#oh!! one more anecdote you might enjoy!!

[napping-sapphic]

Hey it's me again, sorry to write this much but the perfect song idea based on the clothes borrowing struck me like a lightning so imma tell you so you can listen to it and maybe tell me if you like it? 🌻

Btw it's "favorite t-shirt" by Jake Scott

Enjoy! (Totally not on my wrapped from last year)

Your silly friendly neighborhood masc✨

Ooh no don’t apologize!! Even if i get a little slow about answering them sometimes I always enjoy getting asks :)!!

I did like it!! He’s got a very nice voice it’s relaxing :) it reminded me of high school when someone i had a crush on would end up wearing one of my jackets for assorted reasons, it always gave me butterflies lol thank you for the recommendation!! <3!!!

[sibsteria]

hello, can you do headcanons of klaus mikaelson being a simp for you? 💘

yes of course, lovely!

Warnings: large fluff, a bit smutty, soft!klaus, protective!Mikaelsons

Summary: Klaus Mikaelson is the malewife simp of the century(ies)

not proofread, don’t kill me 😭🫶

the first time he met you, he studied you, up and down, I feel as if it would be at a Mikaelson ball, or maybe the Mystic Grill

I mean, eyes roaming

so our man just felt he had to introduce himself

he presents his hand out for you to shake

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before, I know I would have remember a face like yours.”

“Oh, wow, you’re charming.”

He gives an amused smile, a soft chuckle

“I prefer the name Klaus Mikaelson, please tell me what name could possibly match such a person of beauty?”

I feel as if he wouldn’t assert his name as Niklaus right off the bat ygm besties

he is leaving you blushing though

you’re probably a vamp so congrats, he’s got eternal dibs!

definitely lays a gentle kiss to your hand when you tell him your name

“I suppose I’ll be seeing you.” he lingers in your presence before slowly walking away

you’re just- astounded, who gave him the right to be so alluring?

I ain’t gonna lie to you, he went home that night and stalked for your information

he knows where you live, your next of kin, the bar you frequent

so an accidental bumpings into are already in his workings

“Ah, hello love, what a surprise!”

he’d buy you all your drinks, making sure to keep any eye on them if you left the bar for a moment if you’re human (you probs aren’t)

you would spend the whole night together

just chatting and swapping anecdotes

flirting

he charms you with poems, jewellery and just spending time getting to know you as if he didn’t know everything already

he will flaunt his money around

“I should take you to dinner, tell me love, do you enjoy pasta?”

if your answer is yes then well than enjoy your authentic italian dish! the flight wasn’t even too long

you had both fallen off the cliff, smitten for one another

when you’re dating he absolutely follows wherever you go

accidentally

but you know better

and you don’t mind, he’s always looking out for you

long parting kisses

I’m talking tongue, with his hand tangled in your hair

ass slaps as you walk away, making you present a shy smile

when your more comfortable around each other, you don’t hesitate to do it back

a faux shock face from the hybrid

“well, love, I never listed you as the kinky type. I do say, I’m quite impressed.”

get ready for marks

he litters you in hickeys, even if they might fade by the end of the day

he’s going to try

if you’re human he’ll have you wear a vial of his blood around your neck

for emergencies

and a fun conversation for anyone who comes on to you

if he’s in a heated argument discussion with someone, his face will immediately soften when you walk through the door

“hello, love.” a passion induced coma hoods his eyes

will try to protect you from violence and danger but he does know you can handle yourself

“Klaus, I can snap a neck like a motherfucker-”

“I know, darling, but why do that when I can do it for you?”

hours of cuddles

hours

just you in his arms, with his nose nuzzled into you

he’s a softy, really

you get along with his family, it’s a given

Rebekah is literally you’re sister from another mister

shopping sprees with her unlimited credit card

knowing each other’s styles

“How did you know?” She pouts as you hand her a pair of heels that she had been eying up

she’s just overjoyed she actually had a true friend that she can trust

someone she can rely on

you are inseparable

and Klaus is absolutely jealous

“may I please have my girlfriend back, dear sister?” an edge to his tone

“if you must, you annoying rat bastard.”

but you love them

Elijah is eternally grateful for your calmness

and your ability to tame the beast

“I must say, you impress me, Miss L/n.”

you’re utterly baffled

Elijah is not an easy man to impress

but your besties anyway, now 🙄🤚

you often pick up ties that you think would suit him

he smiles and shakes his head

“I do hope you insist on keeping her around, Niklaus.” he uses a low whisper to his brother.

“I don’t assume I’m ever letting her go.”

whilst you have managed to wrap him around your little finger

he won’t hesitate to rip someone’s throat out for touching you

say you’re at a bar

he left for a moment to answer a call, his mistake

he comes back, you’re face filled with discomfort and annoyance as this poor man would not stop verbally harassing you

but that was not enough of an action for you to snap his neck yourself

but as he’s walking towards the bar, he watches as the stranger lets his hand trail down your back until he reaches your-

Klaus has already sped towards him

grabbing his hair and tearing out his throat

his chin, neck and chest are dripping with blood

your surprised at the lack of screams around you, coming to the conclusion that he must have compelled the drinkers to not bat an eye at supernatural goings-on

“are you kidding-”

“sweetheart, don’t get angry-”

“I just got blood stains from last week out of that shirt!”

he pauses his spiel, a blushing smile across his face

you weren’t repulsed by the violent display he’d put on

“have I ever told you how much I love you?”

“on occasion.” you roll your eyes, pulling him in for kiss

the blood coats around your lips but you don’t mind

“I love you too, Nik.”

that was the first time you used such an intimate nickname

and he loved it

hearing such words fall from your mouth

you both get blood drunk nightly

but refusing to feed on kids, because you have some morals

and you push Klaus to erase after eating because why draw attention to himself, he already has a healthy crowd of enemies

and that is where Elijah expresses gratitude

if you ever get kidnapped on that one occasion you were caught off guard

be ready, the cavalry are coming

a crowd of angry originals, breaking down walls and tearing out hearts

“shit! I didn’t know she had all of ‘em at her beck and call-” one of your kidnappers scream, as he watches his cronies drop to the floor

“mate, I advice you shut your mouth, in fact- I’ll do it for you-” queue Kol punching his head from his shoulders, it rolls nicely onto the floor in a pool of blood

they had you on a vervain drip

“oh, love, I’m so sorry.” Klaus is by your side, ripping out the tubes, hugging you close

Kol is your annoying little brother, but mostly a sweetheart to you

you two tend to sneak out together, infiltrating house parties

“if Nik finds us, he’ll kill you!” you scream over the music

“he can try, darling!” he howls with laughter, a bottle of his chosen alcohol spilling down his throat

he does find you

“why in the world, did you think I wouldn’t notice you leaving my side?” he caresses your cheek

“don’t torture him, we just wanted a bit of fun.” you whisper, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth

“I suppose you’re right, I have faith in his protection, he loves you like family.” begrudgingly letting Kol off the hook

he has fucked you on every surface in his home

“not on the dinner table, Nik-” Beks

“I eat off that counter, pests.” Kol

“Is it a rule that you have to infect every piece of furniture in our home?” Elijah

*noises of disgust* Finn

*eye roll* Freya

still counting how many public displays he can get away with

he has tied your ex to a chair and made him watch as he gave you orgasm after orgasm

I mean, he murdered him afterwards, so-

“was there any need?”

“yes.”

in his mind, you’re already together forever

he lets you be in possession of one of his daggers, just in case his family give you any problems

“you know I won’t need to use it-”

“just humour me, keep it safe.”

it’s never boring

y’all he’s in love 😻

[jeankluv]

Birdie - Satoru Gojo | Chapter 06

Words: 4,5k

Summary: You didn’t like him, at all. But due to your bad luck you would have to be forced to work with him and different circumstances end up leading you to the fact that perhaps the word dislike is not the one you use to describe him.

ac: _3aem

Tags: modern au, college au, fem!reader, academic rivals, he fell first, fluff, old money Gojo Satoru, abusive parents, slight slow burn, Satoru is a softy, secondary couple (Geto Suguru x oc), a bit of angst, no use of y/n, eventual smut, Gojo plays basketball

Authors note: I need y’all to chose between yes or no. Depending on which one wins, something will happen in one of the future chapters 🤭 also thank you for the support ❤️

Materialist | previous chapter | next chapter

Fic playlist

Gojo parked the car near the restaurant you had mentioned. It was a street ramen restaurant, a place you had visited countless times before. The ramen bowls were generous, and the prices were quite affordable, much to the relief of your wallet.

Luckily, you found a place to sit and perused the menu.

“I already know what I'm going to order.” You smiled, setting your menu aside.

“Oh, really?” He glanced up.

You nodded. “The house specialty with extra spice.” Just thinking about it made your mouth water.

“You like it spicy?” He looked at you with a hint of horror.

“Of course I do, Gojo. Don't tell me you don't?” Gojo nodded in response to your question. “Shit, most of the dishes here have some spice to them.”

“It's okay, it's just for one day.” He shook his head.

As the conversation flowed lively and you discovered new things about Gojo, the weight that had been on your shoulders since you stepped foot in the lake slowly fade away.

“Gojo…” You whispered after thanking the waiter who brought you dinner. “About what happened at the lake.”

“You don't have to tell me.” He gently interrupted. “If you want to tell me, then I'll listen and support you. But... if it's too much for you, then you don't have to tell me anything, birdie.” He smiled, and you could feel a warmth spreading in your chest.

“Thank you.” You whispered.

At times, you completely forgot that you didn't like Gojo, and another feeling you wanted to suppress emerged.

You shook your head and picked up the chopsticks to start eating. As usual, it was delicious and spicy as you liked it. You glanced through your lashes at Gojo and saw him struggling with the spiciness of his ramen, even though it was one of the mildest they had.

“Are you sure you're okay?” You stifled a laugh as you watched him fan himself with his hand.

“Yes, of course.” He coughed a bit. “It's just that... I'm not used to it.” He tried to smile.

“We can order milk, so the spiciness goes away better.” Gojo nodded deliberately, and you couldn't help but laugh.

You signaled for the waiter to bring a glass of milk. Watching him take a few sips and visibly relax, you couldn't help but chuckle at the sight.

“Feeling better now?” You asked, a playful glint in your eyes.

Gojo nodded, a grateful smile spreading across his face. “Much better, thank you.”

The warmth of his smile melted away any lingering tension between you, and for a moment, you simply enjoyed the comfort of Gojo’s company.

As both of you continued eating, Gojo struggled to conceal his discomfort. Despite your initial concerns that dinner might be awkward because of what happened at the lake, it wasn't. You felt at ease with Gojo, and his occasional antics made you forget everything.

As you continued to share anecdotes and laughter, your ramen bowls emptied. And the night grew darker outside.

You watched as Gojo got up from his seat to pay. As you observed his back, you couldn't help but feel grateful for having accepted to come to this place with him. Gojo turned on his heels and flashed you a smile, a smile that made your cheeks turn crimson.

You didn't want to admit it, but perhaps Satoru Gojo was growing on you more than he should.

When Gojo returned to the table, you couldn't help the flutter of warmth his smile had ignited within you. Despite your best efforts to ignore him, you found yourself drawn to him in a way that both excited and unsettled you.

“Ready to go?” He asked, breaking the silence between both of you.

You nodded, getting up from your seat and following him out of the restaurant. The cool night air hit your face as you stepped outside, the soft breeze rustling the fabric of your clothes.

As you walked side by side, the comfortable silence between you said it all. It was a silence filled with unexpressed thoughts and emotions, a silent acknowledgment of the growing connection between you.

With every step, you couldn't help but look at Gojo, the presence of him at your side calming and strangely comforting. And when you got to the car, you couldn't deny the pang of disappointment that washed over you at the thought of saying goodbye.

“Gojo…” You muttered, getting a slight gaze from him. “About the other day…” How could you continue? “I know we are not close but I mean.” Shit. You were awful at these things. “You can talk to me I guess? We are classmates and all that.”

“You seemed awkward.”

“Shit. Is just that I’m awful with these things, okay? That’s why I didn’t know how to react the other day, when you, you…”

“It’s okay birdie. I get it.” You saw him smile. “Thank you for caring and I’m okay, so don’t worry.”

You nodded, still not sure if you should trust that okay he gave you, because it sounded like a lie and that it was hiding more behind.

At this point you couldn't deny that something was growing inside you. Satoru Gojo was making it difficult not to. His easy charm, genuine kindness, and unexpected moments of vulnerability had touched something deep within you, igniting a spark of longing you couldn't ignore.

Lost in your thoughts, you were jolted back to reality as the car came to a stop outside your house. Turning to face Gojo, you were met with his warm gaze, a silent understanding passing between you.

“Thanks for tonight, birdie.” He said softly, his voice tinged with sincerity. “For coming to the match and for then, coming with me to…”

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you returned his sentiment. “No, thank you. I had a really wonderful time having dinner with you. And don’t worry about what happened back in the lake, it was not your fault.”

As you stepped out of the car and onto the sidewalk, a sense of anticipation filled you. Despite the late hour and the weariness that threatened to weigh you down, you couldn't shake the excitement that bubbled within you.

Gojo stepped out of his car and walked you to the door, apparently wanting to make sure you arrived safely.

“I'll see you in class.” He whispered.

“Yeah.” You whispered back. “Goodbye, Satoru.” You smiled.

“Huh?” He looked at you in surprise. “Wait, did you just...?”

“Goodbye!” You hummed and closed the door before he could say anything else.

As you leaned against the front door, the familiar sound of Gojo's car engine ignited a flurry of emotions inside you. You couldn't help but feel a pang of longing mixed with a hint of anticipation. However, as the sound faded into the distance, a bittersweet smile appeared at the corners of your lips before you forcibly pushed those feelings away, reminding yourself of the need to remain grounded in the present moment.

As you walked through the quiet house, you found solace in the familiarity of your own room. Kyoko's absence, along with the echo of silence, allowed your thoughts to wander freely. Despite the calm outside, turmoil brewed beneath the surface as repressed memories of that night threatened to resurface.

Sinking into bed, you were once again faced with the weight of unresolved emotions. Your mind returned to a pivotal moment etched into your past. With trembling fingers, you reached for the photograph.

“Mom…”

With a whispered word, you invoked the memory of a figure frozen forever in time.

In the quiet solitude of your room, you wrestled with the complexities of your past, piecing together fragments of memories your mind had decided to forget.

As tears threatened to spill, you recalled the few vivid moments still etched in your memory alongside your mother. But many had long since faded away, her laughter, her voice, her scent, now even her expressions were difficult to conjure.

Resting your head on your knees, you closed your eyes, letting yourself drift back to the sweet melody she used to sing before bedtime. Each note resonated with a sense of comfort and longing, a bittersweet reminder of a love that transcended time and space.

Enveloped by the silence of the room, with only the melody resonating from your vocal cords, you began to feel the warm embrace of sleep. Despite your desire to stay awake for Kyoko, your body was simply too exhausted. Each note of the lullaby seemed to lull you deeper into a state of peaceful surrender, until finally, with a reluctant sigh, you succumbed to the soothing embrace of slumber.

As the sun streamed through your window, you blinked opening your eyes, realizing you had slept through the night without interruption. Your cheeks felt wet, and it wasn't surprising; you had dreamt of your mother, something that hadn't happened since you were a child. You wiped your face with the palm of your hand and stretched as you rose from the bed.

With Kyoko's parents away for the weekend, it would just be the two of you. You reached for your phone in your bag to check for any messages.

Kyoko☀️

I'm home now. I saw you were asleep, so I didn't disturb you. Come to my room as soon as you wake up tomorrow!!

That was a good sign, right?

And then there was another message.

Pain in the ass

The exam is approaching. How about we meet on Sunday to study? By the way, good night birdie.

Perhaps it was time to change the nickname, huh? You mentally chastised yourself for realizing you were smiling. You left your phone aside and headed to Kyoko's room with excitement. You flopped onto her bed, calling out her name eagerly.

“Come on!” You urged, nudging her gently. “You have to tell me what happened yesterday.” You smiled with anticipation.

Kyoko opened her eyes slightly and murmured your name. “What time is it?” She asked, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

“Almost noon.” You replied.

“Almost noon?” Kyoko sat up, surprised. “I've slept the whole morning away.” She sighed with resignation.

“After getting home at three in the morning, it's understandable.” You teased.

“Don't make fun of me or I won't tell you.” She warned with a smile.

“Come on…” You pleaded with a pout.

Kyoko returned your smile and sat up in bed. “We're officially dating.” She announced with joy. You let out a small yay and embraced your best friend.

“Was it romantic?” You asked curiously.

“Yes. He took me out to dinner first, and then we went to the teamLab, where he asked me.” She sighed nostalgically.

“At teamLab?” You asked, amazed. “You've been wanting to go there for ages, but the tickets were always sold out.” You recalled with surprise.

Kyoko shrugged. “I know, and I don't know how he did it, but we got in, and in one of the rooms, the crystal room, he asked me if I wanted to officially start dating.”

“That's amazing.” You exclaimed, feeling genuinely happy for Kyoko. “It sounds like he put a lot of thought into it.”

Kyoko nodded, a soft smile playing on her lips. “He really did. It was like a dream.”

“I'm so happy for you.” You said, giving her another hug. “You deserve all the happiness in the world.”

Kyoko returned the hug warmly, her eyes shining with gratitude. “Thank you for always being there for me.” She said softly.

“Of course.” You replied, feeling a surge of warmth in your chest. “That's what friends are for, right?”

As you both sat there, basking in the glow of Kyoko's newfound happiness, you couldn't help but feel grateful for moments like these—moments of joy, laughter, etc..

“By the way…” Kyoko looked at you with a smirk on her face. “How was your night?”

“My… my night?” You responded confused.

“Don’t play silly. You went with Satoru, tell me.” She pouted.

“We just went and had dinner.” You said. “Nothing else.”

“Really?” She said with a disappointed tone.

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “Why do you seem upset?”

Kyoko shook her head. “It's nothing, don't worry about it.”

You nodded reluctantly at her response, sensing that she was hiding something. “We'll see each other again tomorrow.” You said. “We're going to study, don't get confused.”

“Pfft.” She laughed. “Of course not.”

“The exam is next week, and I have to beat Sa-Gojo.” You corrected yourself before saying his name.

“Technically, you already had a date.” Kyoko pointed out.

“Last night wasn't a date, we were just two colleagues going out to dinner.”

“Whatever you say.” She smiled. “Anyways, you have to work today right?”

You bite your lip. “Ugh, yeah.”

“Do you want to meet up after your shift? We can meet Shoko and I can introduce you to her.” She smiled.

“That sounds good.” You replied.

“Perfect.” She got up from her bed and stretched. “Should we have breakfast?” You nodded in agreement.

Kyoko and you enjoyed a breakfast filled with laughter and conversation, but before you knew it, it was time for you to head to work. After bidding Kyoko farewell, you made your way to the store.

It was mid-afternoon when you suddenly remembered that you hadn't responded to Gojo's message. Retrieving your phone, you quickly finding the chat with Gojo.

You to Pain in the ass

Okay, we will meet again tomorrow.

At your place?

Within minutes, your phone lit up again, displaying a new message from Gojo.

Pain in the ass

Yep

I'll come pick you up, is 10 AM okay for you?

You read Gojo's message and felt a mixture of excitement and apprehension. Despite the playful nickname you had given him, there was an undeniable anticipation building within you for your upcoming meeting.

You to Pain in the ass

Sounds good, see you then 😌

With the message sent, you set your phone aside and resumed your tasks at the store. The remainder of the afternoon passed in a blur of customer interactions and inventory management, but Gojo's invitation lingered in the back of your mind, adding an extra spring to your step.

As evening approached and your shift came to an end, you found yourself eagerly looking forward to the following day.

You saw Kyoko waiting for you outside, engaged in lively conversation with another girl, whom you assumed was Shoko, Gojo and Suguru's friend. With excitement bubbling within you, you closed the store and made your way over to them.

As you approached, you couldn't help but smile at the sight of Kyoko and Shoko chatting animatedly. Their laughter filled the air, adding to the sense of camaraderie that surrounded them. Kyoko noticed you approaching and waved enthusiastically, gesturing for you to join them.

“Hey there!” Kyoko greeted you with a bright smile. “This is Shoko, the one I was telling you about.”

You exchanged introductions with Shoko, feeling a sense of warmth in her presence.

“Hi!” She smiled wildly. “I have heard a lot about you.”

You felt a twinge of embarrassment coursing through you. “Oh... really?” You attempted to laugh, trying to diffuse the awkward moment.

“Yeah, that idiot…” Shoko began to say before being cut off by Kyoko.

“Shall we?” Kyoko interrupted Shoko before she could continue speaking, her tone indicating a desire to move past that topic.

Confused, you looked at Shoko and then at Kyoko, wondering what had caused this sudden interruption.

“Let's go.” Kyoko said, taking your arm reassuringly. “I know you're starving.”

As you walked together, you couldn't shake off the feeling of curiosity about the conversation that was abruptly halted.

On the way to the restaurant, you learned that Shoko was studying medicine and was of the same age as you. In fact, she had been friends with Gojo and Suguru since they were about 14 or 15 years old.

“They tend to be quite intense.” Shoko joked. “And pretty dumb when they're together, but they're good people.” She added with a smile.

You nodded, returning the smile. The camaraderie between you was growing with each exchange.

“But let's stop talking about those two, tonight is girls' night.” Shoko suggested, changing the subject.

“Exactly.” Kyoko agreed with a smile.

Finally, you arrived at the restaurant and took a seat at a table.

Through the night you found out, Shoko liked to drink just as much as Kyoko. So now you were sitting in front of two drunk girls that wouldn’t stop laughing at every minimum thing. Don’t get it wrong, you also drunk and we’re having fun, just not as much as your best friend and your new friend.

“For real?” Kyoko laughed heavily, holding her belly. “I can’t believe it.”

“I swear.” Shoko said with a small hiccup. “Let’s ask for another round!”

You smiled and stopped her. “Shoko… you both are too drunk. For tonight it’s enough.”

“Oh crap… you just sounded like Satoru.” She looked first at you and then at Kyoko. “They would be cute…” She whispered but it was enough for you to hear. Shoko called out your name. “Do you like Satoru?”

You opened your eyes slightly, surprised by her question. “What…?” Only that question came out of your mouth but your mind was functioning like crazy, because as crazy as sound that question also came to your head in the last few days. “Shoko what are you talking about?” You tried to laugh. “No, no, I don’t…”

Kyoko laughed saying your name. “You’re completely red.”

“That’s true!” Shoko screamed pointing at you. “You do like him!”

“I don’t!” Your voice sounded nervous. “I just… I consider him a friend now!”

“But would you fuck him?” Shoko questioned you.

And your face turned completely red. “Shoko! What?!”

“C’mon!” Kyoko scream. “You would right?”

“You are both drunk!” You stood up from your place. “Let’s head home.”

“She definitely would.” Shoko laughed. “I heard he is quite…”

“Okay enough. Let’s go.” You cut her off before hearing what she was about to say.

“Ugh you are no fun.” Shoko and Kyoko cried out.

With great effort, you managed to get Shoko and Kyoko out of the bar where you had been spending the night. Hailing a taxi, you arranged for transportation back home. Shoko would be staying with you at your place; you didn't want to leave her to her own devices in that state, and besides, you didn't even know where she lived. True, you could have called Gojo and asked him, but after that conversation, the last thing you wanted was to have anything to do with Satoru Gojo. You decided to postpone facing the jumble of emotions inside you until the next day.

As the taxi pulled up to your destination, you helped Shoko and Kyoko out of the car and guided them inside your home. Once inside, you settled Shoko on the couch with a blanket and made sure she was comfortable to rest. Despite the late hour, your mind was buzzing with thoughts of the evening's events and the unresolved feelings surrounding Gojo.

After ensuring your friends were settled in for the night, you retreated to your own room, the weight of the night's emotions pressing down on you. Tomorrow would bring its own challenges, but for now, you needed to rest and gather your strength for the emotional turmoil that lay ahead.

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

You adjusted the rebellious strand of hair that kept falling out of place and took a deep breath. Why were you so nervous? You were just meeting up with Gojo to study, but still, your heart couldn't help but race at the thought.

Your phone buzzed in your bag, signaling that it was likely Gojo letting you know he was already outside waiting for you.

You bid farewell to Kyoko and her parents and stepped out of the house. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw Gojo leaning against his car, engrossed in his phone. When he heard the door close, he looked up, and your eyes met.

“Hey.” Gojo smiled.

You nodded. “Hi…”

Damn it, what was wrong with you?

“Birdie, you okay?” Gojo leaned in slightly to get a better look at your face.

“Huh?” You refocused your gaze on him. “Oh... yeah, yeah.” You smiled faintly. “Ready to go?” You motioned towards the car.

Gojo nodded and reopened the car door, and you climbed into the vehicle that was already starting to feel familiar. Gojo settled in beside you, and as he started the car, it dawned on you that you were headed to Gojo's apartment.

The conversation from last night echoed in your mind. You were beginning to develop feelings for Satoru Gojo. And that terrified you. You were afraid of what might happen if you let those feelings continue to grow.

“You seem quite distracted.” Gojo's gentle voice broke through your thoughts.

“It's nothing.” You tried to brush it off. “Just thinking about something.”

Gojo simply nodded and focused his gaze on the road ahead. The landscape began to change, arriving at a neighborhood of the city that you did not know. It was a rich neighborhood, the cars that were parked and the whole atmosphere screamed money. It didn't surprise you, where else could the great Satoru Gojo live after all.

Gojo parked his car in a garage and you both silently took the elevator. You watched as Gojo played with the car keys in his hand, while he looked ahead. Your heart continued to beat strongly.

As you entered Gojo's apartment, a feeling of surprise washed over you. It was not what you expected, it was a warm, cozy place. You took off your shoes at the entrance and followed Gojo into the kitchen.

“Do you want something to drink?”

“Water is fine.” You said. Gojo turned around and grabbed a glass to put some water on it. “Thank you…” You whispered when Gojo gave you the glass.

You tried avoiding his gaze but you knew he knew something was off with you. “Birdie…”

“Should we start with the study time?” You cut him. “Should we study in the living room?” You looked around. “Or there is somewhere else we could study.”

“In the living room it’s okay.” He said, still looking at you.

“Great! Let’s go!” You grabbed your bag and walked towards the living room.

Sitting on the big couch of Gojo’s department, you took out the notebook and waited patiently for Gojo to come and start studying.

You felt Gojo enter the room and sit next to you, too close for your liking. Too much. You could feel your hands starting to sweat and your heart racing again.

Do you like Gojo?

Do you have feelings for him?

The words repeated themselves in your head over and over again.

“Shit…” You murmured.

“Is everything alright birdie?” His soft voice spoke.

“Huh?” You turned your head only to be met with his blue eyes, way too close for your liking, for yourself.

Surprised, you moved backwards, causing you to fall off the couch. Gojo quickly stood up from her position and walked over to you to help you. “Birdie…” He said with concern. "Are you alright?" Gojo grabbed your hands and helped you sit on the couch.

You shook your head. “Yeah…” No. “I went out last night and I’m tired.” I can’t shake this feelings away. “It’s nothing.” It’s everything. “It’s okay…” It’s not.

“You should had told me…” He said with a sad look. “We could have chosen another day…” He whispered. “Nothing would have happened.” He smiled at you.

Satoru Gojo stop or I will completely fall and I don’t want to.

You shook your head. “Don’t worry.” You faintly smiled.

He hesitated but nodded at your words. You both sat next to each other and started studying. Gojo carefully explained the things that were still unclear to you. Each time he approached, your heart rate quickened.

Your feelings were completely tangled up. Satoru Gojo couldn't possibly be someone you liked, but no matter how many times your mind repeated that, your heart felt differently. It reacted tumultuously every time he was near.

As Gojo continued to clarify things for you, you found it increasingly difficult to focus on the conversation. His proximity seemed to amplify the turmoil within you, leaving you torn between what your head was telling you and what your heart was feeling.

Satoru Gojo POV

Gojo glanced at you from the corner of his eye, observing how completely engrossed you were in trying to solve the problem at hand. You delicately chewed on the end of your pen, your brow furrowing slightly in concentration.

She's beautiful.

Gojo shook his head and turned his gaze away from you.

Ever since he realized that you shared classes and even a major, he had tried on numerous occasions to get closer to you, but without any success.

When he invited you to the lake, he had attempted to confess, not in a romantic way. You see, Gojo did have strong feelings for you, a crush according to him. But he considered it too early to express them; he didn't want to risk pushing you away. What he had wanted to confess was his immense gratitude for what you did when you were six years old. However, just as he was about to do so, you had that panic attack.

He felt immensely guilty. Something had happened to you at that lake, and he had unwittingly triggered those memories. Seeing you so vulnerable and broken had shattered his heart. Holding you close had felt natural, and all he had wanted was for that pain you were experiencing to go away as soon as possible.

As Gojo watched you, he felt remorse for unintentionally causing your distress. He had tried to express his gratitude, but he had only made things worse, leaving you emotionally affected.

Despite his good intentions, Gojo felt guilty for contributing to your discomfort. He hadn't wanted to hurt you, he just wanted to comfort you. The image of seeing you so affected haunted him.

He silently decided to be there for you, support you with everything you needed and show you with actions how much you meant to him. Maybe he couldn't express his feelings at the time, but he was determined to show you his affection in other ways.

“Hey, birdie.” Gojo said softly, breaking the silence between them.

You looked up from your task, meeting his gaze with a curious expression. “Yeah, Gojo?”

“I just wanted to say... I'm sorry.” He began, his voice tinged with sincerity. “I know you already told me it was okay but I didn't mean to upset you back at the lake.”

You paused, studying his earnest expression for a moment before offering a small nod. “It's okay, Gojo. I know you didn't mean any wrong. And... thank you, for trying to help.”

Gojo smiled gratefully at your understanding, relieved to have cleared the air between them. “Of course, birdie. I just want you to know that I'm here for you, no matter what.”

Gojo saw you blinking slowly at his words and a small smile appearing on your lips. “Thanks, Gojo. That means a lot to me.”

Note: comment if you want to be tagged

Tagged people: @lavender-hvze, @crybabytoru, @sanriosatoru, @norvacaine, @sadmonke, @faetoraa,@hexipessimistic, @gojoful , @kitzusune , @sh0jun

[mr-leach]

Thinking about how Ulder Ravenguard was so dead set on hating his son for not being a perfect replica of himself that he refused to listen to a single thing he said. He will not even consider listening unless you, a complete fucking stranger, step in to advocate for him, and even then it's an uphill battle. No amount of love or respect Wyll has for his father is enough to grant him any sort of grace; choosing his own path was so much of a slight in Ulder's eyes that Wyll might as well not even be his own son. The only surefire way to get him to understand is to literally break into his mind and show him what happened, and once he finally sees reason what does he do?

He immediately decides on what Wyll should do with his future now that he's back in daddy's good graces. Even sends him to go and finish a quest he himself started to prove his worth. Sure, when Wyll "fails" he acts forgiving, but his attitude is still that Wyll is just a younger version on himself and should act accordingly. Well now that you've earned forgiveness, son, you can get back to business as usual, clearly... regardless of whether that's what Wyll wants for himself or not.

Like. I have a lot of thoughts about this. For one, I have to wonder if Wyll hadn't made a pact with Mizora, or had made a pact with a divine or neutral patron rather than a devil...how long would Wyll and Ulder have actually maintained a good relationship after that night? Like, Wyll has this habit of talking about his childhood and adolescence in that...barely-fond manner. You know, where the person telling stories feels like they're sharing a sweet or funny anecdote, but to everyone else it sounds... miserable. There were parts of his upbringing that he surely enjoyed, but it is deeply overshadowed by a cloud of resentment that Wyll himself barely recognizes. He loves his father, and truly respects and looks up to him, but it's evident from the stories he shares that Ulder treated him more like a student than a son. Wyll was his protege more than his progeny, it sounds like.

And the way it affects how Wyll talks about himself is heartbreaking. He puts himself down all the time, makes self deprecating jokes, or makes unhealthy predictions of what others might think of him. The only time he doesn't...is when he talks about the Blade of Frontiers. He loves the work that he does so much, he is so passionate about being right on the front lines protecting innocents and doing away with evil, and he even takes pride in his decision to make his pact with Mizora because it's that power that he uses to help people. Like gosh, even when fretting over how others might perceive his devilish form, he concludes that, if people see him as a monster, then they'll get to watch a monster fight evil and save people's lives. It sounds cheezy as fuck but oh my god. Like talk about feeling inadequate and unloved but choosing a path for yourself that you can be proud of in spite of all that.

And then, just thinking of that reuniting exchange in and of itself, and just. You can tell just how used to being shot down Wyll is, even though he really, truly wants his father to understand him. And it takes actually forcing Ravengard to witness what happened to make any progress. Many of us wish we could project exactly what we mean or feel or experience directly into the mind of someone we're trying to get through to. And still it's like he can't see past his own selfish perception of Wyll as an extension of himself. Wyll seems satisfied in the moment, but it's apparent that he's still been misunderstood despite being forgiven by his father. It sucks.

[fayes-fics]

Coitus Mahemium

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU

Summary: Crack fic. Sex can result in injury, but you keep going anyway...

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, inebriation, vaginal sex, minor injury with blood, substance high, crack content.

Word Count: 0.8k

Author's Note: This is an anon request fill (from HERE) I got during Kinktober but held onto as it's pure crack. I'm dedicating this to a lovely friend, @chaoticcalzoneranchsports, who enjoys a bit of silly crack content as much as I do. <3

“Oh god, this feels so good…” you shudder, dragging yourself up and down in his lap forcefully, climbing towards orgasm.

“Fuck, I know….” he moans in your ear, hands wrapped around your bum cheeks, encouraging your bouncing, the vein in his neck pulsing hard as he, too, skates close to coming.

You didn't even make it off his sofa tonight; you both just tugged off your trousers, perhaps a touch inelegantly in your tipsy state, deciding to ride him right here.

You look down to watch his cock disappear between your legs, and he growls when he realises what you are doing. Unfortunately, the noise he makes has you snapping your head up just as he leans in….  And your noggin smacks hard into his face.

Benedict cries out and collapses back into the sofa cushions, his hands flying up to his face as he hisses.

“Shiiitttt! I'm so sorry!  Are you alright?!?” you fret, stilling your movements, unsure what to do. 

What is the correct etiquette here? Is it impolite for one to climb off a cock mid-fuck? Or is it more impolite to keep going after such a faux pas?

“I'm fine, I'm fine,” he assures, muffled behind his hands cupped over his mouth and nose.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.. please don't stop,” he implores, surging his hips up to indicate he wants you to keep going, even as he doesn’t remove his hands.

You start to move slowly, holding his shoulders, your brow knitted in concern.

“Show me,” you request quietly when his face looks oddly contorted, slowing your moves to a stop.

“Please, please don't stop. I really want this. So much,” Benedict campaigns again, almost whiny.

“I want this too, but…” you reach forward and pull away his hands, shrieking slightly in surprise.

His lip is spilt, and his nose is bleeding, his hands are covered in blood.

“Fuck Benedict! We need to get that seen to! You might need stitches!” you fret and start to climb off.

“No!!” he gruffs, grabbing your hips. “I'm fine, just please, please. We can go to A&E… later,” he pulls you back down onto his cock, still impressively rock hard.

“Later?!” you echo in disbelief.

“Yes, look… fuck I want to come so bad, please…. just please…” he beseeches, pouting in a way that would look adorable, were it not the cause of another pulse of blood to appear.

“Benedict… I can't fuck a bleeding man…” you sigh, even as he attempts to do it himself, rocking his hips.

“Yes, you can!” he cries desperately, “just okay, look, wait….” He twists and reaches to the side table and grabs a box of tissues, quickly stuffing one up each nostril and jamming one between his lips. “There, all better…” he argues, muffled, even as they turn pink. 

“Ben…” he looks utterly ridiculous, and you can't help the tipsy giggle that bubbles up at the absurdity of the situation.

“Ha! See?! You can see the funny side,” he contends, waggling a finger at you even as he rocks into you. You just stare at him with fond exasperation. “Please, y/n, pretty pretty please. I can't go to A&E with an erection and a bloodied face. That will just cause all sorts of questions. I don't want to be a doctor's anecdote. Think about it; you are actually doing me a favour here…” he wheedles, pulling that puppy-dog expression.

He has a point.

You shake your head affectionately, then start to move. He crows triumphantly, and his hands grab your bottom, smearing traces of blood onto your shirt where it hangs low.

“You don't think they will have questions that I have bloody handprints over my bum?” you point out sardonically with a groan, his cock so good, you are already right back to pleasure.

“You have a great arse; they will just assume I grabbed it to deal with the anxiety of my injuries,” he ripostes with panted breath.

“My arse is not a stress toy, Bridgerton!” you dispute, gusting each word as you climb towards ecstasy.

“It's a bloody fantastic one,” he lobbies back cheekily, “quite literally tonight…” he adds drolly, raising a comedic eyebrow.

You can’t help another giggle even as you ride harder, both of you groaning loudly now as you slam onto his cock, both so eager to come.

—

Half an hour later, the triage nurse raises an eyebrow as she clocks the large bloody handprints on the shirt-tails hanging over your bum and the blissed-out look on Benedict’s face. In hindsight, perhaps giving him some leftover codeine you found in his bathroom cabinet before you ordered the taxi to come here was not such a good idea after all. 

He’s now high as a damn kite.

“I use her arse as a stress toy,” he offers sincerely by way of explanation to the nurse, then lolls his head and shoots you a goofy grin.

“Clearly…” she deadpans.

“She’s so lovely; she made sure I didn’t have an erection, too,” he continues, confessional on the mix of alcohol and painkillers.

You slump your head into your hands as he reaches out and pats your shoulder haphazardly.

Yeah… Great way to avoid being an anecdote, Bridgerton.

No taglist as this is goofy silliness.

[thehufflepuffavenger1]

The Grid Angel (3/?) M.V. x reader

Charles oh Charles

The vibrant lights of the city shimmered as Charles Leclerc and you stepped out onto the bustling streets. The post-race dinner had been filled with laughter and camaraderie, but tonight was different—it was just the two of you. The energy of the paddock had faded into the background, and the cityscape served as the backdrop for this unexpected chapter in the off-track drama.Charles, ever the gentleman, suggested a walk through the city. The neon signs reflected in his eyes as he spoke, "I thought a change of scenery might be nice. How about we explore a bit?"

As you strolled through the city streets, Charles continued to share stories, blending racing anecdotes with personal experiences. His easygoing nature and genuine charm made the evening feel effortless, and the initial awkwardness that often accompanies one-on-one encounters melted away.

As you reached a quaint café tucked away in a quiet corner, Charles suggested, "How about we grab a drink and just enjoy the night?"

The cafe's warm glow created a cozy ambiance, and the two of you settled into a corner booth. The conversation flowed seamlessly, covering a myriad of topics. It was evident that Charles was genuinely interested in getting to know you beyond the confines of the paddock.

As the night wore on, Charles, with a thoughtful expression, broached a topic that had lingered in the air like an unspoken secret. "You know, Y/N, I've enjoyed our time together. But I can't help but feel there's something on your mind."

You hesitated for a moment before admitting, "It's been a bit complicated lately, with all the attention and dynamics in the paddock. I didn't expect my off-track life to be this... eventful."

Charles nodded, understanding the complexities of life in the fast lane. "I get it. Racing is intense, and so are the relationships that come with it. But I want you to know that I genuinely enjoy your company, no matter where this leads."

The honesty in his words resonated, and you appreciated his sincerity. The evening continued with laughter, genuine conversation, and a shared understanding that sometimes friendships could be more valuable than romantic entanglements.

Later, back at the paddock, Max Verstappen was growing increasingly agitated. The post-race dinner gatherings, the friendly camaraderie—it was all getting under his skin. He couldn't shake the feeling that Charles Leclerc was becoming a formidable rival not just on the track but in his personal life as well.

As Max stewed in his frustration, he caught wind of your evening with Charles. The whispers and speculations in the paddock only fueled his annoyance, and by the time the next race weekend arrived, Max was on edge.Confrontation became inevitable when Max cornered Charles in the garage after a practice session. The air crackled with tension as Max unleashed his pent-up frustration. "What's your game, Leclerc? You think you can just waltz in and take everything, don't you?"

Charles, taken aback by the sudden outburst, tried to diffuse the situation. "Max, I don't know what you're talking about. We're just friends."

But Max, blinded by jealousy and the fear of losing something he didn't even fully understand, wasn't ready to back down. "Don't play dumb with me. I know you like Y/N. You've been trying to steal their attention, and I won't stand for it."

Charles, maintaining his composure, replied, "Max, I asked Y/N out because we enjoy each other's company. It's not a competition. If you have feelings for them, you should talk to Y/N about it."

Max's frustration reached its peak, and he shot back, "I don't need your advice, Leclerc. Stay away from Y/N. I won't let you ruin what we have."

With that, Max stormed off, leaving Charles standing in the garage, a mixture of confusion and frustration etched on his face. The pit crew as always, witnessing the heated exchange, exchanged worried glances, realizing that the off-track drama had escalated to a new level.

In the midst of the chaos, you, unaware of the confrontation, continued to navigate the complexities of life in the paddock. The Grand Prix season had become a tapestry of emotions, weaving together friendships, rivalries, and unexpected connections that transcended the confines of the race circuit.

As the next race loomed on the horizon, the paddock held its collective breath, unsure of how the off-track saga would unfold. The off-track drama, fueled by emotions and the unspoken tensions, had become as unpredictable as the races themselves, and the journey through the season promised to be a rollercoaster ride of highs and lows.

Taglist:

@itsjustkhaos

[dragon-ascent]

Ball-dancing with Morax

dragon emperor morax, a ball, and you.

The royal ball is a time when nobility and commoners come together at the palace in honour of the kind emperor’s birth month. Emperor Morax is a just and fair ruler, beloved by all. Well, all except you.

You are a prophesied Hero sent by a holy oracle to kill Morax for his genocide of the people of Khaenri’ah some centuries ago. The incident had been erased from the memories of all other land-dwellers, giving him the appearance of having a clean slate. It’s your destiny to bring about justice for his actions.

Your plan is to dance with Morax, who often enjoys dancing with his subjects, slip a magical poison into his drink, and let it destroy him. The poison takes three days to act and blends seamlessly into the bloodstream once it has done its duty, so nobody will ever be able to trace it back to this day. 

The day of the ball, you are dressed in your finest gown, your face and hair done to perfection as well. There is no need for a concealed weapon in case things go awry, as Morax operates under a strict moral code of never harming the people under his reign. Oh, how that will come back to bite him soon enough. 

He looks ravishing tonight, his golden horns decorated with small rivulets of silk and glass beads. His tail is out on full display, the fine gold fur shining with every movement. His toned body is draped in a rich brown silk long pao, his own dragon emblem adorning the fine cloth. His deep amber eyes, accentuated by the red on his lower eyelids, are mellowed into a beaming smile as the festivities begin.

He is the kind of man you would fall in love with; he is the kind of man you would plunge a dagger into. 

Emperor Morax dances with some of the men and women brave enough to share the spotlight with him, until finally his intense gaze settles on you invitingly. You step up to the offer with ease, taking his hands - calloused and big - and following his lead.

It’s magical, the way he guides you along the ballroom with all the grace of a Qilin. It feels like gliding, and for a second you wonder what it would be like to soar through the skies with Morax in his pure dragon form. 

His touches are gentle, his words equally soft as he regales you with amusing anecdotes from days of yore, soft laughter ringing like temple bells every time you nearly fumble a step. 

Soon enough, he suggests going to the balcony from some fresh night air and a drink, and you readily oblige. His hand rests on the small of your back, like that of a lover, and you cannot help but melt ever so slightly at the gesture. Your heart refreezes itself once more as you remind yourself what this dragon had done once upon a forgotten time.

Still, as he pulls you to himself while he tells you how beautiful you look tonight, you decide to indulge.

His kisses are just as tender and gentle as his hands, and they linger on your skin like eventide dewdrops. When your lips connect, it feels like the earth itself has given way and you are free-falling, with Morax being the one to break the fall. Minutes pass before he deems it fit to pull away. 

The way he slides his hands along the curve of your waist and settles there; it is almost as though you are someone completely familiar to him. His smile is like stars bursting forth through shadow. You cannot get enough, it’s intoxicating.

His beautiful brown and gold tail flexes and coils around you tenderly, the scales shimmering like quartz. So enamored by his tail are you, that you hardly register the sinister golden gleam that flashes across his irises for a split second.

He leans in close to your ear and whispers, “My dear, you are the seventh incarnation of the Hero I have had to deal with.”

(just a concept, might turn this into a full-fledged fic if people are interested.)

[kairiscorner]

i forgot it was my man's birthday 5 days ago, so to celebrate (even if it's super late) enjoy this fluffy fic where you and younger nanami adopt a cat :>

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

(art is not mine, ctto!)

younger nanami x reader

you and nanami weren't exactly the closest, if anything, you were friends with nearly... everyone. everyone except kento nanami; the enigmatic tall blonde guy who you suspected was listening to my chemical romance or fall out boy in his room when he wasn't going out on missions or practicing.

in a way, you were drawn to nanami. he seemed so unreachable at times, so hard to catch after classes, much less starting up a conversation with him. you were, fortunately, friends with haibara–one of the only people nanami seemingly tolerated and was partnered up with more often.

"oh, nanamin?" haibara looked at you with his signature, sweet smile. he chuckled a little to himself as he looked at you. "nanamin is... he's really nice! i promise. he seems scary at first, yeah, it takes... a lot of budging to get his attention, but when you get to know him, he's super caring! he pulled me away from a curse that was going to hit me from above one time, and he bought me stomach medicine when i was having a bad case of... just tummy issues." he narrated with a bashful smile as he reminisced the moments he and nanami shared.

you smiled back at haibara, his stories and anecdotes made you really want to get to know nanami, too.

a few moments later, you and haibara secretly followed nanami down to the school grounds. nanami's habit throughout the day would be to find a nice tree with just the right amount of shade and light; preferably at a 7:3 ratio of shade to light. he loved snacking or reading, or doing both, there.

"there's your chance! now... just, y'know, go over to him!" haibara whispered to you enthusiastically, his smile unwavering. you looked at him with widened eyes. "i–i can't just do that!" you blurt out, exasperatedly.

haibara tilted his head to the side in a perplexed manner. "why not? it's just nanamin."

"nanami's... very observant, isn't he? he and i never talked before, much less hang out–he might think i stalk him!" i exclaim in a hushed, panicky tone.

haibara laughed at your panicked state, but he meant no offense by it. he put a hand on your shoulder and smiles at you. "you'll be okay. nanami doesn't think bad of everyone the first time he meets someone, this is good for both of you! now, get going, he might cut his routine a little earlier today since it's his–" he cut himself off before he could continue, playfully shoving you to him.

you're suddenly out in the open, away from the blind spots where nanami couldn't see you. you took in a deep breath and approached nanami, a nervous wreck all the while.

"hi... nanami!" you exclaimed, trying not to come off too strong. he looked up at you and nodded. "hello." he greeted you back curtly as he went back to eating his sandwich.

"um, nice spot you got here. feels really... really balanced." you mumbled. he nodded without even looking at you. you winced at the awkwardness enveloping you two. "well, uh... can i sit with you?" you asked, moving down to the spot next to him. he shrugged. "it's all yours." he said as he scooched over for you to sit down.

a few minutes of silence passed, and the two of you were sitting in complete awkwardness. "so, uh, nanami... you really like that sandwich, hmm?" you ask, awkwardly and a little forced. you hated small talk, but what could you do? it was better than sitting in silence.

nanami nodded and took another bite from his sandwich, the silence and awkwardness caving the two of you in. not long after, the silence was broken by the purr of a cat. it came from above, and soon, you were facing the underside of an orange tabby cat.

nanami looked up as you stood up to lool at the cat. your eyes were glued to the furry little fella, your lips curving into a wide smile, laughing a little in awe at how adorable it was.

"nanamin, lookie!" you said as you nudged his shoulder and pointed at the cat. he stood up from his spot, kind of pursing his lips at you calling him 'namamin', but he was a little... tolerant of your child-like curiosity and joy at the sight of a chubby tabby cat.

"it's... a cat." he pointed out monotonously as he looked at it. you smiled at him. "isn't he just the cutest?" you crooned as you got on the tips of your toes, reaching as high as you could to try and get the kitty.

nanami watched your futile efforts to try and reach for the cat went in vain as you just weren't tall enough to reach it. "ah, man..." you murmured as you looked off to the side, disappointed you couldn't get the cat.

"let the cat laze about, i'm sure it didn't want to be bothered anyway." he said as he looked at you. "but how could i not want it? he looks so cute!" you gushed. nanami sighed. "i mean... it does look pretty cute." he said in agreement. "see? you do get it, nanamin." you said as he cringed at the nickname again.

"wait, you're tall enough! pleeeeease, nanami? for me?" you clasped your hands together and gave nanami the sweetest doe eyes you could muster. he looked at you from the corner of his eyes, he hated to admit it, but your persuasion was too effective.

"fine." he muttered as he furrowed his eyebrows at his obedience to you. you smiled and thanked him, and nanami was on his way to reach the chubby tabby cat from its perch on the tree branch.

the cat angled its head up to look at nanami in the face. "oh, hello." he said as the cat stared directly at him. "sorry about this." he muttered an apology to the cat as he gently took him in his arms, surprisingly, the cat didn't resist and eased into nanami's hands.

nanami brought the cat back down without a hitch. "she was surprisingly calm." he commented as you took the cat in your arms, rubbing its stomach. it purred at you and sort of smiled, which made you smile at him. "she was?" you asked with a smile at nanami.

he found your smile very... alluring, very adorable. it made his thoughts kind of stop altogether as he takes in the warmth and beauty of your smile, there was nothing quite like it.

nanami cleared his throat. "yeah, she was." he said with a small tint of pink on his cheeks. "wait... she?" you asked as you looked at the cat, you looked at you and tried to lick at your cheek.

"it's a female." he said as he approached you an the cat. "oh... well, she's real cute." you said with a laugh. that laugh of yours really entranced nanami, too. he loved how symphonic it sounded, how it was so gentle, so sweet–so sincere. you were one of the most cheerful people he ever met, taking beauty in the simplest of things.

"what should we name her?" you asked. nanami shrugged. "oh!" you exclaimed as you looked up at nanami. "what about nana?" you asked as you held the cat close to him. he furrowed his eyebrows. "nana?" he repeated, and you nodded.

"short for nanami! and because she has seven stripes on her, look! and it's july right now, isn't it? dang, the name really does suit her!" you exclaimed.

"nana..." he repeated for the second time. you handed the cat to nanami and giggled. "she loves you, look at how wide she smiles when you hold her!" you beamed.

nanami found himself smiling, though it was a small smile at the cat as it purred into his touch. "i guess she does. good girl, nana." he said as he rubbed her head. he looked at you, who was smiling up at him as he took care of nana.

"what?" he asked, his smile waning. you chuckled. "nothing, nothing." you shook your head as you looked off into the distance. "i'm just... really glad to know you, and this whole side of you, nanami. finally, i got to know you. i'm... really happy about that." you admitted to him.

nanami didn't know what to feel anymore, he just met you, you approached him at first, and you... you made him dare some things he'd hardly do on his own. he couldn't imagine himself bothering anyone or anything else, until you came along, being all bold, bright, and confident–you were everything he wanted to be. you were... amazing to him, no words cod express his gratitude for you coming into his life that day, not that he consciously knew how much you impacted him after that.

"...i'm really happy i got to know you, too." he said as he looked at you, and you two locked eyes. this was the best birthday nanami had ever experienced, and it was with a stranger who really wanted to befriend him, a stranger who kept him company when he didn't realize he needed it the most–a stranger who made him dare to go beyond his comfort zone.

he liked you, a lot; and he hoped you'd never change. he wanted to keep seeing you, to keep you in his life as long as he could. from that day forth, he looked forward to meeting you by that spot in the school grounds, under the shade of that tree, with nana in your arms.

that would have been a peaceful life, he wanted a peaceful life... with you in it.

[crackedoutwalnut]

Creature Comforts (Wandanat x Reader)

Summary: Natasha and Wanda start to notice their girlfriends' cat-like attributes.

A/n: This is probably one of the cutest things I've ever written in my opinion. I wrote this bc the fireworks prevented me from going to bed. So, if it has more mistakes than usual I am sorry, I was tired and a bit pissed off at my neighbors lol. Enjoy! :)

Word Count: 1.5k

--

You cracked your eyes open as the hazy afternoon sun filtered through the window in sheets. You watched sleepily from your place on the bed as dust moats danced in the light. A sharp yawn fell from your lips as you sat up and stretched out your entire body. Your usual midday nap had left you feeling groggy and out of sorts. Not one of your best sleeps by far. For one, where were your girlfriends? You had been away from them for - you glanced over at the clock on your bedside table- an hour and a half. That just wouldn't do. You slowly got to your feet and made your way out of your shared bedroom and into the hallway. You heard your girlfriends chattering in the living room.

"Clint said Kate was coming along well as his new partner. They work well together in the field," Natasha explained. She lounged in the leather recliner adjacent to the couch; her copper hair was braided, and she wore a pair of sweatpants and a tank top. 

Wanda, who was sitting on said couch, her legs propped against the coffee table. You eyed the open spot next to her. It looked like the perfect place to get in a second nap. 

"Are you sure she isn't too young?" Wanda replied brows furrowed slightly.

Natasha scoffed, "Oh please, these days, they might as well hire kindergarteners to be Avengers. I mean, Parker was 14 when he first went on a mission." 

"I suppose so... but-" Wanda paused and looked over to where you were shuffling into the room. She smiled, "Y/n, how was your nap?"

You shuffled over to the couch and collapsed onto the cushion next to her. With your legs hanging over the couch's armrest, you buried your face in her lap and grumbled, "Incomplete." 

You heard your girlfriends chuckle as Wanda's hand rested atop your head. Choosing to ignore the sound, you let out a long satisfied huff into the material of your partner's flannel pajama pants. They smelled of vanilla and lavender detergent. The scent was cozy and familiar, just the thing missing from your afternoon nap.

"Incomplete? Honey, it was nearly two hours long," Wanda pointed out, her voice dripping with endearment. 

"I swear, when we agreed to live with each other, I never agreed on getting a cat along with an apartment," Natasha teased.

You grumbled and blindly flipped her the bird. At the sound of more laughter, you shifted so that your back was to Natasha, and your face was hidden in Wanda's shirt. "M not a cat," you muttered, "It's just comfier here."

"I'm flattered that you find me comfier than our mattress." You felt the witch's nails scratch along your scalp, trailing down to the nape of your neck. You hummed in agreement. As the patterns traced along your head slowed, so did your mind. You vaguely registered your partners' voices overhead as they talked in hushed voices. 

"What did he say in response?" Wanda murmured.

You heard Natasha shift in her chair before the sound of footsteps crept closer. Before you knew it, your legs were gently lifted up and into the assassin's lap. 

"He said that he would rather be impaled by an iron spike. The fact that he got killed with a nail gun was just karma, in my opinion," Nat said, her raspy voice whisper-soft despite the disturbing anecdote. It still warmed your heart all the same. 

Wanda's hands slowed to a stop, causing you to let out a groggy rumble of protest. A soft kiss was pressed right above your ear as the massage started again, "Sorry, detka," she amended, "I really think you have too much fun on missions, Natty." 

"Oh please, I only had fun on that one because he had it coming. You don't run a trafficking ring and expect to die peacefully in your sleep."

"Good point." 

You tuned out the rest of the conversation, no longer caring about anything other than the solid warmth of your lovers. 

--

A few weeks later, you were having a movie night with Natasha. Wanda was away on a mission, which left you and the assassin home alone. Although there was a perfectly comfortable couch for you to lay on, you chose to lay on the recliner. While Natasha was still in it. The woman's protests were empty and half-hearted at best as you settled onto her lap. The back of your head rested against Nat's shoulder while your body rested between her legs. 

The two of you traded the occasional kiss as the soothing sound of explosions resonated from Top Gun on screen. It was nice, some might say perfect. Then that monster had to go and ruin it completely. Your hands were resting atop Natasha's as hers wrapped around your waist. She was holding you as close to her as she could get. 

You let out a content sigh and lifted her hand to rest a kiss against the back of it. She kissed the side of your head in response. Then, the moment shattered. Your girlfriend lifted her hands off your waist and laid them on the armrests. She shifted slightly in her seat so that her front was no longer completely pressed against you. You were ripped from your comfort completely. The moment was ruined, and you were no longer comfortable. You hopped to your feet with an annoyed groan and threw yourself onto the couch. On the cold empty couch, life really was cruel. 

Natasha glanced over at you, confusion evident on her face. "Darling, are you alright?"

You frowned, "You moved." 

She furrowed her brows and gave you a baffled look, "What?"

"I was super comfortable with your arms around me and your body resting against mine, and you moved," you complained. 

Natasha's befuddled expression slowly grew into a smirk, "You dragged yourself off my lap and half-collapsed onto the couch because I slightly shifted my body?" You huffed but did not respond. "You are such a cat, holy shit," she grinned, her eyes glistening with amusement.

"Shut up, I was comfortable, and you ruined it with your squirming. Also, I am not a cat," your face was stained with a deep rouge from the tips of your ears to the base of your neck. You might have overreacted a tad; however, that didn't mean you had feline attributes. You just liked being comfy. 

"I don't know, kitty," Nat purred with a satisfied grin, "there is a lot of evidence that suggests otherwise." 

You groaned and buried your face in a throw pillow, "Don't call me that."

Natasha stood and made her way over to you. She scooped you up into her arms and shifted so that she was sitting on the couch and you were on her lap. Again. "Aww, I'm sorry. Would you prefer kitten?" She kissed your cheek, "Or maybe, kotenok?"  Her voice was saccharine and smug as you thrashed half-heartedly in her arms. 

"This sucks." 

"Then get up and leave, kitten." 

You did no such thing. 

--

The nail in the coffin came on a Sunday afternoon. The sun shone through the windows, casting warm squares of light onto the living room carpet. You had taken note of the warmth those patches had compared to the rest of the room and decided to move. With a firm shove, you pushed the coffee table out of the way and rested your body in the wide sunspot. With your eyes half shut, you soaked it in and watched TV. You found yourself unable to move as your limbs became leaden. You could have sworn your carpet was never this comfortable before today. 

Regardless you slipped into a light snooze... Until Natasha and Wanda returned from the grocery store and ruined the blissful atmosphere completely. 

"Y/n, we're back! We sushi for lunch if you want to come and get it," Wanda hollered from the kitchen. There was a rustle of bags as the women set about putting the goods away. 

"I'll be there in a minute," you replied. 

"You better hurry; I don't think Nat's gonna wait for you to have your share." 

"Can you bring it to me?" 

"You are five steps from the kitchen," Wanda replied in exasperation. 

"And you're five steps from the living room," You countered. 

"You're impossible." A smile spread across your face as you heard two sets of footsteps make their way into the living room. 

"Y/n, why are you lying on the floor, barely a foot from our couch and lounge chair?" Wanda asked. 

Natasha clucked her tongue, "It's because, Wands, our lover is more cat than human. Isn't that right, kotenok?"

You cracked your eyes open and glared up at the assassin, "The sun felt the best right here," you replied as if that would clear everything up.

Wanda nodded slowly, "Right... because the sun's position is how you decide where you are gonna lay?" 

"Yup."

"But... the recliner is also in the sun."

"It's not the same."

"Of course." 

Natasha snickered and tapped your side with her foot, "Well, if you want to sit up and join us, we got sushi. I know how much cats love fish." 

You hoisted yourself up to lean against your elbows, "Fuck off, Nat."

"Aww, I love you too, babe," Natasha leaned over to fake-whisper in Wanda's ear, "That's how cats show affection." The witch giggled as you grabbed the sushi and turned to face away from them. You ate like that for the remainder of lunch. 

[stargazer-sims]

The Art of Redemption

(part 13)

previous // next // story index

—————

By the time Saturday rolls around, Nikolai has almost entirely forgotten his disappointment at not being able to enjoy Thursday's unexpected snowfall by playing outside with Stan, Beth-Anne and Stan and Milena's two young grandsons. He acknowledges that Beth-Anne and Stan's reasons for discouraging him from going out made sense. Another inadvertent fall wouldn't do his injured leg any good, and he definitely doesn’t want any more setbacks. But, just because he understands the rationale now, that didn't mean he had to like it at the time.

He can't say he was sad or bored indoors with Milena. They listened to music and she taught him how to bake chocolate chip cookies, and they laughed a lot at each other’s work-related anecdotes. Although he would have preferred helping to build a snow fort and then engaging in the inevitable snowball fight afterwards, lack of snowballs notwithstanding, it had been a fun day.

He and Milena had hot cocoa and their freshly-baked cookies waiting when everyone else came inside, and it was hard to determine if it was Stan or his seven and nine year old grandsons, Lukas and Marek, who were more excited about the snack. After snack time, Nikolai played video games with the boys while Milena got some housekeeping done and Stan and Beth-Anne went back outside to help the Kovacs' elderly next-door neighbour clear snow from his driveway.

While Lukas, the seven year old, was taking his turn with the game controller, nine year old Marek chattered enthusiastically to Nikolai about skating, about his Saturday group class, and how his grandpa thought he could start competing next year if he wanted to.

"I don't know if I'd win any medals or not," Marek said. "But even if I don't, that's okay. I like skating a lot, and Grandpa says having fun is what counts. But, I think he thinks I'm a good skater anyway."

“Well, your grandpa should know,” Nikolai told him. “He’s seen a lot of skaters in his lifetime, and back in the day, he was fantastic too. Is he going to coach you?”

“Maybe,” Marek said. “Or maybe Auntie Beth-Anne, ‘cause I’m in her group class now. You have to be at least nine to be in that class, and I had my birthday in November, so I moved from another class to that one."

“I’m coming to your group class this Saturday, so I’ll see you there.”

That elicited a giggle from Marek. “You’re too big for a kids' group class!”

“No, I’m not coming to skate. I’m coming to watch. Some day, I’m going to be a coach like your grandpa and Beth-Anne, but I have to learn how to do it first, and Beth-Anne is going to teach me.”  

“Is that like… coach coaching?”

Nikolai laughed. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

“Cool.” Marek beamed. “You should watch me, ‘cause I can do three different double jumps. Oh, and there’s this one kid, Eden. He can do a triple toe loop, but don’t tell anybody, ‘cause Auntie Beth-Anne already said he’s not allowed to do triples yet.”

Nikolai put a finger to his lips and made a zipping gesture. “The secret’s safe. Don’t worry.”

He’d been aware on some level that Stan’s grandson and the much-mentioned kid named Eden were both in one of Beth-Anne’s Saturday group classes, but until recently, he’d been far too focused on his own career and the events of his own life to give much thought to what might be happening at the rink when he wasn’t there. Saturdays used to be his day off, when he didn’t go to the dance studio or the gym, and when he skated only if he wanted to. Prior to his injury, he’d had very little contact with children’s group classes. He'd had no reason to.

But, all that has changed.  It’s Saturday, and he’s essentially going to work. Or, more accurately, to volunteer. He rephrases the thought because although it’s technically on-the-job training, he’s not getting paid. 

He’ll have to start looking for a real job soon. His savings won’t last indefinitely, and the mortgage on his and Anya’s house and their household bills won’t pay themselves. He doubts Anya would be thrilled about taking on the full responsibility for it. She couldn’t afford to manage it on her own anyway and would probably need help from her parents. Nikolai does not, under any circumstances, want that to happen. He’d rather sell the property than to be indebted to Anya’s father in any way. Mr. Baranov dislikes him intensely, a fact that he barely succeeds in hiding, and Nikolai isn’t shy to admit the feeling is mutual. 

It hadn’t always been like that, of course. His family and Anya’s have known each other since he and Anya were teenagers, ever since Nikolai’s family had moved here from another province and Nikolai met Anya at the rink. They’d all gotten along well, and Nikolai even recalls Anya’s father happily giving his blessing for their marriage. It’s only been during the past three years, since Nikolai and Anya have been married, that things have gone drastically downhill.

God alone knows what Anya might’ve been telling her father about me all this time. It’s enough to push him toward panic, and he has to remind himself this isn’t the moment. He needs to be clear-headed. Later. You’ll have time to think about all that stuff later.

Beth-Anne had woken him up at six o’clock and told him to hustle, as they needed to be at the rink by a quarter to eight.  When he asked her why they needed to be there so early if her first class didn’t start until 8:30, she explained there’s one kid who’s been coming to the rink with his older cousin lately, and the cousin is apparently fixated on arriving early for everything. He could be there as early as eight o’clock, she said, and she didn’t want a ten year old out on the ice by himself with only the non-skating teenage cousin to supervise him. 

As it happened, Beth-Anne had given him ample time to get ready. He ended up sitting on the bench by the front door for twenty minutes waiting for her, and he wanted to laugh when she came flying down the stairs with a breathless, “Okay, this is the best I can do with this fucking makeup. Let’s go.” 

They made it to the arena only five minutes later than Beth-Anne’s 7:45 target, which they mutually agreed was due entirely to being held up by some sort of emergency road work they’d had to detour around and had nothing at all to do with stopping at Tim Horton’s to fill their insulated travel mugs with fresh coffee. Beth-Anne was pleased, right up until two seconds ago, when they’d rounded the corner into the glass-walled corridor leading to her assigned practice rink and they spotted a kid already on the ice. 

The child is small, with wisps of straight black hair peeking out from beneath his rainbow-striped toque. When he turns, Nikolai sees a delicate face that reminds him of a porcelain doll more than of a real person. He immediately feels weird for having this thought, but he can’t help remarking to himself that he’s never seen such a beautiful child before.

Then, something else occurs to him that quickly chases the stray thought away.  He wonders if there’s been a mix-up with ice times. There’s no way this boy should be in a group class for nine to eleven year olds. He doesn’t look like he could be more than six or seven. 

Nikolai blinks and looks more closely at the way the little boy is moving. The child is dancing around an orange safety cone, and his footwork is far too complex for any six year old to have perfected to that degree. 

It takes only a moment for him to connect the dots. This must be Eden Seong, the student Beth-Anne often talks about with such adoration and pride. Korean-Canadian, tiny, feisty, and overflowing with talent… Suddenly, it makes sense why everyone refers to him as ‘little Eden’ and why he gets so much praise.

“Dammit!” Beth-Anne mutters. “I’m going to have a word with that cousin.”

Nikolai looks up toward the benches and notices another boy, this one probably around sixteen or seventeen, with the same delicate features as the younger one. He's bundled in a huge parka and cradling a takeaway cup between his mittened hands, and he looks unhappy. He appears to be shouting something at the smaller boy, but from behind the wall, it’s hard to tell. 

Nikolai’s attention is off the child for no more than three seconds, but in that sliver of time, Beth-Anne lets out an exclamation of “Shit!” and almost simultaneously sets their two metal travel mugs and her skate bag on the floor. Beth-Anne is already pushing her way through the door to the rink area when Nikolai sees that the little boy is now sitting on his bum on the ice, legs splayed out in front of him. 

Nikolai hurries to catch up with Beth-Anne, cursing under his breath because at this point his crutches are slowing him down rather than helping him. He abandons them by the door and limps as fast as he can to the gate that leads to the ice surface.

Beth-Anne is already practically running across the ice. "Eden, are you okay? What happened?"

The little boy — Eden — scrambles to his feet and skates directly into Beth-Anne’s waiting arms. Almost immediately, he begins to sob for all he’s worth. He wails, "Everything is awful!"

Nikolai frowns. Not that most of the figure skaters he’s acquainted with, including himself, are known for being particularly mellow, but this level of dramatic behaviour seems like an overreaction to a simple fall. He glances up at the teenager in the stands again. The older boy is scowling with his entire face, his features pinched with anger or embarrassment, or both. 

He realizes something must’ve happened before he and Beth-Anne arrived, and what he’s seeing now is Eden’s breaking point.

"I wouldn't go that far," Beth-Anne is saying to her little student. "Everything can't be awful. There's got to be something that isn't."

"No... everything,” Eden says.

"Are you sure?" she asks. “What about grilled cheese? And ballet?"

Eden pauses, considering her words. He sniffles loudly and concedes, "No."

"There. You’re not awful either, and I’m reasonbly sure I’m not. So, everything's not awful. Just certain things."

"Yeah, I guess,” he says. 

"Can you tell me why you're crying?" she inquires. “Did you hurt yourself?”

“No,” he tells her. “It’s just… I hardly ever fall down. I lost my balance, and it was stupid ‘cause I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Everyone falls down sometimes. It’s okay. As long as you’re not hurt, that’s what’s important.”

Eden shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it does,” Beth-Anne says.

“No, it doesn’t. Even if I hurt myself really bad and I could never skate again, it wouldn’t make any difference. Maybe it’d even be better that way, ‘cause then I’d have an actual reason to stop.” More tears spill down his pale cheeks, and he wipes at them aggressively. "It wouldn’t just be because my parents don’t want me to skate any more. They said I have to stop after this month, and it’s not fair.”

“I know,” Beth-Anne says gently. “I’ve talked to your parents, and I've been thinking a lot about that.”

"Really? Can you fix it? Can you talk to them again and make them change their minds?”

“No one can make anybody change their mind, you know. Every person is in charge of their own actions and their own feelings. I can try to convince them, but at the end of the day, what happens will be up to them."

“But, what about my feelings?” Eden protests. “I love skating. I don’t ever want to stop, but all my parents care about is liabilities, whatever that is. They don’t care how I feel.”

“I think they do,” Beth-Anne assures him. “But, they’re worried about you. They don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Then, I should never do anything ever again. I should never ride my bike or run on the stairs or walk on the sidewalk in my bare feet or play tag with Charlie and Sadie. I accidentally got hurt doing all that stuff.”

“Have you tried telling that to your parents?”

“No, but it wouldn’t do any good if I did.”

“You might be surprised,” Beth-Anne tells him.

“We shouldn’t even have to talk about it,” Eden says. He pulls back from his coach and looks her straight in the face. “I’m good at skating. Like, really good, and it’s my favourite thing in the whole world, and everybody knows that. Why would anybody want to take away somebody’s favourite thing that they’re really good at? That’s just… not right.”

"Hmm..." Beth-Anne lets go of him and straightens up. "You know what I think?”

“What?”

“That’s a very grown up way to express yourself. I think, instead of acting like you did last time when your mother came to get you, you should explain it to your parents the way you just did to me.”

"I was so mad," Eden says. "I couldn't help it."

"Really? Some invisible force of nature just pulled you to the ice and made you scream like a toddler?"

"No, but—"

"Remember what I just said? Each person is in charge of their own feelings and actions. That means we get to choose how we respond to things, and sometimes the choices we make help us get our point across a lot better."

"What do you mean?"

"If you were having an argument with one of your friends, would you listen to him more if he yelled and threw a tantrum, or if he just calmly explained his side of it?"

"Calm," Eden says. "I don't like it when people yell."

"Most people don't like that," Beth-Anne says. "I'll bet your mother didn't like it very much the other day."

"She said I made a scene." Eden looks down at his feet. "And she said she didn't want to hear me saying anything else about skating that day."

"Well, today's a new day, and you've already learned something useful, haven't you?"

Eden nods. "Yeah. Only babies get their way by screaming. Kids my age kinda have to act more like grownups to win the argument."

Beth-Anne laughs. "I might not have put it quite that way, but you've got the idea. If you want me to, I'll talk to your parents again, but I want you to talk to them about it as well. Do you think you can do that?"

"Yeah," Eden says. "As long as you tell them I want to have a grown up conversation first."

"I'll definitely do that for you."

"I'm gonna tell them what I told you, but should I also say I want to start competing in Novice division next season, too?”

“Yes, you can tell them that, but let’s concentrate on keeping you skating first, okay?”

“And getting out of group classes and having more individual sessions?” he persists.

“Yes, but let’s go one step at a time. Stay in the program first, and then we’ll worry about the other stuff,” Beth-Anne says. “For what it’s worth though, I do think you've outgrown group classes. If you want to skate competitively, you should have individual coaching all the time."

"Will you do it?" Eden asks. The prospect of skating competitively seems to have distracted him from his earlier emotional outburst, and Nikolai finds himself smiling slightly. Eden reminds him of himself with his single-minded passion for the sport and for reaching the top. "I want to keep skating and maybe even get to the Olympics some day, and if you were my coach, that'd be awesome."

"I'll be your coach for the next couple of years, if that's what you and your parents want," Beth-Anne says. "When you're ready for Junior division, you might need somebody who can give you more time and attention."

"Somebody?" he echoes, sounding a little incredulous, as if he can't possibly imagine not having Beth-Anne as his coach. "Like who?"

"We'll have plenty of time to work that out, but maybe this guy over here." Beth-Anne turns and waves her hand in the direction of Nikolai, who’s leaning against the open gate to take some weight off his leg. She beckons him to come and join them. "You know, if he learns everything I'm going to teach him about coaching, and if the two of you can get along."

“Is he nice?” Eden asks, as Nikolai starts to pick his way carefully across the ice. "And he can't work with me unless he likes hugs, 'cause you know I'm a hugger."

“He’s amazingly nice,” Beth-Anne says. “A little headstrong sometimes, but he’s great guy and he’s just as obsessed with skating as you are. That should make him a good match for you, and…” she cuts the sentence short to admonish, “Nikolai, take your time! And where are your crutches?”

“Over there,” Nikolai says vaguely. He slides a bit as he stops beside Beth-Anne. “They were getting annoying, and I can put weight on my leg now, so…”

Beth-Anne makes an exasperated noise. “See what I mean? Headstrong as fu—"

“Fudge,” Nikolai interrupts her.

Eden seems not to notice the slip. He’s too occupied with scrutinizing Nikolai. "Can you be a coach? Do you even know enough about skating?"

"Oh, I might know a thing or two,” Nikolai says, doing his best to keep his amusement off his face. “I’ve won a few medals, even.”

Beth-Anne smiles. "Eden, this is Nikolai Pavlenko. He won gold at Worlds last season." She gestures at Eden and continues, "Nik, meet Eden Seong."

Eden scrunches his brow in concentration as he studies him. "But, you kinda don’t look like Nikolai Pavlenko, though? My parents let me stay up to watch a bunch of stuff from Worlds last season. I watched your free skate, but you look a lot different than you did when I saw you on TV."

Nikolai strokes his chin. "Maybe it's the beard. It's new." 

He doesn’t mention that his beard is a result of him having been too depressed to bother with shaving. By the time he felt well enough to care about his appearance again, he decided he actually liked the beard and opted to keep it. He hadn’t been aware that it had altered his recognizability that much, but then again, he’s used to his own face in the mirror. He’d never not recognize himself, but that doesn’t necessarily mean other people would instantly know it was him.

"I like it,” Eden says. “You think I can grow one someday?"

"Probably when you're older," Nikolai replies.

"I'd look cool with a beard." Eden strokes his own chin like he’s trying to imagine himself older and with facial hair. "If you were my coach, could you teach me to do quads? You make them look so easy."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Beth-Anne says. "You can't even do a triple yet."

"Yes, I can!" Eden retorts, and then quickly claps a hand over his mouth. "Um, I mean... Triple? What's that?"

Recalling the tidbit of allegedly secret information he’d heard from Marek a few days earlier, Nikolai laughs out loud. "Oh, I already like you."

Really?" Eden says.

"Beth-Anne, remember the back flip?" Nikolai says.

"Oh, lord..." Beth-Anne groans. "Don't give him ideas."

"Back flip?" Eden inquires. "What back flip?"

"Never mind, Eden," says Beth-Anne. "Forget you heard that."

"Can you really do a triple, Eden?" Nikolai asks.

Eden suddenly has the stereotypical ‘deer in the headlights’ expression, as if he doesn't know how to answer this question without getting in trouble with his coach. He glances at Beth-Anne, clearly trying to gauge her reaction. “Um… maybe?”

Beth-Anne shrugs. "If you can, you can. Never mind that I told you not to try it."

"I can," Eden confesses. "A triple toe loop."

"You don't become a champion without taking risks," says Nikolai. "You told me that, Beth-Anne. Remember?"

"You were my first student. What did I know back then?" she says.

“I think Uncle Stan told you the same thing, didn’t he?”

“Motivational bullshit.”

"Eden, how old are you?" Nikolai wants to know. "You're starting Novice next season, so ten or eleven, right?"

"I'm gonna be eleven in May," Eden answers. “May twenty-third.”

"And you can do a triple already. Nice." Nikolai meets Beth-Anne's gaze. "Can he show me?"

Beth-Anne spreads her hands. "Does it look like I could stop him?"

"You really wanna see it?" Eden says eagerly. "I promise, it’ll be good."

"I'm sure it will," says Nikolai.

"Beth-Anne, can I show him right now?"

Beth-Anne nods toward the center of the ice. "You might as well go for it. Move a few of those cones first."

Eden looks excited by this new turn of events. He grins at his cousin in the stands and gives him a cheeky thumbs up before skating away from Nikolai and Beth-Anne, and then pushing the orange cones off to the side, one by one.

Nikolai can’t look away as Eden skates around, building up momentum. The kid may be small, but that little body is packed with strength and kinetic energy. It’s not only pure power, either. He moves with a precision that surprises Nikolai; refined, graceful and disciplined. 

The kid has talent, and if he's already this advanced at ten, who knows what he might be capable of in the future?

Nikolai can predict the exact moment when Eden is about to jump. He counts the rotations.

One… two… three.

Yes!

The landing isn’t the greatest, but Eden doesn't fall or stumble as he touches down. Nikolai exhales. He’d been so invested in silently cheering for the boy’s success, he hadn’t been aware he’d stopped breathing while Eden was in the air.  Now that Eden’s blades are back on the ice, Nikolai allows himself to cheer out loud.

Beside him, Beth-Anne sounds like she might’ve been holding her breath too. She visibly relaxes as she calls out, “Well done, Eden!”

Eden skates back to them and more or less tackles Beth-Anne in his effort to hug her. Understandably exhilarated from what he's just done, he exclaims, "Did you like it? Was I awesome?"

"Yes, you were awesome, sweetheart," she says. "I'm not letting you do that again for a while though, understand? You're brilliant, but it's not a good idea to rush you along. There'll be time to work on triples and quads when you're really ready, okay?"

He acquiesces. “Okay."

"All right. Your friends are going to start showing up for class soon, so we need to put the cones back. I'm going to grab my skates and put them on, and then I'll help you set the cones up. Sound good?"

"Sounds good," Eden agrees. He turns to Nikolai. "So...? Was I super amazingly awesome or what?"

"I've never seen anyone like you," Nikolai tells him honestly.

"You think I could be in the Olympics?"

"Maybe."

"That's my dream."

"I'll tell you what," Nikolai says. "Let's both agree that we're going to work really hard to learn everything we can and to be the best we can be. Then, when we're both ready, maybe we'll work on achieving that dream of yours together."

"So, does that mean you'd really want to be my coach?" Eden asks.

"We can't know the future, so I'm not going to promise anything," Nikolai says. "But if everything goes the way we want it to for the next year or so, and we get to know each other better, then yes. Some day, I think I'd really like to be your coach."

[danyvhell-writes]

General Kuras headcanons (Touchstarved)

GN reader - no warnings | Literally my second fav character in this game, love him sm ! Had a lot to say about this sweet angel so here we are. I want him to read me a bedtime story, then we can cuddle. Also I might post about Leander next time...

• Divine smell like omg the aromas, the fragrance ! A mix of clean clothes, nutmeg, honeysuckle & jasmine. (my personal fav but it's up to you)

• Radiates warmth, physically and also in terms of energy. Whenever he's near you, you can't help but relax and feel welcome. He makes you feel safe no matter what. He thinks it's cute that you like hugging him so much.

• If you're short don't worry ! Kuras won't mind reaching things you can't, he'll be your personal assistant for high supplies you can't get.

• We know he uses he/him pronouns but being an angel, a being of pure light & love, would technically make him genderless/agender ? Can he shapeshift ? Surely, but who truly knows... Ah what a gorgeous mysterious being.

• He's able to perceive souls and energies. He doesn't need to 'know' people to actually know them if that makes sense.

• He finds you fascinating and so do you ! You love listening to whatever he has to say because it's genuinely so interesting, his thought process is so intriguing. You two always have endless conversations about so many topics ! You'd never have thought he'd be this talkative but oh do you enjoy it.

• Have a calm reading session with him and he's yours ! This is his vision of the perfect date. Can't read because you're tired ? He'll read for you while you relax, charmed by his soothing voice. Of course, he loves your voice too ! Read him your favourite book, he will listen with much attention. He's all ears.

• If you're a very spiritual person, you'll love him even more. Talk to him about spirits, energies, deities etc… there's so much he'll teach and explain to you ! This tall guy is full of knowledge (big brain over here).

• Remember when he said "Do not be afraid." ? He meant it ! I think he's still used to his original form and so doesn't want to scare anyone. His current form is more accessible for mortals and he's trying his best to 'fit in'. (His incarnation is the opposite of scary but I don't think he realizes how attractive he is)

• He's omnilingual. That's it. No but fr, I don't know what his role is/was precisely as an angel (if he was a messenger or a guardian) but he understands any languages ! He tries to hide this ability because how could he explain it without sounding suspicious ? "How do I know javanese & martiniquan creole ? Oh, well it's a long story. I do not think you would find this interesting, really MC."

• Want to share jewelry with him ? Of course, go on. Give him your stuff, he'll love wearing whatever you have especially if it's golden. If you have big earrings like his he'll love them, big 10/10, sharing is caring as we say ! You guys would switch earrings a lot and I think it's adorable.

• If you're polyglot, he'd appreciate greatly to talk with you in your native tongue or other. Need some help with your vocabulary or something ? He's here to help ! Don't hesitate to ask him anything. → Would be really fun to have you, Kuras and Ais talking in other languages together ! Imagine the possibilities !!! Such interesting conversations omg

• 100% the type of person to gift you accessories and aesthetic presents. "This brooch reminded me of you ! I thought you would like to add it to your collection. What do you think ?" and you're just standing "???? Thanks omg you're so sweet !" 😭

• I'm sure he has a lot of fun facts about anatomy and medicine in general. He's also the type of person to tell the most gruesome anecdote about one of his patient and go "Oh but they are completely fine now, you do not need to worry MC :)" like okay if you say so doc…

• We know he's not the most expressive but you get him with a simplicity that is surprising ! Whether it's the tone he uses, his choice of words or the way he looks at his interlocutor, you can easily decipher how he feels. People say he's distant and appears a little cold but you know he's the most affectionate person you've ever seen !

• Always buys you food and invites you to eat outside to make up for the fact that he cooks badly ! He's truly sorry for his poor cooking skills but is always willing to feed you the best products in town. Please, teach him some basics. How can you be a good doctor when your food is causing stomach aches ??

• Afraid to be too comfortable around him ? Don't worry, he's a doctor. If you think sneezing or burping in front of him is embarrassing, remember he sees sick people and corpses on a daily basis. ↑ If you happen to sneeze next to him and feel gross because of the snot, no prob ! He'd simply go "Oh, bless you. Do you need a tissue ? I have my handkerchief if you want." with his cute lil smile.

• If texting was a thing in TS, he would 100% overuse the ":)" smiley. You'll find it at the end of every freakin text, you can't run away from it lmaoeuzfh. "Good morning MC, how are you ? :)" "One of my patient has been affected by -insert horrible affliction-, therefore I will see you this afternoon :)" "I'm deeply sorry to hear that your mentor passed away, may they rest in peace :)" "Ais said that I, I quote, 'give off milf energy' ? Would you mind explaining this term to me ? I asked Leander but he seemed uncomfortable. :)"

• Likes going on walks with you. Think you can't keep up with his long legs ? Just wrap your arm around his and he won't lose you. He's very careful to adapt to your pace so you can enjoy the moment. → Would definitely pick flowers for you while you guys are strolling around the city. He knows flower language so he'd tell you what they mean if you want. Also you have to tell him your favourite flower(s), he'll gift you the best bouquets ever (he would make them himself of course) !

• He's a doctor so he might go picking plants and flowers for his medicines. Just imagine him with a little basket, wandering around fields like a little witch :') Go flowerpicking with him please 😩 he'd love to share this activity with you !

• Whenever you get home after spending time with him, you always find white feathers hidden on & in your clothes. Can be on your vest, in your pockets, even in your bag ! At first you wonder if Kuras doesn't own a bird and he's like "Oh ! Do not worry, these are mine." "Yours ? Like your pet's ?" "No dear, mine. I happen to lose my feathers sometimes, it's not convenient and I am sorry if this bothers you." "...Oh hm, okay ?". So then you just collect them cause they're pretty and soft. (He wouldn't mind if you used the small ones to stuff your pillows really.)

• Lets you braid his hair. If you have some pretty accessories that go well with his aesthetic, don't hesitate ! He likes how you touch his hair with softness, always careful.

• This is him. No need for further explanation.

[precious-little-scoundrel]

Do you have any plans to write another dubious oneshot kind of like the honeymoon one? I read it the other day and I didn't even think I would like anything dubious but that one was so succulent and delectable, and now I find that I'm searching for something to give me that kind of high again, a dubious piece that has just the right amount of innocence, male manipulation, and vulnerability sprinkled on top, loved it, really loved it.

Plans? Oh honey….

I so would. I so will. I so am.

To put it in lay terms, that’s my jam, I’m afraid, dubious consent and entitlement in the right setting is a dynamic that tickles me like few things can and I have actually been longing to write some more of it and yet none of my current universes have the context for it. Unless you count Sarge and the Wedding Night (which you may enjoy and it is possible to read as a stand alone.) so, that must be remedied.

Which leads me to…what I have in mind.

Context is entirely what makes this sexy to me. And for Elvis that context has to be very particular. Or else I just don’t find it in character and then I am jarred out of the story from the beginning. So allow me to dither away a little bit regarding motivation and plots, I love hearing your own opinions and perspectives on things like this, helping me craft more accurate stories, hopefully. Testimonial after testimonial, one anecdote and a thousand, there’s a common theme of this man not being pressuring in the slightest over and over again with his various conquests or flirtations. plenty of women have written about turning him down and the way he surprised them by not only being respectful of that but also lingering and enjoying their company despite knowing ‘he wouldn’t get anything from it’. While others, such as Linda to name the most prominent, talk about how his gentle and patient ways actually lead them to being ready for more.

So where does that put us when it comes to this delicious possibility of him acting entitled? In my mind I pretty much solely see it as being in a marriage, where his old-fashioned opinions would suggest he has a right to you and also where he would be operating from a consideration that you are not indeed totally unconsenting, but rather too flighty or stubborn to admit or enjoy what you want. Which is him right? Of course you want him, ha! Which leaves him with the need to make you enjoy it. Or to quote Honeymoon itself… “make this marriage work.” 😏 

That’s a brief summary of motivations I require personally for myself to even begin to explore this, but how fun is that? I love fresh, new little brides of all types. You can have the sprightly and daring ones covering up their trepidations, the demure and naïve ones desperate to please, or the shocked and aghast little darlings who need a bit of firm cajoling and their marriage vows thrown at them when they resist. All these are scrumptious scenarios and I have endless ideas for them.

Currently in the works I have two, one more advanced than the next that I see featuring this dynamic. One is very similar to a honeymoon, it would not incorporate honeymoon but it would be almost the same vibes with a vignette of storylines. The other one I am even more excited about, which I’ve begun with writing out a bit more on Regency Elvis. Which would be absolutely full of this dynamic and a married strangers to lovers trope that is one of my all time favorites on top of that.

Anyways, I’ve gone on and on but I squealed with joy over your ask because I really love how much you enjoyed it and enjoy it similarly myself. I always welcome prompts and plots and ideas, you never know what might get interwoven into any story of mine.

Xoxo

Marina 

[dozing-marshmallow]

Hiii!

Can you maybe do a Chris McLean x male reader, Where the reader is jealous of Lindsay because how Chris reacted for her costume in super hero-id? Where all contestants must dress as superheroes. (And maybe reader is Chris assistant or something?)

Hello! Thanks for the request, enjoy! 💖

CHRIS MCLEAN X MALE! ASSISTANT READER ONE SHOT

Your boss, Chris, was someone you admired. A lot. He was someone you were ashamed to say, was somewhat a second father to you. Embarrassing, but at least there was some reason since you were in proximity with the guy twenty four seven.

He was all you wanted to be by the time you could call yourself a man. Rich, handsome, famous...

Some day, you’d take the mirror out to admire a flawless face, not to keep watch on those zits.

Sigh... Let’s hope that the new skincare routine will do something good.

You observe the contestants showcase their costumes. In total, there was Lumberwoman, Timberman, Captain Alberta, All-Seeing Eye, the Human Cricket, Super Aqua Chick, and Wonder Woman. Any one of those you’ve heard before? Thank Lindsay for that.

Though Chris said all designs had to be original, he simply allowed it and deemed her the winner.

Like that.

With a smile and pleased eyes.

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. You were over here breaking your back, hands and feet for your boss without a single second look, and here Lindsay was, getting praised by him without trying.

Maybe that was it. She was being herself and not forcing anything...

Yeah well, it’s hard to not force anything when I’m the one who has to heed Chris’ needs.

Not to mention, he can’t replace a contestant as easily as he can an assistant.

If I were a contestant... Would I able to impress him on challenges?

“Boss... Did you really grow up with Wonder Woman?” you needed to know. It was difficult keeping track of when Chris did give the pretty people an advantage solely for...being pretty.

“Sure I did!” he shrugs, blind to your green eye towards the red dressed girl,“Though I might have exaggerated on Lindsay’s costume just to tick off old Courtney.” he then sighs,“Her and her lawyers have been a massive pain in the butt, but at the end of the day, it’s still my show. I won’t let court men threaten my authority.”

You can’t explain the rain of relief you felt when he said that,“Oh so... You weren’t actually all that impressed by her skills? You were pretending?”

“Why? You jealous of Lindsay, (Y/N)?” he smirked, but you were cautious if it was pulled by strings.

“O-Of course not! I mean, sure she is very beautiful...” granted, she was very good at makeup, so maybe she had some concealed flaws,“And...she is talented...” All the more reason to hate yourself.

“If only someone could say the same about you.” hey, your boss wasn’t very well known for being comforting.

“Sir...”

He laughs,“What, like I lied!”

“Maybe...” you hopelessly sigh, feeling how unfair it was that you had to be so ugly. Why couldn’t you have nice hair, nice skin like Lindsay? It’s not fair,“Puberty hasn’t been the kindest to me...” it’s not fair.

“You also?“ Chris looks up at you,“Yeah, back when I was a teen, I always had at least three of those jerks laying around somewhere on my face.”

“And now you are known as one of the spunkiest guys alive.” you take Chris’ anecdote as a chance to ask for expansion on it, a possible cure. The guy did like talking about himself, so maybe he’ll slip it in,“What’s your secret, boss?”

“It’s secret for a reason.” Ah...you underestimated him,“I should have made it part of your uniform to wear make up, but eh, I like looking at your face.”

“You... You do?” that made you happier than it should’ve.

“You know when something is so hideous, it’s handsome?”

Y-Yeah? That’s not what you wanted to hear after, but you’ll take it, I guess?

“That’s the best way to describe it. But of course, good looks aren’t everything. You’ve gotta have something on the inside to make it really alive.” He could be motivational when he wanted to, which was always.

“And Lindsay has that too.” your mind kept wickedly leading you to the apparition of the “Dumb Princess”.

You didn’t notice how creeped out Chris was getting,“You seem to like bringing her up a lot, dude. Do you like her or something?”

You sigh again,“How can’t I? She’s beautiful, popular and a favourite.”

“You could be that too you know.” this was a lot of emotion from an assistant for one day,“I don’t know why you’re acting like you’re permanently disfigured bro.”

“Because that’s how it feels like, boss.” you couldn’t stop your mouth now,“Nothing I do ever works- in fact, it only seems to make my chances of ever feeling good lower. Even you yourself said that I’m only pretty because I’m so hideous. How can someone like that recover?”

Well, this was wrong. The assistant was supposed to be helping him, not the other way ‘round. He’ll stitch the wound this time though,“Dude...remember when I told you I exaggerated on Lindsay’s costume?”

“Yes?”

“I was doing that there as well when I said that. If I really thought that way, I wouldn’t have even listed you for an interview.” Chris hated having to explain his hyperboles, but the cameras weren’t on him so he’d allow it for one time.

You feel stupid,“Really?” How haven’t you installed that sarcasm detector yet?

Your boss nods, more relaxed now that he cleared the misunderstanding,“No kidding. Everyone’s timing is different, so don’t compare yourself so much.” Aw... You needed that confidence boost,“Now do me a favour and get me my usual. Therapy isn’t free and I’m dying for something to drink.”

He really was the greatest,“Right away, Chris.”

[fayes-fics]

Omg can we get something else Modern AU Benedict pleeeeease? I loved your version of him. Just a small ficlet would be fine 😁 thanks bestie!!

Waking up

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU

Summary: Modern AU. What is the best way to be woken up…?

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, blow job, swallowing.

Word count: 3.0k

Author note: Hi nonny, I love modern au Benedict too. A small ficlet you say? Did you actually mean 3k of friends-to-sudden-lovers blowjob filth? No? Well sorry, but that’s what you’re getting ;) I could see this AU getting a sequel if there's interest. Enjoy <3 Thanks as ever to my very awesome very fast beta makaylan

“It was quite possibly the worst way I’ve ever been woken up," you giggle, ending your anecdote about your crazy day last week.

Benedict chuckles. 

“What’s the best way to be woken up then?” He asks idly, staring up at the sky.

“Hmm, maybe breakfast in bed?” you squint, both in thought and to shield your eyes from a flash of sunlight cutting through the dappled shade.

“A classic," he acknowledges, his fingers playing with the tassels on the edge of the picnic blanket. 

“What’s yours?” You ask, craning your head to look over at him reclined against the trunk of the thick oak tree you’re sheltered under.

“Honestly?” He hedges.

“Of course.”

“It’s dirty,” he says quietly.

You roll over onto your front, bringing you closer to his legs. “Oh, then definitely tell me," you smirk.

“Well, it hasn’t actually happened yet,” he admits sheepishly, “but I have this recurring fantasy I’m woken up, and well, a girl is uh well….”

“Don’t be coy now….” you tease when he hesitates. You’re fascinated by what he might say.

“She’s blowing me, ok," he hurries through the words, his cheeks blooming red, and he looks away.

“Ahhh, the blowjob fantasy," you nod, “I think that’s pretty common, Ben. No need to feel embarrassed.”

“Really?” he’s still awkward, but he's not looking away now. You notice his brief glance below your face, at your cleavage.

“Yes,” you reassure him. “I wouldn’t lie to you, bestie.”

He pulls a face. “Bestie? Really?!”

“I’m just trying to stay down with the kids," you protest with a shoulder shrug.

“You’re too old for that… we’re too old for that," he quickly amends when he sees your pout.

“Whatever, you old man” you squeeze his knee and flip over onto your back again, staring up into the tree.”What’s the plan this afternoon?” 

“Well, I was going to say let’s walk the estate, but that cake you made was delicious, and that Pimms I made was too strong… and now I can’t be arsed to move actually. Too full of cake and booze,” he jests, rubbing his completely flat stomach but blowing out his cheeks, miming as if it’s not.

“Lazy it is then," you concur, “is there more Pimms?” 

He wordlessly hands you the large thermos, and you don’t even bother to pour it into your plastic glass; you just sit up and take a swig from it.

“Damn, you’re right; this is strong," you cough “did you actually add any mixer at all?” 

His turn to shrug. “Meh, some.”

“Some? Mixologist of the year, ladies and gentlemen,” you mock gently, looking back over your shoulder at him and holding it out for him to take.

He does so and swigs some himself. “Tastes good to me," he remarks offhand.

“Oh, it tastes good to me too,” you assure, “but it’s also the reason neither of us can be bothered to stand up right now," you counter, feeling tipsier than before.

“Hmmm," his agreement is idle, and he shuffles to lay next to you, tucking one hand behind his head. “I might just y'know lay here for a few, and…” he trails off, closing his eyes.

“Nap?” You supply.

He just finger-guns at you with a tongue click, not opening his eyes. 

“Well, if that’s on offer….” You recline too, closing your eyes and humming some notes without thinking.

“Shhh, that bloody song has been stuck In my head all week," he protests, grabbing your wrist, but his eyes stay shut.

“Sorry,” you mumble, eyes also closed. His hand doesn’t release your wrist. Your last thought before you drift off is that it feels like he’s taking your pulse.

——

You awaken with a start, having no idea how long you dozed. A glance at your watch says it’s been about an hour.

Benedict is asleep next to you, his hand wrapped loosely around your wrist. You gently extract it without disturbing him and sit up with a silent stretch and yawn. You’re out on one of the hills around Aubrey Hall; you can just see the chimney tops of the house through the trees. There’s also a beautiful sweeping view of the surrounding countryside. This is one of your favourite spots to have a picnic when your friend - bestie - Ben visits his family and invites you over.

You twist around and look at him sleeping. He looks so peaceful; his handsome face relaxed. You’re not too lacking in self-awareness to know you find him attractive. You also don’t want to jeopardise your long-standing friendship by trying something. Or at least usually you don’t. Too much warm sunshine and Pimms are making you question that right now. A languid, sensual feeling in your bones, goading you to be bad. Try something.

Your mind goes back to the conversation you had earlier—his fantasy about being woken up. You bite your lip, and your eyes fall to his crotch. 

What nicer thing could you do as a bestie? This would just be a friend helping a friend, right? Your justifications sound flimsy even to your tipsy mind, but it doesn’t stop you from moving slightly closer and boldly reaching for the button of his jeans.

Hearing your heartbeat loud in your ears, you steal a quick glance around. There’s not likely to be a soul within a half-mile radius, but it’s a good instinct to check. You flick the button open and steal a glance at his face. No change. 

Gingerly you pull the zipper tab down and slowly pull open his fly; again, no response.

He’s wearing black boxer briefs, no logo on the elastic, but they look quality. And they look good on him (but then most things do), a thin trail of hair running from his belly button into the waistband. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but not up this close. He has that iliac furrow that always makes you a little feral, and you must resist the urge to run your tongue over it. That would surely wake him. For another time, if he’ll let you. (God, you hope he does)

Right now, the challenge will be getting him, well, his cock, out of his underpants without him stirring. Carefully you lift the elastic away from his body. Still no stirring. The alcohol and heat are probably making him drowsier than usual.

Emboldened, you reach in and find his cock nestling in what feels like trimmed public hair. Oh, Benedict, you think to yourself from touch alone, His skin is velvet soft, and you can’t wait to see how he looks when erect. 

You slowly ease the front of his underpants down, freeing him completely. Oh yes, please is the only thing your brain comes up with at the sight. When he doesn’t even stir, you decide to go for it. Consequences be dammed. 

Shuffling to find a comfortable position, you lower your face over him and nuzzle against him, taking a breath and enjoying the way he smells, more potent here than anywhere. It’s his soap plus that natural Benedict scent you love, the one you can smell on your bed when he crashes at yours sometimes.

You decide not to tease; if you want him to wake up mid-fellatio, you’ll have to move fast, with no gentle licks to tease it out. So you immediately wrap your lips around his head and start to move up and down. He tastes good. 

His body’s reaction is almost instant. He starts to swell in your mouth—a lot. Oh god, he’s getting bigger than you expected from his relaxed state. You have to back off a little and readjust. Then you’re back on him, sucking hard as he expands to, well, a lot of inches. You don't know if your plans for taking him all in will work now. You’ll give it a try.

You run your tongue around his foreskin and gently pull it down, tonguing the pinker flesh underneath. It’s then you hear a slight groan from above. Without removing him from between your lips, you glance up and see his still mostly asleep, his eyelids fluttering. 

It makes you bolder. You bring your hand to hold him at the base and start to introduce a little more suction. Passing your tongue over his slit, hollowing your cheeks as you bob.

You feel your clit throb against your jeans. You want to strip off, sink onto this fantastic cock and ride him right now, but that’s not the fantasy you are fulfilling today. Maybe if you’re lucky, he’ll let you some other time.

You’re enjoying his contours as he passes through your lips, the contours of veins, the frenulum, his slit that leaks a little and gives you a precursor taste. Oh, it’s not bad; it’s almost sweet compared to others. Trust his cum to be tasty. You will definitely be willing to swallow him. 

There’s another moan, and you look up to see his head move to one side, his face screw up slightly before there’s a smile on his face. Yes, baby, smile for me. Then there’s a warm hand on the back of your head. Oh, that really works for you. It’s not pressure, just a weight that feels grounding somehow. 

Surely he will wake up completely soon?

You start to swirl your tongue on his shaft and use a twisting motion with your lips. Every pass now takes him deeper. He’s the largest you’ve had for a while, and it will take some warm-up to fit him all in. You want to, though. You burn to. Never before have you wanted to make a man so stupefied by your skills. You want him begging you for more. Desperate for you. 

His hand disappears from your head, and there’s a sudden sharp inhale. Oh, he’s awake now. You don’t stop your movements, but he crests a moan so hard you glance up at him. 

“What the….?” His voice is rough with sleep, confusion evident. 

Then he looks down at you; his face is an array of emotions. 

“Y/n” it’s a disbelieving reverential stutter. God, you only ever want him to say it like that from now on.

You hold his gaze, moaning against him, pressing his tip against the roof of your mouth.

“Fuckkkkkkk, this must be a dream; this can’t be real” he sounds almost anguished and rubs the heels of his hands into his eyes.

You pull off just enough to talk to him, kissing his tip. “It’s real, Ben, and your cock is amazing. I can’t stop,” you profess and slide back onto him. 

His groan is long, loud and music to your ears. “This is actually happening?” his voice is a desperate whisper.

You just nod and go back to long sucking strokes, never letting his cockhead leave your mouth, snagging it with your lips.

“Oh my god, y/n," he groans.” please, please don’t stop” it’s hungry and throaty and low, and you flood your underwear.

“Hold my head Ben” you offer as you pull off and swallow the saliva filling your mouth. 

“Fuck, really?” His hand hovers midair, so you grab it and place it on the back of your head. 

Now he’s awake; you really want to drive him wild. Want to be the best he has ever had—this need to please something electric and hot. 

His long fingers splay across your scalp, and his blunt nails dig in slightly as he flexes his hand and gently guides your movements. 

He’s breathing hard, and his legs writhing slightly; you can tell he wants to flex his pelvis and push up into you.

“It’s ok, Ben, you can fuck into my mouth if you want," you murmur as you pull off a little and give him some firm strokes with your hand, sucking on just the spot where his hood attaches.

“Y/n don’t say stuff like that," he groans. 

“Why not” you smirk, running your tongue around his head. 

“Because I’ll embarrass myself like a teenager," he whines, “and this is too good to be true, so I need it to last a little longer. A dream to remember,” he adds wistfully.

“Ben, this isn’t a dream, I promise you” you laugh a little and start to suckle again, swirling and twisting your tongue.

“Fuck… But you would never do this to me in real life,” he pants, “never risk our friendship. As much as I have wanted to for years.”

The admission floors you, and you temporarily stop your ministrations.

“Years?” You stutter, pulling off him and just staring at him slack-jawed.

“Oh shut up, dream y/n, you’re in my head; you know I’ve been in love with you since we were teenagers," he scolds “now get back to sucking me off, please," he adjoins, a little bossy. 

“I’m me, Ben,” it’s all you can think to say—utterly stunned by his declaration. “What can I do to prove it?” you ask after a pause.

“Real-you would have thrown a drink in my face for even suggesting you shut up and suck me off," he chuckles to himself.

He’s right. That’s precisely what you would do to any man who tried that. Except for him, when he said it, your whole core pulsed.

So you do the only thing you can do. You reach for the Thermos, unscrew it and throw the rest of the drink in his face. It’s not much, probably a shot glass worth at most. Then you dive back onto his cock with fervour, mindless for him, for this. Wanting so bad for him to know it is real. 

He splutters in shock. Then groans at your actions. Then splutters again. You would laugh if you didn’t have so much, well, Benedict in your mouth.

“Y/n” it’s tremulous, a hand on your shoulder. You raise slightly, knowing instinctively he wants to hear from you.

“We can talk later, Ben. I want to give you your fantasy,” you whisper, not brave enough to look at him as you confess it, “Don’t think about it, just feel.”

The hand drops away, and wordlessly he pushes his jeans and underpants further down onto his thighs, giving you more access. 

You smile to yourself and lower your mouth. Now you take your time - slower, deliberate movements. Lathing your tongue the length of him as you push and pull off him. Loving the moan as his hand moves hesitantly into your hair. You hum your approval, and he stutters and surges against your tongue.

Yesss, Benedict, you silently praise. Feel.

He’s almost sweet with his noises: whimpers, little moans. You look up, and he’s biting his lip, eyes closed in sheer ecstasy. 

You decide to be bold. You change angle, relax your throat and push to take him all in. It burns a little as you stretch around him. Your nose rests gently on his trimmed pubic hair as you watch him react. His eyes fly open and meet yours, his face incredulous.

“Oh fuck,” it’s guttural, “you’re amazing.” 

His free hand grabs yours and laces your fingers. It’s such a tender gesture; you yearn to impress him more. So you stay down, fighting your gag reflex and need to breathe. You stretch your tongue out to lick his scrotum while you choke on his cock, drool and saliva now running out of you and trickling between his legs.

He gasps and growls, and you feel a pulse journey up his shaft. Still, you don’t move.

“You’re going to make me cum,” he cautions, almost apologetic. 

His whole body shudders as you moan around him at the thought. Nothing would give you more pleasure right now. 

Desperate for air, you have to pull off and gasp a few deep breaths, encircling the base of his cock with your thumb and forefinger, knowing it will draw things out for him just a little more. You set a rhythm of sucking draws, alternating with taking him into your throat for a few seconds. Over and over, speeding up a little as his noises get more frantic. 

He’s babbling now, surging up into your mouth with every pull. His hand on your head, pushing down slightly every time you take him all in.

“Y/n,” he warns, “I’m so close, I’m just oh goddddddd….”

You fist his cock and concentrate your mouth on his tip, jerking him with rapid movements. Craving the moment he breaks in your mouth. 

He's moaning and cursing when his whole body tenses, and then you feel the first rope of salty fluid hitting the roof of your mouth; his groans are everything. For the first time, you choose to sink onto him and choke yourself on a cumming cock, holding steady as he keeps convulsing, shooting into your throat, letting him fill you while you fight your gagging and the burn in your lungs. You hear him curse and almost shout your name, but you stay still until his movements cease.

You pull off of him with a wet pop sucking all the fluids off him as you go. You smile shyly up at him.

His hand still holds yours, and he looks at you with the most breathtaking expression. 

“ I…. I dreamt it would be you,..” his voice a thick whisper.“my fantasy… it was always you.”

It’s your turn to be breathless.

“And even though I thought of it a hundred times, it was never like that.” He surges up, capturing your lips on his. It’s your first ever real kiss with your best friend in the world. And it’s breathtaking.  

“We do need to talk about all this,” his tone sincere, as he breaks the kiss and your mind flashes to his love confession, “…but there is also the matter of repayment”, he adds with a crooked smile, 

“Repayment?” You echo confused.

“Well, you more than fulfilled my fantasy. The very least I can do is wake you up with breakfast in bed tomorrow,” he reasons, his voice now honeyed and rich.

You chuckle warmly as he leans close, his lips on the shell of your ear.

“After all, you’ll need all that food after I’m done keeping you up all night.”

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @wysteria-clad @kkpolakow @colettebronte @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore

[blues824]

may i rq obey me bros reaction to an mc whose a special fbi agent in the bau ? tyty

Lucifer

Wasn’t expecting to receive an exchange student that had such an important role at such a young age. Plus, you might hold the key to achieving Lord Diavolo’s dream. In addition to that, you both look awesome in suits.

He would ask you about your job and what a typical work day would look like. When you tell him about some of the criminals you had to evaluate and the more gruesome crime scenes, he genuinely wonders what went wrong while God was creating man.

Once, he took you out on a dinner date and he was impressed by how well you were able to evaluate his psyche. Lucifer is the last person I’d describe as lovesick, but when he found out about your accomplishments and overall competence… he has fallen irreversibly in love.

Mammon

Oh no. Not someone responsible and a borderline therapist! Luci, come pick him up. He’s scared. He doesn’t like how well you are able to read him based on his actions. It’s truly unsettling how you never take a break from analyzing behavioral patterns.

It’s funny whenever he comes running to complain to you about a shift and you’re just standing there like, “you think your job is hard?? You wouldn’t survive 5 seconds in my shoes!” You would often respond with your own experiences, what with all the gory crime scenes and criminals you had to evaluate.

Once, he took you out on a ride in his car and he was amazed at how well you were able to see the toxic relationship between him and his brothers. While you weren’t an actual therapist, you let him know that you would always be willing to lend an ear whenever he needed it.

Leviathan

He would have thought you were so cool. They didn’t have a government organization like the FBI in the Devildom, so everything he knew about it was either from TV or you. For once, he doesn’t freeze up because if the conversation gets dry, he’ll ask about your job.

He’s seen a crap-ton of anime, right? Some of them belong to the horror genre. When you tell him about the horrors of your job, he’s not disgusted. Instead, he’ll slowly wrap his arms around you, asking if you get nightmares because of it. If you say yes, he’d suggest having him sleep in your room.

One day, he invited you to hang out in his room. It was quiet, but not the uncomfortable kind. In fact, both of you were watching a soft anime called ‘Orange’. You softly told him that regret was a common reason for committing a crime. You explained that grief manifested in different ways, sometimes destructive. It was intriguing to him.

Satan

He also thinks you're admirable. He’s read about what you do in his murder mystery novels that he enjoys reading so much. He would ask you about the most disturbing cases you had to deal with. You would tell him about a typical day on the job. He was like a sponge whenever you told him anything.

He wants to hear all about your job. The good, the bad, the ugly… all of it. He will often bring books and ask how accurate the story was. It would make for great conversations between the two of you. You have a bunch of anecdotes, and he has two fully functioning ears to listen to you.

One day, he treats you to a dinner date at a new cafe. You both had been reading a new murrder mystery series that recently found its way to your favorite book shop. You both enjoyed getting away from HoL to revel in each other's company. Y’all would talk about what you thought of the book as well as anything else that came to mind.

Asmodeus

If there’s one thing he knows about FBI agents, it’s that they can always pull off a tuxedo like nobody else can. So what does he do? Why, he makes suits for the both of you! Some suits match, others have elements that compliment each other. To him, it’s his way of telling the world that you’re his and he’s yours.

There will be a ton of self-care nights where both rant about anything that comes to mind. Asmo often found himself letting you do most of the talking. He gets to learn more about you by remaining quiet. For example, you are able to analyze patterns in certain crimes, furthering investigations by a significant amount.

Once, Asmo took you out on a shopping date for more fabrics and accessories for outfit ideas you had. On the way there, however, you looked in a nearby alley and saw crime scene tape and a police officer. You had a PTSD flashback and started hyperventilating. Asmo had to talk you through breathing normally and he quickly led you away.

Beelzebub

Doesn’t know much about your profession, but he’s willing to learn! He’s probably seen a few crime shows while snacking, so he might have some sort of clue. As you both make a delicious snack in the kitchen, he’d ask you questions about what you did and why you chose this profession over everything else.

There will be a few nights where he invites you to his room and you don’t really do anything besides eat and talk. Beel is a demon of few words, so he will often let you rant about how your life is adjusting to the Devildom and how you either miss or don’t miss your Human Realm job.

One night, Beel treated you to lunch at a higher-end restaurant. He would continue to ask you about the things you’ve witnessed in your worst cases. You told him about the gruesome crime scene, the unstable criminals you had to evaluate. He didn’t eat dinner that night, nor for any of the other nights following.

Belphegor

And here he thought all humans were weak. Well, physically, you are. But you have to be both mentally and emotionally ready to face what you do for work. He doesn’t know a ton about what you do, but he’s probably like Beel where he’s seen a few crime shows.

Many times, the others have caught you both wrapped up in each other’s arms, sleeping peacefully as though nothing was wrong with the world. However, he knows that you have nightmares. He can sense it even when he’s asleep. He often has to use his powers on you to get you a good night’s rest.

One night, you both were just hanging out in the attic when you told him something very personal. During your time as a BAU FBI agent, you were threatened, taunted, hurt, overwhelmed… but nothing prepared you for that day when Belphie decided to take your life. You told him that you were actually glad that you could join the souls you brought closure to, and that’s when he lost it. He let a few tears shed, whispering apologies left and right.

[ursae-minoris-world]

20 questions for fic writers

Tagged by @starlightvld- thank you!!! ☺️

1. How many works do you have on A03? 42! (neat!)

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 140,503!

3. What fandoms do you write for? Mostly vld. I have a Good Omens fic and always want to write more and a few fandom that I'm tempted to write for, but I'm still very much in vld.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? - Breaking point (vld, sheith) ; A little mouse told me (vld, sheith); Flowers and Blood (vld, sheith); A cure to loneliness (Good Omens, ineffable husbands)

This gets long so I'm adding the rest under a read more!!

5. Do you respond to comments? Yes! I do! Sometimes I can take a little long but I really enjoy talking with my readers!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Just a call... (vld, gen) I think! It's an open ending, but it ends up on a frustrating note (which was the point).

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Oh man, they almost always have a happy or at least hopeful ending. Let's go with A little mouse told me (vld, sheith).

Oh, hey, fun anecdote! Someone commented on Stay with me (vld, sheith) to tell me it was the 200,000th work in the "happy ending" tag! They had just witnessed the tag going up to that number with my fic!

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not so far, thankfully. (Happened once on fanart though, but it was just one dumb comment by an anti).

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I haven't so far, I'm not really interested in writing it (never say never, though!).

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? Well, I did 2 fairly recently for a crackship event! It was loads of fun. The craziest might be A Mysterious French Chef, which started as a Hunk&Remy idea, but ended up involving Hunk, Allura and the space mice for vld, and Linguini, Colette, and Remy for Ratatouille, and everyone interacting pretty significantly. I really loved mashing the 2 universes, and for something that started as a "crack" idea, it ended up working surprisingly well!!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of. I've had some original (anonymous) poems that I cowrote with a friend plagiarized down to using our actual pseudonym, but that wasn't in fandom or even online!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? I don't think so.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes! Five times Shiro broke the rules, and one time Keith did with VirdisDrachen (vld, Shiro&Keith). It's based on a roleplay. Other than that, while it's mostly an artist+writer big bang collaboration, I think Square_Orange and I did discuss the plot a fair amount for Let It Snow! (vld, sheith).

I also have 2 fics that are remixes of other people's work, done for the sheith remix event : When you lived! (the “Enormous, within your small hands” remix) inspired by a fic by @annaofaza, and High Score! (the “I want us forever” remix) inspired by a fic by Tragedy_Machine.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? To no-one's surprise: sheith.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I am fairly good at finishing my wips, even if I do have some stuff that has been waiting for a while. I still have my notes about Keith grieving Shiro between s2 and s3 and how the team tried to support him and each other but how things became tense, that I wrote just after s3 aired! I still hope to get to it one day!

There's also the collab with VirdisDrachen tbh because we dropped the rp after a while and I wouldn't finish this alone. So I'm afraid this one will stay as is.

16. What are your writing strengths? I think I'm good with dialogues and characterization? Themes like friendship, found family are my jam, too. Of course it's subjective.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I am learning, but action and fight scenes are *hard*. (But I also love them? haha). On the exact opposite side, stories with very low stakes are sometimes hard to write, when it's just 100% fluff and no conflict, unless it's like, a short scene... It's easier with some emotional or romantic build up (ex mutual pining > getting together) but otherwise I really have to *think* to plot the fic. I'm so used to stories centered around conflict (in the literary sense, including inner conflict, not necessarily an actual fight).

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I agree with @starlightvld that if it's a language that I'm not personally fluent in, I'd look for a native speaker who might want to help or avoid it. Except maybe for conlangs, like Sindarin or Klingon. Although if I ever write in a fandom with something like that, I would f*cking love to get insight from one of these people who actually studied them and are fluent. In a more general way, I'd be cautious that it actually brings something to the story, that it makes sense to use the language that way, and to do it in a way that doesn't confuse readers too much (unless I am purposefully writing for those who know the language, I guess). I will say that I do love different languages to be aknowledged, like for vld fics that actually dig into the paladins having different languages, and the Galra and Altean also, and so on (ex fics where they have universal translators and then there are issues when they break or they can't rely on them for whatever reason).

19. First fandom you wrote for? Voltron! My first fic was a Hunk-centric gen fic, While some count sheep, and I'm still really fond of it!

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? Oh, that's hard, I like them all for different reasons. I do enjoy Carry me away for the sheith saving each other vibes. A little mouse told me (sheith written from the space mice pov) was such a fun exploration! Honestly, the most kudosed ones in question 4 are all fics I am proud of. To chose a lesser known one, I also love A special day , a vld gen Hunk-centric fic!

Tagging... @sodomhipped, @tomatocages, @an-aphorism @museaway @jacqulinetan @levyscripts @annaofaza and whoever wants to do this!

(also no pressure at all if you are tagged!)