#maybe i should really take that quiz

[fishwanderingforest]

Why the FVCK do only women flirt with me like yes gorgeous thank u for the compliment I'll continue blushing now for the next 5 to 7 business days, as a compliment from a (queer) women is among the highest form of compliment u can get, however sadly I am attracted to men but they simply won't fvcking flirt with me, wtf am I doing wrong, I just want a boyfriend

[icewindandboringhorror]

Just curious what the average level of personal investment in these sorts of things is. Like, how much do people usually get into silly stuff like this their friends ask of them? etc. etc. Which I know, only surveying a small sample on a very specific website means I'm not getting an exact average idea lol, but.. curious nonetheless .. Maybe reblog for bigger sample size but also this is not very serious at all/not worth a call to action gbhjbhjb

[sootandfangdiary]

I have less homework this semester than last semester but gah . It is much longer/harder than last semester

[inkskinned]

it's just that there's a few more steps you have to take that other people don't have to take, but they don't see the steps, so they think you should be able to hop from moment to moment, a chickadee.

it isn't getting out of bed. it is the weight, the hook in your chest, the anchor. you have to move the anchor first. you have to silence your alarm, but your phone is in your hand, which means now you have to put the phone down, which is too-hard. you get stuck in there for a while, the white screen, mindlessly scrolling. you don't even like this activity, have tried a few other options but - here you are, and time is passing.

you've googled iron deficiency causes depression and if i drink enough water does it help with mental illness and anxiety but no caffiene within the last two weeks, like how you googled am i gay quiz at 17.

it isn't just calling the doctor back, it's the anxiety, it's these little moths in your lung cavities, furious and fluttering. you need to figure out how to capture your fingers from between their nervous bodies. you are an adult, you can say the words yes hi, i'm calling because i need - but you need to practice first. maybe write it down because what if you misspeak, wouldn't that be embarrassing. write it down, but you need to find a pen first. well, actually, your desk is kind of messy. you should get a new pen. you should get a new organizational system. you should try journaling.

your grades in school were always strange. the way teachers would say things like it feels like you're not trying. you could touch stars in the stuff you cared about. well, sometimes. god be willing. homework average zero. oops! your english teacher's wrinkled brow: i know you know this stuff. what the fuck are you doing?

it isn't the showering, it's the mirror before the shower and the soft horrible pull of your naked physique. you have to avoid eye contact completely or else it'll be 93 minutes later and you'll have picked at your skin until every little pore is bleeding. you have to stand up but standing is tiring and also you should have remembered to buy more soap but you never remember anything. maybe get out of the shower and while it's still running and you're still dripping wet, use your phone to take a note. make a note to get your groceries. let the shower run while you stand half-in half-out and get lost in your phone for a moment. come back out when the water runs cold and now you have to sprint to get ready.

your grandmother's frown. you're just being lazy. protestant work ethics in a house that isn't even protestant. she says she just learned different but she means learned better, doesn't she.

it's not that you can't send the email, it's that your hands have been hurting lately and the desk really is messy and also why the fuck would you even care about this thing? doesn't everyone else feel like they're drowning? hi brendon thanks so much for sending! will review and get back to you shortly. but now you're on the internet, close the tab with tumblr on it. go on, close it. feel the little soft vapor of boredom come up and over your eyeteeth and make everything overwhelming and itchy.

literally all you have to do is put on shoes to go outside. you're literally already dressed, that's the hard part of this whole thing. literally just put the shoes on. just... do it! do it! this shit is easy!

it's literally that easy. just stop taking all those stupid invisible steps. stop following your strange made-up rules. times like this, even you're positive you're faking. you just don't want to bother with the cleaning and the cooking and the being-an-adult.

but then - shouldn't you be able to put these stupid shoes on? nobody's even looking. go on kid. life is out there! just take the leap!

get moving.

[luveline]

omg would die for a concussion fic with remus <33

—your concussion causes moderate memory loss, and you forget some very important details about your relationship with Remus. fem, 1.3k

“This is nice.” 

You toy with the ring on Remus’ finger, turning it around and around and around. With your weight bearing down on his right arm and your hand secured around his left to stop him from moving, there isn’t much he can do besides say, “Yeah?” 

“I love when guys wear rings.” 

“I had a suspicion.” 

You wince as stars flash through your vision, pausing in your toying to press your face into his chest. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

“I can see black and white spots.” 

“Oh, no,” he says sympathetically. “Close them, dovey. Take a breather.” 

The chair under you is uncomfortable, your back aches, your head twinges, but Remus is comfortable to lean again. He’s wearing one of his big hoodies, old enough to feel like brushed cotton under your cheek and against your nose, decals washed away. He steals his hand back to pat your shoulder, an image of patience. 

“Sorry. This isn’t a good second date.” 

Remus leans down to talk near your ear. “Dove,” he whispers, “this isn’t our second date, remember?” 

“It’s not?” 

“No, sweetheart. But that’s okay.” 

“You’re really handsome so I don’t want to mess it up.” 

“Mess what up, the date?” he asks. “You didn’t mess it up, it went very well. It was a year ago, but.” He smiles, his breath warming your face, his arm hot around you and securing you to his chest.

“A year ago?” 

“Yeah, a year ago. We went to winter wonderland and the bookshop by the train station and you wouldn’t let me buy you any books.” He laughs softly. “But I got you one eventually. A couple by now, at least.” 

“That’s nice.” 

“You’ve bought me a hundred more, it’s awful.” 

You raise your head to squint at him. “I have?”

“So many,” he whispers, dipping his chin down to kiss your nose, to your wide-eyed delight. “But you let me look after you in other ways.” 

“Let you?” 

“Yes, let me. It’s part of…” He cups your cheek quickly. “Sickness and health and everything. I have to keep you happy.” 

“Ah.” His ring is warm on your cheek. “Sickness and health, like we’re married.” 

“Something like that.” 

You straighten up as someone behind you coughs aggressively. A little further down a baby cries against a mother’s chest, and the TV plays a quiz show you’re starting to hate. Moving your head has black haunting the sides of your vision again, the light seeping in from the automatic doors too much to handle. 

“I’ve asked Sirius to bring you some sunglasses.” 

You turn around. “Sirius, that’s the one with the motorbike?” 

“Yeah. He should be quick. But maybe they’ll have called you in again by then and we can go home.” 

That’s right. You’ve been seen once by a doctor for triage, and sent back out again when they deemed you only mildly concussed, no bleeding on the brain, but an X-ray ordered for safety's sake anyways. That’s what you’re waiting for. Remus is waiting with you, because he’s a very nice man. 

“Sorry if I’m ruining your Saturday.” 

Remus’ hair falls from behind his ear as he lifts his head properly. “I think you might be having a worse day than me, so I’ll forgive you. I'm joking!” He tucks that stray strand behind his ear unsuccessfully. “You could never ruin my Saturday. I’d spend the entire bank holiday weekend in here with you, I only want them to look after you so I can finish the job.” 

Heat like a kiss on each cheek. You bring your hand to your nose, overwhelmed. “Really?” 

“We spend a lot of time together, sweetheart. I know you don’t remember right now, but I love you.” 

“You do?” 

“Don’t tell me you can’t feel that.” 

You look at him with the sunshine caressing the side of his face, his three mean scars and his scattered beauty spots. He has thick eyebrows, light brown eyes in the sun like honeyed tea, and a playful smile. More frown lines than smile lines, but the beginnings of crows feet speaks to some joy, at least. You bring your thumb up to a small wrinkle and stroke it, before tucking his hair behind his ear. It’s too short to stay put for long. 

“I love you,” you say surely. You do, even if you can’t remember more than your first date. 

He’s a good kisser, you remember. He’d pulled you back from your door and kissed you like you’d stolen the breath straight from his lungs. 

“I know.” He brings your hand from his ear to kiss. Gentle, he strokes your knuckles, his thumb turning a golden ring where it sits on your marriage finger. 

“It’s really like we’re married, we have matching rings,” you laugh. 

He holds his hand up between you. “We are married, lovely girl.” 

You steal your hand back. He waits without hurry, though a line of concern marks his brow. “Are we? When did we get married?” 

“Only a few days ago, but we’re married. This wasn’t on the honeymoon agenda.” 

He takes your hand with care and shows you the gold ring on your marriage finger to match his own, aligning your hands. The colour hadn’t seemed important a moment ago, nor the placement, but now you’re seeing them you realise you’d made a small misjudgement. It’s not like you’re married at all, you simply are. 

You frown. The way he’s holding your hand feels familiar, though the idea that you’re married is preposterous. You can’t remember any ceremony or reception, a proposal, nothing. There’s simply blank space there, which isn’t very nice. But… 

You’re not scared. You haven’t been worried once all day. 

“You have a concussion,” he says quietly, practised, like he’s said it to you before. “And it’s resulted in some amnesia, but it’s going to get better very soon.” 

“We’re definitely married?” 

“Unless you’ve changed your mind.” 

“I don’t want to change my mind.” You fluster quickly with what you’ve said, looking down at the hospital’s linoleum flooring. 

Remus takes your hand where it lays on your thigh and squeezes it. A thread of memory tugs at the touch; you remember this. His tender concern. His constant support. 

“Then you don’t have to. Whether you remember me or not, I’m here to look after you, okay? I’m right here.” 

You nod without looking up. His hand knows yours no matter what you remember, rubbing at all the best parts, holding with the perfect amount of pressure. 

“You okay?” 

“I guess our second date really did go well.” 

“Better than I could ever explain.” He tugs at your hand until you look at him, his head already ducked to keep you pinned by his gaze. “You’re like my shy girl all over again. I forgot how nervous you used to get.” 

You can see the Remus who became your husband and the one who scared butterflies into action every time he looked at you coalescing. “You’re really good-looking,” you explain. 

“And what do you think you are?” He rubs your hand. “You’re beautiful. Can I have a kiss, dove? Is that okay?” 

You squeeze your eyes closed. You’d been fighting stars in your eyes anyways.

When Remus kisses you, your body responds to his touch like it knows him. Your heart thuds against your ribs, your lips know exactly how to move and when he’s going to turn his head. Love for him shines through it. His love for you makes your chest hurt, his chaste kissing like a straight shot of oxytocin. All your worry saps away. 

“Feel any better?” he asks knowingly.

You remember enough about his teasing to withhold an answer. He kisses your cheek, his smile unmissable on your skin. 

[teamatsumu]

kinktober 2023 -> day 27

hate sex - kuroo tetsuro x reader

word count: 2100

warnings: swearing, nsfw, reader is yaku’s sister, both of them are kinda assholes but not really lol

kinktober masterlist

Kuroo Tetsuro was a very talented individual. Because no one had the capacity to piss you off quite like he did.

You should’ve known the minute you walked into your biochem class that he would become the bane of your existence. You wished you had gotten some sort of warning when you chose your major. A sign. A whisper from the gods. Anything at all to stop you in your tracks. But no, you were here now, and you were stuck seeing him in class every time.

If only that was where it stopped. But then you discovered that he was on the college volleyball team with your brother Morisuke and apparently, they were thick as thieves. The nightmare just kept getting worse.

It’s not even that he was a jerk to you or he bullied you. You just thought he was too cocky and loud and the smirk he supported was stupid. Unfortunately, the moment he found out that you didn't like him, he made it his mission to annoy the crap out of you any chance he got.

He would make jokes about your height, or how uptight you were. He would call you dumb under his breath if you got something wrong in class, or would snicker when the teacher corrected you. He had a taunting lilt to his voice when he talked to you, like his mere words were making fun of you. It was embarrassing, and it stung a bit, but mostly it served to make you angry. Morisuke would always tell you to let it go. That Kuroo was a provocative and inflammatory person by nature, but at this point even his voice annoyed you.

“What kind of pleasure does this bring you?” You gritted out, refusing to look up at his stupid grin.

“It tingles me just right, sweets.” He replied.

“Ugh.” You made a disgusted face, giving him a look that hopefully communicated that.

“You are gross.” You responded, turning back to your book. “Now can you please leave? I have a quiz I need to study for.”

Kuroo hummed, as if contemplating your request. He leaned back in his chair, balancing it precariously on its two back legs. They squeaked in the silence of the library, making your cheek twitch.

“Nope.” He popped the ‘p’, running a hand through his already messy hair. “I’m waiting for Yaku, remember?”

“And he told you to meet him here?” You didn’t look up at him.

“No, I told him to meet me here.”

You glared at him. “To purposely annoy me? Is that it? Why can’t you just stay away from me?”

He scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself, sweets.”

You turn to him completely this time. “Then what is it, Kuroo? Why the hell are you obsessed with me? How pathetic are you?”

Kuroo stared at you incredulously. “Obsessed with you?”

He leaned forward until his face was inches from yours, eyes narrowed in anger. You nearly reeled back but held yourself in place.

“You’ve got some nerve. Thinking everything is about you. You think I give a single fuck about you? You’re just Yaku’s whiny little sister who thinks the world revolves around her. You’re not worth my time, or anyone else’s. Get your head out of the clouds or you’re going to end up taking a fall you won’t survive.”

You stared at him in shock, watching him gather his bag and water bottle before he stood up and hastily left. You stared at his retreating back, and felt anger burn through you as his words registered in your head.

You ignored the hot tears that stung your eyes.

…………………

The knock on your dorm room door startled you, and you stared at it warily. You contemplated whether you should open it or not. Maybe you could stay quiet and pretend no one was home. You weren't really in any mood to talk to people.

“I know you’re in there. The light is on.”

You nearly groaned, eyes squeezing shut. Anger boiled up in you again, and in a moment of impulse, you rushed to the door, opening it with more force than necessary.

“You've got some nerve.” Your voice shook in anger when you met his golden eyes. “Coming here after the shit you said to me today.”

Kuroo sighed, shoulders slumping. “I came to apologize for that.”

You laughed in disbelief. “What part, Kuroo? Me being whiny or me being pathetic?”

He scowled. “I didn't call you pathetic.”

“You’re getting hung up on the semantics now?!” You shrieked, stepping back to slam the door shut. Kuroo shot his foot out, blocking you from doing so.

“Excuse me? I’m not going to apologize for something I didn't even say!” He stepped inside the room, shutting it behind him so your voices didn't carry into the halls. “In fact, I specifically remember you were the one who called me pathetic. Which you still haven’t apologised for, by the way.”

“Oh my god, I hate you!” You screamed, feeling your face get hot because of how angry you were.

“Trust me, the feeling is mutual!” Kuroo screamed back, stepping forward until he was right in your face. You stiffened at how he was towering over you, his chest heaving and breaths coming heavy and quick. His teeth were clenched, making his jaw tick. Your eyes tracked the movement. You watched a small droplet of sweat run down the side of his face.

You stepped forward until your lips met his.

Kuroo jerked back, looking at you with wide eyes, mouth dropped open in shock. You stared at each other for a few moments, completely silent. Then, the dam broke.

Kuroo grabbed the sides of your face, sealing your lips together in a searing kiss. You moaned into his mouth, giving him the opening to slide his tongue over yours. You backed up until your legs hit your bed, falling back and Kuroo following you down, not breaking the kiss. Your limbs tangled together in a flurry, attempting to rip each other’s clothes off as quickly as you could.

“Can you hurry?” You broke the kiss, glaring at him as you tugged his shirt off.

“Can you shut the fuck up?” He bit back, pulling your sweatpants off your legs.

His lips met yours in the next moment, effectively silencing you except the little moans leaving your lips. His bare body felt heavenly against yours, and for the first time you thanked the lords that he was an athlete.

He broke the kiss again, making his way down your body with his lips. He bit at your right breast, making your breath stutter.

“Of course you would like that.” He chuckled.

“Shut the fuck up, Kuroo. Don’t ruin this-” You dissolved into a moan when he licked over your nipple, biting at it slightly before sucking. You sighed at the feeling.

His hand groped at your other breast, hips grinding down. His crotch pressed between your legs, and the pressure made you whine.

“Hurry up.” You pushed at his boxers, trying to tug them down.

“Say please~” Kuroo smirked up at you. You nearly slapped him.

“Over my dead body.”

Kuroo sighed and lifted himself off your body. He slid off you slightly, making to stand up. “Well, in that case-”

“No!” You sat up, biting your lip, staring at him. You groaned. “God, I hate you.”

Kuroo chuckled. You gasped when his fingers brushed over your clothed core, before hooking a finger into your panties and pulling them off you. His fingertips dipped into your slit. Your breath stuttered.

“Kuroo.” You stared at him, his eyes dark and pupils dilated. His lips parted, tongue peaking out just a little to run over them. His fingers continued their feather-light touch.

“Please,” you gave in.

“Please what, baby?” You whined at the nickname, feeling your core pulse. God, his voice was so husky. You stared at his lips, eyes wandering to his shoulders, his pecs, his abs, to the bulge in his underwear that was hinting at how big he probably was.

“Touch me, Tetsuro.” You whispered. “Please. Touch me, fuck me. You want me to shut the fuck up? Make it happen, then.”

He was on you the next moment, teeth digging into your skin and fingers burying themselves deep in your pussy. You yelped and moaned, spreading your legs more so he could hit deeper. His fingers were so long and delicious, reaching your spot and rubbing against it just right. Within seconds, he had you seeing stars.

“You’re such a brat.” Kuroo bit out, fingers picking up speed instantly. You could barely breathe. Your body jolted under his movements. He was being so rough. “A spoiled little princess. Greedy girl. You’re even letting me fuck you just so you can get off.”

You cried at Kuroo’s words. Fuck. Why was this turning you on so much? You clenched around his fingers, and were met with the sight of his infamous smirk, except this time, it was so much hotter than any time you had seen it before. Kuroo looked like he was enjoying the crap out of this.

“Oh, you love this, don’t you?” He goaded you, curling his fingers until your back was arching off the bed. “Such a slut. What, you got a humiliation kink or something?”

“I’m gonna cum.” You choked out, tears swimming in your vision as your toes curled.

You should've known. This was Kuroo Tetsuro you were with. There’s no way he would let you have anything good. You nearly wailed when he pulled his fingers out, soaking wet with your juices.

“Kuroo!” You cried, tears spilling down your cheeks. “Don’t- why?!”

You didn’t even care that he was witnessing you break down over this. You were just about to have what could have been the most intense orgasm of your life and he denied you it.

“You fucking asshole-”

He shushed you, leaning over and shifting slightly. Something hard prodded at your entrance, before sinking into you in one fluid motion. Your mouth dropped open at the feeling, jaw going slack. He was big, long and oh so hard, and he grazed all the right spots as he slid into you.

Kuroo wiped the tears that soaked your cheeks, brushing his nose against yours in a manner that was almost affectionate. You stared up at him, still dizzy from your almost orgasm a few moments ago. His eyes held a glint that told you tonight was going to be brutal in the best way possible.

And you were right. Kuroo fucked you through three orgasms before he even slowed his pace. You were left a blabbering, bumbling mess by the time his hips stuttered and he emptied himself inside you, warm cum washing over your walls, pushing you through one more orgasm as his unrelenting fingers rubbed at your abused, swollen clit. He didn’t care when you whined at him to stop. He was merciless throughout. It was rough and hot and it made you see stars.

You didn’t even register when his body left yours, or when he came back and ran a washcloth over the mess between your legs. You turned on your side, back sore from all the arching. You were still out of breath as he tugged on his clothes, watching him fix his hair. Well, as fixed as his messy hair could get. Aside from the sweat on his face and his slightly heavy breathing, he seemed unfazed. You would think he was out for a run, not rearranging your guts.

You didn’t realize he was staring at you until a few moments later, when he leaned over to brush your hair off your face. His signature smirk spread over his lips.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’re the best sex I’ve ever had too.”

You scowled as he straightened up, making his way to the door. “What the hell do you mean ‘too’?

He didn’t answer, humming happily to himself as he tugged his shoes on.

“You aren’t the best sex I’ve ever had.” You sat up, feeling your face turn red. He gave you a look that was so smug it made you stiffen in embarrassment. You knew he didn’t believe a word you just said. You also knew that Kuroo’s already humongous ego was about to shoot through the fucking roof.

“You’re not.” You mumbled. Kuroo pulled the door open, still supporting the insufferable smirk on his face, giving you a teasing wink.

“You’re not, Kuroo!” You called behind him as the door clicked shut. Sighing, you flopped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling and ruminating on everything that had just happened.

Fuck.

Taglist:

@bxbyyyjocelyn @thisbicc @lazuliquartz @dreamayy @kuroosluthoe @true-form-hoe @akumakitsune21 @cham0mil3-and-h0n3y @samisfunky @universal-s1ut @msbyomimi @dohwaesu @leothesquishy @n0tmykays @tsukiran @reyofsunshinelol @bleach-your-panties @galaneiaeris @leyra-giovanni @erenspersonalwh0re @peachesncats @soapsoftheworld @iwannabecamiloshovel @vintagevict0ria @smithieandy @moonlit-mizukage @snazzyturtles @argwein

A/N: For those whose tags arent working, im sorry! I tried and for some reason, your names wont show up in the mentions :( another way of being notified is to turn on my blog notifs for @teamatsumufics . I only reblog my fics there so it serves almost like being in a taglist!

[pretty-toru]

boyfriend quiz ᰔ gojo satoru

contents: tooth-rotting fluff. fem!reader. established relationship. mentions of sweets. making gojo think every question he answers is wrong on a quiz you made up.

“Baby, let’s take a little couple’s quiz together, hm?” 

Satoru had just stepped into your shared bedroom after a hot shower. The ends of his hair still damp from towel drying and his cheeks just a tickled pink from the steam as he takes long strides toward you, crawling into bed and stealing some of your warmth from under the covers. 

“Hmm, why do I have a bad feeling about this~?” There’s a boyish smile on his face as he holds you close and nuzzles your neck softly, feeling like his head’s up in the clouds the moment he’s wrapped up in your scent. “But alright, I’m game! Let’s go, I’m ready. What’s the first question?”

The white tufts of your boyfriend’s hair delicately grazes your nose and you press a tender kiss to the top of his head. “So, imagine you’re at our favorite bakery, what do you buy?” You start with an innocent question, leading him to believe that there's no right or wrong answers but he suspects there's a trick up your sleeve.

“That’s a fun one! I’m at our favorite bakery, right~?” He ponders carefully for a moment. “Well, of course, I would want those delicious pastries, those yummy cakes, and those fresh breads! And while I’m there, I should grab a few of your favorites too!” 

You almost forget just how incredibly thoughtful and caring Satoru can be. How you’re always on his mind and he spends a lot of time thinking about you no matter his whereabouts. You know this because it usually manifests in forms of gifts and trinkets—some sweet, some odd, some over the top, but they’re all very near and dear to your heart. 

“Wrong.” You shake your head gently, forcing an exasperated sigh that tells him you’re disappointed and upset he managed to get the question wrong. But really, you’re just messing with him, making him think his answers are somehow incorrect in this one-sided game of yours. “You weren’t supposed to be there without me in the first place.”

“What do you mean, Angel~? Why can’t I be at the bakery without you? Even if I’m getting you something, too?” There’s a glimmer of confusion behind his cerulean hues, yet his earnest smile still remains and he’s a bit at loss for words but continues to indulge you. 

“Next question—” Satoru quickly plops an affectionate kiss on your cheek before you continue, hoping to remedy your crestfallen face. “You have now left the bakery, what’s the next thing you do?” 

“Easy. The next thing I do after leaving the bakery is be with my favorite girl, and share all the delicious things I got. I want to be with you, no one else.” 

There he goes being so sweet again! He’s making this extremely hard for you not to openly swoon over him and smother his face with so many kisses, and he can see the way you’re biting the inside of your cheek trying to suppress your smile that he’s getting to you. But you shake your head again, “Wrong! You’re supposed to pick up the strawberries from the market like I had asked you to.”

“Oh my goodness, you’re right! I forgot all about the strawberry you wanted~” Satoru gasps loudly and runs a stressful hand through his hair. He then laughs and playfully rolls his eyes that he somehow answered wrong for the second time now. “Fine, I’ll go pick up the strawberries.” 

You couldn’t help the quick kiss that lands on his cheek for being so utterly cute and adorable as you giggled along with him. “Okay, next question—a girl approaches you and she looks like she wants to hug you. What do you do?” 

“Hm, who is she and why does she look like she wants to hug me?” He tilts his head to the side as he considers the situation. You feel like maybe, just maybe, he’s merely seconds away from getting a curveball thrown at him. Even though you know kind of partner he is, you’re quite curious as to what he’ll come up with. 

“Well, what do you do~?” You gently urge him for an answer. 

“It really depends, Angel. Are you the girl then?” His lips curl into a smirk, and he looks at you almost too knowingly like he could read your mind. But you know that even his Six Eyes can't do that. 

You hate that he was able to figure it out so easily. He watches as your face lights up into your perfect and gorgeous smile, with your head falling onto his chest and face burrowing in defeat. All of his answers were simply too sweet and considerate with you in mind and you can feel your heart swell with so much love and adoration for him.

Your muffled words come up to reach his ears, “How’d you know to answer that I was there with you? You’re too smart for this. But yes, the girl is supposed to be me.” 

“So you approached me, and you wanted to hug me, right~?” He strokes your hair softly and offers an amused chuckle. You slowly lift yourself off him to meet his soft gaze, nodding. “If you want a hug, you always get a hug, sweetheart.” 

Satoru doesn’t need to be told twice to have his strong arms coil around your figure, locking you sweetly in his hold that makes you feel completely safe and secure in his warm embrace. Then, a lingering kiss to your forehead just before he releases you but you can feel the faintest waver in his loosening grip that he never wants to let you go.

“Okay, one last question?” Your weight dips on the mattress beside him, tucking yourself in the nook of his arm and resting your head on his chest. He hums contently when your body always seems to fit so perfectly with his as he brings you closer to him like he can’t get close enough. ”What are we doing next?”

“Well, we could go home, eat the baked goods and the strawberries. After that, maybe snuggle while watching a movie and take a long nap together. How’s that sound to you, baby?”

You briefly mull over his words, and you can’t remember the last time he truly took some time off and enjoyed himself without restraints. So you’re determined to plan a fun and romantic getaway because even your loving and goofy boyfriend deserves a much-needed break to experience the small joys and pleasures with you every now and again.

“That sounds like our perfect next date.”

[cl6teen]

GQ COUPLES QUIZ ⍟ CL16

a GQ interview featuring the paddock’s favourite couple

mature/crude language and jokes, fluff, sexual/suggestive innuendos but not a lot, inaccurate tellings of the 2023 season, a lot of questions/inspo taken from the actual couples quizzes on GQ’s yt (rosalia and rauw) reblogs/interactions always appreciated !!

cl6teen 2023. do not copy/repost any of my works/ideas pls!

charles: i’m camera shy so maybe you should start!

y/n: you’re literally the least camera shy person i know, charles.

he laughs and readjusts himself in the wooden chair, placing his hands on the armrests to get comfortable just before speaking.

y/n: get on with it.

charles: hello, i’m charles leclerc, a driver for the scuderia ferrari formula one team.

y/n: and i’m y/n l/n, a model and partial social media influencer.

charles: and today we are here with GQ to do the couples quiz!

you smile, holding the stack of cards in your hands up to the camera.

y/n: i’m going to be asking charles some questions about myself and our relationship, so let’s see if he’s really the paddock’s boyfriend of the season.

charles: i am.

his face is stoic when he meets your eyes, leaving your mouth to tremble in a futile attempt to bite back a giggle. his silence doesn’t last long, laughing at the sight of you doubling over in your seat.

y/n: you’re so serious!

y/n: okay! first question of the day, cha: what is my favourite colour?

charles: come on, this is easy! it’s (fav colour), you’re wearing it now

y/n: correct! you actually bought this for me at the start of the year.

cockily, his eyes pan to the camera and he quick a quick shrug as if to say, ‘no big deal about it’, but you don’t catch it.

y/n: what is my go-to karaoke song?

charles: oh, fuck.

you laugh at the way his eyes widen, mocking his words with a deep tone.

y/n: oh. charles leclerc you should know this.

charles: nono i do, i do mate! give me a moment.

the camera zooms into his face, placing calculations across the screen as he’s searches around in his head for the answer—you just went on a karaoke date some nights before; it was in there somewhere.

charles: ah! voulez-vous by ABBA.

y/n: i should dock you half a point for taking so long, but i’m feeling generous today so i won’t.

y/n: what has been my favourite grand prix of the season so far?

charles: baku, because i won no?

y/n: australia actually—lewis’ win.

he cocks his head at you with a raised brow as if to ask if you were serious, and you rush to cover your smile with the stack of quiz cards.

y/n: i’m joking, of course it was baku!

you briefly reach for his hand.

y/n: my love’s first of many wins of the season.

charles: it’s my turn for a question now, yes?

y/n: no charles, i’m asking you questions right now! you go after i’m done.

charles: then why is it called the couples quiz, GQ! should be called the y/n quiz.

y/n: do you see how whiny he is? wait your turn.

jabbing your manicured thumb towards the monegasque, you shake your head at the camera.

y/n: next question, what is my hidden talent?

charles: but it’s hidden for a reason right? we cannot say it.

you both laugh at his words.

y/n: a hidden talent that only you know of.

charles: well then i definitely can’t say it out loud, i’d get in trouble.

he smirks boyishly, leaving you to gasp and reach over to smack his shoulder.

y/n: say something else! one that can be said.

charles: ermm, you can memorize any recipe you make once.

y/n: that’s normal though.

charles: no it’s not! it’s very weird how you know the exact measurements of everything without having to check. carlos agrees too!

you shrug and give him the point.

y/n: how did we meet?

you turn to the camera and cover your lips from his view before mouthing, ‘he better know this one’.

charles: we met at the monaco grand prix after party in 2021—lewis introduced us and you were too drunk to remember my name.

charles: you didn’t think i forgot, did you?

y/n: i was hoping you forgot the drunk part.

he laughs at the small pout drawing on your face.

y/n: when and where was our first kiss?

charles: monza, 2021—i have it on this bracelet.

he holds up his wrist to show the camera. right above his forza ferrari bracelet is one that has the aforementioned date engraved on it.

y/n: isn’t he so romantic?

y/n: what’s the first thing i eat after waking up—don’t make a joke.

charles: i wasn’t going to make a joke.

dramatically, you roll your eyes at him — the smile on his face says otherwise.

charles: you have yogurt so you have something to snack on while making your actual breakfast.

charles: i’m an observant man.

y/n: my favourite thing about you. so, what have i always wanted to learn?

charles: like sports? or music?

y/n: hmm…let’s do both for two points.

charles: okay…you’ve always wanted to learn piano.

you nod your head as he counts his fingers.

y/n: correct.

charles: and…you want to learn how to play tennis

y/n: wrong! i know how to play tennis charles. i want to learn how to ski.

charles: but you never come with me on my ski trips!

y/n: you always go when i’m working babe.

he gives an apologetic look, which you return with a small smile.

y/n: this one is a bit difficult, but what is my signature scent?

charles: ah…is it one of the margiela?

y/n: i like some of the scents…but no, it is (fav perfume).

rolling his eyes, he takes your wrist to his nose to get a smell.

charles: ah! you do smell good, though.

y/n: merci, mon amour. what are the three main things that i cannot leave my house without?

charles: three things you can’t leave without?

charles: me, of course.

y/n: that’s true! but apart from you.

charles: your lipgloss, your phone, and a pair of flats. you don’t even need to tell me if i’m right, open her bag and check!

[OFF CAMERA]: he’s right.

charles: bring-bring it here!

a hand emerges past the camera to hand charles the vintage chanel bag. with a shit eating grin on his face he opens the bag towards the camera to reveal the three items listed.

charles: where are the rest of your things, my love!

he laughs at the way you snatch your bag from him.

y/n: first of all, lipgloss is meant to be retouched, and heels aren’t always comfortable.

y/n: plus, when’s i’m with him i never need anything else do i?

charles: what’s your next question?

y/n: what is my night time skin care routine?

charles: ehm…can i get the next next question?

you burst out into laughter, doubling over as you try to collect yourself.

y/n: he didn’t even try!

charles: do you know my skin care routine?

y/n: i gave you your skin care routine!

charles: it’s too complicated to remember. please, next question.

y/n: what is my—who approved these questions?

[OFF CAMERA]: our boss, please continue.

y/n: charles, what is my bra size?

charles: easy, (bra size).

silently, you stare at him in slight confusion that he paid attention to such little detail.

y/n: what is the best way to make me laugh?

charles: hearing my laugh!

y/n: that is true! specifically the one where you kind of sound like a duck.

[OFF CAMERA]: alright charles, you’ve scored eleven points.

charles: that’s a good score, no? think you can beat it?

y/n: of course!

charles inconspicuously reaches for his stack placed on the console inbetween your chairs. there’s a cute smile on his face as he shuffles through his cards.

charles: what was my first f1 win?

y/n: spa, 2019. how could i not know!

charles: that’s true! where do i want us to next travel?

y/n: you didn’t tell me this though! charles always does this thing where he surprises me with our vacation destination.

charles: ah, you’re right.

he goes to shuffle the card to the back, but you’re quick to stop him.

y/n: i can guess, but if i get it correct i get two points. is that allowed?

the both of you pause to look past the camera for a go ahead, which is given by a swift thumbs up from the crew.

y/n: i actually don’t know if you want to go here, but i do. morocco?

charles: correct.

y/n: alright guys, look out for morocco baecation photo dumps on my instagram within the next few months!

charles: next question, if i wasn’t an f1 driver, what would i be?

y/n: a tennis player? i would say a footballer but after that charity match…

charles laughs loudly at the mention of his game and the memory of his dive head first into the pitch ground.

charles: tennis player is one of them, so i’ll give the point out of the kindness of my heart.

charles: so, how many kids do i want?

y/n: you want three, but don’t mind two if i can’t handle the stress of a third child. you don’t mind the genders, but it would be nice to have a least one boy and girl in any order.

charles: you have a great memory, my love.

charles: how can you tell that i’m angry?

y/n: oh my god, it’s always written all over your face cha. you get all like this and your bros furrow so much.

you try your hand at imitating it, clenching you jaw and giving your most menacing look to the camera before showing it to charles.

charles: hey you’re pretty good at it!

y/n: i think it’s quite attractive though, i love when the cameras catch it during the grand prix.

he winks at you.

charles: what is my favourite way to spend time with you?

y/n: sex? am i allowed to say that? can you cut this part out?

charles: who has the corrupted mind now! the answer was cooking together!

you make a helpless face at your boyfriend, almost feeling embarrassed that your words are going to be stuck on youtube for all to see.

y/n: whatever.

charles: what is my favourite animal?

y/n: ah…monkeys?

charles: monkeys? monkeys!?

he leans in closer to your seat in disbelief and slight fear.

y/n: wait wait wait!

charles: i’m afraid of monkeys!

y/n: but the little baby ones are so adorable!

charles: no, absolutely not. no point for you, y/n.

he dramatically crosses his forearms to each other to make a large x at your face.

charles: what is my sign?

y/n: libra, next question.

charles: wait—i don’t even know my sign!

y/n: i was the one who told you it!! it was one of our first dates and you asked me about your birth chart!

charles raises a shocked brow towards the camera.

charles: what is my favourite colour on you?

y/n: red on race day, and then sage green or white normally.

charles: it’s lovely seeing your girlfriend in your colour, no?

charles: what is the most annoying thing that comes alongside living with you?

y/n: absolutely nothing.

charles: is that your final answer?

y/n: would it be anything else…?

you both sit and stare at one another in silence.

charles: i don’t like how majority of our bed is taken up by stuffed animals.

you groan loudly at him, reaching over to swat his thigh.

charles: ow! okay, i’ll ask you one more question for redemption. what would be my ideal retirement plan?

y/n: obviously we’ll be married and hopefully with kids. you wouldn’t mind staying in monaco but you’d also like to try living in italy—but in the countryside on a large plot of land.

charles: are you sure that’s not your retirement plan?

y/n: charles leclerc.

charles: okay okay, you’re correct!

y/n: i’m pretty sure i just moped your ass in this quiz

[OFF CAMERA]: actually y/n, you only scored nine points.

charles claps obnoxiously with a wide smile on his face, to which you flip him off and brush him aside.

charles: hah! i guess that settles it!

y/n: whatever, i have you beat in lots of other things.

charles: not this though—but i believe our time is up!

turning to face the camera, you both give a curt wave.

both: thanks for watching our GQ couples quiz!

…

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[mydemimonde]

'Cherry Bomb' | Michael Gavey x Reader (Part 2)

a/n: part 2 of cherry bomb is here! i want to thank you again for the likes, comments and reblogs on the first part, it really means a lot and i'm glad you liked it ♡ there will be a third part, lmk if you'd like to be tagged. enjoy!

Summary: After thanking Michael for what he did for you, you can't stop thinking about how much you desire him, how much you want him. And you always get what you want.

Words: 4000ish

Warnings: +18 (minors do not interact!), female reader, no use of y/n, not specific physical description, reader being an absolute menace!, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, handjob, lots of dirty talk, masturbation (f and m), teasing/sex in public, cum eating

And touch yourself indeed you do.

As soon as you return to your dorm you immediately lie back on your bed, hike up your skirt and pull your lace panties aside. You hiss when your fingertips graze your wet folds, sucking Michael Gavey’s dick having this effect on you.

Seeing Michael Gavey squirm under your touch and hearing him whimper and moan has this effect on you.

You rub your swollen clit with your index and middle finger, feeling your entire body on fire. You lazily lower your hand until you feel your cunt practically sucking your fingers in, your arousal making it easier for you to start pumping them in and out of you as whines and soft moans escape your lips.

Your chest heaves with your breathing, you close your eyes as you remember the feeling of Michael’s lips moving against yours, his tongue exploring your mouth frantically, his gaze on you as you lowered your body to kneel in front of him, how beautiful he sounded when your mouth wrapped around his cock, how heavy it felt in your mouth. You can’t wait until having him like that again.

You play with your tits with your other hand, feeling your nipples harden when you pinch them. You never stop thinking about Michael and his large, veiny hands. You picture him caressing your body, squeezing your breasts and maybe even choking you. His long, slender fingers inside your cunt, reaching that spot inside you that makes you see stars.

The room is filled with the wet, lewd sounds of your cunt and your curses and breathy moans. Your walls clench around your fingers, your orgasm approaching as you pump them faster, curling them to reach the most sensitive spot inside you. The heel of your palm presses against your swollen clit repeatedly, making you gasp. You reach your peak with a muffled moan, careful not to be heard.

With your eyes closed you try to catch your breath, wave after wave of pleasure running through your body. You slide your fingers out of your pussy and lick them, tasting your own arousal.

You don’t know what Michael did to you, but you want him. And you always get what you want.

The next day you don’t see Michael until lunch time. He’s sitting alone, like he always does. You sit on the chair in front of him, hoping to be noticed but he doesn’t even lift his head, too focused on finishing his salad.

You clear your throat and with a honeyed voice you say his name. “Hi there, Michael.”

You see how his eyes widen for a moment before swallowing his food hard. “H-hi.” He grabs a napkin and wipes his mouth. “I didn’t see you there, sorry.”

“It’s okay baby” the pet name you give him makes him feel goosebumps. You have your legs crossed under the table, your foot drawing circles in the air. “Are you busy today?”

“Uhm yeah I… I have to study. Have a maths quiz tomorrow” he replies as he finishes his salad and wipes his mouth again.

“Oh, but you don’t need to study, Mikey” you lean in and place one hand on top of his. His hands are significantly bigger than yours, and that awakens something inside you. “You’re so smart.” You uncross your legs and with the help of your left foot, you take your right shoe off.

Michael’s eyes widen when he feels your bare foot creeping up his leg, making its way up. “You should relax a little bit, Mikey. Loosen up, have fun.” You tilt your head as you keep moving your foot, thankful for the long tablecloth. “I have a few ideas, you know?”

He gasps when your foot presses against his crotch. “Fuck” he curses under his breath, fists clenching  as he tries to compose himself. He gives you a deadly look, jaw clenched and brows furrowed. This only adds to your desire for him.

You decide to have some mercy for the poor guy, so you lower your foot and start eating your meal as if nothing happened. Michael lets out a barely audible sigh, shifting in his seat as he tries to hide his obvious erection under the tablecloth. This can’t be fucking happening.

You try to hide a smile, eating your delicious pasta with bechamel sauce while wicked ideas cross your mind.

You eat the last forkful of pasta, letting some sauce drip down the corner of your mouth. “Mmm, delicious” your soft moan catches Michael’s attention, sucking in his breath as you wipe your mouth, looking at him.

He shakes his head and stands up quickly, abandoning the hall. You chuckle and take a sip of water, already planning your next encounter with him.

Michael slams the door of his dorm and quickly gets rid of his pants, cursing when he sees the wet patch near the tip. He rests his head against the door, closing his eyes as he pumps his cock through his boxers.

“F-fuck…” he’s so painfully hard, he can explode at any moment if he doesn’t take care of it soon. His mind travels to the day before, when you were kneeling between his legs with his cock in your mouth. That night, a few hours after you left, he jerked off to the thought of you, again.

He’s done that a couple of times, he has to admit. Ever since the day he saw you for the first time, how sweetly you talked to him and how nice his name sounded from your lips. He should be ashamed of behaving like a horny teenager, but fuck it. The way you looked at him, how you talked to him, straight out of his dreams.

You’re fucking dangerous to him; he knows it, and you know it too.

He takes off his boxers, spits in his hand and immediately wraps it around his cock, whining at the contact. He wishes it’s your mouth though, warm, wet and welcoming. He wonders if that’s how your cunt would feel too, maybe tighter.

His hand works up and down, wet sounds filling the room as he remembers how wet you were from just sucking his cock, how you touched yourself while your mouth was on him. He’s not going to last long, not when he’s thinking about your moans and whimpers.

He speeds up the movement of his hand, chest heaving and gritted teeth, closer and closer to his orgasm.

He even wonders if you touched yourself like you said you would, picturing you pleasuring yourself while thinking of him is what makes him explode. He hisses out your name as he comes, hot ropes of spend coating his lower stomach, cock twitching in his palm.

Michael takes a few moments to catch his breath, looking at the mess he made. When he finally softens, he goes to the toilet and cleans himself, grabbing a new pair of clean boxers to put on. After all, he has one more lecture to end the day. Hopefully, that would keep him busy.

He can’t let anything distract him from his studies, especially not you.

With your books in hand, you enter the library. It’s almost noon, so it’s not too crowded, most of the students in their rooms, most likely.

You’re there to look for Michael, of course, also to study but mostly for Michael. The way he looked at you earlier, that menacing look on his face did nothing but turn you on. You want to unleash the beast that he probably is, you’re not stopping until Michael Gavey is in your bed.

You spot him reading and making some notes on an empty desk at the end of the library, so you take a seat on the other side of the desk.

He notices you immediately, the smell of your perfume invading his nostrils. You see him swallow hard, nodding at you when you say hi.

You open your books and start reading, actually focusing on the written words despite having Michael near you. Plus, you teased him enough earlier, poor chap had to run to his dorm to jerk off, because of course he did.

After teasing him during lunch you felt somewhat… terrible. A tiny voice in your head is constantly bothering you, telling you that what you are doing is wrong. Michael’s not like the guys you typically date or have sex with, and not only because he’s a virgin.

Everyone says Michael Gavey is an insufferable, full of himself and creepy guy, and even though you don’t know him 100%, you wouldn’t say that it's true. He can be complicated at times, but that doesn’t make him a totally awful person. He’s rather sweet when he wants to, adorable too.

You don’t want him to feel used, even though you’re not doing that. You’re just acting on your desires, and you know he craves you as well. He’s just playing hard to get. And that’s what makes him different from the rest, that’s why you want him.

Almost two hours pass by, and the library is empty except for the two of you. You look around, just in case, and close your book with a loud noise. He doesn’t even flinch, too absorbed in his reading as you make your way towards him.

“Hello Mike” he looks up from his book and takes in your appearance. He audibly gasps at the sight of you in your black skirt and black knee high socks, lips curved into a smile. He leans back in his chair when you hop on the desk in front of him, looking up at you like a deer in headlights. “How did the study session go?” You ask as you rest the palm of your hands on the surface of the table, supporting your weight as you lean back and tilt your head.

Michael presses his lips and blinks. “It went well. I’m more than ready for the quiz.”

“I knew it. I told you before, Michael, you’re really smart. I like smart guys” you lean forward again, speaking in a low and feathery voice.

You hear him gulp. “Oh, uhm, I actually have to go, so” he tries to stand up but you press your foot against his chest, forcing him to sit down. He looks at you with a dumbfounded expression.

You frown. “What are you constantly running away from me, Mike? You don’t want my company?” you stretch your leg, pushing him as he shakes his head.

“N-no, it’s just…” he licks his lips, trying to find the correct words. “You’re dangerous to me. You tempt me so much” he admits with a sigh. You smile.

“Well, baby, sometimes we just have to surrender to our desires… as I’m doing with you. I told you, Michael. You have no idea how much I want you…” your eyes never leave his face, watching as his pupils darken with lust. His eyes follow the movement of your hands, caressing your thighs as you open your legs.

“Yesterday, after you tutored me, I returned to my dorm and I touched myself, Mikey…” his eyes widen and he yelps. “I told you I would finger myself until I came, and that’s what I did, baby… I pleasured myself thinking about you… I was so wet and tight” you bite your lip as your hand creeps up your inner thigh, Michael’s breath catching in his lungs. “I’m wet right now, Michael. Would you like to see how wet you make me? Would you like to feel how tight I am?”

Michael can only nod eagerly, mouth watering at the thought of touching your pussy, his already hard cock straining against his cargo pants. When you get his confirmation, you open your legs even more, but he stops you. “Wait. We cannot… I mean, we’re in the library” he whispers, looking at you like you were a mad woman.

You giggle. “Relax, baby. We are the only ones here. No one ever comes here at this hour, right? And we’re at the very end of the library… if someone enters, we’ll hear footsteps and we’ll know.” You reassure him with a warm smile, and he can’t reject you.

“O- okay… but I… I don’t know how to…”

“Shh, I told you I would teach you, remember? And I’m sure you’ll learn really fast. Now come closer, get on your knees.” Michael quickly obeys your orders, and gets on his knees before you, face right in front of your clothed pussy. “Good boy.” You hike up your skirt, giving him a sight of your cotton pink thong.

“Shit…” he mutters when he sees the wet spot, your arousal evident.

“I know… and it’s because of you.” He lets out a soft whine, afraid that your words alone could make him cum in his pants. “Now, take off my underwear.” His hands shake when he does so, clearly nervous and excited to touch you properly. He examines your dripping pussy with his jaw dropped. You move your legs up, feet pressed against the surface of the desk, completely exposed to him.

“Fuck, you’re dripping… what should I do?” he asks with genuine intrigue, eager to learn.

"Give me your hand" you lean in to grab his hand and guide it towards your cunt, his fingers tracing your clit. “Touch me there. It’s my clit”

He marvels at how you gasp when he touches you, his fingers drawing gentle circles over your bud. “Is this okay?” When you nod he continues touching you with his index finger, paying attention to your reaction.

“You start slowly, then you can add a bit more pressure and go faster… fuck, right there…” you breath, small whimpers leaving your lips. He continues touching you adding more pressure when your whimpers turn into moans. “Oh, shit, yes Michael” you throw your head back, his touches setting your whole body on fire. “Please, put your fingers in me” you plead and he nods again, following your instructions.

“Holy fuck you’re so wet and tight” he moans when he pushes two of them inside your slickness, watching how they disappear in your cunt, coated in your arousal.

“Hmm, your fingers are so good Michael. Move them please, curl them a little b- fffuck, just like that” you gasp when you feel his long, slender fingers find your sensitive spot with ease. “Touch my clit with your thumb… yes, yes, like that” Michael’s a quick study, you realised. He’s driving you closer and closer to your orgasm. “Fuck, you’re so good at this, you’re gonna make me cum.”

Michael smirks proudly, looking at your face contorted in pleasure. He can feel how you get tighter around his fingers, his cock twitching at the feeling.

“I wanna taste you… please, let me taste you” he begs. “Want you to cum in my mouth.”

If that isn't the hottest thing you’ve heard him say. You bite your lip and nod. “How can I say no to that?” You let your legs hang off the desk and proceed to instruct him on what to do next. “You can kiss me there, then you can lick all the way up to my clit, and then- oh!” you throw your head back as Michael’s tongue flattens against your entrance, licking you gently as his hands hold your thighs apart. You watch with mouth open as he devours your cunt, his nose rubbing at your bud repeatedly as he tongue-fucks you. His gaze is focused on you, you bring a hand to his head, pulling him closer as you chase your orgasm. “Yes, yes, Michael don’t stop!”

A moan from his lips sends vibrations to your cunt and you come with a loud cry of his name, the obscene slurping sounds he makes adding to the sensation.

Michael doesn’t let a drop go to waste, licking all your juices eagerly. He moans at your taste. “Fuck, that was so fucking hot, you taste so good.”

You look at him though hooded eyes, his chin shining with your arousal and his glasses all fogged up. He stands up from the floor, and wipes his mouth and chin with his hand. “Gods, Michael… that was amazing…”

“Really?”

“Yes, you learned very quickly” you chuckle and jump off the table, leaning in to kiss him. You can taste yourself in his mouth. You pull back to caress his cheek and he leans into your touch, your heart melting. What’s happening to you?

He hands you your underwear, which you put on quickly. He stays there, rubbing his hands together.

“Uhm… can we do this again? I-I really liked this…”

You grin. “We can definitely do this again… but not here. You can come to my place” you ask as you fix your skirt and stockings.

Again, his eyes widen. “Now?”

“Not necessarily, baby. Let’s take it slow, yeah? But if you want, I can help you with this…” you point at the evident bulge in his pants. He immediately blushes and chuckles, shaking his head.

“Oh, uhm… sorry about that.” He apologises as he tries to cover it, but you stop him by grabbing his wrist.

“Don’t feel ashamed, Mikey. It’s flattering, knowing that I get you this hard.” You look at him into his eyes, you can hear his heavy breathing and notice his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Do I make you this nervous?”

“I told you… you’re dangerous to me.” he breathes and raises an eyebrow. “And you’re also a fucking tease, did you know that?”

You gasp and point at yourself with your finger, feigning innocence. “Me? How am I a tease?” you ask, reaching for his belt with your hands, your eyes fixed on his.

“You know exactly what you’re doing… today during lunch, for example.” He explains, his eyelids heavy as your hands neatly undo his pants, letting them fall with a clicky sound, the metal of the belt hitting the wooden floor.

“What did I do during lunch? I can’t recall” you tease him as your fingertips trace the line of his hard cock through his boxers, biting your lip when you feel a wet spot there.

“You were teasing me, touching my leg and all under the table” Michael’s voice is low and raspy, stirring something inside you.

“Did I? I truly don’t remember doing that” he curses when your hand slides under his boxers, wrapping around his shaft.

“I- I was so hard I had to run and…”

“And?” You know exactly what he’s trying to say, but you want to hear it from his lips. When you don’t get an answer, you stop your movements.

“Fuck, I ran to my dorm and had a wank” He hisses with eyes closed and you continue your ministrations, your thumb stimulating his weeping tip.

“Oh, really? You jerked off thinking about me?” You lean in and start kissing his neck, leaving kisses along his clenched jaw.

“Y-yes. Not the first time” he throws his head back, leaving you more space to kiss and lick.

“No? How many times did you do it?”

“M-many times… since the very first d-day I saw you… shit” he bucks his hips trying to get more friction, but you keep going at your own speed, enjoying how putty he was in your hands.

“Hmm, so you fuck your hand thinking about me, and what do you picture? Tell me” you whisper in his ear, feeling his chest pressing against your tits.

“Oh, fuck… I think about you… your mouth around my cock… your hands all over me” you can already feel him twitching in your hand, a small drop of sweat trickling down the side of his forehead. “I’m not gonna last long, please.” Michael sobs, eyes shut as you continue moving your hand up and down, slowly, torturing him. “Please, I need you to go faster”.

“I won’t go faster until you tell me exactly what you think about when you pleasure yourself, Michael” you demand, making him shiver.

He clenches his jaw, his chest heaving as he tries to speak. “I imagine how your cunt would feel around my cock… I imagine myself fucking you, your moans and whimpers… fuck, fuck, don’t stop I’m s-so close” he begs, unable to hold it any longer. Happy with his answer, you start moving your hand faster.

“Come on, Michael. Cum for me, baby, let go” you watch as he comes with a soft whine followed by a moan of your name, his brows furrowed and cheeks flushed as his orgasm washes over him. Seeing him like that is so hot.

When he finally comes down from his high he opens his eyes, finding your hungry gaze. He looks down and sees his now cum stained boxers. “Fuck” he whispers at the sight of the mess he made in your hand as well, and curses again when you lick your hand.

Then, you lean in and kiss his cheek. “Good job, baby. You did so well for me” you purr, his heart pounding when you praise him. “I should get going. Remember, you’re more than welcome to enter my dorm. I’ll be waiting” you wink at him and gather your stuff, holding your books under your arm, heading off to your dorm.

Michael watches you leave, still not believing what just happened. He puts his cargo pants back and takes his books, putting them inside his bag. He thinks about the cold shower he would have to take as soon as he steps foot into his room.

taglist: @chaotic-fangirl-blog @uh-shyva @coriolanussnowswife @imawhorecrux @yazmunson @ginger-haired-queen @pebblesghost @echos-muses @bellaisasleep

@babysouloperatorsludge

(italics means i couldn't tag)

[biblio-smia]

so bitter!

masterlist | requests are open!

pairing: clapton davis x reader

warnings: nsfw content!!!

there should be a law against wearing tank tops in school. actually, there was - just one that only applied to girls.

which meant that clapton davis could walk around with his arms looking like that.

you were staring from two cafeteria tables away, eyes unable to stay off clapton for longer than a few seconds. your self-control was being tested, this torture a punishment from the universe.

you really should've never let him fuck you.

you don't realize your name is being called until your friend is snapping her fingers in your face, forcing your eyes to snap back to her (though you keep the distant outline of clapton, just to the left of her head, in your peripheral).

"huh?" you ask, willing your eyes not to flicker back - there was still a chance for you to dig yourself out of this without any of your friends ever knowing.

"nevermind," your friend sighs, rolling her eyes before giving you a look that you avoid by picking at the food on your tray. "who were you staring at?" she turns around, searching the cafeteria for a mere hint of the person who had captivated your attention.

"i wasn't staring at anyone," you lie smoothly, shoving a spoonful of whatever's on your tray to mask any strange inflections of your voice. "i just spaced out."

"you've been doing that a lot lately," your friend says, clearly not convinced.

you roll your eyes in response, grateful when your other friend finally escapes the lunch line and rejoins your group, the topic quickly switching over to an upcoming calc quiz.

though talking about calc makes you think of the time clapton made a very impressive 14% on his test, presenting the paper to you with a grin that should've indicated something at least higher than a C.

"seriously, our class average would be, like, 20% higher if it weren't for you," you cross your arms with a small huff, warm breath making a small cloud in the cold air. clapton skates slowly beside you, weaving around without even having to look at the road under or in front of him - no, his eyes won't leave you.

clapton just grins again. he loves seeing you get worked up about the things he does, the concern you have for him presenting itself in indirect ways that make clapton's heart ache for more.

he's beginning to guide his skateboard to the right, in the opposite direction you'll be going, ready to wave goodbye, when you stop.

"what are you doing?" clapton doesn't think your crossed arms are just to protect yourself against the cold.

"going... home?" clapton sounds confused, but his heart is starting to pick up at the increasing possibility of an alternative suggestion.

"to do what? not study, i'm sure. you just don't learn your lesson, clapton."

clapton holds his bottom lip tightly between his teeth, though it's not enough to contain his smile. "maybe i need a better teacher?"

your eyes roll but your lips smile. you turn your back to clapton, starting off in the direction of your house, smiling as you hear the sound of wheels rolling against the road following behind you.

you get about ten minutes of studying done before you're in clapton's lap, one of his hands under your shirt and the other creating a nasty crease at the bottom of his forgotten calc test as clapton holds on tightly to the edge of your desk for balance.

where did that test go? you remember clapton's hand slipping, knocking a few things on your desk over as he steadied you, removing his hold on you to take off the shirt he had been wearing-

you cross your legs, heat in your face as you will those memories away. there's a heat on your back as your body remembers how clapton had touched you that night. you check your friends carefully, watching them engage in an intense conversation about whether or not they could've pulled stu macher, before allowing your eyes to glance around the cafeteria casually, hoping to catch at least one more glimpse of clapton while avoiding getting caught.

your eyes pass over his spot once, twice, before the fact that he is gone settles in. an alarm in your head goes off - clapton from a distance is safe, but on the move, location unknown? clapton is unpredictable.

you're busy scanning the cafeteria for that obnoxious teal shirt, too focused on making sure clapton davis is a safe distance away to notice your friends go quiet, looking over at the boy who'd taken a seat beside you.

"hey," that stupidly smooth voice says and your eyes calmly shift to land on clapton. you're careful not to visibly react - you can hear your friends already. "you and clapton?" you could see the looks they'd give you, purely out of concern. because really, when has clapton davis ever been serious about anything? you weren't sure that'd suddenly change for you.

it's too quiet, clapton's head moving curiously closer, more of his face coming into your line of sight. your eyes betray you, landing on his flexed arm that rests on the cafeteria table and you're up, rolling your eyes and huffing as you usually do at clapton - though this time he feels it more personally, mouth slightly agape as he watches you walk away. usually he does something to deserve this, winding you up on purpose more often than not. but clapton is feeling as clueless as he feels in chemistry, left dumbfounded by your avoidance of him. had he done something?

guilt eats you up immediately, merciless as it twists your stomach into knots. you sit in the bathroom, on a closed toilet seat, loud chattering all around you as you stare at your IMs with clapton.

your fingers type and delete, type and delete. god, whatever. the bell rings and you bite down that sick feeling, deciding you'll apologize to clapton when you inevitably see him in the hall.

of course, you chicken out. you can't even look at clapton, much less talk to him, a voice in the back of your head convincing you you'll slam him against the lockers and make out with him right there, in front of everyone. it was probably telling you the truth, anyway, your desire to get your hands on clapton outweighing any rational thoughts that included public decency. god, what was wrong with you?

so you avoid clapton in the halls. and in class. and walking out of class. and walking out of school. you're almost running home, knowing clapton could easily catch up and confront you right there. there was really no telling what you were capable of with him in that stupid fucking shirt.

though you still feel sorry. you conjure up images of what clapton could've looked like as you blatantly ignored him and in each one, he looks heartbroken.

well, it wasn't like you were dating.

though maybe a small part of you wished you were.

clapton continues to bother you as the sun sets and the moon takes its place. he won't let you concentrate on the essay due next monday or on the chemistry lab you had to write a reflection on. everything reminds you of him, from the neon green bracelet of his he's left on your desk to the book he'd flipped through while sitting in the chair you're currently occupying, feet propped up on your desk as if your space was also his. and it was, in a way. even your bed has been tainted permanently with bits of clapton, no amount of laundry able to rid your sheets of clapton davis's signature scent. there's small marks in the wood of your headboard, too, just to make sure you wouldn't be able to trick yourself into forgetting clapton had ever been in your room (and on top of you).

you give up on work, brushing your teeth and saying goodnight to your parents unusually early, hoping you'll fall asleep quickly and forget all about clapton. but something won't let you sleep and the lack of distractions only makes you think of clapton even more.

you'd really like to pull your hair out. angrily, you reach for your phone, hit on clapton's stupid picture, start punching the small buttons on your phone repeatedly until a message sends before you can even deliberate.

come over. - 11:39 p.m

read. almost instantly. no response. you're not sure if this means clapton will be here in a few minutes or not, though you're not really sure you can blame him if he ignores you like you had ignored him.

but then your phone buzzes and a new message alert has appeared.

outside - 11:43 p.m

you hear footsteps outside and you instinctively shove your phone under your pillow, turning over and pretending to be asleep as the door of your room creaks open, only for a moment, closing again when your parent is satisfied with what they see.

you wait until the footsteps recede, envisioning the route from your room to your parents', quietly counting the seconds until you're sure it's safe.

shit prnts r still awake - 11:45 p.m wait? - 11:45 p.m

sure - 11:45 p.m

the thought of clapton only a few feet away, separated only by a wall and a window, excites you, heart racing as you wait 5 minutes, 10, calculating how long it'd realistically take your parents to fully fall asleep. you're trying to be patient but you really can't wait another minute and you can't imagine how clapton has managed it.

ok - 12:02 a.m

you don't even wait for clapton to read the message, jumping out of bed to open the window and push the screen loose, wiggling it out of place and sticking your head out, searching the dark night for clapton.

he makes an appearance as he rises from his seat against the side of your house, letting you help him as he gets one leg over your windowsill, one of his hands resting on it while another hangs onto yours for support. he swings his other leg in, jumping softly into your room and softly shutting the now-screenless window behind him.

and there he is again, in a black graphic muscle tee and sweatpants, thoroughly distracting you without even meaning to. at least, you assumed he didn't mean to.

clapton turns back to you and you wonder how he's grinning after the way you'd treated him at school, after you'd made him wait outside for seventeen minutes with no guarantees of sex.

and that's when you realize that's what you like about clapton - even now, after you demanded he come over at midnight, after you have had sex in this room more than a handful of times, clapton expects nothing. he does not think he has a right to your body, does not move to touch or kiss you, does not assume anything. he simply stands there, still smiling, waiting, quietly wondering what it is you needed him here for.

you'd really like to kiss him, but you're worried it'll come out softer than you usually kiss clapton.

instead, you hug him.

you've never done that before. but clapton's arms wrap around you naturally, letting you slot against him with a sigh. clapton is uncharacteristically quiet, though you can tell he still doesn't expect anything from you. and that makes you feel even worse.

"i'm sorry," you mumble, shame hot on your face.

"what's that?"

"i'm sorry," you repeat, pulling away from clapton, not realizing he heard you perfectly fine the first time until you see that stupid smile on his face. you frown, hit his unbelievably hard arm. "i'm serious."

"yeah, i bet," clapton jokes, though his smile begins to fade when your eyes start to get angry. "it's fine," he shrugs, hoping to cheer you up before your mood dips to a point of no return.

"it's not." your arms are crossed again, though this time clapton tries to determine how much frustration is directed at him and how much is reserved for yourself.

clapton is close to panicking, pulling your arms apart and quietly willing you not to be upset, realizing he only has a few more chances for his jokes to cheer you up until they will eventually have the opposite effect. "you think i'd lie to you?" he grins easily, still holding on lightly to your wrists, giving you a chance to step out of his grasp if you'd like to.

you wouldn't like to.

you're trying not to get frustrated (or rather, not take it out on clapton, again), exhaling deeply and swinging your arms, still lightly linked with clapton's.

"you'd probably lie to me for five dollars."

clapton scoffs, offended. "five? it'd at least have to be ten."

finally, you crack a smile and a weight on clapton's shoulders lifts.

"wow," you say dryly. "i didn't know i meant that much to you," you laugh through your words, clearly joking.

but now clapton is strangely serious, a side that you've never seen before almost scaring you, clapton's voice so quiet you almost convince yourself you've imagined it all.

"you do."

you're not sure who leaned in first (honestly, probably, you), but your lips are on clapton's and your hands are in his dark curls like you've done too many times before. you're too scared to kiss him softly like you've been dying to, to take your time with him like you've imagined over and over. your pace steadily increases, hands lightly tugging on clapton's hair, his hands slipping in and out of the bottom of your shirt. you can tell he's trying not to make noise by the way his breath catches in his throat when you pull off, breathing heavily. you stare at each other for too long - you finally allow yourself to indulge in what's been on display the entire day, your hands letting clapton know exactly what's been on your mind today.

clapton almost laughs as your hands run up and down his arms, cheeky smile as he flexes underneath your touch. he knew it - he could feel the heat of your stare from across the cafeteria though he'd never been quick enough to catch you.

clapton is about to crack another joke, to tease you about your staring problem, when your mouth is on his again, shutting him up before he could even begin to speak. your kiss is rougher this time, hands balling up the fabric of clapton's airy shirt, until clapton decides he's had enough and pulls away to strip himself of the black-dyed cotton. he pulls you onto your bed, sitting up against your fluffy pillows.

he watches, hungrily now, as you settle into his lap, his breath coming out raspy as you immediately attach yourself to his neck, making marks that might not disappear by monday. clapton wonders what's made you suddenly so possessive, only for a second before your mouth finds a spot that makes clapton whine.

"shhh," you whisper, pressing kisses down clapton's neck as he holds onto your hips, tent in his pants growing with the idea that bruises made by you will linger on his skin even after he leaves.

clapton's hand reaches for your head as you move further away, guiding you gently back to his neck, tilting his head for you. "more, please," he rasps out, too desperate to be embarrassed.

you laugh, thinking he doesn't really mean it, kissing his lips instead. your tongue slips inside his mouth, kisses sloppy and warm as they usually are. clapton's fingers are messing with the waistband of your pajama bottoms and your hands clutch onto the back of his neck.

neither of you care as your noses press into each other, disconnected and reconnected mouths making sounds that make that warm feeling in the pit of your stomach grow.

you roll your hips and clapton fully moans into your mouth, eyes evidently hazy when you pull away for air. your hand slips down to clapton's sweatpants, resting on him gently but refusing to give him anything more. clapton works for it, moving his hips up into your hand, biting his lip to keep from being too loud. you'd almost forgotten how desperately clapton davis craved your touch, craved the feeling of being inside you, doing almost anything you'd tell him just for the feeling of you against him.

you indulge him, tugging on clapton's sweatpants and palming him through his boxers. his face is in your shoulder, quiet moans muffled by you.

clapton is respectful, even now. his hands pull at your shirt but don't take it off. though, his grip on your hips tighten, his face strains. you roll off of him, strip yourself completely. he barely has time to admire you before he pulls his own bottoms off, kicking them off your bed as you grab one of the condoms taped to the top of one of your drawers.

clapton is already starting to drip pre-cum at the sight of you, hurrying to take the foil package from you. he opens it with his teeth, a trick he learned solely to impress you, getting it on with slightly-trembling hands.

you slide back onto your bed, letting clapton kiss you as he gently lies you down on your pillows - always making sure you're comfortable. he climbs on top of you, careful not to drop his weight on top of you, kissing the skin of your shoulders and chest as your hands rest on his toned shoulders. his arms look incredible, hands on either side of your body as clapton lifts himself up.

you let yourself look at him for a second, pulling his face into his hands. you watch his slightly-confused expression, his eyes eventually focusing on yours. not your body, not your lips. he's staring straight into you, asking no questions about your sudden need to admire him. and then he leans in, placing an unusually gentle kiss on your lips, feather-light and almost not there at all.

and then he's asking you if you're ready, like he always does, placing his mouth against your shoulder to muffle his moans as he carefully slips inside of you and finally gives you what you've been wishing for all day.

clapton lies next to you after you finish, condom tied up and thrown out, both of you cleaned up with the help of wet wipes and towels you kept handy.

clapton was unusually quiet and you were beginning to tally all the times he had acted out of character today. usually, he'd be cracking jokes, trying to kiss you obnoxiously, because when has clapton davis ever been serious about anything?

not tonight, though. he's starting to worry you with his silence. did he fall asleep? no, you hear him shift beside you. you dare to look over and see clapton on his side, head propped up on an arm. he's biting the inside of his cheek, a nervous habit you recognize by now.

you lay there for a few moments, anxiety almost fully settled in before clapton finally speaks.

"you know," clapton starts, voice nervous like you've never heard it before. you turn to give him your full attention, though you're not sure if that makes it better or worse. "you know... you know i like you, right?"

that takes you by surprise. it shouldn't; obviously clapton has to like you to some degree to be here. but if he's saying what you think he's saying-

"like... i like you. like, i want to take you out on a date. jesus, how many times am i gonna say like?"

you can't help but laugh, clapton rubbing his forehead with his palm.

clapton smiles again, more familiar now, but it's still a little nervous. if you'd rest against his chest right now, you're sure you'd hear his heart racing.

you're biting your lip, too, not sure how to reply. because the feelings you've realized you have for clapton terrify you. not out of shame or embarrassment, but of pure fear that clapton won't take anything between the two of you seriously.

you're too quiet and clapton has always hated the silence, a need to fill it pushing him to take on the role of class clown.

"stupid, right? that's, like, the one thing that wasn't supposed to happen." clapton laughs his usual charming laugh, as if the entire thing was no big deal.

he almost fooled you.

"i like you, clapton davis," you admit out loud for the first time after a moment, catching clapton himself by surprise. "i mean, i seriously hate how much i like you."

clapton laughs again, but you can tell it's genuine this time. he turns to you again, watching your face but detecting no deception. he knows you're mostly joking, but he doesn't have to ask why the part that isn't joking said that.

he knows how careless he can be. his go-with-the-flow attitude let him accept whatever you'd give him, but it'd almost driven you away, too. as clapton realized how much he really cared, you'd thought that he had not really cared at all, pushing him away as you discovered your own growing love to try and prevent yourself from getting hurt. it was a real mess.

"i, um," clapton starts, not quite great with words that aren't strung together to make people laugh. "really care about you. in the way that i'd stand outside your window for an hour if you wanted me to and i wouldn't even ask for sex." clapton cringes at the example but to his relief, you laugh. "and i can't promise you i won't hurt you but i fully give you permission to, like, chop my dick off or something if i do."

"clapton-"

"i'm serious!" clapton laughs, relieved that you're laughing along with him. "i'll sign a waiver. just let me take you out on an actual date?" he asks hopefully, spinning one of his bracelets around his wrists nervously.

clapton grins so wide his cheeks hurt when you nod, smiling as he is. "yeah, okay."

he doesn't wait to long to cup your face and kiss you, making sure his mouth presses against yours slowly and carefully, trying to pour all the things he can't figure out how to say into the kiss. you seem to get it, letting clapton rub his thumb over your cheek gently and look at you for a few moments after you separate. he wipes the corner of your lips, large fingers dragging along the high points of your face.

"i should go," he says finally, quietly, reluctantly.

"you could go in the morning," you say too quickly. it's risky, but you don't want to let go of clapton just yet.

clapton grins, traces your jaw. "if you insist."

you're rolling your eyes with no hostility, getting up to pull something fresh on, throwing clapton a shirt he'd left that you'd had to lie to your parents about when they spotted it in your hamper.

"i can't believe you didn't know i liked you. i gave you my favorite bracelet," clapton shakes his head in disbelief as he pulls the shirt on and digs for the sweatpants he'd thrown to the ground.

"you didn't give it to me, you left it here," you scoff, climbing back in to bed.

"that's the same thing," clapton insists, picking the neon green bracelet off your desk, heart leaping at the fact that you'd kept it. he climbs in next to you, holding out an expectant hand. you place your arm in it, smiling as you let clapton slide the bracelet onto your wrist.

"there. now i gave it to you."

"yeah, whatever." you pull clapton down next to you, placing your head on his chest while his strong arms wrap around you instinctively. one of his hands reaches up to your shoulder, rubbing up and down soothingly.

"goodnight," you mumble quietly, sleep catching you quickly.

"goodnight," clapton whispers, letting it take him, too.

he'd dream about you like he usually would, but you're already in his arms like he'd always hoped.

[suosgirl]

i can't stop thinking about your recent story 😩 it's so fluffy 💗 what if suo saves reader from thugs one day, as a gentleman as he is, suo accompanies her until she can finally go home safely. oh! then! they meet again unexpectedly in kotoha's cafe since the reader's classmate wants to buy a coffee. reader gave suo a chinese novel as a way of thanks since she notice that he likes chinese stuff due to his outfit then it made suo curious about her which led him to pinning at her but she's kinda dense HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

A Gentleman (& His Rambler) | Hayato Suo x Reader

Word Count: 4501

୨ৎ Read me before interacting!

୨ৎ Pairing: Hayato Suo x Reader feat. brief (very brief) mentions of Haruka Sakura and Akihiko Nirei

୨ৎ Song Inspiration: Talk Too Much - Reneé Rapp

୨ৎ Warnings: mdni, fluff, f!reader, ooc (definitely ooc sorry ah), angst (?), harassment, insecurities, swearing, kissing, 1 oblivious idiot and 1 lovesick idiot – if I’ve missed one, I apologize + please let me know!

୨ৎ Note: Oh my goodness this was such a fluffy and cute idea ahhh!!! Thank you for the request (and so sorry that it took so long ahh)!! Definitely took a lot of liberties with this (f!reader is written as a college student) but I hope you enjoy the story (and I hope it was somewhere in the ballpark of what you were thinking of hehe)!!!! Additional notes: I wasn’t too comfortable with just writing down any old novel, so I did a bit of research on my end and wrote it in a way that made sense to me as well as Suo’s character! So sorry if this wasn’t really what you had in mind, but I think it flows fairly well with the story so I hope that it makes sense for you as well! ♡

In your defense, at least you talked about things that were interesting. At least, you had thought so, but the puzzled looks on your assailant's faces beg to differ. It’s funny, when Suo comes across the men harassing you, he knows that you’re in trouble – but instead of taking the time to maybe scream for help or yell at them to go away, you’re instead in the middle of explaining differential equations to them.

You hated this. You weren’t even supposed to be walking home alone.

But, when duty calls (the duty being your friend having to beg their professor for a grading curve), well – you make do with what you’ve got. 

You could’ve stayed, and right now, you think that you should’ve stayed, but you were never a patient person – so, determined and tenacious, you start your short journey back home. 

You’re counting on making quick work of the stroll, maybe stopping by the corner store to pick up some snacks and a well-deserved coffee, before finally bunkering down to start the copious amount of research that you’ve been putting off.

What you aren’t counting on, though, is for a group of guys to start following you just a little after you leave campus.

You don’t count on them running after you once you speed your walk up to a run.

And, you don’t count on them to corner you in an alley when you ignore their pleas of “slow down” and “we just wanna talk”.

They drive you into a corner, and you shrink under their outraged eyes and towering frames.

You’re absolutely fucked, and you know it.

Your mind short circuits, and you freeze – one hand on the strap of your bag, and the other clamped around your phone.

You know what you should do. You should threaten to call the authorities, you should start crying for help, you should try to make a dash past all of them to freedom.

But, you’re you, so…

Like any sane person – you start talking.

Despite the tears that are threatening to fall from your eyes and the wobble in your knees, you start telling these harassers about how your classes went, the textbooks you purchased (at an outrageous price, might you add), the quiz that you failed, and the project that you have due in a couple of days.

And – you can’t help it. It’s not like they knew what they were signing up for when they chased you, but you’re sure that if they did, then the thought wouldn’t have even crossed their minds.

On all accounts, you didn’t think your rambling was even that bad, and honestly, you rarely ever did it.

(This is all pure speculation on your end, by the way.)

But you know how some people are just gifted? How some things just come naturally to them? 

…Yeah. That was you. Would some say that you simply don’t have a filter? Maybe. Would others say that you talk at the speed of light? Perhaps.

In your defense, at least you talked about things that were interesting. At least, you had thought so, but the puzzled looks on your assailants faces beg to differ.

It’s funny, when Suo comes across the men harassing you, he knows that you’re in trouble – but instead of taking the time to maybe scream for help or yell at them to go away, you’re instead in the middle of explaining differential equations to them. 

And what’s silly is that it works – you’ve got them standing there scratching their heads as they try to just keep up with you, and you …

Well, Suo drinks in the sight of you. 

It’d be hard not to – not with the way that you’re moving your hands in earnest with your words or the way your brows are scrunching up in agitation.

Wisps of your hair have escaped the haphazard bun you’d done earlier that day, and your face has a glowing, rosy flush to it.

And your lips – 

Well, Suo’s never had the urge to kiss a stranger, but… 

With the way that they part pretty with every word, and the occasional peek of the tip of your tongue as you lick them, Suo can’t say that he would say no if you so chose to reward him for his hard work with a press of your lips to his.

And, from what he can gather, you really hate differential equations.

It’s captivating, really.

Besides… Suo’s always been fairly weak to charming little things like you.

ִׄ˚ • 𖥔 ࣪˖ ⭑ ₊ ⭒ *ೃ༄

You’re not sure how or even when (as your body is still in fight or flight mode and your mouth is still going) but eventually, there’s only one person standing in front of you – and it’s a stranger.

A kind, attractive stranger who’s just saved you.

And now, he’s comforting you, voice soft and smile gentle as he tells you that everything's okay now.

But you… well, you’re inconsolable. 

Not because you’ve just experienced a traumatic incident, no.

It’s because, well, you’ve just yapped like your life depended on it, in front of a man who had not only saved you, but also witnessed said incessant talking.

Embarrassed doesn’t even begin to explain the way that you feel right now.

You do your best to thank him in a polite and brief manner before going on your merry way, but he can see the way you’re gripping your bag and walking with a slight sway to your step.

And it would be rude, right? To let you walk home all alone? After experiencing something like this?

At least, that's what Suo tells himself before he sends Sakura and Nirei a quick message that he’ll be running late to meet with them.

Always the gentleman, Suo catches up with you and offers to walk you home.

The request catches you off guard more than you’d like to admit, so much so that all you can do is shyly nod with wide eyes when he asks if you’d like him to hold your school bag as well.

There’s a slight brush of your fingertips as you hand the bag to him, and you feel it coming.

You know what’s about to happen, but there’s no way in hell that you can stop what’s already begun.

And you, always the rambler, start talking about everything and anything that you can think of just to fill the silence between you.

He had chalked down your reaction earlier to being in a heightened state of panic, but, as he escorts you home, he realizes that – no, this is just how you are.

And it’d be a lie if he didn’t find it endearing.

When you’re delivered safe and sound, you promise to get him a gift to show your gratitude but he waves it off, saying that you don’t have to go out of your way to do so.

(He doesn’t tell you that he’d much rather just be in your company to see what else will spill from your pretty lips.)

ִׄ˚ • 𖥔 ࣪˖ ⭑ ₊ ⭒ *ೃ༄

You, however, weren’t one to let something like that go — especially for the person who’d saved you. You don’t catch his name (which is shocking because how did you forget to ask him such an important question amongst everything else), but that doesn’t discourage you – If there’s one thing that you are, it’s stubborn.

And also talkative.

You begin asking around, from your friends to your neighbors to even store employees, trying to get as much information about him as you can. 

You learn his name, that he’s a part of Bofurin (figures), that he enjoys drinking tea, and that he has an affinity for Chinese-styled clothing. But beyond that, the trail goes cold. It seems that he’s someone who keeps his tastes close to heart, so you’ve got no other choice but to work with what little you’ve learned.

Almost immediately, you tick off any tea related gifts in your mind. You ran exclusively on iced coffee and pure adrenaline, so – yeah. You definitely did not have the necessary judge of character needed to distinguish tea blends.

But! You don’t let that little roadblock deter you. Stubbornness can work wonders.

You rack your brain for what feels like ages on what gift could suit a man as mysterious as him, but a girl can only muse for so long – and you weren’t happy with any of your ideas thus far.

You could get him clothes, but you don’t know his size. You could treat him to a meal, but your sources tell you that he’s rarely ever seen eating. You could get him jewelry cleaner for his earrings, but you’re not quite sure of the materials that are in them.

It isn’t until you’re stuck in the campus library during one fateful cram session that it hits you – literature.

It suited him! It was the best of both worlds, you thought. It was heartfelt, and also of substance for a man of his caliber. And – it made sense!

(This also could’ve been an act of procrastination on your part, but you feign ignorance.)

You spend about half of an hour speaking to the librarian about what Chinese books get borrowed the most, and the other half scouring over the internet for recommendations and book reviews.

What you land on, after extensive research that really should’ve been spent on school (but whatever), is a book called “The Book of Songs: The Ancient Chinese Classic of Poetry”.

According to the librarian, this book is loaned at least once to twice a month, which is surprising considering that it’s not a required text for any of your school’s courses. What you take away from this, though, is that it’s popular. 

And when you see the 4.6 out of 5 rating, well – 

The people don’t lie. At least, you assume so. The librarian had also said that this was a classic for anyone interested in Chinese literature, and who were you to deny the suggestions of a clear expert in the matter?

And, when you slip in a handwritten note of yet another “thanks” with your number and name in the cover of the book, well, who could blame you?

You just wanted to know his thoughts on the book – that’s all.

Really.

But the thing is that you haven’t got the slightest clue on how to give it to him.

He wasn’t at Furin High anymore, so that wasn’t a solution. And – you weren’t so desperate to ask around for his address, so you find yourself stuck between a rock and a hard place.

So what do you do?

Like any sane person – you keep it in your book bag.

Eventually, right? Eventually, you’ll see him again, and you can just drop it in his hands before scurrying away like the little shy bumblebee you are. And if he doesn’t message you back? Hey – no worries! You’ll just do everything in your power to erase the interaction from your mind until your inevitable passing of old age!

Good god, you were starting to ramble in your head now.

‘Eventually’ becomes a safety word for you of sorts. It means the inevitable future, that’ll come sooner or later.

You just didn’t know that it would be today.

ִׄ˚ • 𖥔 ࣪˖ ⭑ ₊ ⭒ *ೃ༄

When your friend asks you to meet at Café Pothos after class so that you can get coffee, you answer with an immediate and desperate yes. 

But – 

Whether it was due to the all nighter you had pulled the night before, or the overwhelming workload you had been saddled with over the course of the past couple days – you’re not sure, but you swear that your eyes are playing tricks on you.

Because, lo and behold, sitting at the counter with the afternoon glow illuminating his side profile perfectly, is Suo.

And you feel all the air escape your lungs.

Your friend calls your name from a table just a little further into the café, but you can’t move – not with his gift weighing so heavy in your bag.

It isn’t until one of Suo’s friends, one with black and white hair, is nudging Suo with his shoulder and tilting his chin in the direction of you.

“Ya got someone staring – do you know ‘em?”

When Suo turns to you, eye wide with surprise and his mouth just slightly parted, you can’t help but feel like a moron because – you’d forgotten just how handsome he really is.

And when he gets up from his chair to meet you in the café’s doorway, you try to bite back the words that are already forming at the tip of your tongue. 

“Oh, it’s you! It’s been a while since I last saw you – Sorry, I didn’t get your name last time. What was it?”

You take a deep breath in, willing the monstrosity that’s your mouth to calm down just the slightest. 

Just one question. He just asked one question. Even a grade school child could answer this without getting distracted. You could absolutely do this.

You, with all the willpower that you can muster, let your name flow out before immediately clamping down on your tongue.

But then, Suo tilts his head in a playful manner as he lets your name roll off his tongue, as if practicing it for future use, and at that point, even cement would serve powerless against the impulse of your mouth.

And you break.

“Ah! By the way – remember when I said I would get you a gift? You know, for saving me last time? That was so scary, haha, and I just wanted to thank you again for helping me out that day. I got you this poetry book, I hope you like it! I wasn’t sure what you’d like, and I didn’t know what else I could get you, but this has really good reviews! I even spoke to my school librarian about it! 4.6 out of 5, can you believe that? So, I hope it lives up to the praise, haha, but let me know if it doesn’t! If it doesn’t, well, I’m sure I can find something else for you… by the way, I –”

Okay, so you couldn’t do it.

You’re interrupted by the low whistling of one of Suo’s friends, and you blink rapidly before throwing your hand over your mouth.

But Suo, well – 

He’s looking down at you with a hint of fondness in his eye, but you wouldn’t know that, not with the way that your gaze is glued to the floor.

You did it again, and this time, with an audience. 

Briefly, you wonder if it’s too late for you to ask for the book back so that you can pathetically stuff your note into your pocket – and then burn it later.

But the book’s already in his hands, and the words have already left your mouth.

“... I think I talk too much,” you mumble as you tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, suddenly very well aware that Suo’s barely said less than 30 words compared to your whopping 124.

This wasn’t what you had wanted, but you just couldn’t help it.

He laughs, though, and goes to gently pat your head.

“Maybe so…”

He pats twice, before trailing the tips of his fingers gently down the side of your face.

“... but I’m a good listener.”

He ends his words with a playful tap of his finger to the tip of your nose, but all you can do is gape in response.

God, he really was just way too nice.

(He was not, in fact, just being nice – but you’d find this out much, much later.)

ִׄ˚ • 𖥔 ࣪˖ ⭑ ₊ ⭒ *ೃ༄

To your surprise, Suo actually likes hanging out with you. Or at least, that’s what he says, but you’re not so sure. Not when you’re doing most of the talking, and he’s leaning his chin on his hand as he listens. 

Sometimes, and you hate when you do this, but you wonder if he’s just taking pity on you.

You don’t like to think about it too much, don’t like to feed the insecurity that dwells deep in your heart, but sometimes, you can’t help it.

And it’s not like you’ve never heard it before – the comments of “you’re so loud” or “do you ever breathe?” or, and this is your personal favorite, “you talk too much.”

Because yeah – you know, you’re aware.

It’s easy to laugh it off, and you do every time, but when you’re alone at night, with just you and your thoughts, you can’t help but create a daily habit – 

One where you replay everything that you’ve said that day, and you try to critique yourself.

Oh, I spoke too much during that – I’ve got to tone it down. 

Yikes, I got a little loud there – I need to speak softer.

Oops, I went on a tangent – I need to cut myself off.

And honestly? This habit becomes your bread and butter, despite how detrimental you know it is. Because the reality is, you’d much rather hear it from yourself than others.

But, being with Suo – 

Well, he doesn’t let you. 

Doesn’t let you tone it down, or speak softer, or cut yourself off.

Because he’s just as invested in what you’re saying as you are – and the feeling of that is …

“Tell me more – I’m listening.”

“I can’t hear you love, can you speak up?”

“Why’d you stop? It was just getting interesting.”

Well, it’s indescribable to you.

And, he does this soft little hum as he listens to you, and everytime, everytime it has you stumbling over your words just the slightest.

(You don’t catch the way that the corners of his lips perk up at the sound.)

And suddenly – you don’t have to bite back your tongue around him anymore. 

You can just be you, with no restrictions, no second guessing, no worries.

“I don’t get it,” you admitted once during one of your walks around your neighborhood (you’d needed a break from studying, and luckily, he just happened to be in the area for patrol), “I’m only like this when I’m around you.”

Suo laughs, and you feel your chest tighten just a bit at the sound, because his laugh was, well – 

The only word you can use to describe it is addictive.

And it always, always left you with butterflies in your stomach.

“That’s okay – I’d prefer it, actually.”

Your steps falter at his words, and he continues.

“I’d prefer if you’re only like this around me.”

That night, you’re left at your doorstep with rosy cheeks – and you’re 100% sure that it’s not due to the humid summer weather.

But you had to give it to him – he really was a good listener.

And, he had great memory.

Most of the time, you’d only really understand and process half the words that fly out of  your mouth, but Suo was able to process all of it.

If you absentmindedly mentioned that you’d really liked the coffee at this one café in Makochi, he’s asking if you’re free the coming weekend so that he can try their assortment of tea.

And when the cashier asks if you both are together, you innocently answer with a cheerful yes and fall into a tangent about how you’d loved their drinks so much that he’d wanted to try them too and now you’re both here to hang out and try more of their menu!

Suo doesn’t find it necessary to clarify what the cashier actually meant – not with the way that your answer sounds so right to him. 

Because yes, you were together, even if you yourself weren’t aware of it yet.

(A hangout in your eyes. A date in his.)

If you had an upcoming deadline, Suo was always diligently checking in with you. He’d send a text every couple of days, asking how it’s going and the efforts that you’ve made towards it – and you have to admit that while it was helpful, it was also extremely unnecessary.

Unnecessary only because you enjoyed procrastinating, but with a man like this, you simply couldn’t.

…

Okay, fine – so maybe you don’t have as many sleepless nights because you’re well ahead of your projected timeline. So maybe you spend less time cramming for tests because you’ve already reviewed the practice exam like three times. So maybe you’re able to lower your overall stress levels by actually adhering to the plans that you’ve set up for yourself.

So what?

It’s… it’s not like that was a problem before, right?

It absolutely was – but again, you’re stubborn, remember?

(Nagging in your eyes. Thoughtfulness in his.)

And, it’s during one of your “hangouts”, that Suo presses his luck.

He should’ve known, really, that it’d go through one ear and out the other, but he blames it on his unrivaled, optimistic spirit – and maybe just a smidge of wishful thinking.

Because introducing you as his special girl should’ve raised some flags in your mind, right?

It should’ve made you wonder – hm, why am I Suo’s special girl?

He swears he can see the gears turning in your head. 

But you’re you, so you take whatever it is that you thought it meant and you run with it.

And now, you’re introducing yourself to all of the past Bofurin members as his best friend, which – 

Not completely off base, but not at all what he was expecting from the situation.

And, when a couple of them send eyes of sympathy in his direction, all he can do is force a strained smile as he guides you, with his hand on your waist, to yet another group of people who will undoubtedly follow suit.

(Kindness in your eyes. Affection in his.)

At this point, you’re sure that he could read you like an open book – and he can.

He can read you so well, in fact, that he knows that you’re as dense as they come.

Because for months, Suo’s been playing the long game.

He’s been taking you out on dates, showering you with affection, and basically professing his devotion – all to show you what a great partner he could be for you.

But you – adorable, clueless, dense you. You just couldn’t quite get the hint, could you?

So, when Suo has to pull out the big guns to really get it through your thick skull (he thinks this in an affectionate way, he swears) – well, you only have yourself to blame.

Because how could someone so perfect be so damn oblivious?

ִׄ˚ • 𖥔 ࣪˖ ⭑ ₊ ⭒ *ೃ༄

“You’re aware that I have feelings for you, right?”

You’d been stargazing for the past 10 minutes, fingers just barely touching as you’re both splayed out on the blanket laid out below you.

It was supposed to be a fun little hangout as you celebrate the end of the quarter, but now, you’re starting to realize that maybe, just maybe – 

You blink, before sitting up.

He repeats his words, slower now, while rising up with you.

You blink again, slower now, as your brain processes what he’s just said.

It takes all of about 5 seconds before you open your mouth, ready to default back to your factory settings of rambling but –

Nothing comes out.

Suo had managed to stun you into silence for the first time in your life with less than 10 words.

And, judging by the pleased smile on his lips and the glint in his eye – he knows this.

This was a golden opportunity, after all. So, Suo takes advantage of it while he can.

Whether this is revenge for the past couple of months though, he’s not sure – but, he always was fairly petty.

“You’re so silly, you know that love?”

Your mouth, still open, can only close in response.

He presses on.

“You are, and this isn’t a compliment, the most oblivious person I’ve ever fallen for.”

Your breath hitches at his words.

“You never once left my mind after our first meeting – and when I saw you again at the café, well, I thought it was fate. It had to be – because how was I lucky enough to get to meet you again?”

You bite your tongue, this time not to hold back your words, but instead, to try and get your mouth to start working again.

“And it’s funny – because I managed to fall for someone who can capture the attention of strangers with just mere words, but somehow can’t see that I’ve been following them around like a lost, lovesick puppy since the day we crossed paths.”

You’re at a loss for why your mouth still won’t move.

“So if this still isn’t enough for you to finally see how deeply I feel for you, then I’m not sure what else I can do that’s still within the bounds of being a gentleman because –”

And finally, finally you’re able to cut him off – with a soft press of your lips to his cheek.

“... I‘m sorry Suo … but I think ... you talk too much.”

What can you say? You were never a patient person – and right now, with his feelings finally so clear to you, well… 

You were an idiot. To think, you could’ve done that so much earlier.

It takes him a second to process your words, cheek still reminiscing the brief contact of your lips on his skin, but – 

He gazes down at you, with a coy smile on his face and mirth in his eyes – and you can see it so clearly on his face, that feeling of triumph.

Because although he’d spent the past couple of months yearning for your affection, he wasn’t prepared for how rewarding it would be when you finally reciprocated.

“I suppose you’re rubbing off on me.”

Then, as an afterthought, he adds –

“I’m suddenly feeling very talkative. Will you, by any chance, be using that method to silence me right here?”

And when he taps on his lips with his finger, well – 

You weren’t dense enough to not understand what he was asking for.

And this time, when your lips meet his, he’s ready.

He snakes one arm around your waist to pull you onto his lap, with the other cupping the side of your face, and you melt.

It’s soft and drawn out and perfect, with both your lips parted just so – and there’s only one word that runs through both of your minds when you kiss.

Finally.

And, when your lips part, your bodies don’t. Instead, Suo presses his forehead against yours, and you feel your eyes flutter at the gesture.

God, you really were an idiot.

“By the way – that book you gave me, I realize now that I never got to let you know how much I liked it.”

You blink at his words, still in a daze from his lips on yours.

“How did you know that was my favorite book?”

You furrow your brows at his words, because you did not know that.

And Suo knows that you didn’t – but he continues.

Because, well, what can he say? You really were rubbing off on him.

“I loan it every month through one of my friends in Bofurin. Although, it’s nice to have my own copy now – especially since it’s from you.”

[writeonwhiskey]

the skz house: ch 17

a/n: thank you to @bahablastplz for editing. check out her writing if you haven't already! she's amazing.

Summary: Welcome to Sigma Kappa Zeta, the most popular fraternity on campus. When you, down on your luck and looking for a place to live, see their ad for ‘IN-HOUSE STAY’. You're one of the four girls chosen and find that your duties for the rest of the school year will be cooking, cleaning, and pleasing your assigned house members: Hyunjin & Chan.

[ read chapter sixteen here ]

Chapter Seventeen: Of Futures & Flights

Lee Know was right—your least favorite string of words in the English language. Hyunjin will be going to Korea for winter break and now your only option is to see what Chan has planned. You knock on the door to his room before entering. He’s sitting at his desk, laptop in front of him. He turns to face you as you enter. A hint of a smile tugs at his lips when he sees you and you immediately feel your face flush. 

“Hey,” you say meekly. 

Lately with just one look from him you’re overcome with flashbacks of being handcuffed to his bed. And he knows it. It hadn’t been awkward or uncomfortable in the days that followed, but he certainly was finding a lot of joy in catching your eye from across the room and winking or smirking. He always got a kick out of your reaction. 

“Hey,” he replies smoothly.

You walk over to your bed and sit on the edge, facing him.

“I wanted to ask about your plan for winter break,” you cut straight to the chase. “Are you going to visit your family?”

“Maybe. Why?” he asks, crossing his hands in front of his chest as he leans back in the chair. “Got a more tempting suggestion?”

Of course, he must already have some idea why you’re here. Lee Know or Hyunjin could have mentioned it. But he wants to hear you ask anyways.

“I want to use the trip I won around that time and Hyunjin is going home, so…”

“So…I’m your backup?”

“N-No,” you stutter. Though you can’t deny how it must come off from his point of view. 

“Hmmm,” he hums, not taking his eyes off you. “Where you planning to go?”

“I was thinking somewhere warm, like Miami. I’ve never been.”

“And you actually want me to go with you?” he asks, arching an eyebrow. “You could take one of the other members.” 

Is he suggesting that you should choose someone else? That he doesn’t want to go with you? He does so damn well at playing serious when he’s messing with you, you can never tell.

“I’d prefer to spend it with you…”

“Since Hyunjin isn’t available?”

“Chan.” you sigh. 

He chuckles at your exasperation and gives up. 

“I’ll go.”

You wish you had something nearby on the bed to hit him with. Internally you’re jumping for joy. 

The next day, you’re in the kitchen with plastic gloves on your hands. Hyunjin’s long body is laying on the marble countertop, feet hanging off the edge, head over the sink with a folded towel under his neck for support. He has hands clasped in the center of his chest. A bottle of black hair dye sits next to the faucet as you work your fingers through his newly darkened locs to rinse it out.

You keep turning your head to the side as you work, trying to fully picture him with dark hair as you’ve only ever seen him as a bleached blonde. The darker strands definitely look more natural on him and enhance his features.

It’s finals week and you’ve decided to take a break from reading to help Hyunjin out. The house has been relatively calm lately as everyone cracks down on studying. Some go at it alone, others pair up to quiz each other. 

“Would your parents really lose their shit if you came home with blonde hair?” you ask, turning the water off when the black dye has finally stopped dripping.

“Yeah ,” he replies. “And that’s an understatement. My dad would behead me, then drag my headless body around before letting me show up at company events like that. It’s ‘unprofessional’,” he says, using air quotes.

He jokes about it so casually, but it makes you wonder what their parents are like. It’s so different to the supportive upbringing you had. Well, it is supportive in a way—their parents are doing what they believe is best for their child’s future. It just seems like it doesn’t leave room for them to be themselves once they return home.

You know, from talking to Han, the general idea of what’s expected of them after graduation. You previously assumed, though, that just meant a continued sexual relationship was off the table. After what Lee Know said, you now understand that you are forbidden to have contact with them at all.

As you’ve grown more curious about it, Hyunjin has been rather receptive of your prying questions. When you asked why he was so open, he mentioned the NDA in that cursed contract you skim read through in desperation all those weeks ago.

“So do you immediately start working after you graduate?” you ask, taking off the plastic gloves and setting them aside.

“Not straight away. There will be a few months spent doing whatever I want…traveling, probably. Then I’ll work directly under my father. Essentially until he’s ready to retire or trusts that I won’t fuck up the family business.”

This feels like such a heavy topic, but Hyunjin grazes over it with ease. Like it’s not a big deal. From his perspective, maybe it isn’t. He’s known the path his life would take since he was very young. They all do. There isn’t much to guess or worry about like most of us. Hell, it doesn’t seem like they get to choose much of anything for themselves. Your thoughts drift to Chan for a second as you wring the water out from Hyunjin’s hair. 

You take the towel from under his head and guide him to sit up so you can dry it.

“And when it comes to love and marriage and children and all that…what sort of freedom do you have?”

Hyunjin makes a face like he’s going to throw up at your words. You roll your eyes and throw one end of the towel at him, so it covers his dramatic face.

“Come upstairs,” you say as you walk out of the kitchen.

When you’re both back in his room, after he stopped to grab his blow dryer, you have him sit in his desk chair. You stand behind him, combing your fingers through his hair.

“So…marriage, love? What’s that look like for you guys?” you ask again.

“At some point I’ll be encouraged to date, then marry. Exclusively from a list of women vetted by my parents,” he tells you.

You chew on your bottom lip; thankful he’s not looking directly at you. From your perspective, it all sounds concerning the more you learn, but you know it’s not your place to speak on it. What is there for you to even say? They’ve probably all already come to terms with it. Would your opinion even matter? In the grand scheme of things, you living with them this year is just a blip on their radar.

“Like an arranged marriage?”

“Kinda,” he says nonchalantly. “I will have some say in it, though.”

You turn on the blow dryer, using it as a distraction to sort through the thoughts arising from the information he provided.

Hyunjin previously mentioned the main function of the SKZ house was to provide them the ability to focus on their studies without allowing love and romance to distract them. Having a dedicated girl each year to meet their needs…to take care of them in more ways than one. It’s almost like this is a trial run for their futures. Though, from the sounds of it, the women vetted by their parents will probably also come from wealthy families and possess the feminine qualities they desire in a daughter-in-law. Certainly no one like you.

You grew up fairly well–your mom and dad played active roles in your upbringing. They were able to dote on you as an only child and you don’t recall ever wanting for much. You weren’t poor, but nowhere near the level of wealth their families have amassed. They supported you with all they had and there was never much fuss or drama. You’ve always been a good kid with your head on straight–focused on your own dreams and goals.

Having gotten to know Hyunjin the past couple of months, you know one day he will make an amazing husband. He’s gentle when needed, thoughtful, caring and extremely empathetic, while still maintaining his masculinity. Which makes him even more attractive. Chan, on the other hand…

You feel a sharp pain in your chest–maybe Chan is holding back with you because he’s saving himself or really only willing to open up to his future wife. That hurts to think about. 

You turn the blow dryer off and sit it on the desk. Hyunjin reaches out for your hand and pulls you around the front of the chair. You sit on his lap, straddling him and cupping his face with your hands.

You take in his new appearance. His blow-dried hair looks full and fluffy, and it’s grown a lot in length, reaching beneath his collar bones. The dark hair looks good on him—it gives meaning to the ‘tall, dark and handsome’ trope.

“What happens if you don’t like anyone on the list?”

“They’ll compile another one,” he shrugs.

“That seems unfair,” you reply. “What if you meet someone organically and fall in love?”

“I could date them,” he says, hands sliding up your thighs to rest on your hips. “But nothing would come of it.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

He considers the question for a beat.

“Not in the way you might think,” he replies.

“Well, I think anyone would be right to be bothered at having so little say in the outcome of their life…”

“I don’t mind that aspect of it. Being on this path ensures I will live a good life,” he says matter-of-factly. 

“What’s your take on it, then?” you ask, making note that he said good life and not happy.

“I’ve never been fond of the ‘forever partner’ idea.”

You lean back a little, sliding your hands down to his shoulders. You’re a little surprised at his words. The kind, caring and doting Hyunjin? Does not believe in soulmates? 

“I have no problem being committed and dedicated to one woman at a time, but…forever?” he asks rhetorically. “I think we’re meant to connect on a deep level with a lot of people at different times in our lives. Do you know how many people there are on this planet? And I’m supposed to find a lifelong match from a list? To meet all my needs, even as they change over time?”

You can completely understand, and have experienced, his commitment and loyalty in the way he immediately opened up to you and was there for you. But maybe this experience has made him grow accustomed to having a new woman in his life every year. 

“New people make things exciting and fresh,” he continues as he slips his thumbs beneath the hem of your shirt, rubbing circles against your skin, “…how you meet, learning about them, being intimate with them.”

You had never taken him for the playboy type. Though the way he’s explaining it doesn’t sound like he will be running around trying to fuck anything that walks. Just that he’d prefer to entertain the idea of a woman without any real commitment for certain stretches of time, for the rest of his life. 

“So you worry you’ll become bored?” you ask. 

“Maybe,” he answers honestly, as always. “I don’t doubt my ability to remain faithful—to be a good dad and husband when the time comes. But I do want to take my time getting there. I’m in no rush. Maybe in 30 years or so.”

You roll your eyes at that.

“I cannot with you,” you say, reaching your hands up to run them through his newly darkened locs. You tug on the strands, and he tilts his head back, shutting his eyes. 

His hands fall from your hips to cup your ass. In one swift move he stands, holding you to him as he walks towards the bed. You rest your forehead against his, and nuzzle his nose.

“Well. I certainly can with you.” He gives your lips a peck with his before tossing you onto the bed. 

You squeal as you land, then start moving backwards on the bed. You can’t help but smile and giggle as he crawls towards you. His dark, fluffy hair falls in front of his eyes and he looks so fucking sexy as he looks down at you.

“Where you going, jagiya?” He asks, straightening his back but still on his knees. He reaches for your leg. “Two weeks without you? We have to make up for the time we’re losing.”

You let out another squeal as he grabs your leg and pulls you towards him. He places his arms on either side of you, caging you in, in the best way possible. You hook your arms around his neck and pull him down towards you. 

After finals are done, it feels like there’s less tension in the house. Everyone’s interacting again versus being huddled up in a corner studying. The house steadily becomes empty as those who are going away for break take their leave. You drop Hyunjin at the airport and try not to think of what it will be like when you have to say goodbye to him for good.

Soon enough, it’s your turn to get dropped off at the airport. Jeongin and Charlotte wave goodbye to you and Chan. They’ll both have the house alone until Jeongin leaves for Korea and you can only imagine what they’ll get up to. You make a mental note to sanitize every communal surface when you get back. 

In the airport, you and Chan barely speak. He has his headphones on and keeps a blank expression plastered to his face. The last couple days his mood seemed to turn sour, and you have no idea what caused it. You have an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach–this is exactly how you did not want to spend the trip.

You busy yourself with checking the destination on your ticket multiple times. With Lee Know in charge of organizing this trip, you couldn’t be sure enough that he hadn’t booked you a flight to Miami, Oklahoma instead of Miami, Florida. 

A few hours later, you and Chan are settled into your business class seats. A few minutes after takeoff, you finally release his hand you’d been clutching for dear life. 

“Sorry,” you apologize, watching him stretch his fingers out. 

He reclines his seat a bit and shifts around to get comfortable. He leans back in the seat and closes his eyes. You lift the window shade and look out at the clouds as you fly through them, trying your best to tame your annoyance. 

You don’t know how long passes, but being an overthinker you’ve gone through several scenarios and outcomes about how this trip could crash and burn if you don’t say something now. You can’t just let his silence go unchecked. You refuse to spend your vacation, that he agreed to come on, this way. You reach over to move his headphones from his right ear. 

“Chan,” you begin, “I haven’t had a real vacation, alone and not with my parents, in almost two years so I’m really looking forward to this, but…”

He’s absentmindedly chewing on his bottom lip as he listens. 

“You’ve been in a shitty mood the last couple days. I want this to be a good trip, I want us to have fun…if you were planning to be miserable, you really didn’t have to come.”

“Planning to be miserable?” He repeats. 

“Your sudden change in attitude?” You shrug. “I would have rather rescheduled the trip, if you were going to be like this. And don’t say like what—you know how you’re treating me.” 

He becomes quiet at your words. You feel proud of yourself for getting them out. There’s no way he doesn’t realize when he’s shutting you out. You look away from him, seeing the stewardess start coming down the aisle with her cart. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally says. “I wanna take this trip with you, y/n, I just have a lot on my mind right now.”

“You always say that,” you shake your head. 

“That doesn’t mean it’s not true,” he replies. 

You let out a soft sigh. 

“Well, isn’t that what vacations are for?” you ask. “You can travel somewhere far away and leave all the bullshit behind. Forget about school…the future,” you look away from him at that, “you can be someone entirely different when you get to your destination. For a little while, anyway.”

He mulls your words over. 

“Is that what we’re doing?” He pulls his headphones down, so they hang around his neck. 

It certainly hadn’t been your intention, but you spot the sudden playful glint in his eyes and nod your head. You want to smack him. Or yourself. You cannot figure out if it’s him and his bad mood that causes the tension, or you allowing him to sulk in it instead of confronting him about it. 

“And who are we pretending to be?” 

You shrug, “Hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

The stewardess stops next to him with her cart, smiling as she opens the cabinet and produces two champagne flutes. She then fills them up with wine. She hasn’t even asked your drink choice, so you assume she’s preparing it for the pair across the aisle. When she politely reaches over Chan to pull out your tray and sits the drink down, you throw a confused look at him. 

Maybe it’s complimentary…but still, wouldn’t she ask if you wanted it?

“I’m sorry,” you finally speak up. “We didn’t ordered this…could I just get a Sprite?”

“Oh, of course, dear,” she says, but still proceeds to pull out Chan’s tray and sits a drink in front of him too. “These drinks are free to you, on behalf of the flight crew. Congratulations on your engagement–future Mr. and Mrs. Bang.”

You stare and blink, dumbfounded. 

Chan clicks his tongue and mutters something in Korean under his breath. 

“Thank you,” he says with a tight-lipped smile. 

“My pleasure,” she replies. “What else can I get you, sir?”

“Water, please,” he tells her. 

She provides you both a cup filled with ice, and your requested Sprite and water before turning to assist the pair on the other side of the aisle. 

“I’m gonna fucking strangle Lee Know,” you say through gritted teeth. 

“Oh, he’s the first call I’m making when we land,” he concurs. 

The man can’t even be trusted to book flight tickets without some kind of shenanigans attached to it. 

Chan picks up his wine glass and sighs, but there’s a hint of a smile on his face. 

“I guess we have our roles,” he says, tilting the rim of his glass towards you. 

You grab your own, but don’t cheers his yet. 

“I don’t know…I was thinking more along the lines of coworkers on a business trip or annoying vloggers or something like that,” you tell him. 

“So you wanna call off the engagement already?” He asks, feigning a hurt look. 

It never ceases to baffle you–how quickly he can go from cold and distant to warm and teasing you. And vice versa. 

“You’re okay with pretending to be my fiancé?” 

He shrugs, “It could be fun. It’ll help take my mind off some things.”

“Really?”

“I’m a committed actor. Very convincing…don’t you remember?”

Of course you remember his stint as Professor Bang. You wouldn’t mind taking a class with him again. But this? Chan pretending to be your fiancé? After your talk with Hyunjin, you know you won’t ever know what it’s like to actually even date him. Let alone fathom marrying him. 

“Okay,” you reply, choosing to indulge. You tap your glass against his before taking a drink. 

You’re so happy that the dark cloud looming over him seems to have dissipated, that it doesn’t even cross your mind how much you might regret this later. Having a sample of this version of Chan? It’s like you’re setting yourself up to get hurt. But you’ll keep telling yourself you’re strong enough to remember it’s not real. That when the time comes to say goodbye to this man, you won’t think about these moments and what could have been. You’ll keep lying to yourself this entire trip.

[ read chapter 18 here ]

a/n: the chan we've been dying to experience is almost here. thank you all so much for your continued support. your feedback, comments, asks, reblogs, etc., ALL your interactions fill my heart with happiness. it encourages me to write more because i don't want to leave you all hanging for too long lol but seriously, tysm!

taglist: i have no idea why it's not letting me tag everyone. i know there's a limit of tags per post but even if i type less than the limit, it's not working :( tagging on hiatus til I can figure it out, i'm sorry.

[sacharinee]

thinking ab peter having a bad tiring day and reader giving him face massages and body massages after they take a bath ‼️

pairing: bf!peter parker x reader

w/c: 780

a/n: hi anon!! i loved writing for this request sm so thank u for sending it <3 i did, however, completely forget to write abt the part about them taking the bath together. im so sorry 😭 but i hope u still enjoy :(( about one spider-man kiss and a ton of domestic!peter

peter knows exactly what he needs right now after a long day. 

there’s only one thing in the world that could make up for having a shitty day and that’s you. 

but unfortunately for peter, when he patters into your shared apartment, you’re nowhere to be found.

“babe?” he calls out. 

he strips himself of his shoes and walks down the short hall to your bedroom, only to find the closet open and your work clothes missing. peter skrinks at your absence and pouts, “great.”

he ponders about taking a nap, but it’s a quarter to nine and he’d rather be awake when you arrive home. 

when his stomach growls, he realizes he’s gone almost an entire day without a proper meal, save for the granola bar you shoved in his hand before he kissed you goodbye. 

as he enters the kitchen, he finds a note left on the counter, scribbled in your handwriting,

“emergency shift at the hospital, back by 9 tonite. food in the fridge, love you!”

peter frowns at your note, sticks it onto the fridge, and pulls out the meal you prepared for him.

he heats up the food and chews the stale chicken slowly. he really misses you. even with your bland food and lack of seasoning, he still enjoys anything from you. you try your best for him. 

when he’s finished cleaning his dishes, peter debates on showering. he wants to wait for you, to take a nice hot shower with you, and clean each other’s stress away. but he’s really stinky from work, and he’d rather just go to bed with you. so he undresses and takes a long shower alone.

—

peter’s prayers are answered when he reenters the shared bedroom dressed in pajamas. 

“hi baby,” you chirp. you take off your glasses and set the book you were reading aside. 

peter’s heart swells at the sight. you’re laying on your side of the bed, hair in a bun, away from your face. you’re dressed in your boyfriend’s plaid boxers and a geeky t-shirt you stole from his dresser.

the tv is playing some rerun of your favorite tv show as he crawls himself across the bed and plops himself in between your open legs. 

peter nests his heavy head upon your pelvis and lets out a deep sigh. your palms run down his clad back, kneading the tense muscles.

“did you eat yet?” he tries to nod his head, “yea, chicken was good, super tasty, thanks, y/n/n” he replies.

he may or not be telling you the whole truth. you’re cooking wasn’t amazing, but he would never tell you that. 

peter flips himself over, staring at you adoringly upside down. your soft hands trace his buff arms, comfort spreading throughout his skin from your touch, “what happened today, petey?”

he exhales, furrowing his brows, and squeezes his eyes shut. he juts his bottom lip out while you weave your fingers and pull through his damps locks. 

“everything went wrong today. everything,” he takes a deep breath, “i was late for biochem, had a pop quiz for psych. not that it was hard but still. i forgot i had tutoring today too, so i'm out fifteen bucks. and we were understaffed for work, so that was a bust. so many mean customers in queens,” he takes a look at you, “we should move somewhere else.”

you snicker at his comment and slide your fingers over his funky left eyebrow, smoothing out the knit and massaging his temples, “yea, like where?” 

you love all versions of peter, but you think this is your favorite. relaxed at your touch, devoting himself wholeheartedly to you. he’s embraced and fully engulfed by you, like putty in your hands. 

“like,” your boyfriend seems distracted, voice deep, staring at you with nothing but affection, “sunnyside? maybe?” peter licks his lips and clears his throat, “just somewhere safer, nicer. for you.”

you’re beaming down at his face; your warm hands cup his cheeks while you land a long and overdue tender kiss upside down. you feel peter smile into the kiss, exhaling through his nose in contentment. 

you keep your hands on his face and gently caress the soft skin as you pull away.

“that sounds nice,” your heart squeezes at the thought as he continues, “we could settle down there, have a family, you know? white picket fence and all. ‘m picturing you in your hot scrubs, bringin’ home the bacon. and i’ll be at home, taking care of the kids.” 

you’re giggling at the scene as you chime in, “and we could have family dinners every saturday night, or- ooh! i could take yoga classes sunday mornings and-”

peter snickers at you, “what you need are some cooking classes.”

gasping, you flick his forehead, “you said you loved my cooking!”

[i-want-men-i-cant-have]

˗ˏˋ꒰ Say ‘I Love You’ ꒱ .

HOW THE FROSTHEIM BOYS WOULD ACT IF THEY HAD A CRUSH ON YOU. ft. jin kamurai, tohma ishibashi, lucas errant, & kaito fuji

wc : 2.5k

warnings : sfw, gender-neutral reader but implied afab for tohma's part

JIN is the definition of a cocky bastard. he acts high and mighty, always getting you to do the most insignificant tasks he can think of, all the while being a completely different person when it's just the two of you.

you have a test you need to study for? forget that. now you have to visit jabberwock to hand milk some beast king seal for his daily cup of tea.

if you're lucky and don't ask too many questions or take too long, you might get a sip. if he's in a good enough mood, he might even pour you a cup to commemorate a job well done. of course, this is rare when he prefers to share an indirect kiss without your knowing.

take a sip and position your lips wherever you want on the cup. he’s always going to put his own directly where yours were.

if he can’t sleep, he’s the type to wake you up at 3 am by phone call solely to have you look out the window to see the moon. he could fall asleep in the known presence of you, so calm and stable. just don't ask him if he’s going sentimental on you or he’ll hang up immediately without even wishing you a word.

don't let these small sweet moments fool you. the second you think he might be catching feelings, you see him out in public, and you’re nothing more than a fly on the wall that needs to be swatted (with utmost care).

even with his on-and-off attitude, he makes sure to become the lifeline you deserve. he can see that the second years don't exactly have the… disposition to take care of you as he could. lucas and the other one can try and protect you all they want, but he’ll be the only one to actually do something. he is the captain of frostheim for a reason.

the second you tell him about someone from his house even raising their voice at you, the best-case scenario is that they get shipped off to dig ditches in the desert for some mission and are gone for so long they have to retake the year.

of course, if you questioned the students' absence, he would wave you off, saying their families were too poor and needed their kids back home to help pay rent.

just remember, no matter how docile he may come off with you, the second someone else enters the room, those walls come shooting back up, acting as if he never caressed your hand, showing you how you could have easily checkmated him before he took out your queen and king all within four moves.

just pray it’s not tohma, or else jin would be taking jab after jab while trying to make him leave his room by any means necessary. all the while the vice-captain filled up your tea, sweet-talking you, and wondering why the door was locked while the two of you were alone all night; something you hadn't even noticed when coming in midday.

just hurry up and confess to jin already so tohma can stop his prying. he's not patient enough to deal with your mixed signals and dilly-dallying.

TOHMA wouldn't even try to cover how bad his excuses for everything were. it’s always going to be 50/50 on how realistic they sound. go fetch this work. go do this and that. he needs to help you study for an upcoming quiz. you need to try out this imported tea. blah, blah, blah.

there had been some minuscule to nonexistent complaints about the formal uniform at the dances and how it should be more elegant. buckle up because this man has ordered the most embarrassing things for you to try on.

the next week, there was a package filled to the brim with luxury clothes on your doorstep. the finest silk materials all adorned your body while he watched, camera and notes in hand. please excuse the quill in his hand writing everything everyone says; that’s just to track your true feelings. oh, the camera? it was for your candid reaction to pair with the pen. you really must work on masking your emotions more; maybe he could help you later.

starting off with a dress for someone your age was a nice start. nothing too sexy or childlike, being more on the modest side. the only skin showing were some ankles, chest, and all of your arms. the next few would be similar, only to ease you into a false sense of security.

somewhere sandwiched in the middle of the modeling session would be dresses tighter and smaller. you felt like your whole body was on display with him, the push-ups on your chest only contributing to your stress. when you asked tohma, he said he had no idea about when he ordered—as if he hadn't done research prior and took quick photos as you came out, pretending to act shocked when he saw the revealing clothing.

oh, the dress has a bit too much skin? well, that’s all the rage from what the female poll said they wanted for their dress uniforms. they did pay for their bodies; they should show them off.

to him, this was your way of opening up to him. if he's already gotten a sneak peek of what you have to offer, then what’s stopping him from seeing the rest? after all, you and he would complement each other so well.

not to mention he would work tooth and nail out of all his free time, dedicating it to figuring out how to get you to confess to him. he would never put his feelings on the line and somehow get rejected by someone like you.

you had to go to a random anomaly library to search for an anomaly book? that’s not too hard.

wrong.

two hours after being stuck in the never-ending location, and a mental breakdown later, tohma already secured the book without your knowledge. now he’s just waiting and making small talk, trying to rip out any piece of information he could use to make you sink your teeth into his hold on you.

both figuratively and literally, you were being brought together. the deeper you went into the library, the closer the shelves seemed to be.

when he had the chance to put the book on the highest shelf, watching the way your face lit up, he almost felt guilty putting this much effort into his plans. but you had to realize your feelings for him, not the other way around.

when you went to grab the anomaly book—along with the massive stack of books it was placed upon—it came avalanching down. instead of being swallowed alive by pages, you were pressed tight against the vice-captain, his shoulder saving you from your doom.

what you didn’t know was how tohma plastered your scent in his mind so he could hopefully find whatever perfume, shampoo, or just your smell somewhere.

LUCA would be the sweetest thing if he liked you. he would, of course, deny these feelings, thinking, or understanding them as platonic.

he would make you feel like you were in a classic, unproblematic, 90s shoujo manga. you could practically see the rose petals following him around whenever he’s with you.

it wouldn’t matter whether he recognizes his feelings or not or if he acts on them; no matter what, you’re going to feel special and wanted.

often, he would find you perusing the halls and randomly start a conversation. he would tell you about the differences between darwick and the uk campus, trying to find a reason to talk just so you wouldn’t leave. sometimes he finds himself purposely getting lost to spend just a couple of extra minutes with you.

he probably has some phone tracking app on you just in case something bad happens. of course, he would manipulate it in his favor—nothing bad, truly just misguided—so he could “accidentally” bump into you.

he’d probably subconsciously check his phone every few minutes hoping you texted him or anything. if you hadn’t seen him in a while due to being stuck at other houses for missions, he would use his favorite app at the moment to send a ‘stay safe!’ message for you to respond to and tell him how it’s going.

when you meet up, whether it be after a class or a whole week, he would, of course, grab your bags and make sure you're feeling alright. your feet hurt? here, get on his back. you have a migraine? here, have some medicine and a nice head massage.

what kind of gentleman would he be if he didn’t give his friends the courtesy of being comfortable?

he would take you to sho’s food truck, ren’s job, the cafeteria, or anywhere to have an excuse to spend more time with you (same goes for subaru).

100% a gentleman and doesn’t believe in splitting the tab 50/50. he invited you and you took the time out of your busy schedule to meet up with him.

yeah, there’s no way you're pitching in even a cent. he has money and he isn’t afraid to spend it on you.

he will open the doors for you and wait with bated breath as you walk by, thanking him each and every time.

he will treat you how you should be treated. he believes in the golden rule of treating others how you would like to be treated or how they would treat you, and you’ve shown him nothing but kindness. all he can do now is return the favor of being his first friend at this new school.

at one point, when his feelings were developing, he took them to yuri. instead of realizing any feelings, he thought your curse might cause him heartburn, only to be met with the doctor shoving him out and telling him to figure out his feelings before wasting his time on sappy romance.

it's safe to say everyone but luca knows about his feelings for you.

when he did realize his feelings were more than platonic, he cranked up that gentleman's act by one thousand.

you know those classic suave princely characters? that’s him to a t. patient and caring all without acting like a father and instead a friend.

if you did date him, it could only work out. it would be like dating your best friend, but not in an incestuous friendship-type way. an actual budding romance, no strings attached, but true undeterred love.

he would wait until he had completely understood his feelings until trying to make “moves” on you. think of things he’s heard kaito say to girls he’s trying to flirt with. suffice to say it only made you laugh.

instead of forcing you to confess to him like the rest, he’d much rather stake his emotions on the line than yours. he just wants you to be happy, even if it comes in the form of rejection or love. as long as you’re happy, he’s happy, whether that be as friends or something more.

be prepared to just enjoy time with him. if you do or don’t romantically like him back, it doesn’t matter. no matter what, you’re just going to be genuinely happy.

even if he’s not the best at picking up signs or reading people, he’s still going to be making sure you’re enjoying yourself.

his brother has already disappeared; he needs to cherish every moment with you, even if it’s one-sided, as friends, or as lovers.

KAITO'S unofficial love language is making you watch movies to make you fall in love with him.

scary movies? you can cling onto him, squealing into his big, strong, herculean muscles. romcom? maybe that can get you in the mood to stare at his plump lips and share your very first kiss. action? maybe you two can try and replicate a scene and accidentally fall on top of him, staring into his deep cerulean orbs, realizing he was always the one for you, not luca.

he is the most unorganized and delusional of the frostheim boys.

he will probably plan a few minutes in advance and, if not, he will get in his head and forget how to talk to you.

the most he’ll plan ahead of time is explaining how you two need to sleep in a bed together because he can't sleep in a pew of the church.

see, once you two finish binging a movie series, he can sleep and spend the night at your place. walking back is just too hard and dangerous at night, you know? besides, just one night in your small bed wouldn’t hurt. it would just end up with you two waking up in each other's loving embrace, confessing your undying love for each other.

in reality, he was scared he would accidentally fart or kick you as you slept and was too afraid to even move. he slept on the corner of the bed while hiding under the covers, trying to ignore the creepy shadow-like monsters of your room.

he has tried and failed to change his personality to match every single one of your interests, only to fail miserably. trust me, if you post a lot, he will stalk you back to your first-ever post by accident and have a mental breakdown after liking the post.

he wouldn't speak to you for a week after the incident until you liked his first-ever post to somewhat ease the burn.

the same goes for if you see him zoning out on you. do not try and provoke him in the wild as he watches you walk from class to class. if you even make eye contact, he's shriveling up to a prune.

unfortunately, everyone in the area sees him making an effort to stalk you and endlessly teases him for it.

even if he doesn’t necessarily look it, he will protect you. if you even seem somewhat stressed with a mission, he will be running across campus to help you out, no matter what the other house says.

he wouldn’t be a lap dog for you, more so an eager friend. not in a hundred years will he let you be stalked or threatened if someone took an interest in you. not on a yandere level, just a worried friend who would steamroll someone if need be, even if he had to fight. he will suck it up for you.

hopefully, you are genuinely interested in ranting or are a master at tuning things or people out because this man is insane. he will tell you all about his day while saying nothing at the same time.

he will send you his entire for you page and count down the seconds from when he posted to when you liked it. god forbid you take a day or week because you’re busy. if a form of snapchat exists in darwick, your streak will be insane. literally, how you track the number of days you started at the school.

“you forgot to open one.”

[the-marigold-reception]

Mordecai Heller general relationship hcs?

It’s a very very slow burn

But it’s completely worth it

He needs time to adapt and learn to appreciate your quirks and habits

As we’ve discussed he shows very little PDA

He’s not a touchy guy (in public)

His love language is definitely quality time and maybe gift giving?

He strikes me as someone who would catch you staring at something longingly and then surprise you with it a couple weeks later

He does not and will not take you for granted- despite struggling to show it he really treasures your moments together

You definitely need unlimited patience in the relationship- sometimes he takes steps back when it comes to physical intimacy but other times he’ll take a big leap and initiate a hug from behind (he gets sentimental when he sees you cooking food for him)

He’s fully capable of memorising every little detail about your life and he does

If you made a quiz about your life you can bet all your money that he would know every single answer

E.G; What was (readers) favorite instrument to play when growing up?

“You didn’t play instruments growing up- you have however recently picked up the violin”

“… I haven’t even told you about that yet Mordecai”

He keeps a little hidden picture of you in a concealed pocket of his favorite suit jacket

He can be very romantic but alot of things are lost on him

He didn’t know why he should bring you flowers at first

“They die so quickly, it’s money wasted plus the hassle of watering them”

Then he does it (you looked sad) and he sees how much care you put into keeping them alive

Now you get new flowers every month

[cowboyfromh3ll]

Maybe some headcannons for some of the Van der linde boys with a overlyhyper girlfriend, whos also REALLY nosy?

HC for VDL Boys With A Hyper/Nosy Girlfriend Ft. Arthur Morgan, Charles Smith, John Marston, Dutch Van Der Linde

Arthur Morgan

He'd be surprised by your energy but would try to keep up regardless

Very protective but once he sees just how well you're able to handle yourself he'll bring you on jobs with him. Nothing too crazy though

Always tries to find things you can do to tucker yourself out

And if a job is one of them, he'll certainly bring you

Will take you on very long walks until your entire lower half is hurting

Finds it amusing how almost every night you come back to the tent you have a new bit of gossip you discovered and want to share

Chastises you for being nosy but he's pretty into it

Starts asking questions and genuinely gets invested

Sometimes he'll be falling asleep and you'll still be gossiping and recapping your day in extreme detail and all he can say in return is "mhm?" In that sleepy voice while trying to pay attention

Jokingly tells you that if you're so nosy you should go and sniff out a lead

Did not expect you to actually come back with a decent roster of leads

Charles Smith

Contrasts his reserved and quiet nature greatly

People often see the two of you sitting together while you ramble endlessly about your day and what you did

You can talk his ear off, and he's going to listen to every single thing you say and pays attention to every detail

If you ever think he's not listening to you he'll bring up a really obscure detail later, and it'll have you surprised

Neither encourages nor chastises your gossiping, but he'll definitely listen to that too

Similarly to your talkativeness, your hyperactivity is starkly different to his chillness

Doesn't actively go out of his way to tire you out, sort of lets you do that on your own

I can imagine him just standing there while you climb him and hang off his arms

Sometimes he'll be talking to you in a crowd and he'll look away for a second and lose you

Frantically searches for you and finds you chatting with some random as if you've known each other for years

John Marston

He is absolutely baffled by your energy levels

And just how much you talk?

Sometimes, he just stares at you in disbelief and isn't even processing everything you're saying

If you give him a pop quiz about everything you just said, his ass is failing

Often has to ask you to slow down or backtrack, which you do until you start speeding up again

Gets dragged along like a dog on a leash

Though to be honest the two of you should probably keep each other on leashes. Him to keep track of you, and you to drag him along.

Says you shouldn't be so involved or interested in other people's business

But as soon as you gasp and go "John guess what I found out today" HE IS SAT

Preps for you every morning by chugging coffee

Has probably at some point before you two dated said "Do you always talk this much?"

Dutch Van Der Linde

He's impressed by your energy and in a good way

But also in the way where he's like "Hm, how can I make use of this."

Definitely has told you to go out and get leads with your energy and was more than satisfied when you did

Thinks you're the perfect partner in crime

Probably hesitant to send you on dangerous missions but he knows you won't get your energy out any other way

You're like his sniffing hound

But you're definitely his top dog when it comes to getting leads

The most encouraging of your eccentric and nosy personality

Rewards your behavior with gifts and praise

He's probably very easily influenced by you since you bring him so many leads and such