’s intrusive sound that emits from above on the library’s walls.

-

It had been an hour since I had gotten home and it was nearly time for me to leave my house if I wanted to get to his place on time. I had just finished building my outfit which wasn’t too casual but it wasn’t smart either. A long-sleeved top with a shorter-sleeved, thinner sweater onto covered a black shirt that hung just above my knee. A pair of black tights ran up my legs only being covered by some plain air forces which seemed too worse for wear. Even if the weather didn’t immediately call for it, I paired the outfit with a black jacket I purchased a few years ago. The arms of the jacket swung off the edge of the leather seat I threw it on to. I rummage through my desk drawers for my keys, vitamins, charger and any extra notes to throw into my backpack.

-

Their house looked so put together from the outside of it the designs being simplistic but appealing to look at. The car outside was one I recognised from the same parking spot at the entrance of the school which him and his brothers exited every morning. I noticed them walk towards the main entrance on my way to the music room most days.

I stand in front of their main door and I hesitate before finally hitting my knuckles onto the centre of their door making sure I avoid the blurred glass. A shadow emerges from behind that glass and I take a small step back not wanting to feel immediately intrusive.

“Hey, oh-“ my words fade when I realise Matt wasn’t the one who answered the door but instead it was a longer haired brunette.

“Alyia? Hey what’s up” he grabs a hold of the door frame and uses the rest of his weight to push the door open “Come one in”

I don’t respond right away, making note that Chris remembered my name perfectly. Either he focused on that detail when he first met me and barged into the music room, or Matt has spoken about me to his brothers often enough for them to know. As unlikely as that was.

“Chris, hi.” I take a step inside, following Chris and shutting the door behind me which he ignored and left.

“What are you doing here?”

“Matt didn’t’ tell you” I’m only met with a slight shake of his head due to a lollipop he just placed in his mouth.

“Matt wanted me to come to his house to work on the project tonight” I slide my backpack down my arm, noting the loss of friction as it gets stuck on the folds of my sweater

“Really? Kid didn’t mention that to me.” I go to respond but another voice emits before mine does.

“Chris, who was it!”

“It was Alyia, Matt has invited her over for the English shit.” Chris walks past a corner and his volume in his voice decreases, so I follow him to listen to the conversation that now included me.

“Alyia is here?” Nick turns from the sofa and rests an arm on the back as he faces me directly.

“Hey guys... uhm hate to interrupt but where can I put this?” my backpack rests in my palm, causing my wrist muscles to flex slightly and after a few seconds it starts to ache further down my arm.

“Literally anywhere at this point, we need to clean up this weekend anyway.” Nick circles his wrist in a general location of the main sitting area.

I drop my backpack and use my foot to push it further to the side, so that no one trips up over it.

“So…where is Matt?”

“In the shower upstairs, but he went in 10 minutes ago so he should be out soon” Chris speaks, keeping his gaze fixed on his phone in my hands, slumping down next to Nick harshly.

I simply nod in response and start to sit next to them, creating a small distance between us. I follow Chris’s actions and pull out my phone and go onto random apps one after another before finally scrolling on Instagram for a moment. I few minutes of awkward silence go by before a loud voice echoes from up the stairs.

“Yo Nick, have you seen my pink shirt, the one with the bear on it?”

“Yeah, it’s on top of the table down here!” Chris yells back up to Matt upstairs.

I lift my head up from my phone, putting my attention onto the voices exchanging between each of the brothers. Footsteps approach and I see Matt walking down the stairs towards the three of us.

Traces of water track down the back of his neck from water that was adsorbed from the towel he now holds in his arms. Strands of hair cling to his forehead which appear darker, almost black. His lower body is hugged by a blue pair of plaid pyjama pants, sat on the bottom of his hips. His tattoos are clearly on show and I take this time to analyse them, noticing a few designs I hadn’t seen before. They traced around his arms and tracked the lines of his muscles alongside missed droplets of water. He brushed the strands from the front of his face backwards, parting his hair with his fingers slowly, not wanting any knots to remain. His tongue parts his lips slightly, wetting them briefly. He finally looks up from the floor and notices me sat on their sofa.

Shit.

“Alyia...hey you’re here early” He reaches the bottom of the stairs and walks towards the vibrant shirt on the table.

I swallow harshly when he turns around, his back facing me as he lifts the shirt over his head and past his shoulders. His back muscles flex as he drags it past his chest and hips

“Uh, yeah, my car is being fixed so I had to take the bus... I just took the one that wouldn’t make me late.” I rub the back of my neck, trying to calm myself down.

“I guess that’s fair. So, you wanna work on the project now?”

“Yeah, about that.” Chris mumbles and drags out his words and Matt looks at him with a confused expression.

“Why can’t we Chris.” His tone is a little harsher and his voice raises in pitch as he grows more curious.

“Well. I didn’t know Alyia was coming over for one, so I invited Nate and Madi over...”

I hear a sigh from Matt from across the room and I look up at him.

“Nate’s that hockey player in our English class, right?”

“Yeah, he is” he stops looking at me and turns to face Chris. “Did you invite them to do anything?”

“I mean yeah. I do every time, games n shit. You guys can fuck the project for one night to hang?” Chris’s demeanour has relaxed and he cross his arms over his lower stomach.

“Alyia hasn’t ever spoke to Nate and Madi is that fair?” A voice from Nick emits for the first time in a while.

I sit up and put my arms weight on my knees, slouching over. “I can always leave if you wan-“ I suddenly get interrupted by Matt and I glance up to him, his expression making him seem deep in thought.

“You could hang out with us if you wanted. It’s not like these guys know you, it could be fun to know each other more.”

“I’m so down if y’all are?” Chris faces Nick, earning an eager nod. I get a similar eagerness when Chris turns his body to me expectantly.

“If you guys don’t mind, then I’m down.”

-

A few hours had gone by and we were all sat down on the floor onto of pillows and blankets playing an intense game of monopoly. Initially I was intimated by practically 4 new people in an unfamiliar setting but once we all sat down and started talking, I got used to it. I had found out that Nate was the captain of the hockey team and that Madi was working with fashion and was in Jenny’s class. Chris’s personality filled the room whenever intense moments happened and it was fun to be around. He was a bubble of energy and it felt like Nick had to reel him back down any time he yelled too much. Which seemed to be often. Chris was being a sore lower in monopoly anytime someone had to take money for him, only to celebrate moments later when he passed go and got $200. Nate was currently winning but Nick and I weren’t fair behind him money wise. Nick was winning property wise and already set in multiple hotels down.

“Oh, come on! Again!” Chris had started to complain again which made us giggle, especially Matt as Chris once again owed him money.

“Not my fault, I own Oxford Street and so...you owe me money.” Matt holds his hand across the board in front of Chris who simply rolls his eyes and begrudgingly slaps $1100 into his hand.

It was my turn to roll the dice and a number of 4 is added between them. I grab the dog character and move it across, landing on the same square that Chris did. I sigh and flick through my money and pull out $1100 and hold it out for Matt to take.

“Damn again, Matt you’re getting lucky right now I swear” Madi giggles along with Nate and Nick but Chris still sulks at his loss of money. Matt's hand reaches forwards and grazes mine as he takes the money with a weak smile.

-

“Damn it. I’ve fucking landed on Mayfair” I see Nick slam his money down on the board. Nate just responds with laughter as he takes the money from Nick.

I had lost a while ago, having to mortgage my property after I landed on Oxford Street again, I sat to the side talking with Chris and Madi who had lost to Nate.

“Honestly I’m glad that ended, it’s getting late” Nate mumbles before yawning.

“late? How late” I quietly speak as I pull my phone off the sofa behind me and turn the screen on, the screen a little too bright now that it was dark outside. “Oh shit.”

“Hey, you okay?” Matt stands up and faces me, leaning down to reach the board to help pack it away.

“Its like eleven right now, buses are gonna be fucked.” I frown at my phone screen as I pull up my bus times for the journey home.

“You could always stay over, it’s not like we have classes tomorrow.” Chris smiles at the suggestion Nick makes, facing me with a genuine kindness.

“Really? It wouldn’t be intrusive; I mean I’ve known you for one day.”

“We've heard enough through Matt to be honest; it would be nice honestly.”

“I appreciate it, but one problem. I don’t have any spare clothes on me” I look down at the outfit questioning if it’s suitable enough to sleep in.

“I have some clothes you can borrow...” Madi finishes putting the board game away and faces me with a wide smile.

“If that doesn’t fit since she is shorter than you, I have shit you can use for the night.” Matt reaches into the cupboard to place the box onto a high shelf.

“Uhm sure. If that’s okay”

“Of course, no worries.”

-

Matt pov:

I have showed Alyia to a spare room we have across from mine and carried her things into it and placed them at the foot of the bed. We haven’t had a chance to paint or fully decorate the room apart from the bare minimum but thankfully, she didn’t seem to mind. I return back to my room while I grab a few options of clothing for her to wear overnight. One of which is the same ransom tee I wore the first time Alyia and I met. I smile briefly while walking back towards Alyia’s room.

“Hey I picked out a few options for you”

“Thanks again for this, I appreciate it” Her demeanour seems more closed of than it was when playing the game less than an hour ago. She seems to hide herself, rubbing her arm in what I can only assume as a form of self-comfort.

“You, okay?”

“Hm? Yeah, I’m fine. Just don’t want to feel like I’m overstepping” She sits down on the bed behind her.

“Trust me. You aren’t, I want you here.” Those words come out a little too fast than what I wanted them to.

“Really?”

“Yeah...really.”

We smile at each other for a moment before I snap out of it and hand her the clothes that were draped over my arms.

“Thank you, Matt.” She gives me a small smile which I reciprocate before I even process it.

Her phone suddenly vibrates on the nightstand displaying the name ‘Scarlett Hawkes’.

“Sorry, I have to take this.”

Alyia pov:

“Hello mother.”

“Hello Ally, why are you not at home?”

“I went out with friends, I’m staying over.”

“And you didn’t tell me? I’m at home waiting for you and you aren’t here.”

“You didn’t tell me you would even be home.”

“I told you I would be home on Thursday, Ally”

“Mother it’s Friday.”

“Either way I expect you to be home tomorrow.”

I sigh and hang up the phone, not wanting to deal with the conversation any longer and I place my phone back on the nightstand.

“Sorry about that” I mumble quietly.

“Was that your mum?”

“Uh yeah, she is finally home and wondered why I'm not.” I speak slyly, hoping he doesn’t pick up on my attitude.

“I haven’t ever seen your mum at your home before...”

“She travels a load; she works in fashion and is constantly travelling and my dad organises her meetings and manages all her work. They try to be home when they can but it’s not often enough.”

“Fuck...well you’re always welcome over here if you ever feel lonely or something”

“Yeah?”

“Of course, you’re my mate and you get on well with my brothers and everyone, tonight was fun. I’m glad you stayed over.” He offers me a smile and I smile back, watching as he sits down next to me.

“Well thanks for inviting me”

“Don’t sweat it, the buses are awful at night and we have nothing planned”

I keep my smile as I look down at my hands, fidgeting with them quietly.

“Well...I’ll uh let you get ready and I’ll see you in the morning?”

“Yeah, thanks again for this” I meet his gaze, standing up holding the clothes he gave me a few moments ago.

“If you need anything, let me know, yeah?”

I nod to him as he leaves my room, pushing the door to. His footsteps fade as he walks to his own room, hearing the chair creak as he sits in it.

I flick through the few shirts he gave me and I pull out a ransom shirt.

The one he wore when we met.

@yuhayeee @melliflws @axolotllover225 @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @sturniolosmind @worldlxvlys @patscorner @breeloveschris @y0urm4m

[minhyeong]

&. 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 (𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐞)

genre: angst, unrequited love au | word count: 1,188

↳ Jaemin thought you were a lot like a red balloon that he accidentally released into the blue sky, hastily slipping right out of his grasp and floating far away. 

He used to do this peculiar, little thing where he would allow himself to briefly, for just a few short moments, fall in love with another stranger who stepped into his line of vision on the streets, train stations, and even at the corner store that he frequented. 

Jaemin was good at falling in love with strangers to fill the momentary bouts of loneliness, but he was also good at falling out of it. No face in the sea of people lingered too long in his mind. 

So he didn’t understand why he allowed you, of all strangers, to stay. Perhaps you had shown up when a particular bout of loneliness stretched on for a little too long. 

Jaemin couldn’t quite remember the first time he laid his eyes on you or pinpoint the exact moment you dug a deep well into his heart until you became someone irreplaceable. However, he could vividly recall the way he felt like he was drowning at the bottom of the well when you told him you started seeing someone. 

The skyline was so bright, and the breeze smelled like lemons and cotton candy. Sidewalks were littered with doodles drawn with broken chalk. The chocolate ice cream he had before he left the house left a sickly sweet aftertaste on the tip of his tongue. There was a spring in his steps as he approached you, the grin reaching his eyes that squinted under the relentless sunrays. It was the first day of summer, and his life was going to change; he could feel it. 

His confession was knocked right out of his mouth. Jaemin had to fight to keep the smile on his face while you raved about someone else. The revelations felt awfully like violent stabs of rejection for the words that he never had the chance to deliver. 

Jaemin thought you were a lot like a red balloon that he accidentally released into the blue sky, hastily slipping right out of his grasp and floating far away. 

He didn’t think it was possible for him to hate the first day of summer this much. 

Jaemin disappeared off the face of the earth for four days before he reappeared. He spent his time alone sitting on park benches and empty tables at cafes where a bitter scent hung heavy in the humid air and thoughts of missed opportunities clouded his mind. 

After eleven missed calls and blocks of blue text messages, he finally responded to your twelfth call. 

“Where have you been?” Your voice pierced through his phone as you demanded answers. Then, you faltered, huffing as you paced around your room to calm down. “Are you going through something? You know you can tell me anything.” 

A wistful silence settled in between the call. Jaemin fiddled with the hem of his white shirt. “Sorry for ghosting you,” he mumbled with a brief chuckle. “Want to... hang out?” Even without seeing him, you could sense his hesitation and mild uneasiness.

Jaemin showed up in front of your house in thirty minutes with half melted ice cream and beverages in a reused takeout bag. He barged his way into your living room before you could even fully open the door for him, and you nearly got knocked over by the force of his sudden enthusiasm. 

“I brought your favorite! I was thinking we could watch a movie! Or maybe even two movies if you don’t fall asleep by then, so we have to start now!” He shoved everything on your coffee table aside and unloaded everything inside the bag. When he noticed your stillness, he paused, returned your stare, and cocked his head to the side. “What?”

He confused you like a challenging puzzle, and sometimes you wondered if you really knew him. You shook your head, simply glad to have your quirky friend back, and settled into the couch beside him. He handed you a spoon and shoved the tub of ice cream into your hands, wrinkles forming at the corners of his eyes as he took the lid off for you. “Little Mermaid?” 

Jaemin sang along, forcing out every high note he could rip out of his strained vocal cords, and he appeared so happy whenever you stole quick glances at him that you forgot all about the way he behaved strangely for the past few days. 

You didn’t even notice an incoming call until he faintly heard your phone vibrating next to the half emptied bottles on the table and nudged you with his knee to bring your attention to it. 

He wished he hadn’t when you flipped your phone over and he saw the contact. He didn’t miss the way your entire face lit up when you answered the call, and he certainly didn’t mean to overhear your conversation even though you had stepped away. 

But there was a warmth in your voice that he was unfamiliar with, the kind that made his heart lurch, the kind that filled his lungs with waves of despair. He clutched his spoon a little harder until the plastic folded under the pressure. 

By the time you returned, Jaemin had already cleaned up your table of trash and wiped down the stains on the glass. He stood by your door with his sneakers on, looking a little lost. 

You glanced at the television screen that was still paused at the spot you left off at. “Where are you going? The movie isn’t over yet.” 

“It’s late,” he said sheepishly. “I should go.” 

You blinked at him, confused by the switch in his behaviors once again. “You can stay over. It’s not like you never slept over before.” The chuckle you let out quickly dissipated when he maintained a stoic expression with glassy eyes that were bordering on sadness. You uneasily shifted your weight from one foot to the other. 

His eyes flitted toward you when you called out to him with a soft murmur. 

You were looking right at him, eyes unwavering as you inched toward him, but he didn’t feel seen. 

Jaemin couldn’t help but think he felt a little less lonely before he met you. 

“No,” he asserted, a broad grin returning to his face. “It’s fine.”

It wasn’t enough to convince you. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, I’ll see you around,” he interrupted before slipping out the door. You rushed forward to hold it open before it could slam shut, jamming your foot in the door frame as you stepped out. 

Jaemin was already halfway down the block before he pivoted on his heels. The faint street lamp tinted his features a gentle orange. He smiled at you, so you smiled back despite the inexplicable dread that sat heavy on your chest. 

“Have a good summer.” He waved, the smile never leaving his face, before he pivoted again, sprinting down the street and vanishing into the summer night.

He felt like a stranger. 

No, Jaemin could never be a stranger, yet an odd feeling took over, as if you were never going to see him again, and if you did, he wouldn’t be the same Jaemin you once knew.

[suguru-is-typing]

Another note was left but this time, it was neatly folded up into an envelope decorated with many blue hearts and blue stars stickers. It genuinely looked like a child decorated it. And you don't even know how this person keeps getting in your office with no trace. Inside it contained a letter that says:

"YOU'RE SO MEAN SUGURU :((( I haven't gotten a reply since the last note I left you??? Were the three years we spent together all for nothing :((( I even let you eat so many of my snacks back then AND I EVEN LET YOU KISS ME ONE TIME TOO so so mean of you I thought we had something more. Come back my little cult leader:(( You're gonna regret it when I get eaten by a curse in one of my missions these days :(( Maybe I'll donate most of my money so I can get your attention too

-xoxo

-P.S new phone number :))) definitely not a burner phone for you or anything."

And there it was, a quickly written out phone number bright and center on the bottom of the page. There's even really bad doodles of a white haired man with sunglasses and a long raven haired man beside him, the doodles consisted of various states of kissing??? Honestly, it just looked like blobs if you don't squint hard enough.

It isn't pure coincidence either that a few hours after the discovery of the mysterious letter, an anonymous donation was made to your organization consisting of so many zeros it looked impossible for a man to have.

reading the letter, suguru sighed heavily. it had been-... how many years now? too many to count. still the white-haired devil refused to give up. it was almost impressive, really. suguru's eyes lingered on the phone number, considering whether or not to call. a burner, just for him. there was always something deep in his chest that yearned for it, though he suppressed it over what he liked to think of as 'better judgement'. folding the note and tucking it into his robes, he carried on with his day.

it was when he received the random donation that he caved. that many zeros was the work of only one person, suguru knew. he pulled the note back out and read over the phone number again, chewing on his bottom lip. he was dialling it before he even realized what he was doing. listening to the call tone. as soon as he heard it pick up, suguru spoke.

"you really can't stay away, can you satoru? not even for your own damn good."

[doodling-doodle]

Doodle

Where is part four of He's Not Dead But Still Gone?

Doodle

It's time for angst again

It's been a minute!

I will say... this is the last part, and y'all are finally getting a happy ending.

Don't kill me for waiting for so long.

It had been about two weeks since they got there. Since Kyle saw Dad for the first time in years.

He still wasn't sure about it. He had frequent calls with his therapist to stay calm, Alex was talking with him, admitting that he was also struggling with seeing him again.

Lilith was also helpful, offering to come down and see him, spend a few days with him. He was considering it. Just to get away from it for a few days

This was the first time he spent more then a weeks with the whole 141 since his and Alex's wedding. He wasn't sure how he felt about it, especially with not even seeing Ghost and Soap for more then a few days a year in the last seven years. But, it was nice seeing them. He missed them and they missed him.

But... His dad just seemed like a husk. He was there. He was him. He was how he remembered mostly. But he didn't remember him.

And he was more broken every time he looked at him.

But, every night... He would be on that bench by the water, and John would come out with him. To talk with him.

He was slowly realizing that he did want to talk to him. He did want him back in his life.

Alex was right. It was fine... Even if they didn't have the same relationship as they did before, it was fine.

He wished he didn't doubt him. Why did he in the first place?

Now he was going back to the hotel room, in near tears, because he was scared if Alex would say anything, get mad at him for doubting him.

He remembered his break down from years before, when everything was at it's peak, when he ended up in a mental hospital for a week after wreaking their room on base, giving Alex bruises in the process. Alex had told him what had happened that day, even in not great detail... but it was enough.

Alex was trying to hold him still, stop him from taking another picture frame and breaking it, from hurting either of them. He had punched Alex while getting out of his grip, and then ended up breaking another frame, smashing it on the desk and sending shards everywhere.

Alex radioed Laswell to get medics, who ran in and forced him down to sedate him, then took Alex to the med bay with him to treat his wounds.

He remembered being put into the car to go to the hospital, looking out the window to see Alex watching the car as it left the base. He cried his eyes out, not even able to say goodbye to him before he was put in the hospital, not having his phone to contact anyone. He would sit in his room, sobbing in his freezing bed, hugging a pillow and trying to pretend it was Alex.

He remembered being released, and being escorted out of the hospital, seeing Alex leaning on his car, bruises and stitches on his arms. He had started sobbing there and then, then bawling as Alex pulled him into his arms.

He said "I'm sorry." too many times to count.

Alex said "It's okay." too many times to count.

He always remembered it. He was scared about it happening again. He was scared about Alex's reaction if it were to happen again...

He shakily went into their hotel room, Alex just getting ready for bed as he walked in, turning to him and smiling softly.

"How'd it go?" He asked

"U-uh... fine. Still not remembering anything but he's at least it's... something."

"Good. Anything else? About anything?"

"No..."

"Your shaking."

He hated how eagle eyed Alex was sometimes.

"What's going on?" Alex asked, holding his hands softly.

"I-I... I didn't believe you..."

"About Price?"

He nodded, tearing up again as Alex pulled him to the bed.

"You were hurt, baby. Badly. You were left with thinking that he didn't love you anymore. And you couldn't bare seeing him. I don't care if I was right or not. I just care if your okay. If your happy. I don't want you to have another breakdown. Seeing him... has probably brought up more things from those years then before. You are so strong for seeing him, even if you weren't expecting it. I don't care if you didn't believe me. Because you thought it was too wishful. And I don't blame you."

Kyle nodded softly, a little relived, but still sobbing and shaking, "I'm sorry..."

"Kyle, look at me." Alex said softly, and Kyle looked up, tears running down his face.

"You don't have to apologize. Just... happy that it went better then you thought it would."

"I-I don't want to go back to the hospital..."

"You won't." He softly kissed Kyle's head, holding him close and laying him down in bed, "Go to sleep, baby. We can... talk about it when your calmer."

He managed to fall asleep. Laying in warmth, Alex holding him in his arms and him wrapping himself around Alex.

He was safe... He was home.

The next day...

John sighed as he woke up, Phil still sound asleep in bed next to him.

He always liked to look at Phil in the light of the sunrise. His hair would turn golden, his skin would glow, and when he would open his eyes, they would shine so beautifully...

Phil talked about all that was going on while he was in a coma... God, he wished so many things went differently, so many people wouldn't be hurt... Kyle wouldn't have left. Maybe.

He could have walked him down the aisle.

But wishing would do nothing... He just fucking wanted to tell Kyle, but... whenever they were on the bench, it would only be thirty minutes.

But maybe tonight... Tonight he would tell Kyle the truth.

"Your thinking." Phil said, making him look back to the bed, seeing him sitting up slightly, "What's going on?"

"I need to tell Kyle..." He said, sighing.

"It'll be good, John. He just wants you to love him."

"I know... I'm just worried about him. He's not the boy I remember..."

"It really shattered him, John. He's gone through a lot of therapy to even get to this point... And he had to have even more appointments since that day. Three times a week for the first few years, Alex would take him to a rage room at least once a week for months... Knowing that he's still your son, that you still love him. It would either make it better or break him. But you won't know until you tell him."

John nodded, sighing, looking back at Phil as he picked up his phone, seeing a text from Alex.

"Alex and Kyle are getting breakfast downstairs. Johnny and Simon are with him. You wanna go and find them?"

"Yeah... Let's go."

Breakfast went fine, they were talking about the weddings and everything. John's memory got brought up, which is when Kyle got silent.

"You alright, Kyle?" Johnny asked.

"Yeah- Yeah sorry, just... zoned out for a second." He said, and perfectly on cue, he got a call, "I'll be back." He stood, picking up the call from Lilith and walking out of the dining area in the hotel.

Alex sighed quietly, but decided to say nothing. Kyle was not in the headspace for dealing with anymore stress. But it was probably just Kaida checking on him.

Ghost decided to change the subject back to the wedding, which was in two weeks.

It just... Had to go right. Hope for the best.

Kyle seemed a little distant for the rest of the day all the way to dinner.

But he still went out to the bench to wait for John.

"There you are." John said as he walked up, sitting next to him, "How are you?"

"Fine.. You?"

"Been fine... Can I ask how you... know Simon and Johnny?" He was just... trying to see what life Kyle had come up with. If he had at all.

"Well..." He paused, clearly having to think about it, "Alex and I did some work with the 141 a while back. While you were in the coma."

"You kept in touch?"

"My team has... connections. When it comes to gear and weapons. Decided to keep in touch in case they needed anything... ended up becoming friends."

"I assume that said 'connections' are classified, though?"

"Very."

"Understood."

Kyle sighed, looking back out to the water. He wasn't wearing his mask anymore, at all around him, which he thought was a good sign.

"I, uh... I wish I met you earlier, sir." Kyle said, "Your a very good captain. A good man..." He was tearing up, and it made John tear up too. But he didn't see it.

He didn't want John to see it. To question it. No matter how much he wanted to say, "Dad" he didn't. He knew that it would make it worse again. He didn't want to go back to what it was seven years ago.

But... then John spoke.

"Kyle... Please look at me."

No. He was dreaming. This was a joke.

"Gaz. Kyle. Look at me. Please."

This was a fucking joke. A cruel fucking joke.

But he looked over slowly, seeing John looking at him genuinely.

"Son. I'm sorry. I'm sorry it took so long for me to remember you, I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier. I didn't know where to start. How to tell you. But... I remember you. I finally looked at the pictures you left me, two years ago. I remembered everything. Phil had the pictures of just before Alex proposed to you... I'm sorry I never walked you down the aisle. I'm sorry I couldn't be at the wedding. I promised I would, then I never did... I knew you never wanted to see me. So I never reached out. No matter how much I wanted to..." He sighed, looking Kyle in his tear-soaked eyes.

"All I want... is for you to know I love you. That I remember you. That I want you at Phil and I's wedding. But if you don't want that. If your don't want me in your life. I will not force it."

He started sobbing, shaking his head in disbelief, "Dad...?"

"It's me, Kyle... Your my son."

He started crying, jumping into John's arms as he cried his eyes out.

His heart truly started to heal, after so many years.

"Dad...!"

"It's me... It's okay, my boy. I'm here now. Your okay."

He just cried so hard until he couldn't anymore. John held him for so long, even after he stopped crying.

"I'm sorry, dad..."

"You don't need to be."

"I-I was so fucking cold to you..."

"You were hurt. By me. I hurt you... so bad."

"I-"

"Kyle. No. You don't need to be sorry. I promise. All you need is to tell me what you want. Do you want me in your life after the wedding or not?"

"I-I want you! Please, dad, please- I want you in my life!"

"Then I'll be here." He said, pulling Kyle's face out of his shoulder, wiping the tears off his face, smiling, "I'll be right here. You'll be at the wedding... Right?"

He nodded frantically.

"Why don't you bring Lilith too? I'd love to meet the woman."

He sniffed, "I will..."

"Good. Now... Why don't you go off to bed? You can calm down, get some rest, and we can let the others know, okay?"

Kyle nodded, finally pulling away from him, "G-Goodnight, dad..." He said, standing and going back to the hotel.

He tried to make it look like he as okay before he got to the room, shakily opening the door.

"There you are- Baby?" Alex said, quickly standing when he saw that Kyle's eyes were so bloodshot, and his face was wet with tears, "What happened- Are you hurt?!"

"No-No...'

"What's going on, baby?"

"D-Dad... Dad..." He sobbed again, falling into Alex's arms, "Dad remembers me...!" He said, crying into Alex's chest, "He remembers us!!"

Alex was hit with shock and relief so fast that it gave him whiplash. He teared up himself, smiling softly, "Good... Fuck- that's great..." He said, kissing Kyle's forehead, "That's... Fucking. Amazing." He shook his head, sobbing as he took both of them to the bed, holding onto Kyle as they both cried.

Kyle was just exhausted from crying. He was crying so hard and for so long, and it was just so done with the day, even if this was great news.

"Let's just... get to bed, okay?" Alex asked, "We can... take care of the rest in the morning. Talk to Price. Tell the others..."

Kyle nodded, and they both laid down, holding each other as they fell asleep, finally happy and enjoying being there.

The next day...

"Holy shit." Simon said when he checked his phone, "John told Kyle last night."

"He did?" Johnny asked, a little shocked.

"Kyle texted me earlier. John told him everything last night. They're all talking about it right now."

"You think he and Alex are okay?"

"I'm sure. Probably just shocked..." He sighed, "Come on, let's go get breakfast."

They were alone for the first few minutes, but when the others finally came to see them, Kyle was genuinely smiling for the first time in a while.

It was... finally okay. They wouldn't be back in the 141, but, they finally started to be a family again.

It was okay. They were all okay.

They could all heal a little more.

Kyle had his dad back. and he didn't want to lose him again.

Ever.

[oncasette]

THE GREAT HALL — best friends to lovers with tom’s peter parker <3

you’d known peter for as long as you could remember. well, you think. you know you’d met him sometime in elementary school. you just couldn’t remember what it felt like to not be best friends with peter parker, to not have him in your life.

everything with him has always been so easy. the conversations, the plans you made, the late nights you spent talking on the phone—or texting, when he was busy. which was happening a lot more, recently, but you weren’t going to bother him about it.

you hadn’t even realized you’d fallen in love with him until ned had brought it up.

“what?”

“dude, what?”

“in love with peter?” you sputter out, frantically scratching out the heart doodle you’d made on the corner of your notes. it was a blank heart, but it still made you skin sting with the way ned was staring at it.

“yeah, keep up,” he scoffs.

he kept up with the teasing for the next three months. every. day. in your ap chemistry class, the only period neither of you shared with the parker in question.

you’d think he was trying to get you to buy drugs for him, with the way he asked you about it constantly.

“so… you planning on making your move today?” he’d ask and you’d shove your notebook in his face before he could get another word out.

that was, at least, until he mixed up his line.

“if you don’t tell him by the end of the day, i’m going to,” he says, wincing in anticipation of the face full of book he was sure he was about to receive. “and you know how much i hate meddling. but you’re forcing my hand.”

“what?” you half-shout, causing ned to flinch back, away, nearly off the stool he’d been sitting on.

“you heard me.” and then he was silent for the first time in his god forsaken life. it didn’t matter how many times you scribbled on his paper, how many times you poked him with the ball point of your pen, or flicked him with your pointer finger. he was a dead end.

you could already feel the pressure building up at the base of your skull, your nerves and your overthinking. there was no way ned was telling the truth, no way he’d purposely attempt to ruin the little trio you’d had going for the last six years. no, he was absolutely bluffing.

but what if he wasn’t. what if he really did have a death warrant out for you, what if he was the one that ruined everything.

you’d have to tell peter yourself, you decided. if this was going to blow up in your face, you wanted to know about it immediately. not through a half-hearted text a couple hours after you’d gotten home from school. you wanted your closure as fast as you could get it.

“peter,” you call across the couple feet of hallway separating you. he was always in the library after fourth period, for whatever reason, so it’d been easy enough to find him.

“hey-hi!” he looks as nervous as you feel.

“i’ve… uh. i need to tell you something,” you fidget with the straps on your backpack, tightening the straps completely before letting the clasp go that drops the bag down your back with a thwip.

“me too,” he swallows. “you go first?”

he’s so cute you think you’re going to explode.

“ilikeyou,” you exhale. your face is on fire.

“what?”

if one more person says that to you, you’re gonna commit homicide.

“i like you,” you say again.

“oh my god,” he mumbles. he’d gotten up from the cramped table he’d secluded himself into in the corner of the library. he was standing now, facing you, so close you could smell the cologne you’d bought him for his birthday last year. “oh my god, you’re being serious right now?”

you nod, not trusting any of the words that could potentially come out of your mouth.

you think he mumbles out an oh my god again but you’re too focused on the way his lips are on yours to notice. or care, really.

it’s awkward at first. an awkward bump of noses and teeth before the two of you calm down enough to kiss properly. then it’s soft, sweet. his lips taste like vanilla ice cream and cherry chapstick.

“i like you, too,” he says as he breaks away.

[sigridhawke]

I'm still totally normal about "Leather and Linen," so I thought I'd ask if you have any headcanons about Yugi as a kid. What was he like growing up? Did he make friends in school? If not, was it for the same reason as in canon (especially since Yami wasn't there), or because he knew something was waiting for him? Was he doodling birds and ankhs in the margins of his class notebooks and assuming it was just because of his grandpa's adventures? Did he know what he wanted to be when he grew up?

We can be totally normal about Leather and Linen together 🤝🤝

I have many headcanons about younger Yugi! A lot of which I never had a place in the main story or the extra ones I have written, but I have thought about Yugi a lot.

(Also I accidentally spiraled with this so please enjoy my small rant about Yugi lol)

Because I wanted Jou, Honda, and Anzu to be older than Yugi in this setting and to help establish the fact they had been working within ‘The Tower’ for a longer period of time they were absent from any of his schooling life. 

Instead Yugi began much like canon Yugi began  as the quiet shy nerd playing games with himself, doodling video game characters in the margins of his book. Ryou joined the class as an exchange student, and the duo hit it off. Bonding over their similar vibes and that’s how they spent most of their high school years. 

When university came around the duo did part ways in a sense. Still keeping in contact just not as often as they pursued their own goals, and then Ryou drops off the radar and Yugi can’t get in contact with him, no one seems to know where he is. His search for Ryou kinda falls down his list of priorities when Grandpa passes away and he ended up dropping out of university to deal with the everything going on emotionally. 

He goes job hunting instead, not really sure if he wants to try and tackle university again just yet and when a dream job at a gaming company comes his way he can’t not go for it. But like Ryou the job offering was a front for The Tower to get their hands on their desired individual to shove them in the Animus and practically break their brains to get information about the Apple of Eden. 

Because he was in a different city at the time, his Mother didn’t know he had gone missing (and since his phone was taken too there was fake texts sent too to keep his location hidden)

A little more on the technical soul stuff below the cut:

Up until being thrown in the Animus (and finding Ryou again in the communal hall of The Tower) Yugi had no obvious indications he held the still wandering soul of Heba. Which made it easier for him initially to separate himself from Heba.

Excluding Yugi, all of the descendents are only descendents. The Animus taps into their genetic memory and plays them like an old video tape over and over until the film breaks down.

Yugi however, is a little different. While it is correct to call Yugi Heba’s descendent, Yugi is also Heba. When Heba finally went to the afterlife to be with Atem (and Mahad) he felt like he could not truly be at peace because he did not destroy the Apple of Eden. After much begging Atem did finally let him go, using his power as Osiris to reincarnate Heba who spends the next 3000 years wandering/waiting until he is reborn as Yugi. 

Yugi holds Heba’s soul yes, but the life in which Yugi is brought up in with his Grandpa and Mother shape the person he became. 

The Animus ‘reawakens’ his memories so to speak and a part of him knows he’s suffering more than he should be with reliving Heba’s memories. His biggest struggle is being torn between feeling like Heba is him, while wanting to hold onto and believe he is still Yugi. Why Heba’s ‘ghost’ brings him comfort is because he can visualize that ‘nagging at the back of his head’ and see Heba as an entity separate from himself. 

It takes him a very long time to come to terms with his sense of self even after the Apple is destroyed. He’s still struggling but making progress with that in the afterlife just as Atem and Mahad are coming to terms with their Heba not being the same Heba they remembered. But that doesn’t stop them all from trying and working towards their deserved peace and happiness within their polycule in the afterlife <3

[vchanny-og]

Chroma Challenge!

So, a Discord group I'm in did a little challenge. You get a palette or a color and you have to create something with just that. I think it's really meant for artists, but we decided both artists and writers could do it.

And to challenge myself, I did BOTH.

I did a doodle and a drabble. And because I am me, I just created more Sailor Moon content. I am a one trick pony, folks. XD

When I saw my palette, I immediately knew what I wanted to do. And it involves Camp Universe! One of my favorites.

If you did not read my Camp Elysian fic, you can click there to do so. You do not *need* to read it for this, but you can, and you should because it's fun and nostalgic. Anyway! The short version to catch you up is: the gang all work at a summer camp, Kayden is the main camp counselor. Morgan hates his guts at the beginning. Morgan ends up helping Serena and Darien sneak around because there is a strict no dating rule. Kayden does find out. By the end of the fic, Morgan doesn't hate Kayden any more, and he no longer things she's some dumb kid. I'll probably put the drabble up on A03 at some point, but this will do for now. It's not polished or beta'd. BUT. It did feel really good to write *something* after such a long time of not doing so. So, enjoy, or don't. *shrug*

“Excuse me, Your Tallness.”

Kayden’s eyes crept to the now cracked opened door, to greet the grinning blonde who had let herself into the cabin. Without knocking. But that was Morgan. He could let it slide. Her arrival was no surprise–as he’d heard her coming through the opened windows, chatting loudly as she always did with some other camper. So no, it was no surprise. He hadn’t realized it was already so late, though. He wasn’t quite ready to leave.

They had plans. Well, she had plans. He–he simply just followed her whims. “Are you ready yet?”

Today’s whim conflicted with his duties. “Uh,” he began, setting down the paperwork he’d been looking through into a neat pile. “One sec.” He looked at his watch, and then instinctively reached for his red clipboard. “Nuh uh,” she protested loudly. “No Clippy.”

He stilled and looked to her, hands on her hips, her finger wagging in the air as if he was a child reaching for the last cookie. He wasn’t sure what his face had contorted into, but she giggled and bounded over, pushing the clipboard back down to the old, stained coffee table. Then, she took his hand and began trying to tug him from the worn sofa. He knew not to reach for it again.

“I promise we will be back before you have to do your rounds.”

“Like the last time you ‘promised’?”

She rolled her eyes and tugged harder on his arm. “Just come on.”

And he did.

She interlaced their fingers, her hand so small in his, and began quickly leading him down a path of crushed gravel that led away from camp. Morgan was radiant and full of excitement, the last of the day’s sunshine glistening in her hair. He however could not help feeling like everyone was watching him. Watching him get pulled away from camp this close to lights out. What would they say to the one enforcing the rules sneaking off? He could hear the gossip already. Maybe he could come up with some lie? Some emergency he was taking care of. Morgan would tell him to stop worrying, that no one cared, and he shouldn’t care if they said anything anyway.

But he cared.

Mostly he cared because he hadn’t told his grandfather that they were dating yet, and he felt this terrible guilt for setting a bad example and breaking a rule. All behind the back of the greatest man he’d ever known.

But the thought of being away from her all summer was too much. They’d already spent so much time apart.

So, he didn’t disclose their relationship. He was so worried his grandfather would say no. That the rule was there for a very good reason, and grandson or not, he would not allow it. She could not stay. And what would they have done then? They could have continued just seeing each other on random weekends, talking on the phone after 8 every night, but Morgan was a pretty girl. And how long until the novelty of a long distance relationship wore off? How long until someone who lived near her started showing her attention? Before another Aaron showed up? How long before he wasn’t enough?

All this sneaking around was not as fun as Darien and Serena made it out to be the previous summer. It had only been two weeks, and he was so worried people would find out. That they’d rat him out and Morgan would have to go. He knew Jayden would never, but if he jokingly said he was going to tell just to get out of work one more time, Kayden might snap. Maybe he should just tell his grandfather? Rip the bandaid off. Get Jayden off his back. Stop lying and hoping to not get caught. His grandfather would understand, right? Morgan wasn’t just his girlfriend–

“Hello? Earth to Kayden.”

Kayden blinked. He hadn’t realized they’d arrived. Morgan raised a brow and cocked her head slightly to the side. “There you are. What were you lost in thought about?”

“Nothing,” came his casual response. But not nothing. Everything. Morgan was everything. Professing that though–

“Mmhm. Well, forget about nothing, we’re here!” she exclaimed, proudly showing off her surprise.

His hand felt cold with the loss of contact. Kayden looked around for the first time. He recognized this spot. He had caught Morgan chaperoning lunches for Darien and Serena many times here. He’d helped her cover for them here. Let them have their time in this not-so-secret make out spot. Those were the times he got to know Morgan more, as they talked while keeping lookout for the couple. When he realized she was more than she seemed.

She must have come before she gathered him, he thought. There was a quilted blanket–where she stole it from he did not know–covering a patch of grass between an open area of trees. It was quite serene this time of day, the noise of camp dying off, the shadows dancing along the ground.

She grinned when he noticed, said “tada” in her over-the-top way, and sat down. “Take a seat,” she said while patting the blanket next to her. 

She looked so pretty sitting there, the last rays of the light kissing her face and the long shadows from the trees covering the surrounding area like a blanket. He joined her and was rewarded with her leaning into him. He wrapped an arm around her and enjoyed the warmth.

“It’ll be dark soon.” He didn’t know why he said it. He probably ruined the mood, and he instantly regretted it, but the weight of getting back on time was heavy on his mind. He couldn’t help it.

“I know,” she said quietly, leaning closer, looking out toward the slowly retreating light.

He hadn’t figured out exactly what the point of coming out here was yet, other than just being alone together. Which he didn’t mind. He could be a little late for that. He leaned over and tenderly kissed the spot on her neck just below her ear. 

Instead of reciprocating, Morgan laughed and pushed him away. “Stop! You’re going to miss it!”

Kayden was confused. Why were they out here, of all places, if not for a little fun?

Morgan rolled her eyes and leaned back into his frame. “You remember when my family took me for vacation out of state for Spring Break?”

He nodded. They’d absolutely annihilated their plans to see each other with that spur  of the moment trip.

“On the phone one night while I was away, you described how pretty the sunset was.”

He remembered. After their plans had been ruined, Kayden had offered to come help his grandfather do some spring renovations. The hard labor was a welcome distraction.

“And you said, you wish I could have been there.” She paused, and he pulled her in close. “So, I wanted to share a sunset with you, since we couldn’t before.”

“I do remember,” he replied, kissing the top of her head. “Thank you for remembering.”

He would remember this as the night he resolved to tell his grandfather about Morgan. And how much he loved her.

[narrators-journal]

I'm a bad, bad magician

This! Request! Has been in what can be called the writer's equivilent of 'production hell'. I spent so long writing this in chunks due to a mix of family drama, multiple friend dramas going on, and art projects. So if this is janky, I'm very sorry, and I'm so sorry it took so fuckin' long to get out. My life ha been chaos, and on top of that I've been dealing with some mental health shit. But! I tried my best with this, and I hope that it's at least coherent lol. Bc I cannot bring myself to look this thing over a literal fifth time within three days...

Also! There is one last request for this book! But I'm not gonna lie, with the turbulence of my schedule, mental health, and family, I don't know when that will finally come out! So I just hope you enjoy this part, and if you come back to check for that last one, I appreciate it too. Or check out my fanfiction passion project that is gonna be back in the works soon!

Kinktober masterlist: Here

CW: Bondage, master/slave or servant, orgasm denial, I kept it pretty simple for obvious reasons.

With a sigh, Gen Asagiri tossed down his book and looked around at his home. Shockingly modern for a building built after an alien race turned humanity into immortal statues and left their societies to rot and be reclaimed by overgrowth. Yet, despite the fact he’d gone from living in an apartment with little more than a plant and an agent to keep him company, the mentalist still sat alone in his living room. Reading a smut novella since Senku had revoked the television set for parts.

Letting off another sigh, the mentalist tossed his novella aside to stand up. And, without a real plan on what else to do beyond the books, he meandered around his and Senku’s home for a bit. First, to the kitchen to look through the ingredients and experiments kept in their chest freezer, then down the hall towards the bedroom. Yet, he paused when his ear caught the tell-tale sound of his beloved scientist lost in his technical terminology and complex plans. Not an unfamiliar sound at all, as Senku was almost stubbornly prone to rambling about his sciences, but it still planted a mischevious voice in Gen’s head.

Feeling an equally mischevious grin spread across his face as he crept along to the room Senku had made into his partial office and lab. Following the sound of the leek-haired man’s chattering until he pushed the office door open. And, sure enough, Senku sat at the heavy, intricately carved wooden desk with a phone to his ear, and a mat of paperwork and notes in front of him, barely glancing up when Gen slipped into the room.

Lingering by the door, the magician watched him work for a lengthy moment before meandering over to the desk as casually as he could to lean on it and tilt his head. Batting his dark lashes cutely at his partner and giving him a pleading look that Senku, expectedly, missed in favor of scrawling doodles onto his paper and listening to his call partner.

So, huffing at the leek’s cold airs, Gen moved around the desk to lean against the desk, this time a mere step away from his partner, who continued to almost play ignorant to his presence. You’re such an ass.

With that, Gen gave up on his subtle game and simply dropped to his knees to crawl under the desk. Situating himself between Senku’s legs and running the tips of his fingers up along the seam of the scientist’s crotch to finally get a noticeable reaction from the man. But, the magician didn’t stop there, he pressed on. Sliding his fingers back up Senku’s crotch to tug down his zipper.

When he felt those intellegent rubies on him, Gen looked up to meet Senku’s dirty look. His phone partner left hanging as he hissed, “What the hell are you doing, Asagiri?” But his only response was the way the dual-tone-haired man pressed his lips to the shallow tent in in his boxers. Running the palms of his hands over Senku’s thighs and the tips of his fingers along the waistband of the scientist’s underwear. Ignoring his low growl of frustration as he freed his lover’s slowly stiffening member, glancing back up at him with a devious twinkle in his blue eyes. Both aware of Gen’s smugness, and how unsavory Senku’s options were. Abruptly end his work call to punish the bratty mentalist, or try to power through regardless of his antics.

He chose the latter.

So, Gen happily continued his game. Leaving a warm trail of kisses up the scientist’s shaft, lapping at the head of his cock, and relishing each twitch or choked word the leek-haired man let slip as he talked. Especially when the man slipped his length into his mouth. Letting more and more of Senku slip past his lips bit by bit until Gen was about halfway down. Once there, the mentalist began bobbing his head slowly. Taking his time to swirl his tongue around his lover’s cock, and give specific attention to the head until he twitched against his tongue.

And, while most partners would be dissapointed in their lovers reaching their orgasm so soon, Gen found a bit of pride in seeing how, even though Senku was doing everything in his power to ignore him and stay on track with his science talk, the mentalist could still rile the man up in record time. It was thrilling, and empowering, and so many other things that Gen couldn’t quite place as he kept his focus on his lewd movements.

So, he put the thinking aside and simply continued his movements. Taking his time to lavish Senku with attention, but he also took some time to pick up his pace to draw out more twitches, jolts, or rogue noises from the scientist before a warm burst of thick, salty liquid down his throat. Not that Gen minded, happily drinking down the scientist’s cum before pulling away and smiling. Going ahead and standing up to lean back against the desk to watch Senku rush to babble out a farewell and hang up his call.

And, as soon as the odd-haired man hung up his call, he was quick to stand up and slam his hands on either side of the desk behind the man. All the while those ruby eyes pinned Gen in place like a preserved butterfly to be studied with a chilly calculation. “Asagiri.” He said again, his words matching the icy calculation the dual-tone-haired man saw in his expression. And while a small part of him didfeel bad for possibly being a thorn to his lover, a far bigger part of him was ready to melt against that intricately-carved, sturdy desk. “Yes, senku?~” He hummed, his voice dipped in his best sickly innocence, but after all of their time together, Senku saw right through it. “Is there maybe a reason you interrupted such an important call like that?” He asked, the dark, villainous edge in his low voice sending a pleased shiver down Gen’s back.

And, despite Senku seeing through his ploys, the magician threw his arms around the scientist’s neck with a dramatic, “I’m boooooooreeed, Senku! Entertain me, somehow! Since you took my damned television.” His words whiney and playfully pouty as he draped himself against the scientist’s chest and gave him his best puppy-dog eyes. His own blue eyes watching the steps of thought his boyfriend went through before a glint of his own evil ignited in those depths.

”You want me to entertain you?” He asked, as if he didn’t trust the mentalist, even when he nodded eagerly. That glint having grown into an ember that Gen felt in his own belly as Senku continued with a smirk. “Fine. But if you want to be entertained, I need you to fetch some rope.”

Rope. Such a simple request, but it was still enough to make the man gasp with quiet excitement.

Rope was always a good sign, in Gen Asagiri’s books. A promise, of sorts, that he’d be victim to some delicious, torturous game. Prey to the whims of whatever his dear ‘Master’ deemed good enough that night. Or, in simple words, it was never a boring time when Senku brought up rope. “Well? What are you waiting for?” The leek-looking man sniffed, giving a sharp gesture and a firmer order, “Go get me rope.” Stepping into his usual role so easily that Gen coudn’t help but do the same. “Yes, Master.”

With that, the magician was swift to fetch the length of rope they sometimes used for their little games. The simple feeling of the scratchy, gently frayed material in his hand making Gen’s dick twitch in his pants. Yet, he simply took a deep breath and swallowed down the lewd urges bubbling back up in his mind. Breathe, Asagiri. If you’re caught touching yourself over the rope, Senku might get EXTRA creative with his plots. You’ve pushed the boundary enough tonight.He reminded himself, letting out the breath he’d been holding slowly. Then, he took the rope back to Senku.

Finding the leek sitting back at his desk, casually looking over some complex equations with barely a disinterested glance to the magician when he walked back in. “Put the rope down, take your clothes off, and put your hands behind your back.” He said simply. And, while he strictly kept his crimson eyes glued to his papers, Gen still felt his heart race as he dropped the rope to shed his shirt in a calculated, slow movement. Not taking long enough to get scolded, but just sensually enough to channel a seductive strip tease into the way he let his clothing fall to the office floor before obediently putting his hands behind his back.

All the while, his winter-y blue eyes watched Senku take his sweet time in putting his papers down and getting up from his chair to approach. Letting nothing show in his movements as he picked up the rope and began decorating Gen’s skin with a network of bondage.

Only once the mentalist’s wrists had been securely restrained in scratchy rope was he pulled over to Senku’s desk. Watching in silent anticipation as his science-obsessed lover discarded his own pants and sat down. His already-slightly-stiffened cock on display while he dug around in the messy, paper-filled drawers for a small jar of lube he kept in his office. Gen watching with desire warming his blood for the excruciatingly long heartbeats Senku took to lube himself up with slow strokes.

Once he was fully erect, and Gen was fidgeting in his restraints, the scientist finally pulled him over and spun him around. Dragging the magician down on his erection by his tied up wrists. The slow sensation of being full flooding Gen’s head with a thrilling rush of excitement that drew out a low moan as soon as Senku’s entire length was buried in him.

Only for that bliss to be fed when his lover slid a hand around him and wrapped his fingers around the magician’s member. Running his thumb over the head, then sliding down his length entirely. But, again, at a painfully slow pace that stirred up fresh fireworks in the dual-tone-haired man’s belly. Only for that simmering warmth to be interrupted before Gen could build up anything close to his orgasm. Senku’s hand retreating once again in favor of him growling in his ear, “Now, I’m going to return to my calls. Youwill sit there. And If you move, or make a fucking sound, I will keep you blueballed for literal fucking days.” unmistakably feeling the mentalist shudder around his cock as he spoke. Especially when he added, “Am I clear?”

And, without hesitation, the bound man nodded eagerly. His only words an obedient breath of, “Yes, Master.” That seemed to please his lover. Yet, that was the end of the chit-chat between the two. Senku simply returned to making his calls and discussing his precious time machine. So, Gen was left to sit there mutely.

All the while, Senku babbled on about some scientific stuff that, of course, slid in one of Gen’s ears and right out of the other, but just the sound of his voice, and the way his inhales pressed his chest to the magician’s back sent shivers down the dual-haired man’s spine. Even if he wasn’t allowed to move, the subtle twitches of the scientist’s cock in his ass and movements of his body fanned the flames well enough.

Yet, he bit back the urge to whine for a crumb of attention, or squirm in the constricting embrace of the tight ropes the lover had used to so meticulously bind his skillful hands behind his back. Even if some more severe punishment would be all the more fun, he was told to simply sit still on the scientist’s cock until his work call was finally finished.

I really did not time this well. The man thought, his mouth twisted into more creative shapes as he half listened to Senku talk about molecules and chemical reactions for his time machine. If I’d sucked his dick further in the call, I wouldn’t be waiting this long. Yet, he had, so fittingly, this was his punishment.

Though, before the magician’s mind could wander into the recesses of fantasies and maybe a bit of sleep, Senku’s hand slid around to wrap around to his neglected erection. The simple warmth of skin-to-skin contact enough to send a shiver back through Gen’s body and bring him back to the moment entirely. So when the scientist began to slowly stroke his length, a moan nearly bubbled out of the tied man’s mouth. But, he swallowed it back down and settled for simply arching his back while his head lolled back to lay against Senku’s shoulder. The movement a firm reminder of the scientist’s member still buried in Gen’s ass like a forbidden apple, begging to be eaten. Or, in this case, ridden.

Yet, Senku’s earlier words rattled through his head still. “If you move, or make a fucking sound, I will keep you blueballed for literal fucking days.” A dangerous promise that grew more and more likely with each slow stroke of Senku’s hand along his length without missing a beat on his call. His earlier lack of composure seemingly forgotten and corrected. Or, maybe the fact Senku was the one in control this time gave him more composure. Just move. Just wiggle your hips a little bit. A dark voice in the magician’s mind encouraged, but another reminded, If I do that, I won’t get off at all. Senku’s mean enough to follow through on that cruel warning.

Gen let out a small, quiet breath as he laid back against Senku and let the crimson-eyed scientist continue to stoke the flames in his twitching belly. Slowly building that licentious fire bit by bit, log by bitterly slow log. Stewing the magician in a broiling pot of impatience, excitement, and desperate lust as if to tempt Gen to fight the bite of the ropes against his skin.

All the while that Gen Asagiri was fighting the encroaching urges slithering around beneath his skin, the scientist who’s lap he sat in simply kept rambling about his stupid time machine. Working Gen’s cock like it was little more than a lazy doodle in his chemistry textbook while he listened to his college professor. It was torture. Stomach-twisting, breath-stealing, pleasurable torture. Yet, the only acknowledgment of his dick being buried in the magician’s guts, twitching and throbbing, was a husky whisper of, “Remember what I warned you about.” in the split-haired man’s ear when a small whine slipped through the cracks of his lover’s defenses. Offered when Gen’s hands began to fidget against the coarse texture of the rope and his breathing got uneven. Each hissed word earning another addictive shiver around his cock. But, it wasn’t until Gen heard a deliciously thrilling, “Alright, I should get to bed before dawn breaks. Good night, Xeno, thanks for the lecture.”

Maybe the magician hadn’t timed himself too badly.

[thecollectionsof]

Soulmates au 12 + crygi

Crystal’s journal appears on her bed three days after she turned 23. 

She sees it out of the corner of her eye, at first—just a glimpse of purple hiding inconspicuously under a pile of clothes she’s been putting off folding. She doesn’t know what it is at first—nobody tells you that, nobody tells you that it just finds itself hidden in your things like it’s always been there. But there it is.

She flips it open with gentle, almost reverent fingers, not knowing what it held. Has her soulmate found theirs already? Have they written in it? It can’t have been too long, she only did her laundry a few days ago, but what if her soulmate was mad at her for not finding it until now?

There are words on the first page, a neat script written in pen taking up the first few lines. 

Hi, I’m your soulmate I guess! I’m excited to hear from you!

Her heart feels like it’s beating out of her chest, the words etching themselves into her mind. Her soulmate! Her soulmate wants to talk to her!

There’s more, a line down. 

I’m not sure when you’ll find yours, I guess. I’m Gigi, by the way, it reads, a heart drawn next to the words. 

Crystal scrambles for a pen.

My name is Crystal! she writes, then takes a moment to think. How do you introduce yourself to your soulmate, anyway? She’s spent countless hours dreaming and fantasizing of times spent talking about everything, sharing love notes and funny thoughts, but never how to start. I’m glad you’re a girl, like I knew I was gay but I was still scared I’d get some guy named Jared or something. 

She regrets it immediately, but she thinks scribbling it out would make a bad first impression, so she doesn’t. The page remains the same even after she watches it for a reply for a few seconds, and she doesn’t know whether she’s glad about that or not. She doesn’t feel like she’s done but she doesn’t know what else to say, so she takes out a pack of colored pens (she was currently writing in orange) and doodles herself (and her cat, for good measure). It’s not perfect but she makes it colorful, hoping that Gigi would like it.

She really, really hopes that Gigi will like it. That she’ll like her.

Gigi doesn’t respond, not yet at least. Crystal doesn’t want to admit how long she spent watching the page, then scrolling on her phone and only glancing at it every few minutes. (Four hours by her count, each minute dragging on until she can hear more from her soulmate.)

Crystal!

Crystal’s usually fruitless glance shows the neat script written in the blank space under Crystal's portrait. The way she writes her name, the exclamation point, and the sheer excitement of seeing more of Gigi makes her shoot up from the slump she had fallen into as she waited.

I’m also glad. I’d hate a Jared, you’re much better. She signs it with another heart. Crystal scrambles for her pen, knocking it off her desk in her haste, but when she picks it up she finds that Gigi wasn’t done. Is this you? Do you have a cat?

There’s a space, and then she went down one line. You’re cute, Crystal. :)

Crystal watches, mystified, as the space on the next page is slowly filled with thin lines and an elegant figure that starts to take form. It’s slow but she can’t look away—Gigi’s drawing herself and Crystal wants to watch everything about it. 

The figure is thin, almost like a fashion illustration, and the pen strokes are measured as she perfects the outline, streaks of hair framing a narrow face with some kind of dress taking shape on the page. She feels almost giddy as she watches. This is her soulmate! This is Gigi!

This is me. I hope, Gigi starts writing, then she crosses it out swiftly, and replaces it with a smiley face.

Crystal scrambles for her pen. So pretty!  she assures, and then underlines it, trying to show Gigi how much she means it. 

So is yours!

I’m so sorry but I’m at work and that was my break and I have to go right now but

There’s a pause as Gigi hesitates, and Crystal watches the page carefully for the rest of the sentence.

but will you be here in a couple hours? I really want to get to know you.

Crystal finds herself nodding quickly, before remembering to put her pen to the page. 

Yeah! Of course!!! I’ll be here :) Have a good day at work!

Great see you then!!!!

Crystal sits back and closes her notebook with a sigh. She met her soulmate! And she wants to talk to her! And get to know her! She doesn’t know what to do with herself for the rest of the day, knowing that she’d just be distracted by the purple notebook no matter what she did. She just wants to learn more about Gigi, but she’ll have to wait.

But it doesn’t mean she can’t talk about her. She opens her phone in record time, hitting call on the first saved number before she even has time to think about it. “Daya, you won’t believe what I just found.”