#my hot take is that it was pretty lukewarm

[kaybaeisgay]

alright here we go…. these are my One Piece: Live Action thoughts and critiques now that i’ve finished binge watching the show!

overall rating is a 6.5/10 on a Netflix original scale with some episodes being below that and some being above. (EDIT: before you throw tomatoes pls know that i highly enjoyed it!!!!! just had some thoughts on how it could have been improved in my own humble opinion!!)

(spoilers under cut)

initial praises:

the FUCKING CAST. they are all so good!!!! i admittedly had low expectations for some characters prior to watching (i.e. shanks, mihawk, garp) due to how iconic and mysterious they are, but i feel like they all did a phenomenal job bringing these characters to life

THE STRAW HAT CHEMISTRY. from the second i saw the cast interviews, i knew they were gonna be perfect, but the core cast truly was brilliant together

BUGGY 🗣️🗣️🗣️ listen. i’ve always been a buggy denier…… i understood the Power of His Ponytail for others, but never really got it for myself. that being said…….. JEFF WARD POPPED OFF. imo buggy had potential to be either just okay or the worst part of the show. and jeff, my guy, you knocked it out of the fucking park

visuals!!!!! the practical set was beautiful, and the coloring was so perfect for how fantastical the one piece world is. it was really immersive and i was super impressed!

makeup and costumes were fabulous. i know people clowned arlong’s design from the trailers, but i always really liked it bc of its practical effects and watching his full performance in the show was icing on the cake. the fishmen all looked incredible! absolutely spot on from the costume and makeup departments

drunk usopp???? need it like i need air

suave but unpervy sanji???? please, oda, bring him back i BEG

luffy’s curly hair 😭

zoro and nami’s interactions?? chef’s kiss. loved how they made each other work for their trust and friendship

all the little cameos to diff characters in wanted posters

the cgi they did use looked so fucking flawless. like the sea king and buggy’s devil fruit? it was truly a spectacle

the bad and the ugly:

the writing. i have to say, while i thought some parts were fine, i thought other aspects of the writing (namely the parts NOT written by oda) were lacking and stereotypical. it seemed like there was a real need in the writers room to spell everything out for the audience about the one piece world, when i really don’t think that is necessary. part of the charm is how whimsical the world is and how unhurried the east blue beginning arc felt. and they inserted a lot of weird bullshit i felt didn’t fit the original story

on that same note: the straw hat bonding was weak imo. i am a nami-stan to the day i die, but i really felt like they used her character to override the developments between luffy and the other straw hats. i think having nami present in axe-hand morgan’s base with luffy/zoro immediately discredited the initial bond that the two boys were supposed to have. i get why they did it, and i never thought i’d see the day where i wouldn’t want to see more nami, but i feel like her presence during that moment, her convo with kaya, and her staying for baratie really stole important bonding moments from luffy and each of the boys.

similar to that: luffy’s characterization. (note: i adore iñaki! this has nothing to do with him, just how the writers wrote luffy.) i don’t think the writers knew how to approach writing luffy or even zoro for that matter—which, to be fair, they are difficult characters to write. but i think they got very focused on trying to explain or make sense of luffy for the viewers when i truly think the appeal to pre-time skip op is how both the audience and the straw hat crew are constantly learning more and more about who luffy is through his actions. and in tandem, they didn’t know how to flesh out luffy and zoro’s relationship. where animanga luffy and zoro are bonded because they innately seem to just get one another, i think the LA writers didn’t trust that either their script or the actors portraying them could get that across as well without having them literally spell it out for us. and in turn, i think it really watered down their connection when that bond should be one of the absolute strongest.

okay i’m beginning to realize that all my critiques have to do with writing

like, they didn’t show us how much each village comes to love the straw hats???? which is a HUGE part of why we and everyone in the world adores them??????????

little (and big) things about the characters that got lost in the LA: zoro’s sense of humor, usopp’s love of bugs (seriously, he wouldn’t be spooked by a damn spiderweb, cmon), nami being a weather prodigy, usopp being a sniping prodigy, bellemere and nojiko having hope bc infant nami was laughing, luffy only doing stuff bc he wants to, luffy and zoro not caring about the details of nami’s history, sanji bonding w luffy bc he was strong and kind and joining because luffy asked him to, helmeppo’s falling out w his father (like if you’re gonna put so much of him in there at least set up his backstory correctly???), arlong seeing zoro’s wound from mihawk, arlong park walk???!, and so many other things honestly…..

in general, the whimsy of the world was lacking. so much of what sets one piece (especially at the beginning) apart from other shows is how much fun it is. i get that netflix wanted to netflixify this world, but that’s not why we fell in love w the show. we want to see them goofing off, we want to see all the silly, ridiculous jokes. we want the hilarity of it all and how each character (no matter how cool) is still subject to being a fool at times. usopp’s character really brought a lot of life to the show after he was introduced, which i am infinitely grateful for, but i think the writers forgot the core of the show: the fun of it all.

OH. and here is my biggest gripe of them all……. THE FUCKING MARINES. like holy shit, i didn’t realize i was watching a fucking military propo??? i understand they wanted to make koby more relevant for the story but fuck, did we really need fifteen minutes every episode dedicated to the marines???? i loved koby and garp’s actors, but all the focus on them (WHEN THEY ARENT EVEN IN THE EAST BLUE MUCH AT ALL) really soured me on their characters tbh. they robbed us of so much time that could have been spent on any of the above issues listed just for the sake of adding fish-eye-lens close-ups of them shootin’ the shit with each other. it’s like they didn’t want new viewers becoming unsympathetic to the fucking military even tho oda specifically wrote marines as antagonists lmao. truly, i think all the issues i had w the show could have been fixed if they simply didn’t make so much of it about garp and koby.

along w that thought: someone—anyone—please tell me why they needed a garp and luffy confrontation in this first fucking season. please, help me understand. because imo, that was the most atrocious thing they could have done. they literally cut out KEY PARTS to the arlong park arc just to make room for it. the arlong park bit was so badly fumbled imo. making nojiko and the villagers actually hate nami instead of pretending to??? TOMATO TOMATO TOMATO. saying nami asked to join arlong instead of him forcing her to?? FUCKING AWFUL. having luffy chase nojiko down for the story instead of his “i don’t need to know it, i just need her to rely on us”???!!!! fine, go ahead and erase a crucial part of his character. and don’t even get me started on how garp’s moment completely replaced nami’s iconic “goodbye” to coco village and genzo telling luffy not to make her cry. seriously, i could go on for hours about those episodes alone.

additionally, they made the whole “luffy didn’t tell us about his grandpa being a marine” thing like an issue in the crew when that is not at all how it should have gone. the entire point of garps original intro as luffy’s grandpa in animanga is that we AND the straw hats have spent enough time with luffy to understand that he doesn’t say more than what needs to be said. while we were all surprised, no one (not even his crew) are upset about him withholding that. so to introduce garp so early in the plot and then make it a whole moment of dissent for the crew is fucked up and pointless.

i really think they only added so much of the marines because they were worried there weren’t enough “stakes” to push luffy and the crew forward in the narrative, but that is utter bullshit because the ENTIRE point of the east blue arc is that it’s BEFORE luffy ever has a bounty—before he ever is being truly chased—so EVERYTHING he does is simply for the pure sake that he WANTS TO. and that is precisely why each crew member loves him. that’s why WE love him.

last but not least: where tf was hatchan??? ☹️

overall, my problem with the LA so far is that i feel as if the writer’s don’t have a full grasp on the straw hats, and while they were writing the story, things that should’ve been central to their personas got left behind. it felt like since they didn’t feel like they understood luffy as a character, they tried to overcompensate by making him into something he isn’t.

the outline for everything was there and i think it was still a very fun watch, but im left longing for the magic and catharsis of the original story. in the end, it was entertaining but really just made me want to rewatch the anime to get the full effect of oda’s wonderful storytelling

[blujayonthewing]

that post that was like 'the problem with most centaurs is that everyone makes the horse part too big' opened my eyes but also now that it's been pointed out I can't unsee it

[i-looove-dillydallying]

I’m a Rory Gilmore apologist primarily because she’s pretty and I stand by that

[screampied]

Small itty bitty req 😽😽😽 Vampire! Gojo who cums just from drinking her blood..? 🤕🤕🤕😸

vamp gojo getting a taste for the first time ★

◜ ❦◞ — warnings. fem! reader, vampire au / gojo, mentions of blōod, touch starved gojo, spıt, cowgirl, praise, premature ejaculatıon, biting, mdni.

you were one of his many weaknesses—disregarding the plethora of other vampire known things such as sunlight, garlic, or even stakes. you and your taste alone was enough to bring him to his knees. gojo’s entire body feels scorchingly hot the moment you cream down his cock. he’s still twitching from the inside, gentle honed claws piercing into your skin. “p- please,” he’d pant, pointed tips of his ears burning more and more tepid. a lukewarm breeze sets against his skin before he conceals his face into your neck. “m- my precious little . . human,” and you moan the moment his long, forked tongue licks a stripe near your neck. “i want more of you. please.”

there was a bit of a tremor in his voice - shaky. the more stripes he licked up your neck, the more he became addicted. the vampire’s cock was embed into you, feeling the sheer snug and warmth near the inside before his eyes roll back. with irregular breaths yanking from his lungs, he looks at you, a gentle nail scraping near your neck before he pouts. “can .. can i?”

he wants a taste,

as you’re taking your seat on his lap, it didn’t take you long to realize what he meant. gojo wanted to feed off of you. two broad hands of his grab onto your waist, pulling you close. body against body, skin against skin—your warmth was the only thing that made him pulse.

funnily enough, it’s known vampires don’t even have a pulsing heart, and yet you made him feel alive. it’s ironic.

his dick was still plugged into your gripping, gluey walls before you give him a sweet reply. “go ‘head toru, baby. get a taste.”

your voice,

it was such a treat to listen to, almost harmonic.

the way you spoke in such a pretty tune was enough to have him dump another load into you. and then another, then another.

the vampire lets off a needy moan at your answer, not hesitating to incise his chiseled, sharp fangs into the crook of your neck.

“mhm,” he whines, and you feel a bit of slippery saliva trickle its way near the edge of your neck. you were so tasty that it was enough to make him drool. as gojo licks it up, you hear a long sluuuurp and he’s making sure to savor your metallic taste. to him, you taste like candy.

and already,

he’s addicted. his tongue whisks itself against the growing bite marks and he whines again. pretty frosted lashes of his flutter as he’s relishing in your flavor. needless to say, you were simply drool worthy. “my s- sweet girl, hah, taste even better than i imagined.”

you stay still, remaining to sit on his lap. the base of his cock squishes down a bit the more your ass grinds against the weight. he groans, and the body heat that’s sticking against the two of you grows more heated. as he’s feeding, you can hear a little growl escape from his lips once you playfully try to move away. “mine, s- stay,” he grumbles, making sure to not suck away too much blood. the vampire was well aware of the precautions and didn’t wanna leave you too weak or lightheaded, regardless of how sweet you tasted. “hngh, ‘s good. ‘m gonna c- cum i think.”

“s- satoruuu,” you breathe, taking a moment to swallow and the only thing you ended of gulping down was your sweet, sweet pity.

you felt your cunt start to spasm sporadically, one hand gently wrapping around his throat as he’s collecting more of a taste. “thaaaat’s it, ‘s good. good boy, suck harder baby.”

a snowy wisp of a strand runs down his forehead before he pouts — pointed ears twitching at your praise.

good boy . .

a whine rips from his throat again, and already he can feel himself starting to thrust against you. sloppy thrusts but you still felt every inch rut its way into you. he was so eager, so feral. he couldn’t help it, if you kept teasing him this much he was going to stuff you full.

again, and again, and again.

“oh, you like when i call you that?” you peer up at the vampire, watching as he momentarily breaks away his lips from your neck. a cute fang of his pokes out underneath his bottom lip and there’s metaphoric heart eyes shimmering in his blown irises.

“y- yes,” he nods, a slight crack in his tone as you’re still happily straddling him. gojo’s face flushes deeply and a sharp gasp shortly follows. “ngh, say it again, please.”

leaning in to kiss the tip of his nose, his eyes ultimately widen into the size of saucers. “good boy, ‘toru.”

“f- fuck, woman,” he snarls under his breath, your touch alone able enough to harm him more than pungent garlic ever could.

gojo can’t help but crane your neck slightly to the right again with one hand. he moves it back to it’s original position before sinking his fangs into your neck again. once more, he feels the prodigious tang of saltiness coat against his forbidden buds that run against his tongue. you moan, tossing your head back in pleasure before feeling him starting to sniff you.

as if your taste wasn’t enough - your scent was just brutal.

you giggle at bit at the sensation of him getting off to your naturally sweet aroma. his dick was growing more aroused. its twitching multiplies and you feel every movement from the inside of your stingy walls. gojo’s whining gets louder, and before he knew it, the crown of his cock starts to vigorously thrash and thrash against your cunt. your walls were being greedy, you were barely even moving and yet, your gummy walls continue to hug him tight, never letting go.

because in the end, you didn’t wanna let go,

not now, not ever.

“c- cum, ‘m gonna cum,” he huffs, soft warm lips ghosting against the new bite marks that tattoo against your skin. he stares at his gift to you with the most lewd expression, eyes half lidded and all. feeling himself get more sheepish as each second passed, he whimpers. “i- oh, really gonna make me—”

and it’s a long pause.

it’s almost too long, radio silence and yet it was deadly. right before you could utter out a word, you feel a spurt of hotness ooze its way into your pussy. it’s slow and it’s slimy, coming out in thin velvety ropes. so much to where you feel it shoot into the very depths of your womb. gojo’s a mess, his whimpers reaching higher pitched volumes before he buries his face into your neck again.

shame overtook him—sharp nails of his gently graze against your hips as he’s holding you close, a milky ring around his base shortly painting around his fat base.

whenever he came, it was a lot. piles and piles of it, you weren’t even moving a muscle and you had him this weak. the finish came to him like a truck at full force, it was a constant ringing in his ears.

your hips buck and he grows quiet— his favorite part, listening to the final finishes. ripples of rapture overtake his body as he’s pouring his all into you, and he takes a moment to suck against your neck once more. your cunt squelched and his seed made sounds similar of its own. you mewl out a sweet sob, feeling his tongue flick against the few remnants of blood that were left near your neck before he sighs deeply.

not only was he pussy drunk but he was perhaps he was in love.

“i- i—” he murmurs, still having his face buried deep into your collarbone. gojo didn’t want you to move, he wanted you to stay. “more.”

“more what, ‘toru?” you whisper, still feeling him dump such a heavy amount of cum into you as if it was nothing. it was sticky, gluing against the entrance of your pussy as if it was some kind of adhesive. it was a mess— you were filled, a few strings of cum gluing against your opening, you feel the warmth coat against the outside and the inside. you gingerly pull his head up to look at you and the vampire leans into your gentle, familiar touch. “mm?”

“more of you,” he grumbles, and you let off a gasp once he makes you lie back, spreading your legs.

the vampire strums a soft padded thumb against your pulsating clit that had wads of cum spilling out in nice clumps before he leans down. gojo groans, lapping his own flavor up with his tongue before flickering his pretty cerulean eyes back up at you. giving your pussy a kiss, crooked sly smile forming on his reddened glossed lips. “not done, wanna bite her next.”

and you gulp, chest heaving in and out— you leer down at gojo and realize he was staring straight at your sopping wet cunt.

[lymtw]

Aftercare with Toji, where after all the roughness and manhandling is over with, he can't take his eyes off of you. All he cares about is making sure that you're not in excruciating pain, yet he hasn't been able to say a word for the past five minutes. You've pressed so many tender kisses to his face and expressed that you're okay enough times to him, but he can't seem to drop the smallest, lingering coil of guilt he feels at the sight of your scuffed up body. You look like you fought off a bear and ripped octopus tentacles off your skin—simultaneously, with all the scratches, bruises, and hickeys that littered you from your jaw to your ankles.

"Quit staring," you say, bringing your knees up and crossing your arms, your hands gripping your biceps.

"Nah- baby..." he finally says, softly, like he's quickly trying to justify the gaze he had set on you. "Come here."

Toji makes quick work of crushing this wave of insecurity that threatens your peace. He knows what you just endured was not the softest experience, and that you practically let him—a man capable of showing the aggression of a pack of wolves, devour you. Really, he did not hold back at all.

You slide down the bed and pull the covers over your body, laying your head on his chest with an arm thrown over his midsection. He pulls you close with an arm wrapped around your shoulder, and kisses the top of your head. "You know I love you, right, mama?"

"Mhm," you hum. Minutes ago you would have thought those words were a cruel joke being played on you with the way he gripped onto you like he wanted it to hurt.

"Wasn't trying to hurt your feelings by staring at you like that. Just did a lot of damage, this time, and it looks like it hurts... a lot."

"I'm fine," you repeat, for the nth time. You look up at him, briefly, sparing a smile before resting your cheek on his chest again. "A hot shower will melt it all away, I promise," you mumble.

He brushes over one of the many stains he left on the side of your neck. "My little trooper," he sighs, very much relaxed by your side. "You know i'd be proud even if you told me you were hurting." He knows it'll take more than a shower to get all these new semipermanent tattoos off your pretty skin, but for the sake of not making you feel small, again, he shuts up about it.

"I know," you assure. "I just don't wanna burden you. You're probably just as tired, if not more."

"What do you need?"

You lift your head again and look at him, confusion filling out your features. "You heard me, didn't you? I can take care of myself."

"I know that, and I don't doubt it for a second, but you're really gonna reject me?" He hisses, dramatically clutching his chest. "Damn, mama, just like that?"

"Well, no. Of course not-"

"Right. Of course not," he says, with that horrible tendency he has of cutting you off when the situation benefits you. "Gonna ask you one more time, and if you don't answer, i'm just gonna do what I want for you. What do you need?"

You had to think about it for a minute, about how you wanted him to help you. Independence shone through your thoughts. Everything he could help you with, you could also do alone. You didn't want to be needy.

"Five..." He's timing you, now. "Four..." The countdown has your brain scrambling to pick something. Anything, but you're blanking, losing second by second the already little time you were gifted. "Three... it shouldn't be this hard," he teases, a smirk on his face.

"I don't know, um."

"Two... you're gonna lose the option of telling me what to do, doll."

"No- I don't know."

"One." The countdown ends. "Alright," he groans, pulling you up with him as he sits up. "Let's go."

–

Sure enough, once the lukewarm water hit your skin, you gained a burst of energy. You made the washing of your body an amusing, yet tedious task for Toji. With all your little excitement fueled dances and laughter, what should have been a ten minute session turned into a twenty minute one.

"Doll, turn around. Let me get your back," Toji says, holding back a grin at the sight of you trying to soothe the burning sensation you feel in your nose after inhaling water.

You turn your back to him, before jovially turning to face him again. "Joking, joking," you say, when you catch his lidded eyes. You quickly turn your back to him, again, with giggles slipping past your lips.

He sighs, unable to hold back the gentle curl of his lips any longer. "What am I gonna do with you?" He lathers you from the nape of your neck to your lower back, with soap. The contrast of the white foam and the darkened stains on your skin, were enough to have him thinking about what ended just a little over half an hour ago. There wasn't a spot on you that didn't have some mark of his on it. Your shoulder blades and spine were mottled with stains of his lips, and your hips had opaque fingerprints on them.

You winced and took a step forward, away from Toji's touch, successfully pulling him out of his zoned out state. "You're scrubbing the scratches too hard," you say, turning to him while running your hands over the tender skin.

"Shit," he gently pulls you back and turns your back to him again, "sorry, princess." A few soothing kisses are pressed into the strikes, enough of them to make you forget that it even stung in the first place. He makes sure his mind stays out of the gutter, at least until he's done washing you, so that he doesn't hurt you again.

After showering, you stayed in bed while Toji went to the kitchen to make some tea for you. He did this for you after every night of intimacy, to expedite the betterment of your exhausted throat. He also knows of the calming properties that ease you into slumber. He wants nothing more than for you to sleep off the soreness your body retains.

"There you go, baby. I know you don't like it, but it'll make your throat feel better, so you have to drink the whole thing." He settles down next to you, on his side of the bed and watches you sip on the steaming hot drink.

The familiar scrunch of your nose appears at the taste that hits your taste buds, a sight that Toji has started looking forward to. "I hate the flavor just a little more every time I drink it. Oh well," you say, taking another sip, ignoring the scalding heat that embraces your tongue.

"I know. It sucks," he says, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Hopefully, next time we choose correctly and get something you'll like."

You set the mug down on the nightstand and turn to him. With warm hands, you cup his cheeks and tilt his head up slightly.

"What?" He asks, his eyes directed towards you.

Your smile evolves into a short giggle as you stare at one pinpointed spot on the side of his neck. "I got you, too. Right..." you drag a finger down his neck, gently pressing on the dark spot you left on him. "...here."

His hand tracks your touch and replaces it with his own, feeling the mark. "Damn right, you did. You got me, baby," he says through a grin. "My turn?"

You sigh, with faux irritation. "Fiiine."

"Let's see..." He cups your cheeks the way you did his. "I got this whole area here." His thumb brushes over your jawline, dragging beneath it to where the marks end. "Then there's this entire patch right here." He turns your head, exposing the reddish-purple splotches on the side of your neck to the light. His eyes trace the slope that leads to your shoulder, spotting the marks that remain visible beneath the collar of your shirt. He coordinates his touch with his sight, dragging his fingers over your delicate skin. "Right here," he says, after pulling the collar of your shirt down your shoulder, revealing more of his marks.

"Okay, okay. You win," you say fixing your shirt, covering up again.

"There's one right there," he continues, tapping the column of your neck. "Some more there," his finger glides over your left collarbone.

"Toji, I swear, if you point out one more, i'm gonna bite your finger off."

He stares at you silently, the corners of his lips twitching as you watch him, intently. After a few seconds, he slowly starts directing his finger towards a mark on your chest. Once he makes contact with your skin, he gently presses on the smear of color that marks it, still holding eye contact with you. "Here, too."

You swat his hand away from you, and huff. "Why did I even try to threaten you? You want me to bite your finger off, huh?"

"Not in the slightest. I just knew you weren't actually gonna do it, so I pushed it."

You cross your arms. "Whatever. I'm just gonna put a hoodie on so you can't look at them anymore."

"Woah, baby, put down the knife," he says, hands up in playful surrender. "No need to take drastic measures over this. Don't hide all my hard work."

"Hard work," you mutter, an incredulous scoff following.

Toji's gaze falls on your lips. "You're pouting like you wanna be kissed," he teases.

"And you're... you're being annoying," you say, covering your mouth with your hand, concealing the involuntary lift of your lips.

"Yeah, but you still want me to kiss you," he says, with a sly, knowing smirk on his face. "Look at you. Look at that blush. Even your knuckles are red, doll."

"Oh my god..." you groan with embarrassment. You use both hands to cover your entire face, now.

He chuckles, pulling you into his arms. "You're so pretty, ma. A total work of art." His hands have never gotten lost on you, but for now, in any way he holds you, he'll be able to see the trails his lips left behind.

"Stop..." you mumble, smiling softly at the sweetness poured into his words.

"You look mine, with all these marks," he says, pulling down the collar of your shirt a little, to see the blots of color that appear at the start of your spine.

"Shut up," you say, blushing furiously against his chest.

"Sounds like you still want that kiss, huh?"

"Not anymore," you say, lifting your gaze to meet his. The look in your eyes betrays every ounce of your denial. Toji can very clearly tell that you're lying.

"Those rosy cheeks are saying something else," he says, grinning. "Damn, look at those pretty lips. They're ready for me."

"If you want to kiss me, just say so," you chide, lightheartedly.

"I'm gonna kiss you so hard, doll," he says, cupping your cheeks again. "Your lips lack a little more of me."

[blissfullsvn]

between the lines

pairing. academic rival!taesan x reader genre. fluff word count. 1.3k warnings. reader is sick, reader calls taesan a prick, he is kinda a prick (but fluff triumphs all 🙏) a/n. it's necessary for their dynamic but no actual rivalry is emphasized here... (for my fellow academic rivals-to-lovers enthusiasts... ill cook up sth soon) pt.2 | masterlist

taesan is flustered.

you and taesan had never really had an amicable relationship. to put it into perspective, you'd rather spend hours editing the mess of a report your equally-messy groupmates wrote, than spend hours working together with han taesan—the student well-known for submitting flawless and only flawless pieces of work.

it wasn't always like this. of course it wasn't. who in their right mind would prefer to add 'babysitting adults' onto their plate that's already filled to the brim, instead of making their life easier by grouping with an academic weapon?

but working with han taesan is not for everyone.

actually, scratch that. working with han taesan is not for you.

you don't know what you did, but you're almost 100% sure he has a personal vendetta against you. for such a pretty face, his mouth only spits out the nastiest of things, at least to you.

actually, scratch that again. han taesan only does that to you.

because you shared all the core modules with him, you had foolishly decided to group up with him for all the assignments you had in your first semester of university. to put it simply, that was probably the worst decision you’d made in your life.

why? for every idea you gave, he'd step over with another. for every suggestion you offered, he'd pinpoint every aspect to shut it down. sure, he may have had better ideas, but you didn't think it was necessary to stomp at your input so readily. you definitely didn't think it was necessary to smirk like he'd won a battle after every instance.

you thought you'd be able to escape his belittling remarks and irritating smugness after that one semester, but why did he have to share the same plans as you as well? the day you stepped into the student council office and saw him sitting in the seat next to yours, you already felt dread clawing at you.

fast forward to the present, you're both running for student president for the next year. you had already lost the role of vice president to him this year, so you're determined to not let him pick at you again. not that he could even if he wanted to, because you practically transform into an iron shield whenever he enters your vision (which is more times than you'd liked, considering you share the same environment with him everywhere. he seems to enjoy this, though).

you've been preparing diligently for your student president pitch, but that's also on top of having 5 tight assignment deadlines and planning the biannual festival happening in the next month. for the past weeks, the student council office had turned into your place to work, eat, and even sleep, though the last was never intentional.

today, again, you're sitting at your desk, your laptop opened in front of you, but it’s unlike usual—a cup of hot-turned-lukewarm tea next to you, a pile of tissues scattered around the table, an oversized hoodie draped over your frame, your sniffles echoing across the empty room, and your body which felt heavier than usual.

you've tried your hardest fighting the urge to fall asleep, the dimness of the room not helping, but when the clock struck 3, you decide to give yourself mercy and lean forward, resting your head on your arms over the table. it's far from comfortable; your back is aching, your neck is sore, your nose is uncooperative, and the screech of the door is hurting your head.

you open your eyes briefly at the intruder by the door. they're frozen for a beat, as if surprised to see you there, then they’re tilting their head in what seems to be confusion. soon, they're taking small steps towards you. you should be alarmed, but your defenses have shut down from the fatigue, so all you can think is that if you die, you hope you die a climactic death.

the intruder, thankfully, does not appear to have any intent of killing you. they are, however, intent on disturbing you.

“y/n?” there's a soft tap on your shoulder. you squint, trying to decipher the blurry face in front of you before deciding against it. your act of protest comes out as a small whine that unintentionally escapes the back of your dry throat.

the figure stands there in shock, hand hovering your back. they blink a few times, as if trying to register what they just heard, before they decide to squat next to you, patting your shoulder again.

“y/n? don't sleep here.” the voice is familiar, but uncharacteristically soft. and fond. why is it fond?

you open your eyes again. seeing han taesan mere inches away from your face is something you'd never expect, but you're too tired to even be shocked. instead, you blink slowly, as if you're a newborn reacting to stimuli you've never experienced before.

“han taesan,” you mumble against your arm. your voice comes out nasally from your cold and as a result, more whiny than usual.

“y–yes?” he ignores the stutter and moves his hand to brush away the strands of hair covering your face. it comes so naturally that he freezes when he realises and quickly pulls his hand back to himself.

“prick.” you shut your eyes as you say this, missing the widening of his eyes. “annoying.”

he frowns, “i'm annoying?”

“very.” you don't miss a beat to reply. “why do i have to see you everywhere . . . .” you trail off, your voice decreasing in volume as you speak.

taesan is silent for a few moments, during which the only sounds that can be heard are the tick-tock of the clock and the whirs of the air conditioner. he takes one glance at your hoodie and the tissues around you before promptly turning off the AC.

“fine,” he huffs as he stands up. “i’ll be annoying for a bit more.” he taps your shoulder again. “go home. you can't sleep here. it's so late.”

the deprivation of sleep is getting to you, because your immediate response to him is to let out another whine that would immediately shatter your image of the cool senior and president-to-be if anyone heard you.

which, of course, brings us back to the first line.

taesan is flustered.

he's never seen you this… babyish before. ever since the first semester, all you would entertain him with were glares, furrowed eyebrows, and the occasional roll of your eyes if you were really salty. you had never been this defenseless around him, to which he feels something tug at his chest.

he stretches his lips into a line and squats down again. “what do you want me to do then?” his voice is soft. too soft. “i’m not letting you sleep overnight here.”

you slowly open your eyes, sniffling as you look at him in disbelief. “if you're not willing to carry me home, just go.” you shut your eyes again.

it's silent once again. at this, you dig your face deeper into your arms, having zero expectations. you furrow your eyebrows slightly when you hear shuffles above you, followed by the clash of stationeries, the crackle of the plastic bag used as your trash bin, the sudden cease of the whirring of your laptop fan, and finally the sound of a zipper.

you open your eyes in time to see taesan cupping your face in one hand and pulling your arm with the other to make you sit up. you let yourself be handled without evident resistance, though your confusion is blatant. once he sees that you're up, he quickly squats down in front of you, back facing you.

“climb up. this annoying prick will carry you home.”

a/n. this may or may not be insanely self-indulgent due to a cold i may or may not have. i also may or may not have thoughts about a pt. 2. (edit: pt. 2 is out!)

anw, first post! just fitting for it to be about han taesan bcs this man (read: bnd as a whole) has been living in my brain for the past month (case in point: me literally writing this note at 3am when my headache is killing me).

i hope this was as enjoyable to read as it was for me to write <3

© blissfullsvn 2024. All Rights Reserved.

[glitchfiles]

get smart. [ljn]

pairing ⋆ bf!jeno x reader

word count ⋆ 1.8k+

warnings ⋆ SMUT MINORS DNI!, soft -> hard dom!jeno, desk sex, degradation, begging, nipple play, hair-pulling, spanking, finger-sucking, facial, …

note ⋆ i got new glasses and thought of this... nothing else to say...

“god, why did i get these?” you sigh, pushing your new glasses up your nose bridge as you scrutinise your appearance in the mirror. 

“what’s the matter, baby?” jeno interrupts your little pity party by lacing his arms around your waist.

“what do you think?” he takes a moment to evaluate your new look.

“they look… okay.” is all he says, with a shrug. 

“just okay?” you raise an eyebrow, unsatisfied by his lukewarm answer. he may as well have told you that you look like shit. “they make me look like a secretary.”

“i guess…” he starts but soon realises that he’s made a very grave mistake.

“you’re not supposed to agree!” you try to nudge his arms off, but he tightens his hold.

“but like in a good way, though!” he rushes to calm you down, the struggle quickly stops when he drops his head closer to your ear, “like a sexy, hot one?”

“nice save.” you roll your eyes, sulking with your crossing your arms.

“c’mon, if you were my secretary, i wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you.” his voice drops an octave as he squeezes you closer. the warmth of his embrace and his breath against your neck has heat creeping over you, but you still attempt to act cold with him.

“i’d bend you over my desk every fucking day.” his lips ghost your earlobe before laying a kiss on your jaw. he looks up into your eyes through the mirror, eyes dark with lust, and coos into your ear, “should i show you how pretty i think they look on you?” 

you nod your head, fighting back a smile; he starts laying soft kisses along your neck, hands coming up to grope over your body. they slither under your oversized shirt, cupping your bare tits.

“take it off for me,” he removes your glasses, holding them as you tug your shirt over your head, leaving you in just your panties until he carefully places them back on your face. “so sexy,” he groans. the sight of you has his tongue swiping across his lower lip, hands trailing up from your curves to wrap around your body again. 

he begins to knead at your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples teasingly, making you mewl. your head lolls back against him, and he takes the opportunity to graze his teeth against your neck, drawing more sounds out of you. the feeling of him nipping at your neck combined with him playing with your chest has you reeling.

“turn around for me, baby.” you turn to face him, your eyes lock for a second, and then his lips smash against yours. instinctively, your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him in deeper as his tongue slides over yours. 

his hips cant forward as he lets out a moan into your mouth, growing bulge grinding against you. he pulls away, biting at your lower lip. the hazy expression on your face makes him smirk, dazed and waiting for what he does next. 

“feel what you do to me,” his fingers slip under the waistband of your panties, digging into your hip as he presses his centre further into you. he presses his lips against yours again but only briefly, criminally so, but you can’t complain as he brings a hand between your thighs. a finger glides over your core, jeno lets out a chuckle as your hips jerk forward impatiently. 

“baby, please.” you huff as he withdraws his hand.

“isn’t it ‘sir’ to you?” jeno teases, while pushing your glasses up your nose mockingly.

“i’m not letting you roleplay being my boss, jeno.” you scoff at your ridiculous boyfriend. “just shut up and fuck me, you perv.” you whine, rushing to take matters into your own hands, haphazardly working at the drawstring of his sweats. 

“since when did you tell me what to do?” he tuts, swatting your hands away, “you want it? then go ahead, bend over and beg for it.” he nods his head in the direction of his desk to the left of him.

“thought you said you’d bend me over it.” you challenge him, butterflies fill your stomach as his eyes narrow, making you feel small as they bore into you. 

jeno could be the sweetest man on earth if you behaved, but you weren’t quite in the mood for that today; if you wanted to get nasty, he was more than happy to do so.

your breath catches in your throat as his hand approaches it, delicately wrapping around.

the sight of his jaw clenching almost makes your heart beat out of your chest. you feel yourself become light-headed as the web of veins on his upper body becomes more prominent as he tries to hold himself back a little longer; the menacing aura emanating from his makes your knees grow weak. your teeth sink into your lower lip, and you can’t stop your thighs from pressing together.

“and here i was trying to be nice, got some new glasses and you think you’re clever now.” he chuckles, but his expression hardens as his hand slips to the back of your head and firmly seizes hold of your hair. a whimper slips out of your lips as he cranes your head back. 

"don't get smart with me, slut." he spits out before dragging you to the other side of the room with ease.

he no-so-gently guides you to stand in front of his desk; he forces you to arch for him by digging his thumbs into your lower back. your forearms come up to support your weight as he lays himself over you, caging you between his body and the table.

“if i tell you to bend over, you fucking do it. understand?” his nose brushes against your cheek as he snarls into your ear, leaving it there as he waits for a response that doesn’t come. “i asked if you understand, slut.” he punctuates the sentence with a slap against your ass. 

“fuck! yes!” your head droops as you yelp.

“wasn’t so hard, was it?” he stands up straight.

“no,” you reply instantly this time, hoping your obedience will grant you mercy; you think maybe you’re in the clear as he rips your panties down your legs, leaving them to hang at your knees - not caring whether you kick them off or not, which you do. but it doesn’t; he slaps you again, making you gasp out. his hand smooths over the stinging skin, then moves between your legs, fingers spreading your lips open.

“like it when i boss you around, huh? dirty girl…” digits ghost along your slit to be pleasantly greeted by sticky arousal - his roughness evidently having had quite the effect on you; this wasn’t even the half of it, you knew that well.

he replaces his fingers with the tip of his cock, thrusting up to brush it against your clit. your hips keen back in need.

“tell me how bad you want it.” jeno groans, pushing his hips forward as your own comeback, coating his cock with your wetness. 

“please, i’ll be so good for you.” your mouth runs on its own. the feeling of him between your folds drives you towards the verge of insanity. “need it so bad, please fill me all the way up.”

there’s no hiding the way he twitches at the sound of your pleas; as much as he wanted to torment you further as punishment for your bratty behaviour, he needed you just as much. he quickly pushes into you, burrowing himself deep despite how tightly your walls tense around the thick intrusion.

“thank you,” you whine as you feel his balls press against the backs of your thighs.

nails dig into your hips as he rears back and jerks into you; your eyes screw shut as you struggle to adjust to his size. 

“sucking me in so deep, baby.” he muses, spreading your ass cheeks apart to watch the way your cunt grips around him with each drag intently. “love getting split open by this big dick, yeah?”

“god, i love it! i love your cock so fucking much, please don’t stop.” you start meeting his thrusts, reaching a hand back, desperately trying to pull him in harder. he catches your wrist, pinning it behind your back. 

“such a greedy slut,” he slows down, grinding his cock into you even deeper and making your mouth fall wide open as he brushes against a spot that makes you see stars. you have no time to recover before he starts hammering into you; the room fills with the sound of choked moans, skin against skin and the slick sound of him stretching your cunt. 

his free hand skims over your cheek before he inserts his middle and index fingers into your mouth. you can’t help but swirl your tongue around them, he grunts at the feeling of it, strengthening his grasp on your wrist.

“yes, yes, oh shit! right there, baby!” your voice comes out garbled as you drool over his fingers, wet strings dripping off your chin and landing on the wood below. 

“gripping me so tight, gonna cum? fuck- feels so good.” he bounces you on his on and off of his cock like you’re a toy, using your arm as leverage. you can only ball your hands into fists, nails cutting into your palms, as he pummels you closer and closer to release.

“‘s too much, i-i-” your eyes roll to the back of your head as you cry out, back arching painfully as your legs tremble beneath you as you gush all over his cock. he can only manage a few more thrusts, your warm, convulsing walls doing their best to coax his load out of him, but he has other plans. 

just as you feel yourself about to crumble flat onto the desk, jeno sharply takes ahold of your hair once again, bringing you to kneel on the floor. long, spit-covered fingers wrap around his cum-soaked cock, tugging swiftly at it in front of your face. his grip on your locks tightens as his head falls forward.

“oh f-uck,” he shudders, desperately chasing release. “look at me, that’s it.” 

you lock eyes with him, batting your eyelashes up at him expectantly. his rising moans become contagious - you can’t help but mirror them. the moment your mouth falls open, tongue poking out, and you begin to bounce on your knees in anticipation is when he loses it. 

“gonna cum, gonna-” he can’t look anywhere but your face as thick ropes of cum land on it. most of the fluid lands on your brand-new spectacles, just as he wanted.

“look even prettier with my cum all over your glasses.” he breathes heavily while wringing the last few drops of cum out of his cock, before slapping it against your cheek, smearing the gooey strings over your lips. 

“i hope you know how to clean cum off glasses well.” the realisation of how gross what you had just let him do was hit you like a ton of bricks. 

“don’t worry baby, i’m an expert.” he wiggles his eyebrows at you. reminding you that he too wore glasses at one point in his life…

“of course, you are… freak.” you shudder thinking about the experiences that brought about such expertise.

★ thanks for reading! i have another fic done and coming soon!! in the mean time, feedback and requests in my inbox would be greatly appreciated <;3

© glitchfiles

[jolapeno]

take you to the hilltop, and tell you you're pretty

francisco morales x f!reader | my frankie masterlist

summary: you book a guided hike tour for one when on your trip, not at all expecting your guide to be so damn hot.

warnings: just fluff. hike guide!frankie. flirting. questionable preparation for a hike from you. wordcount: 2.8k an: written for @secretelephanttattoo's secret springs from the spin-that-wheel. i know nothing about nature or hiking, so, Vans would also be what i would wear.

You swear it should be illegal to be up at this time.

The alarm rudely yanks you from dreamy sleep, dragging you out of warm bedsheets and onto the cold wooden hotel floor before you groggily find yourself under lukewarm water that washes away the last remnants of sleep. Stepping out of the steam somewhat more awake and fresh than you’d anticipated.

The walk to meet him, though, is still a struggle.

Your overfilled water bottle sloshing around in your bag, likely flattening your store-bought sandwiches into pancakes as you turn from the cobbled street to the gravel parking lot, finding him—the guide from the photo on the website.

He’s waiting, leaning casually resting against the side of his truck, the dried mud flakes, dirt and dust, all standing out like badges of past expeditions.

Francisco, you hum to yourself. The name given to you on the email confirmation, along with the instructions and directions of where to meet.

Damn, he is cute. Cuter than the website has him looking—broader too.

You can’t help but smile when you approach, kicking at a stone, wincing from it and the bright morning light.

“Morning,” he calls out.

Squinting your eyes, you spot him lifting his aviators before he’s frowning, head tilting forward as though zooming—

“No.”

Snorting, you continue walking to him. “Good morning and nice to meet you too.”

“You can’t wear those.”

“Say it with more disgust why don’t you.”

Shaking his head, he scoffs again. “Where are your hiking boots?”

“Oh, those? They’re back at the hotel. Thought I’d wear these instead, make a blood vessel pop in your neck.”

“Do you know how far this hike is?”

Sliding your phone from your pocket, swiping up as the email illuminates, you smirk. “No. Because when you claim a hike guide voucher, it says all information related to your hike will be sent to you twenty-four hours ahead of your hike by your guide.”

His muttered curse proves he recalls as much. Removing his sunglasses, threading an arm through the collar of his t-shirt.

“You can’t do this walk in Vans.”

“Well, it’s all I have...”

Kicking off from his position, he shakes his head, opening the trunk of his truck, making more noises and emitting harsh sighs, before he’s holding a pair of boots and a small flask.

“Take them off.”

“Please.”

“Please.”

You narrow your eyes but comply, toeing off your shoe before pressing the back of the opposite, until you’re slipping out of one and he drops down to a crouched position as he hands you the flask. No words, no gesture, just a silent command as your hand snakes around the handle.

For his brutish movements with the flask, he’s surprisingly careful, cautious, with your feet. More than you’d have expected. Meticulous, easing, taking your ankle gently and sliding it into the boot, the breeze blowing his curls—showcasing the slithers of silver that wraps inside the blends of browns.

“How’d you know my size?”

Snorting, Francisco looks up as he laces you, as he pulls on each and makes you almost jolt. “The paperwork you filled out.”

It’s your turn to remember.

Shame floods your cheeks, not knowing where to look to look before you stare at the ground. Choosing to take in the little pellets of dirt that make up more dirt, rather than linger on the way his hair curls around his ears—how one needs tucking more behind.

Swallowing, you shake your head. Focusing instead on the flask warming your hand, trying to fill the void of quiet with any sort of comment back, but they’re all lost on your tongue, vanished from the back of your throat before hearing him. All low-voiced, almost gruff—speaking into your laces—about how they keep backups, just in case, bad weather, losses—

“People lose their boots?”

Snorting, he looks up and somehow, unknowingly, you forget how to fucking breathe. Wearing the evidence of it too. Almost parading that you’re so single that a mere five-minute interaction has you almost ready to declare this a date only for him to then fuck with your emotions even more by smiling.

The soft kind that spreads into his eyes and makes them warmer—make his eyes more doe-eyed, round, all warm brown with flecks of caramel.

“Be surprised on some of these walks.”

Now, he’s tapping your booted foot, moving to the other, and you’re just watching. Ogling, admiring. Your tongue thickens in your head as you curse the gift voucher, as you both love and loathe that you’re ridiculously single because you’re out of practice.

“Ready?”

Nodding, you pull yourself from your thoughts, offering him the flask.

“It’s for you.”

“Oh.”

Picking up his bag from close to his tyre, he shoots you a smile. “It’s an early one. Thought you might appreciate the extra helping hand.”

Then he shrugs. As though the act is nothing, almost meaningless.

“Come on,” he says, snapping the clasp on his bag over his chest—somehow making himself appear even more broad than you know it is.

You have to admit, the view is pretty—and you don’t just mean him.

The landscape is breathtaking, a thing you almost admit when the two of you come to a stop to eat. But, then you find him staring, watching, as though seeing it through your eyes is a thing he both craves and needs.

Somehow, even with how good the hike has been, you don’t wish to relent that just yet. Don’t wish to let him know he was right, that your earlier grumbling about nature just not being for you had very much vanished now you could appreciate it like this.

Francisco, or Frankie, is funny.

Sometimes not always obviously, more in a dry way that takes you a second before a scoff merges with a breath when you try to keep up with him. Drips and drops of him slipping out as you purge him for information, weaving and needling him until he cracks open and spills everything.

It passes the time, the sun rising in increments through the trees before the two of you come to the clearing you’re paused at.

“Shit.”

“What?”

Shaking your head, you zip up your bag, tears pricking at your eyes as you stare off at the rolling hills.

“You not eating?”

“No,” you say, “Not hungry.”

Clearing his throat, sighing. “Water bottle leaked?”

“How’d you fucking know?”

He laughs and it echoes. Vibrating out of him as you stare at him almost dumbfounded, his shoulder pressing more intently against yours as his hand clutches his chest, head thrown back, eyes crinkled shut as the laugh begins to tickle one from you too.

It’s loud—his laugh. But not in a way that’s annoying or too much. But one that you could bet on recognising from a room away, maybe even over the water and clearing if it was as quiet as it is now. Your eyes flick over him, taking in the wiry hair around his jaw, and the curls that wrap around his ears.

“Alright, alright,” you prod, his laugh dying, throwing a fake roll of your eyes when you feel him watching.

“You’d be surprised how many have the same thing happen.” His hand vanishes, digging into his bag before he retrieves more foil-wrapped food coming out with it. “Here.”

“You always share your food with those you take on a hike?”

Elbowing you lightly, your fingers unfolding the foil as you grin. “No.”

Smirking, gaze flicking over him. “Are you making an exception in nature?”

His eyes glint, the corner of his lips rising into his cheek. “Don’t tell the trees.”

Before you take a bite, hovering it close to your lips, you look at him, finding him already watching you from the corner of his eye.

“Your secret is safe with me, Frankie.”

“You owe me.”

Is he flirting? You wonder, adding a snort. “Oh well, you let me know how I can repay you.”

You don’t miss the low way he shyly mutters that he will, or how it seems to make you press your thighs together on instinct.

On the descent, you learn more about him under trees that cast shadows and through wildflowers of pastel shades.

Frankie used to be a pilot. He’d needed a fresh start, a new beginning, found one here as a tour guide. He likes dry nuts but not in baked goods and he prefers his coffee dark, more often without milk.

You notice, some of the things he spills fall from him with jagged edges, as though much of it has been a well-kept secret. A thing he’s kept close to his chest, somehow crumbling under your earlier questions to now openly just sharing.

When the two of you come to another pause, you almost gloat at it—go to ask him if he’s usually this talkative, or if you’re special. But the words fade, dissolve, right on your tongue when you learn what it feels like to have his chest pressed to your back. When you discover how broad he is, solid. How he’s ridiculously warm as he points over your shoulder to a clearing, as the other hand rests on your waist for stability, giving some indication and story about what is so important about where you’re stood.

But you can’t hear him.

Too busy, too focused on how good he smells for saying you’ve been hiking for hours—and how inappropriate this might be if he’s just doing his job.

Because there’s a distinct musk scent that’s sliding into your nose, all but woven itself in woodiness, an earthy almost peppery scent that seems to smother over any scents of nature.

“—it’s one of the prettier spots on the trail. So, thought you might like it.”

You’re prettier, you think.

Sighing with your thoughts until you hear him cough, clearing his throat.

It isn’t an intention to turn to face him, to find yourself up close, but you do. Eyes fixed on his, chest pressing to his chest as you take a nervous swallow.

“Did I…”

“Say that out loud?”

“Shit.”

“Hey, it’s fine,” he reassures, hand scratching at the back of his head.

Something thrums, a second pulse beating between your thighs when he drags the tip of his tongue across his lower lip.

“I did mean it—that you’re prettier.”

And fuck, even his shyness is endearing on him. Rosy pink spread out across his cheeks, even over the bridge of his nose. A mumbled thanks leaving his lips as he continued to linger on your face, not turning away, not giving any signs that you’d overstepped too much.

“Anyway, what’s your favourite spot on the trail, Frankie?”

His mouth opens, words set to spill, but they’re swallowed, hidden. Figurative walls come down before he blinks and looks around, weighing his options as he takes another glance at the watch on his wrist—the practical one. The one you assume could get wet, could hit against a rock and even be set on fire and would still work.

“I can show you?”

“If… you want to?”

He cocks his head, slides his jaw. “I’ve got nowhere else to be today, do you?”

With a smile, you shake your head and you swear his eyes smile, even before his eyes do.

It turns out Frankie’s favourite place on the trail is a little coffee truck with table and chairs overlooking a cliff edge with greenery, crystal waters and what you suspect is a rocky bit of beach.

“This isn’t a usual spot on the trail, is it?”

Blowing on his cup, he shakes his head, lips sliding perfectly into his cheek.

“I’m going to start thinking I’m special, Frankie.”

He shrugs, placing his coffee down on the wooden table before tracing his thumb over his lower lip. “Your voucher has expired now.”

“Oh, so this means I have to amble back by myself or?”

Shaking his head, leaning his forearm on the table, fingers inching closer to yours. “No. It means I can say that maybe you are. Special, that is.”

Heat floods your cheek, kisses the tips of your ears, as you whisper an oh. Your heart thumping a little, quickening in your chest, staring at him as you try to take a measured breath—to think of something, anything, to say—

“Anyway,” he says, and you wonder if it’s a nod to your earlier slip-up, “You think you’d do another? Hike, I mean?”

Taking a sip from your drink, scrunching your nose at how warm it is—the steam tickling your lip. “Maybe. Not sure they’d be as informative as you.”

“Yes, I think many wouldn’t be able to go, trees, water, don’t slip and watch out for boulders.”

Smiling, you shake your head. “You did have to hold my hand when we walked over that edge, not sure another guide would do so with as much patience.”

His eyes glisten, stare momentarily dropped before it’s back on you with the warmth of a thousand suns. “Couldn’t let you fall.”

“Because it’s bad for your rep?”

He takes a sip of his coffee as he smirks.

You take the moment to blow on yours, inhaling the scent of it, somehow finding it’s not able—even with how strong it is—to know the scent of him from your nose. Not even as the tip almost touches the steaming liquid.

“Hey, you think you’d be okay to walk with that?”

Squinting, hand coming up over your brows so you can see him as the sun peers from around the trees. “I think I can manage. Or, I’ll try not to force you to grab my waist to keep me steady again, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

It’s his turn to snort before he slides his sunglasses from his nose, offering them out to you.

“Frankie, you don’t have—”

“If you burn yourself by slipping on a rock, I’m liable.”

Taking them, placing them on your nose and pushing them up, you stare at him through them—finding him smirking, taking another sip.

“I thought my voucher had expired.”

He says nothing, just shoots you a smirk.

You’d never admit it, but you’re disappointed the journey from his spot to his truck is short. The coffee in your cup is now just mere dregs, his own gone before the two of you had even begun your descent back, and his sunglasses are tucked into the collar of his tee again.

Lingering, hovering, you watch as he removes his bag—having unclipped it from over his chest—placing it down as he fusses for his keys before his truck beeps and he’s back in the trunk.

“So, do I give you your five-star review here or do I wait for the email?”

He laughs from inside the vehicle, the tinted glass hiding whether he’s grinning or if he’s shaking his head as you undo both laces and slide your foot from one boot as he emerges, placing your shoes back on the ground close to you.

“Seriously,” you continue, motioning to return the boots and put your familiar ones back on, “I had a nice time.”

“Told you nature wasn’t all that bad.”

Snorting, you hand him the boots back, trying not to react when you feel the current in your fingers when he brushes yours. Trying not to show that your heart skips a beat when you flick your gaze up and find his already on you.

“Hey. So… I don’t usually do this.”

Pulling your hand back, you slide it around your bag strap, shifting on the spot—feet happily wiggling back in your Vans—as you blank your face, smear innocence over it. “A line so many people say.”

His lips curl, teeth biting as he takes a breath. “Do you think I could see you again? Not on a voucher.”

Smiling, letting it open out as your lips part. “Can it be inside?” Shrugging, he nods. “Then, yeah. I’d like that.”

“Good. Cool.”

“Oh, just so you know, Frankie. I leave in six days.”

His brows lift, creasing his forehead as you watch him swallow. “Oh, right.”

“So, what I mean by that is, if you want to see me again, maybe… it can be tonight?”

Your stomach knots. Nervousness barrages in your veins as you try to keep your eyes up, your back straight—ignoring the way your pulse now pounds in your chest, in your throat, in your ears.

Because you don’t do this either.

Tightening your grip on your bag, taking even breaths as he slowly, but surely, beams.

“I know a place.”

“Inside, right?”

Rolling his eyes, smirking—the sign of a dimple threatening to show. “Not exactly, but it’s a bistro.”

Stepping forward, all caution thrown to the wind, you press a kiss to his cheek—soft, gentle, almost a blink and you’ll miss it. “I think I can do that.”

Pink smothers his cheeks, his hand almost rising to touch where you’d kissed before he drops his hand and flexes it. “Do you… you think I could pick you up from your hotel?”

Nodding, and swallowing, you smile. “Okay.”

[missmeinyourbones]

HOOKED ON HER FLESH

cw: afab!reader, fingering, pussy job, penetrative sex, pet names used (pretty girl, baby, etc), suckin and fuckin in the bath, raw fucking but this is not real so practice safe sex my friends

The click of the front door is dull, and Rintaro can feel the burn in his calves when he bends down to place his gym bag beside the few pairs of tossed shoes by the entryway.

If you were on the couch like he'd half expected you to be, you'd scold him for leaving it there knowing one of you always trips over it. But you're not.

It's late, almost 11 PM when he returns home from a long day of training. The apartment is dim and oddly still when he weakly calls out to address his presence. With still no answer, he makes his way down the dark hallway with nothing but the kitchen light illuminating the space.

The second place he checks is the bedroom.

Weirdly enough, you're not there either. But before he even gets the opportunity to worry, he spots an outline of light shining through the closed bathroom door in his peripheral.

Quietly entering the bathroom, he's not all that surprised to find you sponging in the water, eyes closed and hair carelessly clipped up.

You're not asleep—he can tell by your breathing. He notes the glass of red slightly sipped on as it balances on the back ledge of the toilet.

He leans against the door frame, admiring you while he can before you shy away and refuse to let him. It's somewhat muggy in the room from the steam, and he gathers that you've been marinating for a while based on the drops of sweat beading in your supple creases and cleavage.

When the nippy draft of the open door finally makes its way to you, you crack your eyes open and jump a bit at the unexpected figure in the doorway.

Your face cushions a bit when you realize it's him, "God, you scared me. When did you get home?"

"Just now," he placates, making his way over to kneel beside you at the edge of the tub. That singeing ache returns in his calves, but he doesn't seem to care when he's this close to you, counting the steam droplets adorning your cheeks and eyelashes.

You're heavy with sleep when you reach for him, "How was practice?"

He hums in acknowledgment, letting his thumb trace your jaw in a gentle touch.

"Nothin' special," he shakes his head before smiling a bit at your drowsy murmurs. "Tired, baby?"

You nod along against his hand, "A little, yeah."

Opening your eyes, you admire your lover; he's tired too, the subtle lines of worry and fatigue marking his handsome face. Your eyes flicker to his blunt bangs, damp and sticking to his forehead.

Your fingers find them easily, brushing them off of his eyebrows and causing him to crinkle his nose. "You already showered?"

"Yeah," it's his turn to close his eyes. "Took a quick one before I left. Figured it was easier."

You seem pleased with his answer as you relax further into the water. "Good, 'cause I really didn't wanna have to get out."

He shakes his head in amusement, fingertips gently caressing your eyebrows and lids when he asks, "Why're you even in here?"

"What do you mean?"

"You only take baths if you're like, stressed or something."

"Not really stressed," you breathe, though the sigh entwined in your words betrays your point, "just wanted to relax a bit. Feel like I've been a bit wound up these past few days."

Rintaro nods but bites his tongue. His mind filters through the handful of times you've been a bit snippy with him this week. When he forgot to take out the trash and you called him annoying. When his shower went on just a few minutes too long, leaving the hot water merely lukewarm and you cursing at him. Just this morning, when the two of you were buzzing around the kitchen preparing for your days—he used the last of the milk in his coffee and didn't write it down on the grocery list, resulting in a glare from you and a passive-aggressive nudge towards the notepad on the counter.

As if noting the gears turning in his head, you whisper above the sound of water gently sloshing beneath you as you readjust your legs over the side of the tub.

"I'm sorry I've been kind of a bitch."

Rintaro chuckles and it sounds like love. His tone is light and airy when he squeezes your hand in solidarity, "I like you a little bitchy."

You roll your eyes, though both of you know it's harmless, and a warming silence comfortably overtakes your tiny apartment bathroom.

Rintaro thinks he's subtle, and maybe he is to anyone who isn't you, but you know him, and you know that his tender touches trailing from your hand to your leg are filled with both love and something a bit more desperate.

"So," his hand slowly caresses your damp leg as it dangles outside of the water, "wound up, huh?"

A glare is sent his way but the smiling pulling at your lips encourages him.

"Can I help?" His thumb applies some pressure to your calf, rubbing slow circles to the tender muscle and ears perking up at your soft sighs.

"You don't have to, you're probably tired and—”

He interrupts your weak restraint with a rough whisper against your cold ankle, "I'm never too tired to make you cum, let's get that straight."

He hears you kiss your teeth as his vulgarity, "I'm just saying, I'm okay."

And Rintaro does what he does best, and doesn't take no for an answer.

"Well, what if I want to?" he purrs against your skin, "What about my needs?"

"Your needs of making me cum?" you scoff behind a smirk.

"Exactly."

Sitting up a bit to better see you, he prompts you to uncross your legs with a gentle pry of his hand. You obey and spread yourself against the front of the bath, heels against the sides of the cold ceramic as he slips a sluggish hand between your thighs.

He can feel the slick already forming submerged in the water as he teases an experimental finger through your folds. Taking his sweet time, he brings his thumb to brush against your untouched clit, and grins like a wolf when you whimper and jolt at the slight friction.

You hear Rintaro laugh through his nose. "Yeah, you're okay?" he smugly prompts.

You close your eyes at the feeling, too needy to care about his mocking, "Shut up."

You can't see his smirk but you know it's there all the same. He plays with you without any urgency, mindlessly enjoying rolling your nub between his pointer and thumb, greedily inhaling each and every one of your gasps and mewls.

Once he's pleased with his mess of you, he allows a fingertip to just barely dip inside of your heat. Painfully slow and deliberate, he lets it barely sink into you before it pulls itself out, repeating the movement slowly.

He's fucking with you openly, giving you a sinful taste of the feeling you're addicted to without any actual benefits of it. You know he wants you to break, and you can't even bring yourself to put up a fight with your dwindling restraint slipping through your pruney fingers.

With a prod of his finger that goes just slightly deeper than the rest, you whine in frustration and reach for his arm.

"Rin," your hand wraps around his flexed bicep, to both steady yourself and prompt him to do more.

He ignores your pleas, continuing to give you just enough to squirm and thrash at his repeated actions. He knows your lack of patience at his hand—if he hadn't made you so greedy, you'd just take what he gives you.

But Rintaro learned long ago that he's a weak man when it comes to you. He's always going to give you exactly what you want—he's just going to be annoying about it first.

He lets it continue for a bit longer before you finally whine and dig your nails into his bicep.

"Stop—fucking doing that…need—” your words falter into tiny little whimpers as he continues a steady pulse on your clit.

"Need?" his eyebrows raise in a delight that mimics the devil.

You go to close your legs in instinct, but Rintaro's free hand uses its palm to hold you open. The still water in the bath splashes against your movements as your chest heaves with a need that he's not even close to giving you.

Somewhere between mocking and comforting, he tuts and coos at your frustration. His fingers stay steady as he kisses your neck, licking the sweat mixed with citrus-scented salt from your relaxation.

He taunts, "Gotta use your words, pretty."

"Need you," crawls pathetically from your throat, "you asshole."

Rintaro smiles, baring fangs you're not one hundred percent sure are actually there or not. For once, he says nothing as he finally sinks a full finger into your eager cunt.

You gasp at the pressure and he follows suit, almost mimicking your hiccups and whimpers as if he too feels what you feel. With every exhale of yours, he's unashamed in inhaling the sweet sounds, trying to savor them by tasting them for his own.

One finger turns to two, and time doesn't exist as you're rocking against his palm and losing yourself between the splashing water and his mouth on your neck.

"Look at you," he presses kisses anywhere he can, "my pretty baby."

I'm—fuck," your legs try to jostle shut again but they're unsuccessful as Rintaro continues his pace.

"It's okay," he sweetly mocks your shaky attempts to reach your high. His teeth move to sink into the outside of your thigh when he tells you, "Just relax for me."

Feeling you clench around him in a manner that's far too familiar, he changes his movements in a way he knows gets you there every time. Curling his fingertips upwards and lingering a bit too long against that spongey ribbed spot inside of you, you nearly jump out of the water at the harsh sensation.

Suna laughs, holding you down as your nails sink into his wrist in an attempt to ground yourself.

He continues against your feeble tries, mentally checking all of the boxes for when he knows you're about to lose it. When you get to the babbling nonsense and begging for quite literally nothing stage, he decides it's time.

A gentle kiss prods against your temple, "Talk to me, pretty."

"Feels good—so fucking good, I—” Your back arches and flexes against the water, desperately trying to reach your approaching high.

"You gonna cum for me?" he breathes through a smile.

You can't speak, nodding furiously and mindlessly as you feel yourself reach your peak. The churning inside of you unravels like a wave, and you can feel your hips bucking themselves upwards without meaning to for the sake of release.

Your lover doesn't let up, rubbing and curling and cooing you through your high. You don't even hear him, can barely feel him anymore as he milks you for all he can before giving you a break and moving his loving touches to your legs and neck.

"Feelin' good?" he's out of breath from watching you perform for him.

Between how tired you were before, let alone how hard he'd just fucked you on his fingers, he expects you to be spent. He's undeniably hard—only human, after all—but with the way your eyes can barely stay open, he mentally plans to get you settled in bed before leaving himself quickly and joining you.

But he's never been more willing to be wrong when you whisper against his bicep, planting wet and messy kisses across his skin in an attempt (as if one was even needed) to persuade him.

He can feel you beam against his skin when you mewl and pant, "Think I need the real thing now."

"The real thing?" his voice octaves in a condescending sweetness.

You're pulling at his cloth-covered torso when you groan, "You know what I mean."

"That wasn't real? You left fucking crescents on my wrist—”

"Rin," you cut him off with a groan, looking up at him all teary and needy and so fucking pretty he thinks he could cry. "Please?"

You watch his chest inflate with a sharp inhale as his eyes rake over your malleable form. His tongue skims his canine when he chuckles and shakes his head.

"Fuck you."

He's undressed and on top of you in the water within seconds.

"Condom?" he heaves into your neck, practically swallowing you whole between breathy groans.

He feels you shake your head and he kisses his teeth in aggravation. "What'd I say about words, baby?"

"No," you nearly hiss, before following it up with a velvety, "just wanna feel you this time, please."

Rintaro groans into your chest and subconsciously bucks his hips against you, "Fuck, okay. Okay, baby."

He takes his time when lining himself up with you, letting his pink tip acquaint itself with your puffy folds like it's the first time. He feels a pull inside of him that egnites when he realizes, it's not the first time, and over his dead body will there ever be a last.

He watches beneath the water as his pre-cum smears itself all over your pussy, sticky and webbed as it dissolves under the water. He flicks himself across your clit, tapping heavily against you when you softly cry at the sensitivity. He lets out sounds of amusement at your feeble protests.

"Don't—” you hiccup as he runs his shaft between your folds, "—be a dick."

"Shut up," he quickly kisses your lips, "I got you—"

As he breathes, he unhurriedly sinks himself into you, relishing in the way you both inhale one another at the stretch. Breathing in one another's gasps and shivers, he lets himself ease in and out of you until he's completely bottomed out and pressing his weight onto your abdomen to hear you shiver.

It's all sweaty kisses and desperate licks as you meet his movements, pulling as he pushes and taking everything one another can offer. And it is everything—you'd never give anything less.

You can tell he's slowly losing his composure, but he does a good job of keeping up with his long and intentional strokes. He means to leave no inch of you untouched, wants you to remember the feeling every time he's away and you find your hand snaking its way between your legs.

"I love you," falls from your lips like the wine you neglected from the untouched glass that sits a few feet from you. And Rintaro swallows it greedily, tastes its rich red and white and pink before spewing it right back for you to keep as your own.

His thrusts become more sloppy and frantic as he feels himself reaching the brink of his climax. "I love you, shit—love you, I love you."

He comes in bursts of heat and desperation, and with a few more needy strokes and circles on your clit, you follow suit behind him. Spent and sticky with cramping limbs in your tiny tub, Rintaro coddles you through shaky whimpers and sore muscles.

"So fuckin' pretty," he breathes between kisses, to you or himself, he doesn't think he'll ever know the difference. "My baby."

Touches turn lazy and tender, and breathing is now slow and steady when Rintaro adjusts himself with a groan and sits upwards. He reaches for your unattended wine glass, taking a strong swig and raising his eyebrows in jest when you roll your eyes and laugh at him.

He then holds it to your lips, gently leaning your jaw back as you take a sip of your own. You swear that his eyes have stars in them, and while you don't know it, yours gape the same right back at him.

Sinking into the water on the opposite end of the cramped bathtub, he grabs your leg and hooks it upon his shoulder, leaving a gentle kiss to your ankle before letting his head loll to the side.

"This water's fucking freezing now," he mumbles, eyes closed.

But his spirits lift when he hears you giggle at his declaration, opening his eyes and smiling behind a scowl to catch you lazily tossing your head back in amusement.

"It was nice before you got in," you shrug, rubbing your ankle against his ear just to watch him whine at the motion, "so it must just be you."

Rintaro hums in faux agreement, turning to weakly gnaw on your calf before kissing the crescents indented from his front teeth.

"Keep it up and I'll keep your pruney ass right here all night."

[escapenightmare]

grumpy bf sae taking care of sick reader, lil suggestive towards the end

"shut up."

sae turns and glares at you with those pretty eyes of his that you loved and hated at the same time, pushing your head back down on the pillow and roughly pulling the blankets over your body, then gently covering you all the way up to your chin.

"how'd you know i was gonna say something?" you ask with him a quirk of a brow. "you weren't even looking this way."

he shrugs.

"well, guess what i was going to say."

"i don't want to know," he lies. he does want to know, even if he knew that it was going to be something ridiculous. he wanted to know anything you wanted to tell him. "something dumb."

"i was just going to say that you're like a mom." you tell him, about to sneeze when he holds a fresh tissue— that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, to your nose. "thanks."

"you're welcome," he grumbled with a huff, fluffing up your pillows for you. "now shut up."

"i like annoying you," you say, smiling up at him sneakily but he thought you looked cute more than anything.

annoyingly cute that is, he corrected himself in his head.

"but you can't do that properly either," he says in a flat tone, unimpressed as he moves from your side to go around the room and clean whatever needed cleaning. he pauses then, and you catch a tiny, barely visible smile on his face as he says, "because i think it's more cute than annoying."

"that's so sweet," you laugh as you tease.

he turns back around to face you, concerned when your laughter turned into silence, "what do you need?"

"water would be nice." your smile is weak now, the sickness suddenly taking over. sae all but speed walks to the kitchen with you calling after him in a voice weaker than your smile, "hot water by the way! not that lukewarm shit."

"i got you," he returns to the room with your mug and hands it to you, placing a hand on the back of your head as you take a few sips. he takes the mug from you and places it on the side table when you're done.

"thanks sae," you give him a small reassuring grin that he doesn't find reassuring at all. "i appreciate you doing all this."

"it's what i should be doing," he rolls his eyes but they're looking down at you with so much love and warmth. "i'd be a bad boyfriend if i didn't take care of my sick partner."

"you're so romantic today, aren't you?" you tease again.

"say something like that again and air won't be the only thing you choke on tonight," he threatens.

"oh?" you grin, wiggling your eyebrows at him as he pales and then starts to blush when realization hits him. "i mean, if you're offering then sure." you shrug, "i'm definitely not complaining."

"you know i didn't mean it like that, i meant like, my fists... you know what i meant!" he struggles to explain himself and then shuts up, looking away with a grimace.

it's one of the only times in your life that you've seen the sae itoshi tongue tied.

but you were going to have to get used to it, because you're going to have him tongue tied more often than either of you thought.

[midnightmusings06]

May I request some fluff of SDV bachelors (Harvey, Seb, Shane) with a farmer who’s sick, overworked, or just generally needs to take a break?

Hi there! This is such a cute fluff prompt I’m happy to write! What I did was I took each bachelor and matched them up with one of the prompts you gave me as follows:

Sebastian taking care of sick reader

Shane taking care of farmer that needs a break

Harvey taking care of overworked farmer

Thank you for your patience too! I’m in the middle of moving and things have been crazy lol

Sebastian:

The morning sun streamed through the bedroom window, blinding your eyes as you started to wake from a long night’s rest. You’d been so exhausted, spending all day outside on your snowy farm to prepare for spring’s arrival, and with it the planting of crops and trees. It soon became evident you’d stayed out a little too long without enough layers, as a telltale sharp pain stung your throat while drinking a glass of lukewarm water. Your nose felt stuffy, making it hard to breathe, and it felt as though your body was creaking from your every movement, aching and shaking while simultaneously sweating buckets. Groaning, you pushed yourself out of bed, trying not to wake your husband. Sebastian was still sound asleep, lightly snoring with his arm across his bare chest.

While attempting to walk to the bathroom to find some medicine, your vision started growing blurry, swaying on your feet. Gripping the bathroom sink to steady yourself, you call out your husband’s name, before sinking to the floor.

“Y/n? Y/n! Hon are you okay? Let’s get you to bed.” Sebastian’s deep voice rings in your head, as you feel his big arms scooping you up into the air, placing you gently onto your shared bed. The lightheaded feeling begins to fade away, as Sebastian kneels by your side of the bed, holding your hand gently, worry and fear riddled in his face. You finally turn to look at him, smiling gently to attempt to ease his worries.

“Hi love,” Your voice comes out barely as a croak. “I think I spent a bit too much time outside yesterday.” You attempt to joke, to which Sebastian smiled.

“That seems pretty clear, dumbass,” He teased you.

“Why don’t I go make you some tea? I’ll make your favorite.”

“With extra honey?”

“Of course love.” He reluctantly lets go of your hand to head for the kitchen, returning with a steaming cup of hibiscus tea, with extra honey at your request.

The rest of your day is spent resting, much to your reluctance, Sebastian even threatened to tie you to the bed if you don’t comply. After digging for ingredients, he found all the materials to make you pumpkin soup, to soothe your throat he says.

“Warm fluids will help your throat, and take some of this medicine as well, I know it doesn’t taste good but it’ll make you feel better.”

After refusing, claiming, “it tastes like piss”, he spoon feeds you your medicine, laughing at your scrunched face in disgust.

“Come on it’s not funny! That stuff is disgusting.”

“How can I not laugh darling, you’re just so cute when you look like that.”

When Seb’s pumpkin soup is finished cooking, he’d spoon feed you that as well, this time for his own enjoyment. After your belly is full from medicine and hot soup, Seb crawled behind up you on your bed to wrap you in his arms.

“But you’ll get sick too!”

“I don’t care, my only priority is you right now. Now, rest well my love,” He whispers, fingers tangled in your hair.

Shane:

Your hastily scribbled notes lay sprawled in front of you, scattered across your desk, some even fallen to the floor. Plans for a new layout for the farm, new buildings to be put in place, fences and paths that needed replacing, ground to be tilled and crops to be planted. It felt as though there was so much to do and not enough time nor resources to do it, and spring was approaching ever closer by the day, as the snow began to melt and patches of dirt and grass began to peek through. You sighed, placing your head in your hands, a raging headache pounding against your skull. You didn’t even hear your front door creak open when you heard the sound of boots thumping into your home. Whipping your head around, you see your boyfriend, Shane, standing by the entrance of your room, a sad expression on his face.

“Babe, you look awful. What are you still doing up at this hour?”

Glancing over to your wall clock, it read 1:00 am. You groaned, turning back to him with a grimace.

“Gee thanks Shane. I’m just going over the new farm plans for the season.”

He walks closer, examining your many papers and notes strewn around your work area.

“Y/n, when was the last time you slept? And I mean really slept.”

You can’t seem to remember.

“I don’t know. What day even is it?” You muttered, eyes trained at the ground.

He bends to your level, lifting your chin with his fingers.

“Baby you need to go to sleep. And today is Friday to answer your question.”

Your eyes widen at your realization.

“We had a date planned tonight didn’t we? Oh my god I’m so sorry Shane, I didn’t mean to forget, I thought for sure it was tomorrow.”

Tears begin to brim in the corners of your eyes, and Shane wraps you in a big hug, placing his warm jacket around you.

“I couldn’t care less about that. It isn’t like you to forget stuff since you always seem so on top of everything, so I guessed something might have happened to you. But that’s not important now, have you eaten anything yet?”

The last thing you ate was some berries from your fridge you picked a few days prior, you’d made it your midnight snack the night before.

“No.”

“Then I’ll go make something for you, in the meantime you go get some pajamas on and sit in bed, I’ll bring it to you.”

“But what about-”

He shushes you.

“It can wait. Now please go rest before I have to drag you there myself.” He smiles, leaving for the kitchen.

Harvey:

You wiped your forehead with your dirt-ridden gloves, having finally finished the exhausting task of removing all of your summer crops to prepare for the impending fall season. The muscles and joints of your body seemed to creak and groan with every movement, soreness tainting every part of you as you winced to even walk. Pulling a crumpled piece of paper from your pocket, you inspect your list of tasks. There was still so much to be done and fall would be here in two days, the thought of it filling you with anxiety. Trudging towards the silo to harvest wheat, you heard the sound of footprints making their way towards you.

“Hey there love! I prepared you a healthy meal to give you strength while you work, it has - y/n are you alright? Y/n?”

He holds your lunch, his smile dimming as your knees finally give out from exhaustion, the last thing you see is his figure hovering above you, quickly assessing your state and vitals, his voice slowly fading out as he attempts to calm himself down and focus on caring for you.

When you awake, you’re lying in one of Harvey’s clinic beds, eyes blinded by the sheer brightness of the room. Thankfully, you aren’t hooked up to any of his fancy machines, and Harvey is sat by your right side, watching you intently. When he notices you stirring, he jolts upward, glasses tilted on his face.

“Y/n! Thank goodness you’re awake, how are you feeling?”

You shimmy yourself to sit up, your muscles sore but not as fatigued as before.

“Tired mostly, and a bit sore,” you pause.

“I’m sorry Harvey.”

He frowns a bit, “Please don’t be sorry. But I do want to know how you got to this point, if you’re willing to confide in me?”

He asks tentatively.

You nod, and explained your unending list of tasks, coupled with the hours of hard work you’ve put in. Harvey listens to you intently, nodding as you go.

“And then you came to bring me some food, and I just collapsed because I was so tired. There’s still so much to be done before fall and I only have two more days to get everything else finished-”

Harvey quickly cuts you off, “Leave it to me. I’m not the most adept at farm work but I believe I can perform an adequate enough job for now.”

He smiles, gently grabbing your hand to hold it clasped in his.

“Remember my love, I am always here for you. Whether to ease your worries or complete tasks for you. Never feel as though you are a burden by asking for help.”

Smiling back at him, he helps you up from your bed, escorting you back to your farm for some well deserved rest and care.

[saetoshi]

corazón de melón.

tldr; the one time you have a proper conversation with itoshi sae ends up unleashing a series of events you never imagined could’ve happened.

wc. 10.2k

¿?: roommates to lovers, college!au, idiots in love, this is pure domesticity tbh, fluff, lowk word vomit, ooc-ish sae (he’s a silly lil guy sometimes this is the hill i’ll die on), slow burn ig ??, swearing, someone’s mean to you (not sae), not proofread (no surprise)

a/n: i have so many emotions in my heart for sae, SOMEONE SEDATE ME PLEASE FREE ME FROM HIM I CANT LIVE NORMALLY ANYMORE, turned rue into a sae liker for this so real of me, @rintosei, enjoy ur meal my children this is probably the longest thing i’ll write in a hot minute

when others think of itoshi sae, many words come to mind: genius, talented, jerk, asshole, rude, mean, scary, lashes, pretty—the list goes on. 

you have no particular thoughts about sae. all he is to you is your roommate. you’d like to have an opinion of him, but that seems impossible with the way you can count the number of times you’ve spoken to him with one hand.

though, if you had to be honest, the only common thread in the few interactions you’ve had is that he very clearly does not care for your company—or anyone’s company, for that matter. 

not that you blame him. if you had to deal with having to go to practice after a day of classes, you wouldn’t want to interact with anyone else, either. (you’d also not have the energy to do anything.)

it’s why you’re used to hearing him get back to the apartment while you’re eating dinner; why you started leaving some leftovers for him to eat whenever he wants to.

it’s also why you’re surprised when he comes back from practice earlier than usual. you jump when you hear the front door open, placing your hand over your heart.

your turn to the door, eyes widening slightly when you see sae walk in. you don’t greet him—you never do—you don’t think he’d appreciate it. (he never greets you either, so you assumed it was fine.)

so, you turn your attention back to the tv, reaching out to grab the broom. you quickly start sweeping, humming a tune while the noise of whatever drama is playing in the background fills the apartment. 

you barely register that sae’s door doesn’t open, but the thought quickly leaves your mind when something dramatic happens to one of the leads. 

you take a step back, an unceremonious yelp leaving your lips when your back bumps into something. a second passes by before you slowly tilt your head back.  

your eyes are met with a pair of teal ones. a sheepish smile tugs at your lips, “hi?” 

he raises a brow, “what are you doing?”

“cleaning.” you move the broom from side to side in hopes to draw his attention to it. (he barely glances at it before his eyes snap back to yours.)

you take a step forward, moving to face him. he just stares at you. an awkward silence settles between the two of you.

“you’re back early.” you hope he didn’t hear your voice crack.

he blinks, clearly uninterested. “practice ended early.” 

you hum, nervously bouncing on the balls of your feet. you huff, tapping your fingers against the broom. “i see.”

it’s clear both of you feel uncomfortable. still, neither of you makes a move to leave. you’re more surprised sae’s still standing in front of you. (sae’s mildly intrigued you’re attempting to talk to him.)

you open your mouth to speak, but promptly shut it close. you repeat the action two more times before sae interrupts you, “what?”

your eyes drift away from his. you gnaw on your bottom lip. “it’s nothing.”

he glares at you. “just spit it out.”

your eyes widen, snapping back to look at him as you dismissively wave your hand. “it’s really nothing, you can just leave!”

“you clearly have something you want to say to me,” he deadpans, “so i suggest you get it over with so we can put an end to this lukewarm conversation.”

you take a deep breath, wiping one hand against your shirt, gently swaying the broom with the other. “i was just wondering, y’know since you’re back early–”

“hurry up.”

“do you wanna eat together?” you look at the ground, feet shuffling uncomfortably. the silence feels unbearable. 

“that’s it?” the confusion in his voice confuses you. you lift your eyes to stare at him, confusion etched in your face.

your head tilts to the side in confusion, “what do you mean ‘that’s it’?” 

“you wanna eat with me?” he points at himself. his brows knit when you nod. sae owlishly blinks, 

“okay.”

his eyes widen in confusion when he sees an elated smile bloom on your lips. 

“i won’t start cooking yet, since i at least have to finish sweeping,” you hum, “but if you’re hungry you could get started on something and i’ll join you when i’m done.”

“i can’t cook.” sae awkwardly coughs. he shoves his hands into his pockets, looking away from you, a soft flush spreading through his cheeks.

“oh,” you blink, smiling at him. “that’s fine! i can cook something while you clean instead.”

the blush on his cheeks deepens as his brows furrow.  “i don’t know how to clean.”

your smile tightens, eyes squinting as you inch closer to him.

there’s a beat of silence. “what can you do then?”

“play football.” you wait a few seconds for him to say something else. 

“that’s it?”

“yeah.” he says it as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. (as if it was the only thing that mattered.)

you rub your forehead, a dry laugh escaping your lips. 

if you were to tell others of this discovery you’re sure they wouldn’t believe you. you’re not even sure you believe him, yourself.

at least you didn’t, until he took the broom from your grasp. you have to bite back your laughter when he can’t even hold it properly. you wonder how he’d manage to survive alone.

itoshi sae is basically useless outside of football, you conclude. (and you’re not sure if this is the opinion you want to have about your roommate.)

it’s been a week since you learned about sae’s lack of ability to do seemingly anything other than kick a ball around.

it’s also been a week since he started coming back from practice earlier. you have mixed feelings about it. on one hand, you find it strangely comforting knowing you’re not alone in the apartment. on the other, sae just stares at you while you clean.

you’re sick of feeling his eyes follow you around. it feels like a predator watching its prey. having his eyes trail you makes you feel judged, and you’ve had enough.

so, you tighten your grip around the mop in your hands, turning around to look at sae. you take a deep breath, “why are you staring at me?”

he blinks, propping an arm on a couch cushion and leaning his head into his palm. “i’m trying to learn.”

confusion paints itself all over your face, “learn what?” 

“learn to clean.” you hate when he says things like they’re the most obvious thing ever. it makes you feel as if he expects you to know what goes on in his head.

“by staring at me?” you raise a brow. 

he simply shrugs, “i’m a visual learner.”

you don’t know if you believe him. 

so, you place one of your hands on your hips, tilting the mop back and forth with the other one. “in that case, you should try cleaning today.”

his eyes widen, mouth curling into a fine line. “i don’t think i’m ready for that.”

you take a step closer to him, holding the mop out to him. “well, i think that after a week of watching me you should start practicing what you’ve learned.”

“don’t ever think again.” he frowns.

“oh, please,” you roll your eyes, “don’t tell me the itoshi sae is afraid of a little mopping.”

that makes him get up. you bite back the satisfied smile threatening to creep up your face when he snatches the mop from your hands.

“i’m just supposed to move this side to side, right?” he stiffly holds the mop, looking at you with a raised brow.

“‘m not gonna help you out,” you make your way to the couch, mimicking his earlier position. “if you’ve been learning from staring at me for a week then you should know what to do.”

“i know what to do.” he rolls his eyes, “i just don’t know how to do it.”

“figure it out, then.” you lean forward against the palm of your hand, trying to hide your smile behind your fingers.

he glares at you and scoffs, redirecting his attention to the object in his hands. you fail to stifle your laughter when he moves the mop in a sweeping motion.

“don’t laugh!” his grip tightens around the mop, heat rushing to his ears. 

you bite your tongue, the ghost of a smile still lingering on your lips, “i’m not.”

he tsks, slightly pouting. he walks towards you, dragging the mop behind him. you look up at him, you eyes flutter closed when he flicks your forehead. 

“teach me.” your eyes snap open, flickering to meet his. a confused noise leaves your lips as your brows furrow. 

“teach you what?” your eyes flutter when he flicks your forehead again.

sae’s eye twitches in annoyance, “are you stupid or something?”

you glare at him, “not everyone thinks the same things you do!”

he clicks his tongue, rolling his eyes. he points at the mop and then at himself. “teach me to clean.”

“i thought you said you were a visual learner.” you deadpan. 

“consider this your punishment for laughing at me.” he huffs, a condescending smile blooming on his lips when he sees your pained expression.

his face leans closer to yours, “i look forward to learning from you, teach.”

you dumbly stare at him as he places the mop in your hands. he flashes you a shit-eating grin before retreating to his room. you blink twice before coming to your senses, punching the couch cushions in anger. 

you wish you hadn’t found out itoshi sae was a little shit. you much preferred when you only thought of him as your useless roommate. 

itoshi sae is the most infuriating student you’ve ever met. 

you thought someone described as a genius would be a much better student than he actually is. he doesn’t pay attention to anything you say at all. you wonder if his teachers just let him pass the class because they don’t want him around anymore. 

you have a newfound respect for his actual teachers. you don’t know how they manage to stand him for a whole semester when you don’t think you can even last two weeks. (it’s still longer than you expected.)

“sae,” you loudly sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, “you’re doing it wrong. again.” 

his grip around the broom tightens, his knuckles turning white, “i’m doing what you told me to do!”

“you’re not!” you groan, running a hand down your face, “gosh, how do you manage to do everything i tell you the wrong way?”

“what, so i’m the problem?” his eyes narrow, he takes a step closer to you, “have you ever thought that maybe you’re a bad teacher?”

an angry gasp leaves your lips, “excuse me?!”

“you heard me.” he grits his teeth, “you’re clearly the most lukewarm teacher ever. how do you expect me to learn when you don’t care about teaching me properly?”

“have you ever considered that maybe i don’t want to teach you because you forced me to?” you rub your temples in a poor attempt to prevent the coming headache.

he scoffs, brows knitting in annoyance, “you could at least put more effort into making sure i’m learning.”

“you think i’m not?” you point him square in the chest, glaring at him. “i’m doing my best here, okay? it’s not my fault you’re a shit student.”

“you–”

“you listen while your teacher is speaking.” you seethe, grabbing a fistful of his shirt, “i’m trying to do the best i can. i’m not qualified to teach you anything, especially not with how you don’t even pay attention to what i say!”

he frowns, “well, i–”

you shake him as hard as you can, angry tears pooling in your eyes, “you’re the most ungrateful, useless piece of fucking shit i’ve ever met in my life!”

sae grabs your wrists, letting the broom fall with a clang to the floor. he stares at you with wide eyes. you blink, heat creeping up your face in embarrassment.

there’s a beat of silence. sae’s eyes scan your face. “you good?” 

he lets out a soft sigh of relief when you nod. “are you going to punch me if i let go?”

he relaxes a little when you shake your head. he looks at you as he slowly lets go of your hands. you stare at him, wide eyed as he gently walks you over to the couch and sits you down.

sae plops down on the other end of the couch, glancing at you. he opens his mouth to speak, but promptly closes it. you stop yourself from laughing at his awkwardness. (it reminds you of how you must’ve acted when you talked to him a couple of weeks ago.)

you twist the hem of your shirt in your hands, looking away from sae, gnawing on your bottom lip. “’m sorry about that.”

“don’t apologize.” he coughs awkwardly, crossing his arms, “i probably stressed you out too much.”

“yeah, but, still,” you turn to face him, “i shouldn’t have said something so rude.”

“it’s fine. i really did deserve that, after all.” an amused laugh escapes his lips, “i’ve never heard you so mad before, though.”

you tilt your head to the side, “what do you mean?” 

“i mean,” a hint of amused smile tugs at the corners of his lips, “you tend to get really loud when you complain about your classes. i can hear you all the way to my room.”

your face heats up in embarrassment. you slump against the couch, hiding your face behind your hands. “sorry.”

“stop apologizing,” you slightly relax when you hear a sliver of empathy in his voice. “it’s better to let your emotions out instead of holding them in.”

you lower your hands from your face, staring at him. “do you do that?”

“it depends,” he hums, “feelings are lukewarm most of the time, so when i get angry or whatever i’ll let it out so i can get it over with.”

you narrow your eyes at him, scanning his face. “how does that even work?”

he shrugs nonchalantly, “if i get mad at someone i’ll say it to their face while i’m still mad so i can stop being angry.”

you mull over his words, “so instead of having pent up feelings and reaching your limit, you just act on your emotions as soon as possible so you go back to feeling nothing?”

“pretty much.”

a small hum leaves your lips. silence settles between the two of you before a loud growl echoes through the apartment. laughter bubbles in your chest, spilling out of your mouth when sae’s face flushes.

“shut up!” he hides behind his hands, “i haven’t eaten all day!”

you stand up, walking over and extending a hand out to sae, “wanna help out with dinner?”

he lowers his hands from his face, glancing between your eyes and your hand. he blinks, “i can’t cook.”

“i know,” a smile blooms on your lips, “you can consider it your first lesson.”

sae’s eyes light up, the corners of his lips tilting up ever so slightly. “you’re still gonna teach me?”

“i can’t let you stay useless forever.” you stick your tongue out at him, smiling when he grabs your hand.

a huff of laughter escapes his lips when you fail to tug him up. you flip him off before leaving him behind on the couch. a smile lingers on his face when he follows you to the kitchen. 

he’s not a good assistant. (and he’s an even worse cook). in fact, if you’d known that letting him into the kitchen would’ve resulted in having to evacuate the building due to the fire alarm, you wouldn’t have asked for his help at all.

however, you do appreciate that he invited you out for dinner later as an apology for stressing you out. 

(it makes you think he’s more considerate than he pretends to be.)

you’ve lost track of the times you’ve had to apologize to your neighbors over sae activating the fire alarm. 

it’s embarrassing enough that seemingly everyone in the complex goes to your college, but sae seems to make it worse by glaring at anyone who so much as looks in your direction with a judgemental stare.

“i can’t keep going on like this,” you cover your face with your hands. you shrink into yourself when you feel multiple eyes staring at the back of your head.

“stop overreacting.” sae clicks his tongue. still, he discreetly grabs the hem of your shirt and gently pulls you closer to his side. 

you lower your hands from your face, frowning at him as tears of shame pool in your eyes. “everyone’s judging us!”

“just ignore them.” he awkwardly pats your head, “they’ll forget about it soon enough.”

“sae, this happens almost every week!” you cry, gnawing your lower lip, “some guy yelled at me last time because we interrupted his studying! do you have any idea how long i had to apologize for?”

his jaw clenches as anger flashes through his face for a split second before his uninterested expression returns. “what’d he look like?”

“i don’t know,” you blink, “he was tall. he also had brown-ish hair, i think?”

he shoves his hands in his pockets, tilting his head in the direction of the building, “do you know his apartment number?” 

“no,” you sigh. “why?”

the corners of his lips quirk up into a mischievous smile. “i was thinking of baking him some apology cookies.”

you cover your mouth in a feeble attempt to stifle your laughter. (if everyone was staring at you in judgment for triggering the fire alarm, now they’re judging you for laughing in this situation.)

sae tugs you into the building when you’re all cleared to enter, glaring at a few neighbors who shoot dirty looks at both of you.

you smack his arm, “stop doing that, you’re embarrassing us!”

he scoffs, flipping off anyone who’s still staring, “does it look like i care? they’re all too scared to say anything to my face, anyway.”

“yeah, but they always say shit to me when you’re gone,” you click your tongue, frowning. sae drags you up the stairs to your apartment.

both of you stand in front of your door when sae puts his hands on your shoulders, staring at you in the eyes. his eyes are a pretty shade of teal, you note.

“if anyone gives you shit when you’re alone, just remember what they look like, ‘kay?” he flicks your forehead, a malicious gleam in his eyes, “i’ll make sure to personally apologize for the trouble.”

a smile blooms on your lips, “you’re so mean.”

“shut up,” he rolls his eyes, pinching your cheek, “as your roommate, i’m the only one allowed to give you a hard time.”

“whatever you say, freak,” you rub your cheek, smile widening, swatting his hand away when he reaches out to pinch your other cheek. 

sae bites back a smile as he nods his head toward the door. “did you bring your key?”

you reach into your pockets, feeling around for the key. your head tilts down, eyes widening in panic when you don’t find anything. 

an embarrassed chuckle slips past your lips when you lift your head back up to look at sae. he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“gosh, you’re so useless.” 

you kick his shin, sticking your tongue out at him, “you don’t get to say that to me.”

he sticks his tongue out at you in return, crossing his arms. “whatever. just go and ask the landlord for a key.”

“me?” you raise your brows at him, haughtily tilting your head to the side, “you’re the reason we had to evacuate the building in the first place! i think it’s only fair that you get the key.”

sae opens his mouth to tell you off, but seemingly decides to sigh loudly in annoyed defeat instead, “fine.”

you smile triumphantly, turning to face him, your eyes closing as your chest puffs out in pride. sae rests his index finger on your forehead. your eyes flutter open in confusion at the contact, smile dropping into a curious pout. 

“tell me if anyone bothers you while i’m gone.” he flicks your forehead one last time before turning around and walking away. a content smile blooms on your lips as you stare at his back, sliding down to sit next to the door.

you don’t tell him the tall guy from last time dropped by to yell at you again. sae didn’t even have to ask to tell something was wrong with the way your smile seemed dimmer when you told him you’d take over making lunch.

he doesn’t tell you he’s going to give that asshole the ‘apology’ cookies he’d mentioned before. (and he definitely doesn’t mention that he got his apartment number from the landlord when he got the key to your apartment.) but you had an inkling of what he was going to do when you saw him take out some bowls and a whisk from the cabinets. (you didn’t stop him.)

you bake him some actual ‘thank you’ cookies and place them by his door before heading to your room for the night. the next morning you find a post-it with an ‘anytime’ messily scribbled on it and a ‘thanks for the cookies :)’ on the other side.

you smile fondly at the teal-colored square. you think it resembles the color of his eyes. (it makes you feel warm and fuzzy.)

sae’s gotten slightly better at cooking. he’s able to make at least one meal without triggering the fire alarms.

you feel proud. you suppose that’s what teachers feel when their most lazy, unmotivated student finally manages to put effort into something. 

it makes you feel proud enough that you take a detour to the convenience store on your way home. a fond smile lights up your face when you walk out of the store, plastic bag in hand with a chocolate bar and a pack of star stickers.

there’s a skip to your step as you head home, swinging the bag back and forth. 

you’ve barely even opened the door to your apartment when it swings open. your eyes widen in surprise when they meet sae’s. 

his eyes narrow, “what took you so long?”

a slightly burnt scent wafts the apartment. your nose scrunches, “is something burning?”

“answer my question first,” he points the spatula in his hand at you. 

“i got you a reward,” you smile, lifting the bag in your hands. 

his eyes light up, “what’d you get me?”

you quickly hide the bag behind your back when he reaches out for it. “answer my question first.”

a small smile tugs at his lips. he rolls his eyes, “nothing is burning. i turned off the stove before opening the door just to be sure.”

you reach out to pat his head, a teasing smile on your lips, “good job, sae!”

he scoffs, a soft blush dusts his ears. “you make it sound like you’re praising a dog.”

you huff, “stop complaining when you’re getting praised.”

“whatever.” sae pouts, brows knitting, “when are you giving me my gift?”

“so impatient ,” you tsk, shaking your head, “let me in first, i don’t wanna stand in the hallway any longer.”

he grabs your arm and pulls you close to him, kicking the door closed. you bump into his chest, eyes widening as heat rushes to your ears.

the first thing that pops into your mind is that he smells nice. there’s a hint of a burnt scent that clings to him, but he still smells nice. (you note that he feels warm too. it makes you feel warm.)

you feel a slight pressure against your brows. it makes you blink as you slowly snap out of your stupor. 

“you good?” your eyes meet sae’s worried ones. he leans in closer to you, scanning your face. you awkwardly nod. 

his brows furrow. “are you sure? you zoned out for a bit. are your classes stressing you out too much?”

you shake your head, slightly leaning away from him. your lips press into a fine line. sae’s eyes narrow as he scans your face. he steps back, his hands resting on your shoulders. the spatula lightly digs into your skin.

“is it that guy again?” he tightens his grip, making you wince when the spatula presses harder against your skin, “is he still bothering you?”

“i think you scared him away,” you quickly swat his arms away. “i’m fine, though.”

“are you sure?” he sighs when you nod, “why’d you zone out then?”

“i got distracted,” you gnaw on your bottom lip. 

his expression morphs to confusion, “with what?”

your eyes widen slightly. you don’t want to tell him he’s the reason you zoned out. so, you settle for the only thing that comes to mind, “the smell of something burning. are you sure you turned off the stove?”

��yes.” he groans in annoyance. there’s a small pause. sae turns around, tugging you into the kitchen with him. 

“look!” he points at the stove, “it’s off. stop making me second-guess myself.”

an amused smile blooms on your face, “i can’t believe you had to come check if you actually turned it off.”

“i can’t believe you actually haven’t given me my gift yet,” he scoffs, pouting. 

you laugh, reaching out to flick his forehead. “patience is a virtue, sae. it’d do you well to have it.”

“whatever.” he tries to grab the bag from your hands. “just give it to me already.”

you smile, pulling out the chocolate bar from the bag. laughter bubbles in your chest when you see his stunned expression.

“chocolate?” he glares at the bar in your hand, “do you know how unhealthy that is for me?”

“if you don’t want it i’ll just keep it, then.” you nonchalantly shrug.

he snatches it out of your grasp. “i never said i didn’t want it.”

his eyes twinkle when he unwraps it. he glances up at you, “do you want a bite?”

“just a small one,” you reach out to grab the bar. 

sae moves the chocolate out of your reach, “open your mouth.”

you blink, tilting your head in confusion. he sighs, “i’ll feed it to you. i need to make sure you don’t bite off half of the bar.”

“do you trust me so little?” you scoff, crossing your arms. still, you open your mouth, heat rushing to your ears when sae tells you to take a bite. 

“is it good?” he stares at you, taking a bite of the chocolate when you nod. 

you both swallow at the same time, a smile lighting up your face. “i think you deserve another reward for sharing.”

his brows raise in intrigue, “another? gosh, you’re really spoiling me today, aren’t you?”

you take the pack of stickers out of the back, waving it in front of him. he gives you an unamused look. 

“i bought these for whenever you do something nice,” you place a sticker on his cheek.

“that’s stupid,” he frowns. 

“shut up, you look cute.” you pinch his other cheek.

he clicks his tongue, “whatever. now get out of my kitchen i need to continue making dinner.”

laughter spills out of your mouth when he pushes you into the living room. “do you want me to help?”

“no.” he huffs, “i can do it myself. now go relax or something, i’ll come get you when dinner’s ready.”

“are you sure you’ll be fine on your own?” you snicker, “i’d hate to have to evacuate the building.”

he lightly smacks your shoulder, “i can cook by myself!”

“sae–”

“just let me cook something for you this once,” he mutters. 

a soft, defeated sigh leaves your lips, “okay.”

“i’ll let you cook alone,” you smile, “just this once, though. i can’t leave you unsupervised for too long.”

he hums, patting your head before heading back to the kitchen. a small smile lingers on your lips as you make your way to the couch, turning on the tv.

it doesn’t take long for sae to walk over, two plates in his hands, and a self-satisfied smile on his lips.

you’d be lying if you said the meal was good. it was slightly charred, and a little too salty. you’re sure you would’ve managed to turn it into something decent if he’d let you help. 

still, as bad as the food was, you can’t help but eat it with a smile on your face, a warm, fuzzy feeling tugging at your heart. 

sae groans in annoyance when you place another sticker on his forehead. (your heart leaps when you notice the soft flush to his cheeks.)

he lets you help him wash the dishes, complaining when you flick soapy water in his direction. laughter fills the apartment when he flicks water back at you. time seemingly slowing down to let you savor the moment just a little longer before you head back to your room.

you drift off to sleep with a smile on your face. your heart drums against your chest when you recall the smile on sae’s face. 

(you wish he’d smile at you more often.)

you’ve discovered sae is much better at cleaning than he is at cooking. you’ve also discovered that he’s more thoughtful than he lets on. 

he tends to clean the apartment while you’re in class. he claims it’s because he absolutely must practice cleaning in order to get better. (you don’t believe him.) he swears he ensures the apartment’s clean by the time you get home because he can’t stand your nagging. (you still don’t believe him.)

it’s why you’ve had to go out and buy more stickers to reward him with. it’s also why you’re a little surprised to see him still mopping the apartment when you get back.

you take your shoes off, quickly putting on your slippers. “you’re still cleaning?”

“i’m almost done,” he hums, “practice ended a little later today.”

you make your way to the couch, careful not to slip on the floor, “why? is there a match soon?”

“there’s one tomorrow,” he turns to look at you, frowning when he sees you pull out a pack of stickers with a teasing smile on your face. (he still makes his way over to you when you tell him to come closer despite knowing your intention.) he watches you place the sticker on his shirt, a concentrated look in your eyes.

he sticks his tongue out at you when you look up at him with a satisfied grin. sae rests his hand on top of your head. “wanna come watch?”

you tilt your head to the side, “i’m not a big football fan.”

he playfully shakes your head, brows knitting, “have you ever even been to a football match?”

“no,” you pry his hand off your head, “but i don’t really see the point of going when i know i’ll get bored.”

he rolls his eyes, “you won’t.”

“how do you know?” you lean closer to him, raising a brow, a playful grin on your lips.

he leans closer to you, nose playfully scrunching, “because i’m going to be playing.”

your face scrunches up in mock disgust, “you’re making me not want to go even more.”

he teasingly clutches his heart in faux pain, a smile on his lips as he tries to hold back his laughter, “you’re so mean. you’re hurting me right now.”

“are you trying to make me feel bad?” you bite back a smile, fondly rolling your eyes. “because it’s totally working.”

“your sarcasm wounds me,” he frowns, shaking his head. “i can’t believe my roommate won’t support me at my match.”

you punch his arm, “keep this up and you won’t be eating any dinner.”

“fuck,” a hearty laugh escapes his lips, “when’d you get so mean?”

“i learned from the best,” you stick your tongue out at him. a soft laugh leaves your lips when sae scoffs, looking away. 

“are you really not going to go see the match?” he turns to you, pouting. you hate when he uses that little pout to guilt you. (you hate that you fall for it even more.)

you sigh, slumping against the couch, “i’ll think about it.”

“just give me an actual answer, damn.” he taps your forehead, “are you going, yes or no?”

a teasing smile creeps up your lips, “maybe.”

you laugh when he calls out your name in annoyance. he groans, glaring at you, “i hate you.”

“no you don’t,” you smile at him, “if you did you wouldn’t have asked me to go see you play tomorrow.”

his face flushes in embarrassment. “you’re not even going anyway!”

you rest your head on your hand, “i am, though.”

he stares at you, unimpressed. there’s a beat of silence before he huffs, the corners of his lips quirking up, “i really can’t stand you sometimes.”

“it’s not my fault you’re fun to tease!” you laugh. he flips you off before turning around to continue mopping. you sigh, stretching your arms up. a couple of seconds go by before you get up to make your way to the kitchen.

“where are you going?” 

“the kitchen,” you hum, turning around to look at sae. your ears burn when your eyes meet his. you wish you knew what goes on in his head when he stares at you so intensely. you wish you knew if he even knows he’s staring at you so intently. a small, awkward cough leaves your lips, “i wanted to get started on dinner.”

“you’re not even going to wait for me?” you fiddle with the hem of your shirt at his teasing tone. 

sometimes you wonder if he knows how domestic your dynamic has become. if he’s aware that people have started associating him with you, and vice versa. if he’s aware of the effect his words have on you. (you really wish you could take a peek inside his mind.)

“you’d just get in my way,” you tsk, “besides i wanna finish quickly, my head hurts a little.”

he quickly walks over to you, dragging the mop behind him, “have you taken any medicine?”

“i’m fine,” you wave off the hand he placed on your forehead, “it’s probably because i’m hungry.”

“are you sure?” your heart pounds against your chest at his concern. 

you give him a reassuring smile, “i’m sure. if it still hurts before i go to bed i’ll take some medicine.”

“fine.” he huffs, lips pursing, “but if you still feel bad tomorrow, promise you’ll let me know.”

you feel your heart squeeze. you gnaw on your bottom lip, twisting the hem of your shirt with your hands. 

“i promise.” your voice is barely above a whisper, it’s just loud enough for him to hear.

he smiles, patting your head, “don’t push yourself too hard, ok?”

sae turns around. you stare at his back, his name tumbling out of your lips before you can stop yourself. he turns around with a curious hum.

you feel like your heart rests on your throat. he patiently waits for you to continue. heat rushes to your ears and you wipe your hands against your shirt. “i also promise i’ll go see your match.”

the smile that lights up his face makes you wish it was tomorrow already. you want to go. (because you like seeing him smile.) you want to go see his match. (because it’ll make him happy.)

you want to see him do his favorite thing in the world. you want to share that happiness with him, despite not caring much for the sport. (because you think it’ll make him happy to see you there, even if he doesn’t say it. you want to be the reason he feels genuine happiness.)

you’re not there.

it’s the first thing sae notices when he looks at the stands. it’s what he keeps noticing whenever he turns to look at the stands throughout the match. when they reach halftime and you’re still not there, so he texts you. the second half starts and you’re still not there. 

the game ends and you never showed up. his brows knit when he checks his phone only to find out you never even read his messages. concern carves itself into him. 

he makes his way back to the apartment as quickly as he can, secretly hoping that nothing bad happened to you.

his heart beats faster, anxiety seeping into him when he opens the door and he doesn’t see your figure on the couch. 

sae hastily kicks his shoes off, dropping his duffel bag somewhere on the floor. he lets out a deep breath when he stands in front of your door, quickly knocking.

a couple of seconds go by before he knocks again, frowning when there’s no reply. he quietly opens the door, mentally apologizing. his eyes quickly scan the room for you. there’s a lump in his throat when he sees something stir under your bed sheets. 

he quietly walks over to your bed, slowly lowering your comforter. his chest tightens, brows knitting with worry when he sees your face twisted in pain, a slight sheen of sweat on your forehead. he grabs a tissue from your nightstand, gingerly wiping the sweat away. 

he sharply inhales when you stir under his touch. sae stares at you as you slowly open your eyes. his eyes fill with concern when he notices how heavy, and unfocused yours look.

he presses the back of his hand against your forehead, brows furrowing even more, “gosh, you’re burning up.”

“sae?” he can barely hear your voice. “why’re you here?” 

he clicks his tongue, wiping more sweat off your forehead.

“what about the match?” you blearily look at him, voice laced with soft concern. you try to keep your eyes open when he heads out, grogginess catching up to you when he returns with a bowl in his hands, a hand towel over his shoulder. 

he dampens the towel, wringing out the excess onto the bowl. sae gently presses it against your forehead, “have you had a fever all day long?”

“did i miss it?” his heart aches at how choked up your voice sounds. 

“i thought i told you to tell me if you weren’t feeling alright, dumbass,” he nags, carefully lifting your head up to prop another pillow under it. 

“‘m sorry.” your eyes fill with tears, a pout tugging at your lips. he gently adjusts the towel against your skin. 

“don’t apologize,” he softly tsks, “worry about getting better, not about missing the game, idiot.”

he panics when a tear rolls down your cheek, hastily brushing it away. his heart squeezes in pain when more tears freely roll down your cheeks. 

“i didn’t,” you sniffle, “didn’t wanna miss the game.”

he shushes you, grabbing another tissue to wipe your tears away. “it’s fine.”

“‘s not,” your breath quickens, brows knitting in sadness, “i promised.”

he firmly calls out your name, “it’s not your fault.”

“i promised,” you hiccup. sae frowns, reaching out to remove the towel from your forehead, pouting when he notices you’re still burning up. he quickly dampens it again before resting it against your skin once more.

“i’ll go get you some medicine,” he whispers, turning around to exit your room.

sae stops in his tracks when he feels something weakly tug at his fingers. he turns to look at you, sucking in a shaky breath when he sees you holding on to him.

“don’t leave.” you weakly try to pull him closer. 

there’s a slight flicker of hope in him that tells him you’re aware of what you’re doing despite your raging fever. but he quickly extinguishes it by reminding himself that you probably think you’re dreaming. (because there’s no way you’d tell him to stay with you otherwise, he’s sure of it.)

“i have to get you some medicine,” he mutters. still, he makes no attempt to free his hand from yours.

“stay.” he wants to. he wants to stay with you more than anything. but he needs to get you something to relieve your fever.

he sits on your bed, readjusting your grip on his hand, “i need to go get your medicine.” 

he gingerly readjusts the towel on your forehead, slightly smiling at you. his heart pangs with worry when he notices how clammy your hands are. 

sae’s eyes widen when you lift yourself up, wrapping your arms around his neck. the towel on your forehead drops into his lap. he feels you rest your head on his shoulders, frowning at the heat emanating from you. (still, he wraps his arms around you so you don’t fall.)

his worried eyes meet your hazy ones when you slowly lift your head to look at him, a sleepy smile on your lips. 

“so stubborn,” your hands cup his cheeks. 

sae freezes when he feels your lips press against his. his heart beats faster, blush spreading through his face like wildfire. 

a sharp inhale leaves his lips when he feels your hands drop from his cheeks, your body tilting back. he cups the back of your head before it hits the pillow.

his eyes scan your face. he lowers his head when he feels your feeble grip on his jacket. his eyes flicker to yours when you weakly tug him closer in an attempt to press his lips against yours again. 

he slowly lifts your head up, a soft huff of laughter slipping past his lips when a glimmer of anticipation flashes through your eyes. he presses his lips against yours in a short peck, a startled noise leaving his mouth when you pull him back in. 

his face heats up more and more every time you chase after his lips when he pulls away for air. he pants when you pull away, trying to catch your breath. he rests his forehead against yours, his breath fanning against your lips. 

you softly call out his name. butterflies erupt in his stomach. he really hopes you know you’re not dreaming. 

his arm tightens against you, the hand resting on the back of your head gently tilting it to the side. he doesn’t think twice before pressing his lips against yours again, a content sigh escaping him when you melt under his touch. 

he presses his lips against yours over and over again, gently lowering you back onto the bed. your kisses feel like they’re the very air he breathes. like he’ll suffocate if he’s apart from you for more than a second.

sae kisses you silly until he feels your grip against his jacket soften. he pulls away, panting, face ablaze, eyes looking at your sleeping face with a softness that is so unlike him.

he carefully removes your hands from him, lifting your comforter to tuck you into bed. a smile lingers on his lips as he places the towel on your forehead again. 

he quietly makes his way out of your room, pressing the pads of his fingers against his lips. his heart feels like it wants to jump out of his chest. a deep sigh leaves his lips. he makes his way to the front door, quickly putting on his shoes to go buy your medicine.

sae really hopes you get better soon. (he wants to kiss you again, and he wants to be sure you’ll remember it properly.)

if you thought sae was a bad student, he’s an even worse patient. he is the most uncooperative sick person you’ve ever met in your life. 

you suppose it’s only fair to put up with him since he took care of you while you were sick. (even if it makes you want to knock him unconscious.)

still, it never fails to make your blood boil when you find him wobbling around the living room with a broom in his hands.

“would it kill you to stay in bed?” you stomp over to him, prying the broom off his hands before propping it against the wall.

he blearily looks at you, pouting. he sniffles, “yes.”

you frown, grabbing his hand and dragging him to his room. he glares at you when you force him to lay down on his bed. 

“stay here while i get your medicine,” you point at him, glaring back. “or i’ll suffocate you with a pillow until you fall asleep.”

“you can’t be rude to me while i’m sick!” he angrily crosses his arms, scoffing.

it’s still surprising that he’s still in bed when you get back. it’s even more surprising that he’s staring at the door, his face lighting up when you enter. 

his nose scrunches up in disgust when he sees the cough syrup in your hands. he burrows himself in his comforter, turning his head away from you. 

“sae.” you gently call out, sitting next to him. a small smile blooms on your lips when he slowly turns to look at you. “you know you have to take your medicine to get better, right?”

“if i take my medicine,” he sneezes, “will you give me a reward?”

“yeah, sure, i’ll give you a sticker.” you absentmindedly hum, uncapping the syrup. 

“no,” he shakes his head,  “i want another reward.” 

your brows raise in confusion, your turn your attention to him. “what kind of reward?”

he smiles, lifting a hand to tap his lips and then tapping yours. your face heats up, jaw dropping. you gently swat his hand away, pouting. “you shouldn’t tease like that.”

“‘m not,” he sticks his tongue out at you, “i want another kiss.”

“another?” you blink in surprise. your eyes widen slightly when a cheeky smile creeps up his lips. 

“you kissed me when you were sick,” he snickers, nose scrunching up when you force the syrup into his mouth. 

“no i didn’t,” you frown. he forces himself to swallow the cough syrup, a choked gasp leaving his lips.

“you don’t remember?” he whines, sniffling when you shake your head. 

you feel a pang in your heart when sae looks at you, eyes swimming with sadness. “‘m sorry, sae.”

“‘s fine,” he playfully smiles, “i’ll just have to make up for it later.”

heat spreads through your face. a pout tugs at your lips, “don’t say stuff like that. i might take you seriously.”

“i’m being serious,” he sniffles, “wanna kiss you again.”

you shyly stare at him, shrinking into yourself. you suppose being sick must’ve made him bolder. or maybe he just wants to get back at you. but you have to admit it gives you the perfect excuse to make him stop being so difficult.

“i’ll kiss you if you stop complaining about taking your medicine,” you quietly huff, fingers playing with your shirt. 

your ears feel like they’re on fire when his face lights up. “but only when you get better! i don’t wanna get sick again.”

he nods, a satisfied grin blooming on his lips. “sounds good to me.”

there’s a beat of silence before you stand up. sae’s eyes widen, “where are you going?”

“i’m gonna go make you some soup,” you hum, “you should sleep while i’m gone.”

sae pouts, “‘m not tired.”

“that’s too bad, then,” you stick your tongue out at him. he clicks his tongue. 

“i’ll be back soon,” you pat his head. he huffs, pouting.

you barely take a step forward, yelping when you feel something yank you back. your brows knit in annoyance when you feel sae wrapping his arms around you. 

“sae.”

“‘m only going to sleep if you stay with me.” he mutters.

an amused smile tugs at your lips. you’re starting to think he’s cute when he’s sick. a little clingy, but cute. (you also think you might indulge him just this once.)

“fine,” you sigh. “but i’m leaving as soon as you fall asleep.”

you don’t. 

you’re not sure exactly when you fell asleep, but you’re sure it wasn’t dark outside when sae pulled you towards him. part of you wants to stay with him, just to let him sleep longer. but you also know you need to make him some soup. 

so, you gently try to pry yourself off of him. a soft groan leaves your lips when his arms tighten around you. 

his name tumbles out of your mouth. “i have to go make your soup.”

“‘m coming with you.” his voice sounds hoarse. (his nose sounds stuffy, too.)

“sae,” you try to pry his arms off, “you need to rest.”

“‘m going with you.” he huffs, “there’s nothing you can say to make me not join you.”

you begrudgingly decide to indulge him again. which is why he’s slumped over your shoulder as you make your way to the kitchen. it’s why he’s holding onto your waist, burrowing his face in your neck as you move around the kitchen. 

(it’s why your face feels like it’s on fire when he nuzzles closer to you, smiling.)

and you think that maybe him being a little too clingy isn’t that bad.

when a girl in your class asks you what sae is to you, you’re not sure what to say. 

you could say he’s your roommate, like you used to. but you don’t think he’d make himself extremely comfortable in your personal space if he was just your roommate. you could also say he’s your friend (much to everyone’s surprise.) but you’re not sure if he’d be so obsessed with kissing you whenever you’re both home if he was just your friend. 

(still, he’s not exactly your boyfriend, either. you’re not sure what he is. neither of you have brought it up before.)

either way, she wouldn’t be satisfied with the answer you give her. at least, that’s what you think with the way she glowers at you.

so, you just say he’s nothing. (which is a lie. but she doesn’t need to know that.) 

the result is what you expected, some angry huffing and empty warnings to stay away from sae. (not that it’d work seeing how you live with him.) except, things take a turn for the worse when your phone screen lights up, displaying sae’s name on it while it rings on the table. 

a pained expression flashes through your face when she clears her throat. you tilt your head up to look at her, an awkward, tense smile on your lips.

“i thought you said he was nothing to you?” she scoffs. 

“he is.” you internally curse how fast you replied. you hope she didn’t notice. 

she rolls her eyes, “then why do you have his contact saved with a star on your phone?”

you blink, your lips pressing into a fine line. “because he’s a star?” 

she doesn’t look convinced. (neither are you.) a loud, annoyed groan leaves her lips as she looks you up and down, crossing her arms.

“listen here, idiot,” she glares at you. anger flashes in her eyes when your phone rings again. “i don’t know who you think you are–” 

(you don’t know who she thinks she is, but with the way she seems to be unaware that you literally live with sae, you assume she must be some clueless freshman who happened to go to one of the football matches, saw sae, and became one of his many fans.)

“–but if you even consider the idea that sae might be into you–”

(you don’t even have to consider the idea, it pretty much solidified itself as a fact given with the way he kisses you until both of you are struggling to catch your breath whenever you two are alone.)

“–then you’ve got another thing coming,” she grabs your wrist, digging her nails into your skin. “i don’t know how someone like you got his number, but he doesn’t need freaks like you bothering him.”

she looks at you with contempt, “so stay away from him, or else–”

“or else what?” 

you both turn your heads to the door. her grip on your wrist loosens. you bite back a laugh when she removes her hand, shyly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“sae,” she takes a step closer to him. you hide your smile behind your hand when you see his clearly annoyed and disgusted expression. (you note he looks disheveled. you also notice his duffel bag slung over his shoulders.)

“or else what?” you snort at the clear anger in his voice. he glares at her, crossing his arms. she shrinks into herself, clearly nervous. 

“i was just trying to keep this freak away from you,” she plays with her hair. you feel embarrassed for her when she continues, “you shouldn’t have to deal with–”

“who the fuck even are you anyway?” he cuts her off, scowling. 

her eyes light up, “i’m–”

“leaving? i sure fucking hope so.” he scoffs, walking over to you. his face softens when he looks at you. 

sae extends his hand out to you, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips when you slip your hand into his. he reaches out for your backpack, quickly shrugging it on his shoulder before you can protest. 

“i thought you were one of the first people out of class,” he hums, lacing his fingers with yours.

your eyes flicker to the girl, who is still standing next to the table, face flushed in embarrassment. “i got held up.”

sae glances in her direction, scoffing in annoyance. “you’re still here?”

you can’t help but feel a little bad for her when her eyes well up with tears of embarrassment, her hands bunching up her skirt. “i thought–”

“you thought wrong,” he clicks his tongue, “now get lost.”

her eyes snap to yours, anger replacing the embarrassment, “i thought you said he was nothing to you!”

sae gasps, looking at you, hurt written all over his face. you look away, biting the inside of your cheek. he calls out your name, “why’d you say that?”

“i didn’t know what else to say,” you mumble. 

“say i’m your boyfriend!,” he huffs. “or do you not want to say that?”

heat floods your face. you hide your face in sae’s back when you hear choked sobs. you tug at his jacket, “can we just go home already?”

you take a peek at the girl from behind sae’s shoulder. “i don’t want to talk about this here.”

“fine,” he mutters, “but this conversation is not over.”

he drags you out of the classroom. you don’t look back, but you gnaw your bottom lip when you hear muffled sobs coming from behind you. 

you both walk in silence for a bit. a small smile blooms on your lips when sae slows down his pace to match yours. 

“i’m surprised you didn’t tell her off.” he hums. 

“you got there before i could,” you fondly shake your head, “i would’ve loved giving her a piece of my mind.”

a soft laugh leaves his lips, “i’m sure you’ll find another occasion to do so.”

the walk home feels quicker than usual. you suppose it’s because sae’s actually with you instead of over the phone.

you’re barely past the door to your apartment when sae wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. he relaxes when you wrap your arms around him. 

“if someone asks you what i am to you,” he nuzzles his face into your neck, “just tell them i’m your boyfriend.”

“are you sure?” your hands clench around his jacket. 

he pulls back slightly to look at you, confusion written all over his face. “yeah? am i not your boyfriend already?”

“i don’t know?” your brows knit in confusion. 

“i thought it was clear?” he blinks. “it wasn’t clear to you?”

“i don’t think i would’ve been threatened by one of your fangirls if it was clear,” you deadpan. 

“oh.” he presses his lips into a fine line. “well, now you know.”

your jaw drops, “you’re not even going to ask if i want you to be my boyfriend?”

“i think it’s safe to say we’re well past asking,” he stares at you. 

“still,” you pout, “it’d be nice if you did.”

“what, are you going to give me a sticker if i do?” he scoffs. 

“i was gonna give you a kiss, but if you don’t wanna ask, then–”

“would you let me be your boyfriend?”

laughter spills out of your lips, “you didn’t even let me finish!” 

“just answer my question.” he smiles. “and hurry it up too, i have to clean.”

you playfully shake your head, “so demanding. but, i suppose you can be my boyfriend.”

sae’s lips are on yours as soon as the words leave your mouth. you gasp in surprise when he nips at your lower lip. 

you’re not sure how long he kisses you for, but you feel dizzy when you pull away. you angle your head away from his when he chases after your lips again. 

“i thought,” you pant, “thought you said you had to clean.” 

“it can wait.” he breathes out. 

“i have to cook.” 

he angles your head back to face him, “it can wait.”

“but–”

he calls out your name with a smile, “it can all wait. just let me kiss you again.”

“okay.” you smile when he tilts your head towards his. 

you think you’re starting to understand sae’s obsession with kissing you.

when you think of itoshi sae, the first thing that comes to mind is: boyfriend. you’re not sure if you’re ever going to get used to calling him that. you’ve told him it still sounds weird, he simply says it sounds perfect. 

you’re also not sure you’ll ever get used to the many pairs of eyes staring holes into the back of your head. (you blame sae for insisting you wear his spare jersey to his games.)

still, you suppose you could put up with all the staring if it means you get to see sae play.

(even if it means you have to endure his showing off for the next hour.)

“did you see how great i was out there?” he puffs out his chest. 

“you were the best!” you smile when he laces his fingers with yours. “i think you deserve a reward.”

you bite back a laugh when his head turns to look at you, eyes twinkling with anticipation. “close your eyes.”

you can practically feel the excitement rolling off of him as he closes his eyes. you let go of his hand, snickering when his brows furrow. you quickly reach into your bag, pulling out the sticker sheet you stashed in there. 

a laugh leaves your lips when you gingerly place a star sticker on sae’s cheek. “you can open your eyes now.”

you heartily laugh when sae touches his cheek, glaring at you when he feels the outline of a star. he huffs, “you’re the worst.”

“shut up, you love them.” you flick his forehead. 

he tsks, poking your nose. “when you said i deserved a reward, i thought you meant a kiss.”

“i can kiss you if you want.” you cheekily smile at him. he huffs, crossing his arms.

he turns his head away from you, “you ruined the moment with those stupid, lukewarm stickers.”

“you say that as if you don’t stick them against your mirror.” you stick your tongue out at him, the corners of your lips lifting into a smile when his cheeks flush. 

“i hate you,” he frowns, looking at you.

“no you don’t,” you peck his cheek.

“whatever,” he grumbles, “let’s just go home already.”

you laugh when he grabs your hand, tugging you in the direction of your apartment. (you don’t mention the smile on his lips.)

“i’m going to cook today,” he laughs when you groan in disgust. “i’ve gotten better!”

“yeah, right.” you quip. “i think it’d be better if you clean while i cook.”

“what if we cook together?” he hums.

“you’ll just get in my way.” you smile, laughing when he shakes your arm. 

“what if we go out to eat?” he shrugs nonchalantly. (you still notice the flush on his ears.)

“itoshi sae!” you gasp dramatically, “are you asking me out on a date?”

he scoffs, cheeks turning bright red. “don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“i’d be honored to go out with the itoshi sae,” your voice drips with mischief. a soft gasp leaves your lips when he tugs you to him, wrapping his arms around you.

“i think it’s me who’s honored to go out with you,” he mumbles. you hug him back, nuzzling into him. 

“we still need to head home, though,” he pulls away, “i want to take a shower.”

“want me to join you?” you laugh when you see his scandalized expression.

“you’re so shameless!” he bites back a laugh, hiding his face behind his hands.

“oh, please, like we haven’t showered together before.” you playfully scrunch your nose. 

he clicks his tongue, “as tempting as it sounds, i really would like to go eat early today.”

you fondly roll your eyes, tugging him towards your apartment. “fine.”

“but i’m not opposed to taking a shower with you when we get back.” he bites back a smile when you smack his shoulder.

the walk home is filled with laughter, teasing smiles on both of your faces. and, for once, you’re glad to have an opinion of sae.

(especially because it’s based on the version of your sae, and not the one everyone else thinks he is.)

[juyeonszn]

SAME DREAM, SAME MIND, SAME NIGHT

PAIRING kim younghoon x f!reader

WORD COUNT 3.60k

GENRES smut ﹒little bit of fluff ﹒little bit of crack tbh

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, fawn when she can’t get enough of the brothers best friend trope, hyunjae and jacob are side characters that never actually make an appearance, younghoon is wearing a ghostface mask for 2 seconds 😵‍💫, reader is down bad, younghoon is also down pretty bad, size kink — the obvious yk, he’s big everywhere tbh, vaginal fingering, oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex, missionary/lowkey mating press towards the end LMFAOOOO i’m sorry i got carried away, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, pussy drunk!younghoon (i lied he’s down horrendous), creampie, the couch is a paid actor, last scene is kinda silly kinda cute, lmk if i missed anything!!

SUMMARY hyunjae really shouldn’t have left you home alone.

MORE and day 3 of fawntober has made her entrance 😈 i’m curious,,, how do we feel about these so far? i feel like i’m focusing on this challenge more than i am my school work 😭😭

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri

Being home alone has never been much of an issue for you. All throughout high school, you stayed home by yourself when your parents worked late and your brother had practice. And even now, well into adulthood, you’d never really been afraid of being alone.

If it were up to you, you’d live all by yourself. But unfortunately, rent was way too expensive to afford on your own. More fortunately, your brother had a spare room in his apartment for you. Pros included low grocery costs, low monthly rent, and free parking. Cons included living with your brother, living with one of his best friends, and having to deal with two grown men who sometimes acted like children.

It was a Friday night and both Hyunjae and Jacob were out, attending a Halloween party one of their friends was throwing. The holiday was only a few days away, so almost everyone you knew was hosting parties this weekend. Along with being content to stay alone in your home, you were even more so to never leave it. Going out and getting black out drunk or worse didn’t sound very appealing to you.

Nights like these were the rare occasion you got to be with yourself and some movies, snuggled with a blanket on your couch. Living with only men did not provide any luxuries except maybe someone to kill a spider every now and then. So you were abusing the fuck out of the opportunity, dressed in nothing but an oversized sweatshirt and some crew socks, a mug of hot cocoa in your hands as you watch the second installment of the Scream franchise. (Might as well get in the holiday spirit.)

There’s a knock at your door, causing you to raise an eyebrow. It was half past midnight and your brother mentioned that he and Jacob would be crashing over at Sangyeon’s after the party. You were also very much single, so you weren’t expecting anyone to come over either. The only other possible explanation was maybe a food delivery, but you hadn’t ordered anything.

You assume it’s someone at the wrong apartment and choose to ignore it, putting your focus back on the movie. Your mug raises to your lips, taking a long sip of the now lukewarm drink just as the movie’s plot begins to progress. Before you can fully revert into your concentration, there’s another knock.

A sigh escapes your mouth, setting down the mug and pausing the movie. Your sock-clad feet trudge over to the front door, expression flat as you undo all of the locks and swing it open. You jump at the sight in front of you, nearly dying of a heart attack on the spot.

A tall figure, dressed in all black and wearing a Ghostface mask stands on the other side, one arm resting on the threshold of your doorframe and their body weight leaning against it. When they realize they’ve almost killed you, they gasp.

“Oh my god, I forgot I was wearing this stupid thing.”

The person hurriedly removes the mask to reveal one of your brother’s other friends, Kim Younghoon. The tall male rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, apologizing for nearly making you faint. You clutch at your chest as your breathing stabilizes and your heart rate returns to normal.

“Jesus, Younghoon. Couldn’t you have said something before I opened the door?” You hold the heel of your palm to your forehead.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” he bows slightly, his eyes drifting off to something behind you. “Woah, wait, are you watching Scream 2 right now?”

“Uh, yeah?” At that moment you notice the silly coincidence that his costume happened to be Ghostface. “Do— um— do you wanna come in?”

“Yeah, sure.” He smiles, tucking his mask under his arm and following you into the apartment. He shuts the door behind him, making sure to hit all the locks as well.

As the two of you sit at the couch and you resume the movie, you purse your lips in confusion. You were curious as to why Younghoon was here in the first place, seeing as your brother was not. He had to have known that information himself considering he was dressed like he’d just come from a Halloween party. It only made sense that it was the same one Hyunjae and Jacob attended.

“Wait, so what are you doing here?” You ask, fiddling with the hem of your sweatshirt. Shit, you weren’t wearing any pants…

“Oh! Right,” he nods, ruffling his hair a bit. “I woke up really early this morning and it was starting to catch up with me so I decided to leave Sangyeon’s party to head home. Hyunjae asked if I could stop by to check on you since it was on the way.”

A simple call or text from your brother himself couldn’t suffice? You guess the fact that Younghoon really did live close by coupled with Hyunjae’s intoxication might’ve been a factor in asking his friend for the favor. All you can do is hum in response.

You weren’t all that upset by Younghoon’s sudden appearance either, and you were more than happy to invite him into your apartment any time. Out of all of your brother’s friends, excluding Jacob, Younghoon was probably your favorite. Aside from having a little crush on his handsome face, he was the easiest to get along with and you felt comfortable around him. Sometimes you wish he was your other roommate instead.

But then again, the thought of him being so domestic around you was enough to send you into cardiac arrest, much like his accidental jumpscare from earlier. Just imagining waking up to him making coffee and breakfast in the kitchen, wearing your Hello Kitty apron, had your pulse quickening. Oh God, bumping into him exiting the bathroom after he’s showered? Nothing but a towel wrapped loosely around his hips and droplets of water decorating his no doubtedly sculpted chest?

Did someone crank up the thermostat?

“Y/N? N/N. N/N… Y/N!”

You blink, snapping yourself back into reality. Younghoon waves his hands back and forth in front of your face, a cute pout on his lips. He really was not making this any easier for you. You clear your throat, hoping your face isn’t as red as it feels.

“Y-Yes?” Why did you have to stutter, you fucking loser? There you go, blowing your cover.

“I was just wondering if you’ve seen the movies before. But you kinda spaced out on me there. You okay?” He asks, face full of concern. It doesn’t do much to quiet the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. If anything, it makes it ten times worse.

“Oh… Um. Yeah, I have,” your voice wavers. “And I-I’m fine, I swear. Don’t even worry about me.”

Your efforts to convince him are futile and instead of de-escalating the situation, you just add further fuel to the fire. He leans in to you, permeating your personal bubble as he examines your expression. If he moved even closer, his lips could land on your own, and the idea of that has you shrinking in on yourself.

“Are you… nervous around me?”

Did he have any sense of self-awareness? Did he think he wasn’t intimidating in this proximity to you? Kim Younghoon’s new talent just dropped; driving you to the brink of insanity!

You swallow thickly, eyes a little wide like a deer caught in headlights. Your line of eyesight falters to his lips, even more kissable now that they’re so close to yours. You shake your head when you realize that you haven’t responded, praying and hoping you were keeping your composure.

“I don’t really believe you, Y/N,” he says, tone no louder than a whisper, but so voluminous in your empty apartment. “So, I’m gonna rephrase my question. Are you nervous to be alone with me?”

When you process his words, you come to the conclusion that, yes, you are nervous to be alone with him. Your brother and Jacob were usually around when he was, so you’d never been in this position before. You’ve never truly been alone with Younghoon. Perhaps that was because you knew you couldn’t keep your feelings to yourself, afraid you might fuck up and say something stupid to him.

A few seconds pass with nothing but the noise of the movie still playing in the background, your lips pressed together. His eyes bore into yours, dark and swirling with something that looks a whole lot like lust. Your silence is a sufficient answer for him, one of his hands coming up to support his weight on the armrest of the couch behind you. The other trails up your thigh, the sheer size of it big enough to nearly cover the expanse of your skin.

Younghoon’s lips part when he slides under your sweatshirt and finds that you’re not wearing anything underneath. His eyes flutter shut with a sigh, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

“Tell me you don’t want this, tell me no before I lose all of my self control and I can’t hold back.” He lets his forehead fall to your shoulder, voice hushed.

The better, rational part of you wants to say no. It wants to tell him that you shouldn’t do this, because what would your brother think? Hyunjae would beat his ass if he found out about the two of you, especially on the living room sofa. Hell, he’d beat your ass for sleeping with one of his friends. But the part of you that was unhinged and has dreamt of this moment for years wants to say otherwise.

That part is what has you spreading your legs, taking Younghoon’s hand and leading it to where you need him most.

“Don’t hold back.” You breathe into his ear, your free hand coming up to the back of his neck and pulling his lips onto yours.

You whimper into his mouth as he kisses you, his thumb rubbing tight circles on your lace covered clit simultaneously. He’s by no means gentle, tongue tangling with your own roughly and desperately, as if he’s been dreaming of this just as much as you. He halts his motions, creeping further under your sweatshirt to palm your bare breasts and grind his hips into yours.

Your back arches off the couch, the feeling of his large hand on your chest goading your arousal. Younghoon presses open mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, sucking and nipping your supple skin, licking the abused area to soothe any pain. You can feel him even through the material of his black cargo pants, already hard for you. Without seeing it, you have an inkling of what you’re working with.

Younghoon’s always been tall, standing at six feet with broad shoulders. As long as you’ve known him, his height alone was enough to scare people away, despite the fact that he had the personality of a hyperactive puppy. But now, his body looming over yours and his touch all over your skin, you can’t help but feel turned on by his size alone.

“Can I finger you?” He asks suddenly, slowly pushing up your sweatshirt so he can expose your cute panties. You nod frantically, biting the hem of your top to keep it out his way as he pushes your underwear down your legs with one hand. “Wanna prep you as best as I can, baby.”

He smiles at you again, and in spite of being in such a compromising situation, he looks so stunning. You remember the reason why you’ve had a crush on him this long, because aside from his beauty, he was also doting and caring, willing to go above and beyond for those near and dear to him.

You squirm a bit beneath him when his middle finger glides through your folds with ease, you slick providing enough lubricant for him. He all but groans, inserting the digit into your entrance. Your moans are muffled by your sweatshirt in your mouth, his long finger so deep inside of you it brushes that one spongy spot you could never reach yourself.

Younghoon uses his thumb to circle your clit as his finger thrusts in and out of you, kissing along your jaw. He glances down and moans at the sight of your tits jostling around with each pump of his finger. He lowers his head to attach his mouth to one of your nipples, tongue flicking the sensitive bud.

There’s so much going on, your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head when his finger curls and his teeth scrape the swell of your breast. If his slender middle finger wasn’t enough to send you over the edge, then the sound of him being so vocal was, vibrations spreading on the surface of your skin. Younghoon adds the slightest amount of pressure to your clit when he sinks his pearly whites into your collarbone, coaxing your orgasm.

He swallows your whines, waiting until you’ve stopped spasming under him to slow his assault. He pulls his hoodie over his head, helping you remove your sweatshirt afterward. Your chest heaves, watching with heavy eyelids as Younghoon scoots himself further down the couch. He brings himself eye level with your cunt, experimentally blowing air on your core. You shiver, biting the inside of your lip and running a hand through his hair.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he makes eye contact with you, pressing a sweet kiss to your clit. “Can't believe you’ve been hiding this from me.”

Younghoon pushes your knees up to your chest, hands digging into the fat of the backs of your thighs. The position gives him better access to your glistening cunt. He licks a long line from your hole to your pelvic bone, flattening his tongue against you and repeating once more.

“Fuck, Hoon,” you mewl, holding the back of your hand to your forehead. “That feels so good.”

He hums, lips wrapping around your clit and giving it a harsh suck. That particular action rips a loud moan from your vocal cords. He doesn’t get any gentler, sliding both his middle and ring fingers into you as he continues making out with your pussy. Your head feels light and airy, your brain incapable of producing any coherent thoughts aside from how badly you need his cock inside of you. His thick fingers aren’t enough, you need more. You need him to fill you completely.

The pads of his fingers continuously brush along your velvety walls, inching you closer and closer to your tipping point. You aren’t sure you can last much longer, especially with the promise of having him fully following this. It’s almost embarrassing how quickly he wound you up and knocked you over the ledge again, like he was already so familiar with what you needed.

He swirls his tongue around your clit, alternating between curling his fingers and straightening them. It’s as if he’s doing a come-hither motion. Your whines are uncontrollable at this point, tugging at his hair with every suckle of your engorged skin. The sting on his scalp has him moaning against your cunt, the resonance shooting through your whole body.

“Shit shit, I’m cumming— I’m—“

Your hips buck up towards his mouth, his skillful tongue and fingers still working your overstimulated pussy until you’re begging him to stop. Good God, you already finished twice and he hadn’t even properly fucked you yet. You’re a panting mess beneath him when he parts with your lower lips, chin shiny with your release.

“You can give me one more, right?” Younghoon licks his lips to taste the remnants of your sweetness, wrapping them around his fingers to do the same thing. You let out a strained moan, nodding and connecting your mouths to kiss him roughly.

He laughs into the kiss, pulling back to tuck your hair behind your ear. His eyes resemble crescent moons, crinkled at the sides. His duality gives you whiplash. How could someone so sexy be so adorable at the same time? It was beyond you.

He goes to unbutton his pants, kicking them along with his underwear off his legs as he leans down to kiss you again. You gasp when you’re finally given the opportunity to see his dick, hard and flushed for you. You reach down to stroke him, reveling in the hiss he makes when your thumb glides over his sensitive tip.

You guide him to your entrance, but he pauses. “Wait, I don’t have anything on me.”

“It’s okay, Hoon,” you place a comforting hand on his cheek. “I trust you. I’m clean, I’m assuming you’re clean, and I’m on birth control. I wanna feel you— all of you.”

His head falls to your shoulder once more with a groan, his cock prodding your hole almost instantaneously. You exhale through your nose heavily, the stretch burning so good that you’re raking your nails down his back. Even the feeling of his broad shoulders and back muscles beneath your fingertips sends you into a frenzy. He’s just so huge. You’d never wanted to be ruined by someone as much as you wanted to be ruined by him.

Younghoon coos when you start to whimper, slowly pushing himself all the way in to his pelvic bone. He massages the back of your thighs, still pushed to your chest, pulling out gently before ramming his entire length back in. He does this a few more times to ensure your cunt has adjusted to his size, but the thought of you wrapped so tightly and warmly around him is enough to make him bust without going through the motions fully.

Your sweet pussy is so inviting, sucking him in like a fucking aspirator. He risks a glance down to where his hips meet yours, moaning so uncharacteristically at the sight of you enveloping his cock, coating it with your previous release. You clench when the sound hits your ears, provoking one of your own.

His thrusts are calculated, dragging them out so they’re deep rather than shallow. Despite not pounding into your brutally, like you were used to with past partners, you think you like this better. You can feel all of him this way. Every vein, every pulse, every fucking graze along your insides— as if he was meant to be there.

“You’re taking me so— fuck— so well, baby,” he breathes, voice hoarse in the crook of your neck. “Don’t know how much longer I can last.”

“G-God, you’re s-so b-big,” you cry, sinking your fingernails into his shoulder blades. “I feel so— oh my god— feel so full.”

You look so pretty underneath him, he doesn’t even care that he might go to hell for fucking you. He’d let Hyunjae murder him any day of the week if it guaranteed his spot above you, cock buried to the goddamn hilt. He places his forearm behind your knees, pressing your legs flat and practically folding you in half so he can speed up his tempo.

Younghoon throttles into you at a near animalistic pace, skin slapping on skin echoing throughout your apartment. You’re fucked stupid, noises that you can’t comprehend leaving your mouth to punctuate every single drive of his dick in your cunt and eyes fluttering shut. His tip kisses at that one spot that scratches your itch each time.

One particular gyration of his hips snaps that cord in your stomach and you’re cumming a third time, jaw going slack as your body spasms with the force of your orgasm. You produce no sound, the wave of your release cresting like a jolt of euphoria to your head, Younghoon following suit. However, his reaction is the opposite, so cacophonous and pornographic that it prolongs the twitching of your velvet-like walls, milking him dry of everything he can offer.

As both of you come down from your peaks, oxygen recirculating in your brains, Younghoon sighs and slips out of you. You wince, still so very sensitive from all three of your orgasms and how aggressively he was hitting it those last few minutes. You watch with choked groans as a combination of your cum flows out of your cunt onto the sofa.

Hyunjae was going to lose his mind.

“Shit, we gotta clean this up,” you panic, finally sobering up and moving into a sitting position. “I’d prefer to live long enough to tell you how much I like you.”

“Woah, wait,” his eyes widen animatedly. “Y-You like me?”

You gape at him, confused how after everything you just did together, he would think you didn't have feelings for him. “I just let you fuck me on the couch I share with my brother and Jacob. Do you think I’d do that if I didn’t like you?”

“I dunno. Maybe you were just really horny?” He shrugs, scratching the back of his neck shyly, like he hadn’t just rearranged your insides six ways to Sunday. You get on your knees, capturing his lips in a soft kiss that portrays all the words you could’ve ever wanted to say and more.

“Does that answer your question?” You ask, pecking them once again. “I like you so much, Younghoon. I have since, like, my freshman year of uni.”

He smiles warmly, cupping your cheek and caressing it with his thumb. “That’s funny because I’ve liked you since then, too.”

“That makes me so happy to hear,” you giggle, nuzzling into his palm. “Okay, now get up so I can deep clean this fucking couch.”

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[mintmatcha]

i am so horrifically into virgin tomura in the modern au like if you are able PLEASE elaborate on him more im obsessed

"Yo, newbie!" Your voice cuts through the heavy beat of his music. "Need a ride home?"

Tomura doesn't remove his headphones. He just unties his apron and jams it into the locker, slamming the door after. His skin itches with how you watch him, twirling your little lanyard with your shitty smile.

"No."

"Aw, come on. I'm not letting you walk home- it's freezing out there." You pat your thighs and whistle low, beckoning him closer. "Come here, boy! Come on, get in the car-"

It takes a second for him to realize what you're doing.

"I'm not a fucking dog."

Your smile grows even bigger. "Oh yeah? Then, quit acting like a bitch."

Thump. Tomura's chest pounds and he's not sure why. Just one, weird heartbeat, just enough to knock him off of his guard. The sound blasting in his ear ends, a gap of static just before the next one roars to life. Your eyes crinkle as you watch him and you both know that you're won.

He follows you to your car like the dog he is.

"Hold on, let me-" You scramble over the seats, feet kicking outside the car as you toss bits of trash and clothing into the back seat. Tomura pretends not to notice the thong you've tucked into the glove box-- but he'll be remembering that.

"This is a shitbox."

"At least I own a car, bitch," you say, tossing him your phone. He barely catches it; the cracked screen eats into the pads of his fingers. "Put your address in and lets go."

Against better judgement, he opens the passenger side door and slides it. The heater is roaring, ranking out as much lukewarm air as it's little engine can muster. The warmth loosens his tight joints and for a second he's grateful.

Then, the sticky, sweet scent of fruit hits him, lingering in the back of is nose and in his mouth. It's peachy, maybe even melon, with some sort of something on the back that has him sniffing the air even as he grimaces.

"What the fuck is that smell?"

"My perfume, you bitch," you laugh, jamming the car into drive. "I'm going to the club later and want to smell good.."

"You smell like fucking..." He knows this scent. Tomura furrows his brow, trying to come up with it. "White gummy bears."

"That's exactly what I was going for!" You slap the wheel excitedly. As the car rolls into the highway, lights strobing by, Tomura finds himself watching how it hits the planes of your face. "Smell like a snack and hope someone eats you later."

You're pretty. Nice, too. There's no doubt that someone isn't going to snatch you up and spread you open tonight, probably someone strong and tall and hot-

"Whore." He says it and hopes you don't hear the jealousy.

"Aw, okay, Mr. Grumpy. Maybe take a shower and you'll find your own fuck buddy for the night.

"Some of us are ugly."

"I think you're pretty cute."

He waits for the punchline, the jab, the tease, but it doesn't come. The compliment, as weak as it is, just sits there between you, waiting to be acknowledged. He breathes in through his nose and tastes the sweet air again.

"Thanks."

"Don't thank me-- it's just the truth."

Just like the scent, that statement lingers, haunting him even as he leaves your car and goes inside his shit hole apartment. It smells like weed and burnt popcorn, but his mouth is still damn with the candy sweet thought of you.

"Yo, buddy, I'm going to the store for munchies." Spinner is there and already blazed, swaying side to side as he talks. "Want anything?"

Tomura usually says no, but today he surprises himself.

"Pack of gummy bears."

[ddarker-dreams]

Tastiest Treat.

Scaramouche x Reader.

Word count: 1.1k. 

“No.”

Scaramouche shuts you down the mere second you excitedly enter his line of sight. It isn’t an unexpected reaction, that incessant scowl often seen on his otherwise pretty face. You think looking grumpy might be a hobby of his. How pitiful is that? This is exactly why your presence in his life is a need, not a want.

You consider voicing this sentiment, only to wisely decide against it. To get what you want today, you’ll need to choose your battles carefully. This isn’t a fight you should pick.

… Maybe tomorrow, instead.

“Huh? I haven’t even said anything yet,” you reply.

He waves off your faux offense as if he were swatting a pesky bug. Which, if his current miffed expression is anything to go by, is exactly how he currently views you. That’d be hot water for anyone else. You’d say the temperature feels more lukewarm than anything. Comfortable enough to take a bath in.

“You didn’t need to. Your expression alone is enough to serve as a sufficient warning. Whatever strange request it is you’re inevitably about to ask of me, my answer is no.”

“I hope you’ll set aside your prejudiced misconceptions for just a moment to hear me out,” you reply without missing a beat. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose yet doesn’t attempt to stop you. He probably knows better than to try. “I only want to play a simple game with you. Something tells me you’ll enjoy it more than you think.”

The sales pitch must not have been as effective as you hoped, for he shakes his head. “Enjoyable for you, maybe. For someone who enjoys using the word ‘sadistic’ to describe me, you sure do take a fair share of delight in my torment.”

“It’s not torment, it’s character building. As the only person who isn’t at risk of an excruciating death for so much as breathing in your vicinity, I consider it my sworn duty to keep you humble. Or the closest thing you can get to it.”

He gives you a thin smile. “You sure do love testing my patience, don’t you?”

“I don’t think I love it nearly as much as you do. Now, for the game,” you pull out a thin biscuit-like stick covered in chocolate. “We both start eating from each end. You lose if your mouth comes off it or the opposing player gets to the middle first. Simple, right?”

Scaramouche eyes it warily. “You know I don’t care for sweets.”

“But you care for me, so let’s give it a shot anyway.”

(He noticeably doesn’t deny this).

“My answer is still no. Honestly, I can’t take my eyes off you… the second I do, you’re running off coming up with the most half-witted ideas. Should I follow through with that threat of tying you to my wrist after all?”

The grin he gives you is supposed to be menacing, you presume, but you’re undeterred. Such trials are the spice of life. Besides, you’re already well acquainted with his questionable sense of humor. “Thanks for reminding me to always keep a pair of scissors on hand. Anyway, if you really still don’t want to, then well…”

He inhales, bracing himself for the worst—

“That’s fine then.”

“What?” He blurts out, having all the grace of a newborn fawn trying to cross a frozen lake seconds after being born. Further forgetting the virtues of propriety, he points at you, his senses on the highest alert.  “That… isn’t how this works. How you work.”

The Harbinger keeps you at arm’s length, as if you were actually any threat to him. Apprehension radiates off him in waves. You examine the treat in your grasp with something akin to yearning. Purposeful silence ensues, multiplying the already building tension in the air. He’s waiting with bated breath for whatever stunt you pull next.

You don’t keep him waiting long.

“I mean, I would’ve liked to play the game, since, y’know, it’s possible we might’ve ended up kissing,” you drop your shoulders while he processes the information being presented to him. “I guess I could look to see if someone else might take me up on my offer… well, sorry to bother you—”

“Hand it over.”

“Oh?”

“I forbid you from playing this ‘game’ with anyone else. After all, you said…” he trails off, his face flushing with color, “That… that a kiss could potentially arise as a result. I can’t allow that. Game or otherwise. Because I’m… ahem… the only person who has kissing privileges.”

You blink, finding the swiftness of your success unexpected. There were a few more plans hidden up your sleeve that will get to say there now. You underestimated how quick he’d be to disregard his pride so long as a kiss is on the table. Not wanting to waste any more time in case he regains his temporarily cast-aside dignity, you set the thin biscuit inside your mouth.

Scaramouche latches onto the other end with unrivaled vigor. You’d almost think his life was on the line by how seriously he’s taking this.

Your strategy is a simple one — the classic little nibbles that err on the side of caution. He mimics your approach, having to take a step forward to remain balanced from how close your bodies are becoming. From this angle, you’re treated to an unobscured view of his pretty features. The glassiness of his indigo eyes, the brushstrokes of red surrounding them, the cute creases from his nose being scrunched up in concentration.

There’s precious little you wouldn’t do to experience a sight like this.

You’re both making decent headway, though you’re the slightest bit closer to the middle. Victory should be within reach, so long as you keep this up—

Hm? What’s this pressure you’re feeling against your lips?

Soft, oh so soft. Warm too. Caressing, the slightest bit greedy.

Scaramouche is smirking at you, evidently very pleased with himself, savoring each second of your bewilderment. You mentally scour through the files of your short-term memory. He had moved so fast that your eyes could barely process the motion before them. In less than the time it took you to blink, he had taken a sizable bite, eliminating what little distance remained between your faces.

His teeth tug your lower lip toward him lightly when he pulls away, his eyes lidded. “I got to the middle before you did. Wouldn’t you say that means I won? What’s my prize?”

“Truthfully, I hadn’t thought that far ahead,” you admit, to which he snorts. “Uh… best two out of three?”

He wipes a few stray crumbs from the corner of your mouth with his thumb.

“If I get to keep doing that, then we can go through your whole stupid box. Try me.”

[transmascissues]

i’m two weeks post-op from top surgery. here’s what i’ve learned from a week of figuring out how to shower:

i’m able to undress, get my bandages off, and dress afterward by myself now. i have very hypermobile joints though (especially in the joints in my arms — i can typically zip up a back zipper or apply sunscreen to most of my back without help) so i’m not sure if someone less bendy with my current level of limited motion would be able to do it without help. i can’t however put all of the bandages back on by myself because it takes two sets of hands to hold the pads on while wrapping the ace bandage, and the drain sites are too far back for me to put bandaids on myself.

showering is the only time i have my ace bandage off, and it’s a totally different experience walking around and moving my arms without anything holding my chest in. i’m super sensitive to movement now, and probably look a lot more flexible when i’m wearing it than when i’m not even though the bandage restricts my movement because when i’m not wearing it, i’m much more aware of how my skin is being moved around when i do things. it’s not necessarily an uncomfortable thing most of the time, it’s just very sensitive.

along those lines, i was also surprised to find out i can’t put my arms down as much with the bandage off as i can with it on. my incisions wrap all the way under my armpits at almost hit my back, so without anything between them and my arms, things get uncomfortable pretty fast.

my center of balance being off was definitely the most obvious challenge i hit right away. my shower is a hybrid shower and bath, so i have to step over a decently high ledge to get in and out, and it’s a pretty shaky process, especially since i have to keep my chest away from the stream of water and still can’t really use my arms to steady myself. it’s also something i have to be cautious of while i’m in the shower, since being off-balance while in a slippery shower isn’t a great combination.

i was really nervous about how the water running down my chest would feel, so for my first shower i tried to take it slow and just let a few small streams run down it before going for the full thing. as it turns out, that was a mistake because i’ve found that the faster, wider streams with more water are a lot less uncomfortable (mostly i don’t feel any discomfort at all), while the smaller drips are really unpleasant because they’re slower and totally focused on one specific spot.

i haven’t been taking super hot showers but they definitely have been decently hot, not lukewarm or anything, and i haven’t had any issues with the heat on my incisions being uncomfortable. i am still careful with how hot i set it though — i usually start it on a pretty lukewarm setting and gradually go up once i’m in just to be safe.

i’m still having a lot of trouble pushing down on bottles with pumps, so i had to unscrew the tops off of all of my shower products, and i’ve just been pouring out the amount i need.

it’s always good to keep products low so you don’t have to overextend your arms to reach them, but i’ve found that bending forward at the waist without compression is super uncomfortable — it feels like gravity is dragging my chest down. so when i have to pick something up from a lower spot, i’ve been keeping my torso upright and just crouching down with my hips and knees to reach it instead of bending forward like i normally would.

when i’m putting any products in my hair, i’ve found the easiest way to do it is to flip my hair forward so my head is at hand level instead of trying to reach up. i can reach up if i go one side at a time and tilt my head to the side to meet my hand but that’s much harder and i still can’t really get the very back of my head that way. the one issue is that i can’t just flip my head up to get all my hair back over my head once i’m done, so i have to take the time to sort of fold it back before i straighten up again.

when i’m rinsing my hair, i do have to just lean back and do my best with reaching my hands up because i can’t face the water to rinse with my hair over my head. this is by far the most unstable position for me — standing with your back and shoulders hunched, your arms tucked in, and your head all the way back isn’t great for balance — so i always make sure to have one hand resting on the wall while i run my hair under the water like that.

even though i’m showering, i’m glad i got a bunch of body wipes because there’s still really not much i can do as far as washing my body. almost everything would require putting some part of my chest directly in front of the stream, and with the way my mobility is still limited it would be hard to get the soap in most places anyway, so i’ve been staying on the safe side. i can imagine it being possible with a detachable shower head, but i have one and have absolutely no chance of being able to reach it, so i think it’s safe to say there’s no good way for me to wash my body in the shower without someone else helping.

i typically don’t have a bath mat outside my shower because my sensory issues do not like the way carpet feels under wet feet, but i’ve been sucking it up and using one for now because i don’t want to slip on my way out and i know that’s much more likely at the moment. i also don’t lock the door like i normally would, so if i need help i can just call for someone in my house and they’ll be able to get in.

drying myself off is a very slow process. i can’t really rub back and forth or press very hard and my ability to reach certain parts of my body with the towel is limited, so i mostly have to just swish the towel over myself until it gets the heavy stuff off and just let the rest air dry. i’ve also been using a separate clean towel to pat my chest dry, just to make sure i’m keeping the incisions clean, especially since my body isn’t getting thoroughly washed. when i’m drying my stomach off, i always make sure to move the towel up toward the incision so i don’t tug on it at all.

my surgeon has me putting aquaphor on my incisions after showers, so i’ve been directly touching them for the first time. i was super nervous because when she put the aquaphor on it was super unpleasant, but i’ve found that i’m much gentler doing it on myself and it’s not bad at all. i try to be super diligent about washing my hands throughout the whole process because i don’t want to get something on my fingers without realizing and then touch my incisions with it still there or touch my incision and then put my fingers back into the aquaphor with bits of scabby stuff still on my hands. i usually dry my hands on a clean washcloth instead of my usual hand towel just to make sure everything’s clean; that’s probably overkill, but it makes me feel better.

since my ace bandage just wraps around and the tightness is completely up to how we wrap it, my boyfriend took a picture of where the bandage started and ended when my surgeon put it on me, and now, every time we put it on me we basically just match where she put it. that way, we know it’s always at least close to the tightness she thought was appropriate. we have had to adjust over time though, mostly to make it tighter as the bandage loosens from me wearing it.

i’ve found that getting my bandage put back on after having it off for a while always sets my sensory issues off and no matter how well we put it on, it feels too loose and in the wrong place and like it’s falling and generally not great. i’ve found that the best way to readjust to having it on is to sit with my back against a pillow and a mastectomy pillow around my chest. that way, the whole bandage is held in place and doesn’t move around for a while, which gives me some time to get used to it again.

i’m always pretty tired after showering — it’s by far the longest i’m ever standing up and the most i ever have to use my arms. that’s not super surprising, but it’s worth mentioning. i’m writing this as i’m crashed on the couch just resting and doing nothing physical because i took a shower a little while ago, and i can definitely still feel it even though it’s been a bit.

overall, showering has been a really great time and i honestly really look forward to it (and not just because i get to be less gross). it’s the only time i get to just look at my new chest and sit with it and interact with it take a million pictures of it and get my first taste of walking around my house shirtless and all that good stuff, and i’m fully taking advantage of that time. it’s also been an good opportunity to monitor how things are healing — the various discomforts and pains i get during the day stress me out a lot less when i can look at my chest and see that things are healing well, and even when something looks like it might not be ideal, i feel a lot better knowing i can keep an eye on it and instead of stressing out about it constantly, i just keep reminding myself to give it some time and check on it next time i shower.

i didn’t really know going in what showering would be like at all — i knew some people need help and some people can do it independently, but i’ve never seen someone talk about what doing it independently is actually like. i’m sure it looks different for everyone, but this is what it’s like for me!