#the result is some awkward cards

[dravidious]

You're the most amazing

creature!

I also filled the other 5 color pairs with various frogs

[nezuscribe]

𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: six years ago, when they placed that sorting hat on your head, nobody expected for it to assign the muggleborn to the slytherin house, but it did. six years later, you find yourself as alone as the day you walked through those doors. little did you expect the prince of slytherin, the pureblood maniac himself, gojo satoru, to be the one to coincidentally fill your empty hours.

warnings: gojo is a pureblooded slytherin, slight angst, slight messy makeout

word count: 12.6k

note: part two is out now! comments and reblogs are always appreciated! thank you to @jadeisthirsting for beta reading as always!

part two

slytherin!gojo masterlist + jjk masterlist

When you were little, all the strange and peculiar things that happened to you, such as Ms. Bromsely, the awful maths teacher's desk going up in flames, or Patricia Gallaghers rings disintegrating after she teased your dress, were chalked up to chance or just something else.

Your mother was too busy covering extra shifts down at the pub to worry about it, so she rarely made an occurrence to the meetings your headmaster had scheduled, resulting in very awkward meetings with just you as you were explained how peculiar it was that you always seemed to be in the middle of all these weird occurrences.

So when that brown spotted owl almost crashed into your bedroom window at the ripe age of eleven, explaining that you were chosen to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, you suspected that one of your classmates was playing a cruel joke on you, but alas, it turned out to be very real. 

You were whisked away soon enough, stumbling your way in some sort of haze through Diagon Alley, and then in a blink of your eyes, you found yourself waving goodbye to your mother from that red train, on your way to a life you may have only imagined when you were younger, dreaming of a place far away from where you were.

And you loved it.

The feasts, the history-soken steps that you walked on every day to get to class, the little town that was within walking distance that you could go to every weekend. 

While most of the students here had been introduced to this early on in their lives, you hadn’t. Your mother was just as shocked and as bewildered as you were all those years ago, and given your special circumstances, sometimes you wondered if you were yet to see the thick of it, wondering if some things were hidden from you given your upbringing, given your blood.

But you blinked out of your stupor, being brought down from your daydream to the sound of quills scratching, the smell of faint smoke burning in the background, and the quiet sounds of different animals in their cages. All of these tall-tell signs of the transfiguration classroom. 

After years of spending time in this classroom, it slowly became one that you’d look forward to, and despite most Slytherins having an aptitude for potions or defense against the dark arts, transfiguration was where you shined the best.

The light that carded through the high arching windows illuminated the desks, and you were glad seeing how the back of the classrooms was usually the most poorly lit place. Unfortunately, they’re the only places you found yourself sitting throughout the years, which is just another reason why this specific classroom in itself brought you a slight sense of comfort. 

“...cross-species and inter-species transfiguration is one of the most difficult, if not the most difficult, sort of transfiguration to achieve. Even the most accomplished witches and wizards find themselves struggling with it,” you watched as Professor McGonagall walked around the front of the classroom, her graying hair pulled into a tight bun behind her head, her emerald robes swaying behind her like green waves, “The only way we were able to replicate this form of magic is through ancient runes.” 

Her eyes raked over all the students of the class, to make sure that everybody was understanding the weight of her words. As seventh years it was expected that you all would be ready to face the challenges of such a high-level class. But especially with Professor McGonagall, seeing just how difficult her classes usually were. 

“Of course, this was all covered during your fourth years, so I hope that some of you,” she gave a knowing look over her glasses, “Remember your lessons.” 

You momentarily caught her eyes.

You squirmed in your seat, knowing that her displeased look was directed to the Gryffindor’s sitting next to you. The boy to your left had his mouth open in a large yawn, promptly shutting it when McGonagall looked at him, and the girl to your right was busily finicking with a piece of parchment, trying to figure out how to enchant it so that it could turn into a swan to send to her boyfriend who was sitting across the class. 

You loved Hogwarts. Most of the time. 

The reason why you usually found yourself at the back of class, sitting with people you barely knew, and the reason why you were yet to experience most of the core memories other witches and wizards your age experienced was because you weren’t welcomed the way other would be by their assorted houses. 

Nearly six years ago, when Professor McGonagall placed that sorting hat on your head, you didn’t know what to expect. 

You had heard from some of the people that you sat near on the train that Gryffindor was best. Of course, the boy who said it came from a family of Gryffindors, but his friends seemed to agree with him. Ravenclaw was only for the smart people, which you hoped you might be sorted into and Huffelpuffs were known for their loyalty, which, judging by your mother's statement about how you dared to leave home, you didn’t have much of. 

But the Slytherin house seemed…forbidden. 

At least for you, anyways. 

“And what about that girl we saw?” One of the boys pointed outside the carriage window into the little hall outside, pointing to a much older girl wearing green robes, walking with some other friends who wore adorning colors, “What house is she in?” 

The other boy, who seemed to have the most knowledge out of anyone, scoffed, shaking his head. 

“Not for you, sorry,” he leaned in closer as if he were telling a secret. You tried to listen in, not making it obvious seeing how you weren’t any of their friends and how this was the only cart available with space, “That’s the Slytherin house.” 

“Why’s it not for me?” The other boy argued, his face pulled into a scowl.

“Well, Slytherins are many things. Ambitious, cunning,” the other boy said but shook his head disapprovingly, “But above all else, they’re all purebloods. Some are half-bloods, but even that’s rare. You’re coming from a muggle family. My father works at the ministry, and he says that some of the people in his department who were Slytherin still despise muggle-borns and muggles even long after they’ve left.”

So you had a basic understanding of what to expect. Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, or Gryffindor.

But when the hat cried out “Slytherin!” you almost jumped in your seat, looking behind you at the professor, your face of hesitancy surely mirroring hers. 

And you soon found out that the boy on the train (who was sorted into Gryffindor, big shock), was right. Word spread quickly that a muggle-born was sorted into Slytherin, the first in centuries, and that it surely must’ve been a mistake. 

But the sorting hat doesn’t go back on its word, and what was said was done. So six and a bit years later you found yourself as the pariah of your own house and were forced to fade into the background to avoid any further trouble. 

“...and this is the one project in which I’m having you work with partners, picked by me, of course. The research that is needed to go into this is too much to be done alone.” Professor McGonagall continued, and you perked up in your seat a little bit, your brows furrowing at her words. 

You felt a part of your heart race at the thought. Normally when professors assigned partners, it either left you with a fellow Slyhterin who hated your existence and forced you to do the project on your own, or somebody from another house who didn’t know you and forced you to do the project on your own. 

Your tongue felt heavy as she began reading off the paired names on her list, your hands becoming clammy. 

“Miss Finnegan and Mister Belton. Miss O’Shea and Miss Adan,” The girl next to you, who you quickly pieced together was Leila O’Shea groaned, her face depleted as she realized she wasn’t going to be paired with her boyfriend, and you watched as she sulkily went to the other girl's desk. 

You listened in anticipation as she went down the list, your heart beating loudly and comically in your chest the closer it seemed that she was getting to the end. 

“Mister Reeve and Mister Thompson,” she paused momentarily as she watched the two boys clap each other on the back, her lips threatening to quirk up into a smile, just waiting to read what foolishness they were going to write, “Miss Ward and Mister Green,” you felt like you might be getting off the hook, that maybe she took pity on you but it all came crashing down when she looked at you, a knowing look in her eyes far worse than pity as she read your name along with perhaps the singular person you would’ve paid all your money to not be paired with, 

“…will be with Mister Gojo,” you heard some of your housemates laugh out loud, some of them pushing at the boy and ruffling his hair as if he were the one that was going to face the brute of everything. He sat near the front, and you could see a flash of his white hair as he begrudgingly began to pack his things up, having no choice but to sit next to you seeing how the seats next to him were filled up. 

You watched as she rolled the piece of parchment back up as if she hadn’t just sentenced your public execution, and she raised a singular thin brow at the faces that were looking back at her, “Well? Get a move on. This essay is due in a month.”

You tried to take in a deep breath, your eyes trained on the blank piece of parchment in front of you as if you couldn’t hear his footsteps getting closer and closer to you, as if you didn’t just feel his robes brush up against your legs as he sunk into his seat.

This can’t possibly be happening.

Anybody would’ve been better than him. Even Marley Petterson and her constant poking and teasing about how your clothes were held together by scraps, and how you must’ve lived with mud people before you came to Hogwarts would’ve been better than him. Being forced to be a partner with the Prince of Slytherin was torture, and you wonder if after all these years Professor McGonagall was just now starting to show her distaste towards you. 

That day on the train was the first time you heard his name. 

“You see that boy? The one with the white hair?” The boy discreetly pointed out the window to one of the kids standing outside your cart. All the other boys hurriedly nodded, each craning their necks to get a better look at him, “He’s a Gojo. He comes from a line of Slytherins, each one worse than the one before. They’re purebloods, obviously. You wouldn’t find a speck of anything else in them. They’re rich too, filthy rich. They could buy this school if they wanted to.” All the other boys guffawed, but he seemed serious as if this stranger's family was nothing to be taken lightly. 

“When it comes to Slytherins, there are four families to be wary of. There’s the Gaunts and the Malfoys. There’s the noble house of Black, but lastly…them. House Gojo is one that every other wizarding family steers away from.”

After the day you were sorted you also quickly realized why most wizarding families stayed away from them. His word seemed to be law, and all the other Slytherins, especially those in his inner circle, held him to it. 

You peeked from the corner of your eye, watching as he unpacked all his supplies, his face contorted in obvious anger and disgust, and you thickly swallowed. You had done a good job in staying away from him these past couple of months, fortunate enough to only be called a mudblood and an offense to their ancient house a couple of times by him and his posse. 

His left-hand ring finger almost caught your eye in the sun, the gold ring with his house emblem shining brightly, a clear reminder of your difference with him, and you tried to hide your old school bag, riddled with holes and stains, something you just couldn’t replace. 

When he was done unpacked, he sat there for a couple of seconds, the silence between the two of you thick and heavy. You felt like you could choke on it, your fingers twitching to do something, to leave.

“...this is insulating…” he was talking to himself, shaking his head in disbelief as you sat awkwardly, not knowing what to do.

Gojo Satoru wasn’t one for many words. You had observed him from afar, long enough to see that aside from the occasional words he’d exchange with his closest friends or the few times he’d mutter traitor under his breath when the two of you locked eyes, he was a more brooding type of person. 

When he was angry, he hid it well. His cheeks might’ve flushed a bit, his nose flaring, but he never made an outburst. Which is why, at this moment, you could tell that he wasn’t in a particularly elated mood. 

“I…” you started, your mouth going dry at the way his eyes snapped to you, cold and cruel, “I can do the essay. I’ll get it done in time…if you want.” 

Most times your partners would just tell you to do the work, expecting (and knowing), you’d just say yes and go along with your day. But here, you couldn’t afford to let your guard down, rather having your pride be bitten at rather than your overall self. 

You heard him snort, his nose wrinkling in disgust as he rolled his eyes. 

“What? And have you do everything wrong?” His voice was hushed and clipped as if talking to you a second longer than needed would ruin him and everything he and his family stand for. 

He unrolled his piece of parchment, opening up his book as he kept his head down. 

“Well, I’m fairly decent with transfiguration,” you spoke up, trying for a smile that quickly fell when you felt his eyes burn into yours. For most of your time at Hogwarts, the only times you’ve ever really spoken to Gojo was when he was hurling insults at you, his words spurred on by his group of friends behind him. 

Gojo Satoru knew his worth. He knew that his family name would last through centuries and that the gold his family owned could buy out the entire ministry if they wanted to. Those around him treated him as such; as if his word was law. It also didn’t help that he was incredibly charming, growing into his looks over the years. 

You watched as he grew taller, his lanky figure now filled out with muscles that you could sometimes see through the baggy uniform. His eyes were always a topic of conversation, the infamous Gojo blue. His arctic white hair grew a little longer, sometimes falling in his face when he wasn’t aware. He was gorgeous, and you couldn’t even lie to yourself that he wasn’t.

Aside from his looks, he was also freakishly smart. If he hadn’t been sorted into Slytherin you were sure that Ravenclaw would’ve been fitting for him as well. He was always top of the class with O’s on every exam. 

Above all else, he knew his difference from everybody else. Even his closest (pureblooded) friends weren't even near his level. Even before he could walk, he’s been told of this. Not only that but he’s been told of the vileness of muggleborns. How their nature threatens the very fabric of wizarding society, and how muggles who have somehow been blessed with magical abilities are below humans, that they don’t deserve the rights every other witch and wizard has. 

Which means that you, the sole muggle-born in Slytherin, stood against everything Gojo Satoru believed. You were an abnormality, inhuman, somebody that he should resent for even existing.

“Well, we could always divide the work…?” You offered, your feet anxiously bouncing on the ground as you waited for his response. One of the blessings of sitting so far away from everyone else is that sure, they looked over to see how this was going, but at least they couldn’t listen in as you embarrassed yourself even further. 

His eyes darted over to your paper, blinking once, deep in thought. 

He sighed deeply through his nose, swallowing thickly as he gave you a singular, curt nod. 

“Hm,” he hummed, not even sparing you a glance as he began going to work, his pen scratching against the paper as his eyes began reading over the page, “But I’ll read what you write,” he said quickly, “I refuse to have my rank tank just because you mudbloods can’t do your work properly.” 

Mudblood  

After six years of it, you know you should’ve gotten used to it, but the stinging in your chest would argue otherwise. 

Your shoulders sank, eyes falling to the ground as your fingers fidgeted. You murmured something inaudible as you opened your book to the page McGonagall instructed you to. 

—

The days moved on and everything continued as it always did. 

The essay you had to write with Gojo was a slight hindrance in your usual schedule, but the two of you worked in silence in class and never interacted outside of it. Sometimes when his elbow would accidentally bump into yours as the two of you were busy writing he’d make a sort of noise in the back of his throat, his hand snatching back quickly as if you had somehow burnt him, but that was the most of your interactions. 

Sometimes when you were in the common rooms, late at night, you could hear him talking with his friends, talking about how heinous and ridiculous it was that McGonagall paired the two of you together, but you tried to ignore it.

That following week you found yourself back in the transfiguration classroom, working away quietly as you tried to understand the scriptures on the pages you had to read. You found yourself lucky that this subject was the one you might have some sort of talent in, seeing that this sort of ancient magic was just as difficult as McGonagall made it out to be. 

You heard some mumbling next to you, your eyes discreetly looking over at your partner, only to find his head in his hands as his brows furrowed in both annoyance and confusion. 

“...what does this…?” You heard him say to himself, watching as he flipped the page back and forth as if he was missing something. 

You looked back at your work, the talking around the room drowning out whatever it was that Gojo was saying to himself. 

Or at least you tried to drown out the noise, if not for the fact that your partner made some sort of sudden movement that managed to knock his ink bottle down, spilling ink all over the table. You moved your work to the side, watching as some of the ink soaked into your robes.

“Fuck,” he snapped, moving suddenly from his chair so that the ink would drip onto his clothes, “damn it,” he looked around almost helplessly, his hands clenching in anger after seeing all his hard work soaked up in black. 

“Wait,” you suddenly say, your arm outstretching over his body, watching as his head snaps over to you, “Stop moving for a second.”

He didn’t have much time to bite back at how dare you order him around because you had already begun to pull out your wand, flicking it on a quick movement as you murmured “tergeo,” watching as the ink slowly yet surely began clumping up in the middle of the table, going back with snake-like movements into its bottle. 

There was a beat of silence. 

Gojo sat still in his seat, his lips pursing as he finally let out a deep breath. He pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing at his eyes. 

“Thanks,” he said, but it seemed like he had to bite the word out, choking on it as if thanking you was taking too much of his mental willpower to do. 

You nodded briefly, still watching him as he settled back into his seat. 

“Uh,” you scratched at the back of your neck, knowing that you’d probably regret asking this in a matter of seconds, but somehow not able to stop yourself as you continue talking, “I don’t mean to be rude, or intrude, but is everything alright?”

You hold your breath as you watch Gojo sigh, his eyes shutting briefly. You braced yourself to be snapped at, to be victim to yet another reminder of how much you’ve tarnished the Slytherin name, but he just shakes his head. 

“No,” he seethes, but when he peeks over at you he licks his lips, gnawing on the inside of his cheek as he grabs his papers, moving it over to the middle of you two as he motions to it, “Everything is not alright. Something’s wrong with the book…and I have no idea what. I’ve read this page at least twenty times and it makes no bloody sense to me,” 

You try to hide your surprise. 

That’s probably the most he’s ever spoken to you without any mention of your muggle heritage. 

You move in a little closer to look at what he’s pointing to. You try not to heat up under his stare, squinting your eyes as you try to make sense of what it was he was writing, trying to hide your reactions when you realize that he was doing most of it wrong. 

The point of this essay was to learn about the origins of cross-species transfiguration, and eventually an animagus transformation and how it even came to be. 

You had to reference at least five other books and scrolls to piece together the correct herbs and spells needed to even begin the process. McGonagall honestly probably told everybody to reference the textbook because there was nothing in it. This essay was a testament to how many people went out of their way to learn about the true nature of transfiguration. 

What Gojo had written was something you were sure almost everybody else was writing as well, a mistake you almost made. His research was simple and black and white, and he was getting everything wrong because he was missing at least ten different very important points. 

“So,” you swallowed nervously, chewing on your already chapped lips, “You have the main ideas down,” which was a lie, “But there are just some things-” Before you could even finish your sentence the bell tower chimed once, twice, and then a final time, telling everybody that their class was over. 

All around you people began hurriedly packing up, surely excited for lunch, the chatter of conversations growing in volume, and you didn’t have to look at Professor McGonagall to know that she was irked by her student's sudden enthusiasm to leave. 

Gojo sat motionless, still looking over at you, waiting impatiently for you to finish. 

“I…” you scratched at your hands, “I can’t go over everything right now, but tomorrow I’ll bring in the other-” He raised his hand, packing up his bag as he cut you off. 

“No, not tomorrow, I’m already behind,” you watched as he shoved his papers into his leather bag, “Just explain it now.” 

You wanted to laugh, not knowing how long it might take to explain your twisted thinking process to him and you doubted he wanted to stay in this classroom with you for a minute longer. 

“Well, there’s quite a bit of things,” you searched for the right word, “Missing. I have to study for the potions exam right now, but I’m going to be in the library tonight anyway. I could show you then…?” 

You stood at your chair, your eyes looking up into his, wavering. 

What did you just do? Surely he’d laugh now in your face, roll his eyes at how absurd it was that you could even suggest such a thing, just as he usually does.

Instead, he looks at you, then at his paper, and then at yours, which is at least three pages long at this point. He’d never admit it out loud, but you were understanding this assignment better than him and nobody in his group seemed to understand it as well as you were. 

“Fine,” he runs a hand through his hair, the white sticking out between his fingers like snow perched on grass.

Your brows furrow, your lips pursing together in sudden confusion. 

“What, okay,” you fiddle with your fingers, tugging on them in that anxious way you always do, watching him tighten the straps on his bag, “But wait, what time…” You try to call out but he has already left, his robes swaying behind him as you stand alone at your seat.

You slowly begin to pack up, your thoughts running at what you have just done.

—

The potions exam went well enough, but you couldn’t stress out about it too much right now. 

After dinner (which you ate earlier than most, too anxious to be late), you made your way to the library, found a table near the back, somewhere that didn’t get a lot of foot traffic, and set up your workstation for the time being. 

Amongst many of the amenities Hogwarts had, the library was one of them you loved dearly. 

It wasn’t usually too busy, but it filled up quickly the night before some exams. But you didn’t mind it, you liked being surrounded by people. In the Slytherin common rooms, you usually had to wait until everybody had filtered out or had gone to bed before you could make your way down, not wanting to face their icy looks or the way they’d talk behind their hands when you were near, so you opted to be in the library above anything else. 

The muted sounds of pages turning, of people talking in hushed whispers, and the books that would sometimes rearrange themselves were calming. You liked the candles that were lit carefully around the large room, illuminating it deep into the night. 

You made sure that the work you had already written was set out, your quill resting straightly adjacent to it, your ink pot above it. Your pile of books sat neatly to the left. You wanted to seem as organized and as composed as you could, this might be your one chance to show the prince of Slytherin that you weren’t the slob he must imagine you as. 

The clock on the wall ticks, and you note that it’s nearly ten minutes till five. You chew on your lips, cracking your fingers as you keep your eyes trained on the door, waiting for the familiar mop of white hair to appear. 

After the first ten minutes, you begin fidgeting again, moving your papers centimeters above where they were as if they could appear any straighter. You weren’t wearing the usual house robes, and you hoped that your decision didn’t cause him to walk in, scan the area, and leave because he didn’t see what he expected to see. 

But you pushed those worries aside, just doing your best to watch the people who filed in and out of the large double doors. 

After the clock struck six, you began to stop looking at the doors, instead choosing to just get some work done while you were here, and opened up one of the books. Of course, he probably just lied just because he wanted to. There might be some of his friends standing outside, snickering as they watched you wait stupidly. 

You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, feeling like an idiot.

For the next half hour, you busied yourself with reading about the start of the animagus process, about the mandrake leaf, and the strenuous process of keeping it on your tongue for an entire month. 

Around you, you could hear the scrapping of chairs on the floor, and how most of the people were beginning to leave seeing that it was getting pretty late. The library closes promptly at eight, and although it was an hour till that happened, most people left till then. 

Your eyes flitted to the door, not seeing anybody, and deflated. 

Stupid, you repeated in your head. 

So you began shutting the books strewn out in front of you, packing them all up in your bag as you rubbed at your tired eyes. Madam Pince also made a deal if you left any ink splotches on the table, so you cast a quick tergeo charm to clean up any spots you might’ve missed. 

“You’re leaving?” 

You looked up from the table, eyes squinting to see his tall figure standing in front of you, his face flushed red, sweat dotting on his brow bone as a bit of his hair stuck to his face. Gojo was panting, his chest heaving up and down as if he had just run across the entire castle, and his brows were creasing in the middle, looking down at you as you seized your packing. 

You note his green quidditch robes and muddy boots. 

“I, um,” you looked at the nearly empty table in front of you, and you shook your head, giving him a small smile, “No, no, I just got here.” 

He looked at your bag, as if not believing you, but not caring too much as he hummed in the back of throat, rounding the table, and plopped himself down in the seat in front of you. 

Wordlessly, Gojo began taking out his supplies, and you figured you might as well, setting everything back up to where you initially had it.  You watched as he slyly looked around the two of you, his shoulder becoming less tense when he realized it truly was just the two of you left in the library. 

“Practice took up too much time,” he mindlessly explains, a clear explanation for why he looked so different from the put-together self he usually is. He pushed some of his hair out of his face, his breathing still a little erratic. 

You nod, swallowing thickly as you pretend to understand the ins and outs of quidditch. 

You were aware that amongst one of the many things Gojo could do, on his long lists of talents (which if there was a list would consist of his ability to speak five languages or his incredible ability to calm any creature down), was that he was an amazing seeker. 

While you weren’t very familiar with how quidditch worked, despite trying to best to follow along with others' conversations as you listened in, you could understand that his forte on a broomstick wasn’t talked about just because he was Gojo Satoru. 

He was fast on his broomstick, and thought it could be chalked up to the fact that every year he came to practice with the newest model, he could whize past anybody. He was nimble as well. With how large his hands were, larger than the other house seekers, he was able to secure a win for almost every single match ever since he got recruited. Last year he was named captain of the Slytherin quidditch team, so you were able to piece together that he got held up with the recent tryouts.

“That’s um,” you scratch at your arm awkwardly, “That’s alright…okay so I’ll try to be as quick as I can, but there’s a lot that McGonagall wants us to do,” you start slowly, letting his get situated as you push forward the first book that helped you out, “Oh, that textbook doesn’t help…right now,” you quickly said as you saw him pull out the assigned reading, saw how he looked at you for a second, his face scrunching up in an unreadable emotion. 

“This one is good, though,” you motion to the one in front of you. 

Gojo’s movements are slow as he takes it, eyes scanning over the title until he looks back at you. 

He doesn’t do much talking, you decide. 

“This book covers cross-species transfiguration, but it briefly mentions inter-species transfiguration. But the author referenced this one,” you pull out the other hefty textbook, sliding it over to him, “And this covers all things related to inter-species transfiguration and then goes into animagus transfigurations.” 

You pause, biting your cheek to stop you from rambling on. Transfiguration was something that you could talk about forever and ever, and you’d never really talked about out loud to anybody else up until now. 

“McGonagall said that the essay was on inter-species, she never mentioned animagus transfiguration,” Gojo said suddenly, pushing the two textbooks back, letting out a heavy sigh as if this was all a waste of his time.

You nod slowly, picking at some of the skin around your nails.

“R-right, and you’re right,” you quickly sputter, nodding, “But because cross-species and inter-species transfiguration are so close together, I doubt that this was what she wanted our month-long essay to be about. Which is why,” you pull out some old essays you had done earlier in the year, “I referenced back to these animagus essay’s we had done. I mean, she wouldn’t introduce us to the topic and then drop it for no particular reason, right? I suspect she wanted us to piece the two and two together.”

Gojo gently took the papers from your outstretched hand, his eyes raking over your words, and then back to the textbooks. He seemed to read it intently as if things were slowly starting to click for him. 

“Which is why the textbook she gave us isn’t really helpful, because it resembles more of an herbology textbook rather than transfiguration. So I think that this textbook, if anything, should be referenced at the end of the essay, seeing how it mentions the mandrake leaf and the properties of the chrysalis of a Death’s-head Hawk Moth. It’s all instructions on how to become an animagus without saying it.”

His eyes, a different shade of blue in the candlelight, watched your every moment. He listened carefully as you eventually did end up rambling, watching the way your face, on its own accord, twisted into a proud smile at your clever handiwork. 

You abruptly stop to catch a breath and glance up at him apologetically. 

“I’m sorry, I went too fast,” you shake your head, rubbing your temple in your hands, tired from staring at textbooks for as long as you’ve had. 

“No…it made sense,” Gojo murmurs suddenly, his lips pulled into a thin line as he quickly looks away from you, back down to his work which was now surely long after your in-depth analysis, twisting and turning that gold ring on his finger, the one he always wore, the symbol of his family crest as he looked through the books you had offered him. 

You stay silent, not knowing what to do, resting back in your seat, picking your nails. 

“Well, that’s all of it,” you rub your hands against your pants, your dry eyes blinking a couple of times, yearning for sleep.

“You could’ve said this during class,” he said, still reading, his attention preoccupied, as if this was a hindrance to him. 

You wet your lips, trying not to clench your hand in anger, frustration, and years of pent-up emotions, as you slowly nod, pulling the leather strap of your bag over your shoulders as you begin to stand up. 

“Right, sorry,” you apologize quietly, taken aback when he suddenly looks up at you, as if startled but you didn’t feel like spending any more in the presence of someone who despised you anyways, “goodnight,” you bid farewell, not noticing how he had opened his mouth to say something, scurrying out of the library as you make your way back to the common rooms before he could.

—

The next day at transfigurations, the two of you didn’t speak to one another at the beginning of class, like normal. 

You took out your books like normal, as did he, and began writing silently, like normal. Everything was going normally until he suddenly paused, his hand wavering above his essay as he set his quill down, turning his head over to you.

“Can I see what you’ve written?” 

You stop writing, eyes darting to the side as if you had misheard him.

Gojo points to the papers you’ve been working on as if you didn’t understand his first command. 

Wordlessly, you pass it over to him. 

He reads it over a couple of times, flipping through your endless pages, muttering some words to himself now and then. You would wager that compared to other people you had made far more progress in terms of how much you’d compiled, so you weren’t necessarily worried about the time restraint on this essay. 

You couldn’t say the same for him, however. 

You’ve never seen him look so intense, his brows furrowed and his lips pursed in clear concentration. He almost seemed frustrated, and it was a strange thing to see from somebody so usually put together. 

“Our work together is too divided, it looks like we haven’t been working with each other,” Gojo says as if that wasn’t purely what was the issue. 

You didn’t say anything, wanting to see what idea he’d propose.

“I need to finish the rest of these texts,” he jutted his chin to the textbooks you had given him last night, “We can work on the essay after classes are over, in the common room.” 

A part of you wanted to laugh at him as if he had just joked. 

But Gojo Satoru was not a joking sort of person. You rarely saw him smiling, even when with his friends, and it was even rarer for him to say something of any comedic value. Which could only mean that he was being serious and that he truly was proposing to work in the common rooms with…you.

A little snort escapes your lips, looking at him as if he were crazy. He looked at you as if you were the crazy one.

“I don’t go to the common rooms after class, it’s too busy,” you explained slowly to him, wondering if he was daft and even after all this time didn’t take the time to understand your situation. 

He blinked, eyes narrowing. 

“...and?” 

Your head tilted to the side, confused. 

“Well…there’s people there,” you explain even further. 

He scoffs, rolling his eyes as if you were stupid. 

“Ironically, that is the point of a common room.” Gojo looks back to his essay, picking up his quill as if he were done with this conversation, but you pushed.

“Right,” you say more curtly, nose flaring, “For you, it might be. But people don’t want me there.” You say, a truth that you had to stomach, something that you grew used to after too many unsavory encounters with other Slytherins when you tried to come down to the common rooms during social hours. 

“So during the hours of two to eight, you don’t go to the common room?” He didn’t even look up, his voice sarcastic, not believing such an insane thing.

“No.” You reply as if it was obvious as if he should at least know that this is why you rarely ever make an occurrence unless it’s early in the morning or late at night. 

That finally gets him to stop and look at you, confusion woven into his expression. 

“What?” He set his pen down again, and you noted that his eyes seemed a different shade of blue when he was confused, a little bit lighter than usual, he seemed like he was the only one not in on some sort of joke, “So from two to eight you just stay in your room?” 

You shake your head, playing with your fingers. 

“I’m not always in my room,” ignominy clear in your tone, “Most days I either go outside and do my homework or go to the library.” 

You hate the attention this brings to you from him. You’ve never had such a long conversation with somebody in your own house, let alone Gojo. You hated the way he looked at you as if you were either lying your arse off or even worse…pity?

But you almost shook your head at that thought. The great Gojo Satoru pitying you? 

“What if it’s raining?” He asked, pushing you to see if you were telling him the truth. 

“Then I go to the library,” you said as if it was obvious, mainly because to you it was. This was the usual schedule that you’ve become used to over the years, something you’ve just forced yourself to become used to despite wanting everything in your soul to go to the common rooms like everybody else, to laugh at their stories, to talk about your lives, like you were supposed to. 

“What if the libraries closed?” 

You squirm under his heavy gaze, wondering how the topic of transfiguration got turned around to him interrogating you. 

“Um, well, right now, because of the weather, I’d probably just go up to the astronomy tower if the library was closed. They don’t have lessons during the day. Or I’d probably just find a broom closet and do my work in there.” 

His head tilts just a bit, his lips quirking up into a disbelieving smile as if he just caught you in your lie. 

“In the dark?” Gojo presses, and you can hear the people around you already beginning to pack up their supplies, the class nearing its end. Had you spent this much time talking that you wasted nearly half an hour?

“I’d cast a lumos spell,” you argue, packing up your things as you break eye contact with him. You take your paper back, making sure the ink has dried before putting it in your bag. 

“I’ll be in the library,” you say finally, making sure that was the end of it, “See you there.”

—

In some strange way, meeting up with Gojo in the library became part of your routine. 

Every night at seven, after his quidditch practice would end, he’d run all across the entirety of campus to work on your transfigurations essay together. 

The two of you still didn’t talk much, but it was different nonetheless. 

“I’m tired,” Gojo suddenly announced, the candlelight flickering on and off from his face. 

You could visibly see the dark circles that were under his eyes, how he slouched (which was uncommon for him, seeing how he usually sat as straight as a ruler wherever he was), and how he couldn’t go four minutes without letting out an exhausted sigh. 

“You should take a break,” you muttered, not paying attention, head still stuck in your book as you continued to read the rest of the paragraph you were reading. 

Gojo snorted, rolling his eyes at the prospect. 

“I can’t take a break,” he dragged his hands across his face, “I need to finish this essay, the quidditch games in two days, and Snapes up my arse about that potion exam.” 

Your eyes flickered up to his, startled at how much he had spoken, but then tried to mask your surprise by looking back down to your book.

“Potions wasn’t too bad,” you offer, “And I can finish the last bits you have,” you look back up, putting your hand out, a silent ask for him to give you whatever it was that he had written so far. 

He clicked his tongue against his teeth, silently passing over his stack of parchment, and you scanned through it quietly, shrugging as you nodded once more. 

To be honest, the two of you were far ahead of the other students in your class. He had eventually concluded on his own that you’d be wasting more time not working together, so you guessed that he just had to suck up a bit and bite back on his pride and work with a muggle-born.

His rush to finish the essay was spurred on by the plethora of other things he needed to do, a drawback of being the prime and perfect Slytherin prince everybody made him out to be. 

“You don’t have much left,” you deduce, “I can just write about the Scalivier trials,” the trial in which a man refused to register with the ministry that he was an animagus, “I’ll have it done by Saturday, I’m nearly done with my bit.”

You slide his essay back to him, but stop when you see the perplexed look on his face. 

“Saturday’s the quidditch game?”. 

Your eyes dart to the side, squinting a bit as you try for a laugh. 

“…and?” 

He scratches at his temple, tilting his head to the side. After these past couple of days working with you, he’d be wrong to say that he became more and more increasingly perplexed with you. Six years he spent watching from afar, muttering words to his friends about the absurdity of your existence, but now that he was able to see you from up close, a part of him has to agree that you’re an enigma he’s never been able to crack. 

You don’t say much during class, you don’t talk to many people, and if he was being honest, in that sense, you mirrored him. You were reserved, but the times he picked and prodded at you, you seemed to open up. You don’t have any friends from what he could tell, often eating at the end of the table during the meals. He watched sometimes to see you during the common rooms during the times in which you said you never came, a part of him thinking he’d be able to catch you. 

Gojo Satoru would never admit it, but in a way, he had become interested in you.

“Well,” Gojo didn’t like to be the one confused, hating being perceived as if he didn’t know everything, which is something he prided himself on most of the time, “After the game, there’s the usual…party,” he bit out, hating the word, because it was so unruly from the usual balls and galas he was forced attend, too many people sweaty and jumping, “In the common room.” 

You blink owlishly at him, fidgeting with your quill, twisting and turning it around in your hand. 

“Right…so I’ll be here.” 

Now it was his turn to blink slowly. 

Was this really that hard to understand?

“Coming to the library after a quidditch game seems a bit anticlimactic, don’t you think?” He leaned back in his chair, playing with the green and silver tie around his neck. You wondered how he could bear to wear it even after classes were over, that even his most posh friend ditched their formal wear the moment they got back to their dormitories. 

“Thankfully I don’t go to quidditch games, so for me, it’s just climatic,” you said, smiling at your little joke, covering your mouth as you yawned, tired and longing for your bed. 

He sat up in his chair suddenly, looking even more shocked than before. This was the most emotion you’ve ever seen him emmett before and you didn’t know what to do with it. 

“What? Why not?” He seemed so startled that you almost wanted to laugh. It was strange seeing somebody you had regarded as stoic look like he did now. 

You shrug, rubbing your fingers across your eyes as you let out another yawn, resting your chin on your palm. 

“I went once, during my first year, but everybody seemed rather annoyed that I was there, and they crowded in front of me so I couldn’t see anything,” you recall back on the memory, one that you could remember vividly, “and I don’t know,” you’re suddenly very thirsty, your cheeks heating up the more he stared at you, laughing uncomfortably, “I don’t really understand…quidditch, so it works out in the end. And I also get to have some time to myself in the common room to do my homework, you know, unlike usual.” 

Gojo didn’t say anything for a couple of seconds, and you tried to pretend that you had read something interesting to not embarrass yourself any further with your mindless babbling. Sure, he might be willing to work with you now, but that didn’t mean that Gojo Satoru was up for a friendly conversation with you.

You looked at him briefly, feeling your stomach churn a bit to see that he hadn’t stopped looking at you.

“Everything alright?” You asked. 

He nodded, biting on the inside of his cheek as he picked up his quill, a wordless agreement that the conversation was over.

—

Transfiguration the next day went by oddly silent. 

Gojo didn’t talk to himself now and then, he didn’t sigh his exasperated sigh, and he didn’t peek up every once in a while to check how much you’d written since the last time he had looked over. 

You didn’t pay it much attention, keeping your head down, your eyes to yourself. Silence was better than being reminded of your muggle heritage, which even then, Gojo had yet to remind you these past weeks.

Briefly, you looked up from what you were doing to see if Professor McGonagall was walking around or sitting at her desk, but in doing so you felt Gojo shuffle a little in his seat as if he had felt your sudden movement. 

“Tonight…” he started and you quickly nodded, waving off any of his worries. Of course, you chided yourself, he’s anxious about the quidditch match, nothing else.

“Yes, yes, I know, you have quidditch tomorrow. I’ll finish up what I have left and then start reading about the Scalivier trials tonight,” you finished for him, tracing some of the wood grains of the table with your finger. 

He shakes his head. 

“Not that - and I’ll finish up the trials by Sunday,” he’s avoiding eye contact, and if you didn’t know any better it seemed like he was trying to find his words, as if they had slipped from his tongue and were dangling in the air for him to grab, “Tonight…tonight, don’t go to the library.” 

You purse your lips, trying to smile to see if that was his goal, maybe he was trying to be funny.

“Would you like to meet in one of the broom closets then?”

You felt even more lost after it seemed like he was debating taking up your offer, but his eyes shone a bright shade of aquamarine, and his cheeks twinged a slight shade of pink. 

Strange. 

“No,” he chewed on his lip, as if he were anxious, a preposterous thing to even think, “No, come down to the common rooms around eight.” 

The cursed clock tower chimed, three loud rings, and it cut the two of you off once again. 

“Look, I told you-” you go to say but he cuts you off.

“I know, just come down.” He was being so cryptic, and he looked so on edge that it was starting to freak you out. He was already beginning to pack up, his eyes snapping to his group of friends that were nearing the two of you, and he quickly looked back down at you, his head dipping down urgently. 

“Eight. Be there.” 

—-

You couldn’t say you weren’t at least a little apprehensive. 

You were so nervous that you just stayed up in your room, not even coming downstairs for dinner as you waited for the clock on the wall to read eight. 

Why were you so nervous? You first asked yourself, but then asked the more logical question, what did Gojo want with you?

The minutes on the clock seemed to take hours to pass, and the hours seemed to take days. It was such a slow process, and you knew it would be going faster if you were doing something more productive with your time until it was necessary, but you couldn’t. 

The other girls in your dorms could come in and out, sometimes exchanging glances with their friends when they saw that you hadn’t moved from your spot, but they didn’t ask any questions, opting to just leave you be. 

You were picked at your fingers, cracking your knuckles, and finally, finally, the small hand pointed to the eight on that ancient clock. 

Funnily enough, even though you had been mentally waiting for this to happen, you waited for a couple of seconds, trying to calm yourself down, nodding to yourself that this wasn’t anything big and that you were just overreacting. 

Slowly, you rose from your spot on your bed, a little dent in the mattress from just how long you’d been sitting there. You turn the handle of the door, taking in yet another deep as you take a tentative step outside the safe sanctity of your room. 

The common rooms are usually more busy on Friday nights, and that might’ve been a blessing in disguise as you’re able to slip past most people, keeping your eyes peeled for a flash of white hair. 

You scan the couch area, the sitting area, and the large window that looks into the black lake, but you don’t see him. It’s only until you look near the entrance to the common room, the large oak double doors, do you see him. 

It seems like he’s scanning the area as well, blue eyes looking everywhere until they fall onto yours, and you’re able to sneak past some people watching as he cocks his head in the motion of the doors, and before you could do anything else, he leaves, and you take it as your sig to follow him.

You’re glad that nobody’s looking your way as you push the two doors open, looking to your right to see him waiting for you. 

You go to open your mouth to speak but he beats you to it. 

“Follow me, and be quick,” he’s already walking and you have to nearly jog to get to him, walking at a much faster pace seeing how his legs were abnormally long, “Put these on over your clothes.” 

Gojo throws you a pile of ratty-looking uniforms, but the more you open up the folded mess you come to realize that they’re old quidditch uniforms. In fact, when you’re finally able to get a good look at him you realize he’s wearing adoring green robes. 

You don’t say anything, multitasking as you walk and shrug over the (huge, it was practically dragging on the floor) robes, buttoning them up as quickly as you could without tripping over your feet, the quidditch uniform, or over the stones. 

He looks at you briefly, and he’s glad that you’re too busy trying to figure out how the robes are supposed to fit over you to notice the way his lips quirked up slightly at the look of you at the moment. 

“Put this on too,” he says once you're finally done, handing you another huge helmet, and you take it silently, pulling it over your head. 

The helmet is way too big for you, as it nearly hangs over your eyes, and you can barely see anything with it on, and you pause, a smile making its way onto your face as you push it up only for it to fall again.

You stop walking for a second, and when Gojo looks back he sees the helmet masking most of your face up until your nose, the only thing he can see is your large grin, the sleeves of the uniform enveloping your hands, reaching to your knees, and for the first time, he hears the softest sound, 

You’re giggling as you try to figure out how to tighten the straps on the helmet, not able to see where Gojo is because you have your head tilted down, struggling with the buckle until his boots come into your field of vision. 

All of a sudden you feel a hand tip your helmet upwards, and your smile falters when you now see his face, the way his eyes are swirling with different hues of blues, something you notice that happened when he was battling multiple emotions at once. You can tell that there’s a small, barely noticeable smile on his face, surely from how insane you look right now. 

You’ve never seen him look so at ease. His shoulders seem more relaxed, his jaw not clenched. It helped that he looked like he was smiling for once. 

But there’s no time to think as you feel the brush of him on your skin, his slender and swift fingers working fast and expertly at tightening the strap under your chin. He looks focused, his white brows scrunched up the way he always does when he’s trying to figure out a transfiguration rune. You feel your breath lodge in your throat. When he’s satisfied with how it was resting on your face his hands drop to his side, and his eyes slightly widen, as if he just realized what he had just done. 

He cleared his throat, looking around the hall to make sure that nobody was around, and he turned his back as he began his brisk pace out to wherever it was that he was taking you.

You walked, corrected, ran with him for a little more until he brought you to one of the openings of the castle, the one that led directly to the quidditch fields. 

“Where,” you were a little out of breath, noticing how the sun was nearly about to set, and also knowing that you sure as hell didn’t have a pass to be out this late, “Where’re we going?” 

“To the field,” he said, which was the answer you were most dreading. 

“Right, I can see that,” you feel hot under all these layers, despite the fact that it was late October and the weather was biting at best, “Why are we going out to the fields.” The breeze that was hitting your cheeks was stinging, so you were at least glad in that aspect that the quidditch robe offered you some sort of warmth. 

“Ravenclaws practicing right now,” Gojo said, turning around to look at you for a fleeting second, “I need to see what Nanami’s strategy is, and you need to learn quidditch.” 

You almost trip. 

And you need to learn quidditch.

His words were ringing in your head, possibly even louder than the blood rushing to your ears. He had to be lying, or have some sort of cruel prank planned out. He must be waiting for his friends to run out from behind one of the stands so that they could tie you to a tree. Not that he’s ever done that, but also not the first time it’d be happening at the hands of other Slytherins. 

Because sure, while you might’ve offended him in saying you didn’t understand how quidditch worked, that wouldn’t mean that he, Gojo Satoru, the Prince of Slytherin, hater of all muggle-borns alike, would be taking time out of his life to fix this wrong.

You should’ve just run the other way, ditched the scratchy uniform somewhere, and ran back to your dormitory, somewhere where you’d at least be safe from experiencing any sort of humiliation. 

But the closer that the two of you neared the stands, the more you felt confused. Because nowhere could you see any other Slytherins, and he was right, the Ravenclaw team was practicing right now, if the flashes of blue and white from above you meant anything. 

Which could only mean that…? 

Gojo finally stops at the stairs that lead you up the stands, his hand on the wooden railing. 

“We’re going…up?” 

He snorts, nodding as he ushers you to move. 

“Obviously,” his voice now seems more amplified with his small and cramped winding staircase, “I’m not going to be observing them from the ground.” 

You’re the one that’s ahead, so you try to go even faster so that he won’t be held up behind you, but everything is moving too fast. Did he give you these robes so that you’d seem like another player? So that you wouldn’t be marked up if you were seen out of your dormitory so late at night?

When you finally got to the opening, you were able to hear the yells that the Ravenclaw players were enhancing with one another. You hold the tarp that acted as the door above your head, heading over to one of the seats in the far back, feeling Gojo right on your tail. 

It had been years since you were here since you looked out into the fields. The stands were high, and the winds were stronger up here. Gojo sat where you were, to your right, and you waited silently to see what he was going to do. 

Nanami was the Ravenclaw seeker as well as the captain. You could see the flash of blonde hair as he flew by, the other team members either watching him or practicing with their respective posts. 

Gojo rested his elbow on his thighs, leaning in as he observed intently. 

Eventually, after a minute or two, he sat back up, leaning in closer to you. You could feel his hair ticking your temple, his nose inches away from your cheek as he began to talk. 

“In quidditch, you have seven players on each side. One seeker, one keeper, three chasers, and two beaters.” 

You nod, following along. 

“You see number seven?” He points to the guy flying around near the three tall hoops, and you nod again, “He’s a keeper. He makes sure that the other team doesn’t get any balls into the hoops.” Gojo is leaning even closer to you now, and you can feel half of his body pressing up against yours. You feel like you're heating up, and not because of the excessive quidditch uniform you’re wearing. 

“The beaters, number four and two,” he then points to the boy and the girl flying around, holding wooden bats, “try to protect their team from the bludgers; which is this black ball that sort of follows around team members, trying to knock them off their brooms. Those bats ward off the bludgers.” 

You make a mental note of everything he’s saying, trying not to be distracted by the fact that you’re being given a quidditch lesson from Gojo Satoru. 

“The chasers, which are the rest of them, aside from Nanami, throw around the quaffle to each other. Every time they get it through the other team's hoop, they score ten points…do you follow?” Gojo pauses, looking at you and you push your helmet up so that you can see him, giving him a confident nod. 

“All that’s left is the seeker-” 

“Which is you, right?” You cut him off, rubbing at your nose which was now freezing at this point. 

Gojo pauses, eyes flickering to you as he raises a brow. 

“I may not know quidditch but I’m not daft,” you tell him.

For a second there, you swear you could see the start of a smile play on his lips.

“Yeah,” he says, almost softly, “I’m the seeker.” You’re too busy looking ahead to notice that he’s busy looking at you, so you continue to talk. 

“...plus, Kento was telling me about it a while ago. He said you were really good.”

This time, his brow raised even further. 

“You know him?” 

You shrug, your eyes following the quick and hurried movements of all the players, too focused on their practice to notice the change in Gojo’s voice, or overall, the change in his entire demeanor. You must’ve missed how he slightly tensed up, or the way his eyes narrowed. 

“We had potions with Ravenclaw last year, remember?” You turn slightly to look over at Gojo before you go back to watching, “He helped me with some of my brews, but we talked about other stuff!” You had to raise your voice, the wind was getting stronger, “And Quidditch came up!”

Gojo’s nose flared momentarily before he swallowed thickly, his jaw ticking as he tried to focus back on the practice as well. 

“A-anyways,” he cleared his throat, not remembering that last time he choked on his words, “The seeker catches the snitch. I can’t see where it is now, but once the snitch is caught, the game is over.” He tried to push some of the hair out of his face, getting annoyed at how it kept getting stuck in his eyes. 

“I need to get something, I’ll be back,” Gojo murmured in your ear, pushing himself off of the seat as he walked in front of you disappearing down the stairs within seconds. 

You glanced at where he left but found yourself looking back to the players, your face breaking into another excited smile when you began to piece together what Gojo had just told you, finally able to understand quidditch after all these years.

The sun had set and the stars were peeking out through the sky, and you watched the players as they furiously rode around, each one tense and stressed for the match that would be happening tomorrow. 

You tried to hide yourself in the background as much as you could, now feeling a little more out in the open with Gojo gone.

The minutes ticked by and yet Gojo didn’t come back. Now and then you found yourself looking at the stairs, eyes darting back and forth from those on their broomsticks to where you had first entered from. 

Slowly yet surely, you found yourself in that position the first night you saw him at that library. 

When the Ravenclaw players slowly began dissenting from the air, running off the fields as they went in from shelter from the old, you felt a part of your stomach twist. 

This was all part of his plan, you concluded, shivering to yourself as you tried not to feel let down, or even worse, like an idiot for thinking anything had changed, that you had maybe actually begun to have a friend after seven years.

You feel your eyes water, either from the wind or from everything, and you make your way for the stairs, your lips trembling as you suddenly start to feel claustrophobic under all the clothes you're wearing, your fingers slipping and sliding as you try to take that wretched helmet off of your head.

You feel like if you go any faster you’re going to trip and tumble down the stairs, and it doesn't help that you’re already too distracted with trying to take the helmet off. You sniffle, your eyes blurry as you feel your heart beat rapidly in your chest. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

You couldn’t even tell if you were thinking that in your head or saying it out loud as you neared the end of the never-ending stairs, unbuttoning the buttons of the scratchy uniform as you bundled everything up in your hands, wiping at your wet cheeks with your palm.

Amongst all the things people have done to you over the years, this wasn’t the worst. You’ve had your room ransacked, your trunk thrown into the river, your shoes stolen on multiple occasions. You’ve been called a mudblood more times than you’ve been called your own name, and none of these things were actually done by Gojo. 

Perhaps you thought that deep down, maybe he could change. That maybe after all that time spent in the library, talking to you, controlling some of his laughs at your awful jokes, he saw that maybe muggle-borns weren’t as bad as he thought they were. 

And yet tonight you suffered your first prank, if that’s what this could even be called, at his hands. It didn’t hurt because of its nature, but because a naive part of you actually thought that he could’ve been your friend. 

But none of that mattered now, not that you-

“Where are you going?” 

You stop in your tracks, your head whipping around to the voice. 

It was now fully dark outside, the moon and the spare candles that were lit around the castle and the stands were the only sources of light. You could see his figure standing a couple feet away from you, his white hair like a beacon in the night. 

He takes a couple tentative steps closer to you, close enough so that you can see the furrow of his brows and the small pout on his lips. Damn it, you wanted to curse, you could hate him more if he didn’t look so pretty. 

“Back to the castle,” you snap, wiping at the corners of your eyes, throwing down the old uniform and the oversized helmet on the ground near his feet. You sniffle, looking to the side so that you won’t have to see his face.

“What?” He steps closer to you and you take a step back, your head still turned, eyes trained on the dewy grass, “Why?” You try not to think too much about the two sets of brooms in his hands, or how for some strange reason, he actually sounded dejected that you were leaving.

Letting out a shaky breath you laugh curtly, crossing your arms over your chest as you look up to the sky, counting the stars, wondering if that could calm you down. 

You hear the grass crunch under his feet, the warmth of his body as he comes in close to you. 

Why does he care? 

“I brought you a broom,” he holds it to you so you can see the outline of it, “Here,” he bends down to pick up the helmet you had thrown to the ground, “At least put this on,” he’s already securing it on your head, not noticing the way your lips were trembling, his fingers brushing up against your chin once again but you don’t him faster it, smacking his hand to the side as you rip the helmet off your head, throwing it with more force on the ground. 

“S-stop,” you murmur harshly, wiping at your cheeks, “Stop, stop whatever it is you’re doing-” 

“I’m not doing anything,” he snarls, his eyes a dark shade of navy blue, “So stop crying, I don’t know what it is you think I did.”

He’s angry now, good, it’ll be easier to yell at him if he’s just as amped up as you are. 

But when you finally look at him and get to see his face, it’s not the kind of anger you’re feeling. His eyes are narrowed, his eyebrows pulling together down the middle the way they do when he’s confused, the way you often see him looking like when he’s frustrated at your cursed transfigurations essay. He’s not angry at you because of you, he’s angry because he doesn't understand where your frustrations are coming from. 

He’s at least a head taller than you, looking down as his chest heaves slightly, waiting for you to say something, anything, so that he could explain himself for whatever it is he’s done wrong. His cheeks are a little pink, either from the cold or…something else, and his hair is messy, no longer kept the way it usually is. 

Gojo looks different.

And you don’t know who it was that moved in closer, whose rational mind slowly turned irrational as you two took another step towards the middle, but all you do know is that the two of you didn’t care as you roughly grabbed him by his robes, tugging him in as you slammed your lips to his. 

It happened in an instant, your lips moving against his soft one, your hands gripping onto that fabric for dear life. And for a second, you begin to pull away, your eyes opening in shock, but there’s no use, because Gojo slams his lips down onto yours as he pulls you into his chest. 

It’s rushed and messy, your teeth clash against one another, your hands going up from his chest as they intertwine around his neck, your fingers tugging on his long white strands and you hear him groan into your mouth. 

He moves fast, biting at your lips, one hand sprawled on the expanse of your back, the other one behind your neck, almost cradling the back of your head, tilting your head upwards to meet him. His tongue prods at your lips, and somehow, mindlessly, you part them a little more, moaning quietly at the way his tongue explores your mouth. 

Gojo leads you a little back, so that you’re up against one of the wooden pillars of the quidditch stands, offering you more stability, a good thing, seeing how you feel like you're becoming lightheaded, soon about to faint. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, heavy on your lips as he dips down again to kiss down your chin tilting your head up to expose the column of your neck, “Fuck,” he says once more, diving down as he sucks and bites at your skin, his movements growing faster and more erratic once he hears the soft and sweet mewls that escape your swollen lips. 

“G-gojo,” you whine, feeling hot as his hands travel across your chest, cupping your tits through your thin sweater as he continues to kiss down your neck, tugging some of the material down so that he could leave even more marks across your collarbone, “G-god, oh my god,” 

His pants tighten at your voice, his pupils dilate at the way you're pawing at him, pulling at him, needing him. 

“Satoru,” he says against your skin, “Not Gojo. Not you.” 

He’s delirious, he kisses you like you’re the air he’s been missing his entire life, and holds you to him as if you’re the only furnace in a land barren with snow. He needs you. 

Your fingers are lost in his hair, pulling and tugging, hearing the way his breathing stutters when you do so. 

One of your hands drops down to his chest, feeling at the skin that’s exposed from where his uniform was pulling up, and when your cold fingers make contact with the skin resting taunt on his stomach you swear you could hear him almost whine, his head momentarily dropping into the crook of your neck as he urges you to continue, holding your wrist tightly, pushing it up further. 

Your eyes find his, your breathing coming out in short spurts, and he seems so far gone, so transfixed with how you look under him, that the two of you fail to hear the footsteps that come near where the two of you were.

“Who’s there?” 

A voice calls out, and you see somebody behind him standing with a lantern. 

You push Gojo off of you, but he stays put, looking over his shoulder, shielding your body with his. 

“Oh, fuck off Taylor,” Gojo calls out, anger and irritation laced into his voice.

The boy's eyes widen when he realizes how it is, the blue and white Ravenclaw robes dashing away into the distance, the lantern long gone in a matter of seconds, but it’s no use. 

When Gojo looks down at you, you’ve been given too much time to come back to your senses. 

You push him away from you, and this time he moves.

You take a deep breath, not looking at him as you wipe at your spit-soaked lips, blinking rapidly as you try to make sense of what happened. 

He didn't say anything, but you could hear the quiet pants that escaped his lips, trying to catch some air. 

You open your mouth to say something but close it promptly, shaking your head in disbelief. 

You don’t think twice as you make your way back to the castle.

---

(part two)

taglist (CLOSED): @satorusemepls, @mokonasenpaiposts, @kao-ri, @rinxgojo, @notsochillnerd, @astral-hydromancy, @holylonelyponyeatingmacaron, @tedbunny333, @13-09-01, @mynameislove1, @hyunsuks-beanie

[gladiatorcunt]

🎾 - #LOVE ON THE FLOOR !!

cw: unrealistic public sex on a tennis court 💀 (it’s nighttime and no one else is there), college era, afab reader, gross friends to lovers, strip tennis, soft dom!art x inexperienced!reader, vaginal fingering + titfucking + brief analingus (afab reader receiving), implied (soft) obsession & toxicity like art would marry you tomorrow, teasing (towards reader), nipple sucking (m receiving), art putting in overtime to hit on oblivious!reader, reader is so comically unaware pls just roll with it and suspend your disbelief, mandatory Patrick™️ mention, 3.5k of pure need, art’s so horny in this like 😔 (+subtle implications of him either being a manwhore or a porn addict, as a little treat), lowkey canon typical mind games, unedited

this was requested by a bot looking blog that i had to block but the idea still slapped! combined with an ask for inexperienced reader

Art Donaldson sees your instagram story that’s only a repost of a Ethel Cain song and tries not to click his heels together. It’s not like he’s happy you’re clearly going through something, but if the story is a result of what he thinks it’s a result of… then he’ll comfort you through it however he can. With his words, his tongue, babying you in the bath and washing your hair, etc. Just getting to be intimate with you at all is an opportunity he’d never turn down.

Suddenly you’re bursting into Art’s dorm like a bat out of hell, tears dotting your waterline and lower lip wobbling. His heart lurches and leaps in equal measures, his backwards cap feels like it constricts around his head as he resists the urge to fidget with it.

“He… he didn’t show up!”

Art shoots up and gets off his bed, rushing to you and rubbing his hands up and down your arms, “What are you talking about?”

He gives you a lingering hug and passes you some of your favorite fast food that he always keeps in the little fridge in his dorm. Somehow knowing that it’d be just what the doctor ordered, you’re so lucky to have such a caring friend. You two haven’t left each other’s side since you bumped him on the first day of class, bringing a clice to life by spilling your coffee all over his polo. Sometimes you still lie awake at night and cringe at yourself, trying to assure yourself that he’s stuck around your awkward ass for a reason.

You’re hiccuping through your story while munching on your chicken sandwich, “Mark acted so exicted yesterday, and now he’s stood me up. I waited in front of the café for an hour, people were staring…”

Art eyes you from his position on the bed, crowding against you due to the size and having half of his torso glued to your back. He doesn’t giggle at the adorable way you get frustrated when the pickle in your sandwich always slides out in between your teeth during a bite, but he thought about it! He reaches up and brushes his fingers against your hair, wanting to just touch it more than move it.

“I don’t know what to tell you, he’s an idiot and you’ll move on. It’s not like he’s the only person in the world.” He grumbles, not quite pouting as he hooks his chin on your shoulder.

“Okay now you’re just grumpy because I beat you at uno.” You tease, gesturing to the scattered pile of brightly colored cards on the bed.

He’s definitely made you feel better though, he always does. You both finish your food and Art stands up from the bed to grab his tennis bag. He pulls you up too and winks, saying that you can’t beat him at everything. You ask what he’s doing and he only grins, telling you to come with him. You nervously glance around as you’re pulled to race through the halls to the court. There’s a simmering feeling weaving in and out of your tightly intertwined fingers.

divider

Art lets go of your hand to drop his bag on the ground, leaving your palm feeling strangely cold without his warmth.

You’re still not sure you should even be out here, you know that you’re definitely not allowed but Art seems to sense your hesitation because he rushes towards you and cups your hands in his.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re not gonna get in trouble or anything, y’know that?” He chuckles, gently knocking the tip of his nose against yours. “Look up for me, the moon’s really pretty tonight.”

You follow his lead and tilt your head back to gaze up at the goregous crescent moon high in the oil colored sky. You don’t notice that he’s looking at you instead, that he doesn’t say that the moon reminds him of you but he feels like the one orbiting around you instead of the other way around. Luckily there’s not a cloud in sight, just a floating city of stars with a glowing center. Art lightly pulls on your wrists, clearly wanting your attention back on him, so you comply.

You’re not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but you don’t miss the odd glint in his eyes as he narrows them slightly.

His eyelids crinkle as he smiles charmingly, “Don’t you trust me?”

You answer with your heart, “Yes, of course I do.”

He beams at you and explains the rule of the game he dragged you all the way out here to play. It’s just like a regular game of tennis so you really shouldn’t sweat it, he says. His expression shifts when he makes a show out of being unable to look you in the eye when he tells you the special rules, knowing full well you can see him try to tamper down a self satisfied laugh. Whoever scores gets to pick whatever piece of clothing the other takes off, and the loser of the game has to get completely naked if they aren’t already.

Your cheeks warm and you gawk at him, “Isn’t it weird that you’ll see me… like that?”

“So you already know you’re gonna lose, huh? And it’s not like i haven’t seen most of it before.” Art laughs, not bothering to hide the blush on his face. “You’ve seen all of me, anyway.”

It’s true, you usually laze around in nothing but your underwear and that’s been the norm for you two. Art’s no different, he’ll change in front of you and will literally walk around butt naked around your dorm. More often than not, he’ll answer the door in only a towel around his waist and sitting on his hip bones, no matter if it’s one of your other friends or a project partner. You're constantly having to text the other because you forgot that you left your toothbrush behind. You’ve never had a chance to be embarrassed by it. It’s been like that for the longest time and anytime you’ll tell Art that your friends keep asking if he’s your boyfriend, he’ll just reassure you that you guys are just really close. And isn’t that a good thing?

“Besides, I think this’ll help get you out of your shell.”

You’re embarrassed at the reminder of how inexperienced you are. Sure, you shouldn’t have a whole thing about it or whatever, but it just is kind of alienating from other people your age to not be able to say you’ve done what they’ve done. And you would’ve been able to have some stories of your own if you could manage to hold down a date. But tonight isn’t supposed to be about you wallowing, you’re supposed to be having fun. Even if the sight of your best friend in tight fitting sporty clothes makes your pussy throb.

divider

You giggle nervously when he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you, swaying you from side to side before moving his grip up to your arms.

“Relax, i’m just checking your form. Being close to you is just a bonus.” He winks and presses his stomach up against your back.

It’s so cheesy, the situation and the pose. But you lean into his touch and pretend to care about how he’s showing you the right way to hold a racket and all that, he doesn’t even really care if he’s being honest. It’s romantic though, and he can’t resist the opportunity to get a taste of what it’d be like to pin your body down with his weight. He guides you through a few “practice” swings and then throws a two finger salute at you as he jogs around the net to his side of the court.

It’s your serve, and despite you being very much a beginner, you get the first point.

Art stands there expectantly, cocking his head to the side and bouncing on his heels in anticipation. You honestly didn’t consider that you’d actually be telling your best friend to take off his clothes for you, but you’re new thing is taking shit in stride, you guess.

“So, what’s it gonna be?” He shouts and hovers his fingers around the collar of his polo, ready for you to say the word.

You take the coward’s way out, “Your shoes.”

Art frowns but obeys the rules, swiftly unlacing his sneakers and tossing them to the side. The court’s not so rough that it’d be hell on his feet, but he’d do it for you even if it was all a bunch of jagged rocks cobbled together. The game goes on with Art scoring the next point, and then the one after that. He has you discard your necklace, one of those cheesy half heart ones that matches with one he has, and your shoes as well. He doesn’t wanna scare you off, but he knows what he wants to have you take off for him.

You score the next time, down goes his pants. Without them, few things are left to the imagination. Every time he’d walk around you naked you’d always keep your face firmly glued to your phone or something. But being faced with the very… detailed outline of his bulge through his underwear, that’s another thing entirely. It looks so long against his thigh it might as well be a third leg. There’s already a little wet spot where the tip must be.

You must’ve been taking too long to ogle him, because Art yells at you to “Focus on the game, yeah?”

You’re lucky it’s not a cold night when he gets the next point and has you take off your pants, which are really just glorified shorts. You unfasten them and shimmy them down your legs, letting them pool around your ankles and kicking them away from you. You haven’t shaved today, but you know that Art doesn’t care about that sort of thing. He’s made sure to tell you as much many times when you complain about how much your back hurts after you get done with it.

Art takes his sweet time dragging his gaze down your legs, already imagining bringing them around his waist or over his shoulders. Your panties are so cute too, cupping your pussy so closely that he can see the shapes of your puffy lips from all the way on the other side of the court, a “camel toe” or whatever you call it. He thinks it’s so hot, but you’re shy about it, asking him to see how you look in jeans that are a size too small. He always does a thorough inspection.

Whoever scores next wins the game, and you’re too busy trying not to fall on your ass to put any effort into it. It’s not a real game away, and besides, it’s not like anything has to happen when the loser completely undresses. Out of the corner of your eye you see Art’s dick twitch in his briefs and you get so distracted that you freeze and miss the neon yellow-green ball hurtling past you. Art whoops and cheers as you process the fact that you lost.

“You know what that means.” Art grins from ear to ear. “Make a show out of it for me.”

divider

You don’t even mind the staring, it’s such a common thing that you’d be more pissed off if he wasn’t looking at you at all. The way his eyes devour every inch of bare skin and drop of sweat that you earned during the game. You pull your tank top up and over your head, leaving you in just your bra and panties. Your bra isn’t a frilly thing, you wear it mainly for support, but Art can’t seem to tear himself away from the view of your pushed up tits rising and falling as you breathe.

You…. don’t know what to do now, the big appeal of the game is over, you awkwardly laugh it off and bend over to pick up your clothes. Art shakes his head to snap himself out of his horny fever dream and races over to you, latching onto your wrist and stopping you from getting dressed again.

“You’re supposed to take it all off, remember?”

You drop your clothes, noticing that he still doesn’t let you go.

Heats fills your cheeks as he steps closer, delicately sliding his fingertips up the inside of your arm and around your back. He plays with the hook of your bra, gazing down at you with a look full to brim with unknown intent and purpose. He doesn’t do something as bold as unlatching it right out the gate, no, he just stares into your soul.

“I remember.” Your eyes drop down to his lips, and that’s when you know it’s over. “Can’t exactly do it myself if you’ve already got one foot in the door.”

You’ve gotta know when to fold ‘em, and all that.

Art softly smiles and loops his fingers under your bra strap. You have to remind yourself to breathe, but you don’t really get much of a chance to. Before you can stop yourself and think with your head, you’re canting up to press your lips to his. Art immediately kisses you back, chuckling into the kiss when you gasp as he expertly unhooks your bra with one hand.

In the blink of an eye, you’re flat on your back on the court, Art having hastily thrown his shirt under you while you were tangling your tongues together. He presses an array of wet open mouthed kisses down your body, paying extra special attention to the trimmed patch of hair at the top of your mound.

“Smells so good, ‘s cute, too. It figures you’d have the prettiest pussy I've ever seen.” He coos, dragging a lone finger down your slit before gently pushing it inside.

You gasp, wrenching your eyes shut tight at the intrusion. He takes good care of you, slowly sinking his finger in to the knuckle and sliding it in and out of you. He gradually adds more fingers as the minutes pass. Your walls throb around him, and if Art were a weaker man (like the guy you almost went out with) he would’ve said fuck it and plunged his dick into your cunt in one smooth stroke. But you deserve the best first time possible, and all the distractions he’s used have helped him be patient enough to refrain from humping you like a dog.

“You’re okay, you can take it. It’s nothing compared to what this pussy’s going to be taking later anyway, baby.” He hums and nuzzles his nose into where your inner thigh meets your mound.

As he’s languidly thrusting his fingers into your puffy pussy, Art strains his neck to lap at your ass. He holds one of your fat cheeks in his free hand and spreads you open, diving in to suck on the puckered hole between them. He sharpens his tongue and jabs it into your ass, his cock throbs when you let out the sweetest little squeals at the squelching and throaty noises he’s making. He can feel your hole unfurling with every slurp and suck, something that only makes him increase the speed of his long fingers in your pussy, maintaining a breathtaking steady rhythm.

Eventually his poor leaking cock can’t take anymore grinding into the ground, so Art crooks his fingers and (albeit a bit cruelly) jams them into your sweet spot. The velvet grip of your pussy strangles his digits like a dream, you’d take dick so beautifully. Your eyes fly open and your throat spasms around a mangled moan. He pulls his fingers out of your soaking wet pussy, smirking up at you as he sucks them try like a professionally trained whore. Your clit receives a loving kitten lick as an apology for neglecting it, and with that Art hovers over you at an even eye to eye level again.

“Holy shit…” You pant and flick his pebbled nipples, absentmindedly rolling them around with your thumb. “Are we really doing this?”

“Yeah, we are.” Art sighs, his head falls back as you duck down to suck his nipples into your mouth, the saliva you lathered them with dripping down your chin. He grabs the back of your head and pushes your face into his chest, arching his back.

“Relax, I bribed security and told them to fuck off for the night.”

That doesn’t concern you as much as it should, you’re too transfixed on Art wrenching your mouth off of his pecs and moving to straddle your chest.

“Can you push them together for me?” He breathes hard and grinds his weeping cock against your tits, mesmerized by how his precum makes your skin glisten.

“Oh, fuck.” He groans when you do, making quick use out of the delicious new friction the little pocket provides. “Thanks, honey.”

You keep staring at the tip of his dick, loving the little peek you get of it as he fucks your tits and it pokes your chin. You don’t even realize you’re doing it but you let your mouth hang open, angling your head down so his cockhead pecks your tongue at the end of every thrust. You make sure to lick every drop of pre cum away as it oozes out of him, looking so nice against the flushed pink skin of his tip. Art groans when he finally summons the strength to watch you do it, the sight hurtling him over the edge before he has the time or vocal ability to warn you.

His thick load jets out to land all over your tits, half of it on the lower half of your face. You’re almost sad it didn’t get high enough to clump your lashes together, it would’ve made for the perfect contact picture. Oh well, maybe next time. It’s amazing, the switch you’ve made from the shy friend to the writhing slut underneath him. You blame it on the honest to God sweet taste of his milky white cum, surprisingly making you think of the pineapples he always snatches from your plate when you eat at school together.

(Another painstaking effort made just for you, love)

It’s a miracle you get back to his dorm, some of your clothes are swapped and put on incorrectly and you both didn’t clean up at all. As soon as you reach the door, Art practically shoves you inside and onto the bed. He gets so frustrated with having to get your clothes off again that he just rips them right off of you, promising to take you to the mall tomorrow (or whenever he lets you leave the bed) to buy replacements. You literally couldn't care less if he shackles you to the wall, you need him to rearrange your guts so badly, you’d kill for it. Should you be having deep conversations about your feelings and what the future will look like? Absolutely, but your clit is clouding your sense of rationality and you don’t mind that right now.

“Do you even know how much i’ve wanted this? To fuck you so hard that we end up attached at the hip?” He bites, breaking away from your lips to suck bruises down the column of your throat. “We can have a baby- please have my baby, fuck!”

There’s something so weirdly romantic about the leftover scent of the court combined with the twinkling stars outside. Art’s moans and hands scrambling to pin you down so all you have to do is take it, you’re doing things all out of order, but this was always going to happen sooner or later. Art is a clumsy manipulator but he’s so handsome… you find yourself agreeing to every frantic declaration flying out of his mouth as he spears his long cock into your sopping wet pussy. You claw red lines into his shoulders and back, and Art nearly creams on the spot. The sting and the fact that you’re so out of it, you’re marking him up, are crossing the wires in his brain. His taut thighs burn with the effort of fucking you so far into the mattress.

You’ll get to cum four more times than he does, and by the end of it you’ll wish you never came at all. Your soul’s goikg to be so far away from your ruined mess of limbs that you won’t notice the sacred promises being muttered into your sweaty hair or pay attention to your phone being out on Do Not Disturb. You’ll be right where you should be, inevitably molded around the shape of his dick and branded by all the love bites that litter your body. You’ll think you passed out during most of them, but you’ll give him a loopy smile, hook your pinky around his, and let yourself melt away.

It feels as if your walls are still clenching around a dick that’s no longer buried to the hilt in them.

“I love you”’s are for early mornings with coffee and pancakes. Gloating to Patrick will be for hours before then, Art blocking him when you’re deep asleep and unable to mend the growing rift between them.

[itsagoodluckkiss]

Hi, I wanted to make a request about Luffy x female reader. The reader is feminine but clumsy, emotionally-reserved, unexperienced and kind-hearted. Smart and funny, with a soft spot for Luffy. . As for the plot, "she fell first, but he fell harder", slice of life with a little angst would be perfect. I'm desperate for fanfiction about first experience in everything kinda stuff. I'm not a minor, so it would be very good to see some sensual and awkward smut. I would be glad to read anything you'll write about Luffy x female!reader and I hope that you liked my request (^o^)/ sorry for bad english

It's Okay ~ Luffy x F!Reader

First of all, thank you for being my first request, you made me really happy and I'm really sorry for the really long wait, we had a really rough couple of months. Also, it's the first smut I've ever written so read this with patience. English is not my first language either and I'm sorry for any mistakes. Anyways, I had fun writing this, I hope you'll like it, lots of love!

Words: +3k

Warnings: hurt/comfort, op spoilers, ptsd, mentions of character death, comfort sex, smut with plot, oral (f!receiving), virginity loss (both), unprotected sex, cockwarming, fluffy ending kinda?, no use of Y/N

MDNI

Quiet days on The Thousand Sunny were as rare as mythical zoans. Not only because of dangerous encounters but also because of how calm the whole crew was today. Even your walking ray of sunshine captain was not as wild as usual. But you couldn’t really complain as you could focus on your task in silence.

The tailor of the crew, responsible of sewing, stitching and mending every piece of fabric on the ship. And that included the sails. Strong winds the night before managed a large tear and the next island was a couple of days away. So you had a job to do. Standing on a rope ladder, you effortlessly worked through the sails with elegance. Every piece of fabric in your home deserved care, as you’d always say when you mended the torn up clothes of your crew mates.

You were proud you could provide your family with loved and cared clothes and everything else they needed, top priority along with the dream of becoming the best tailor the seas had ever seen. Your mind wandered away to the smile of your captain every time you placed the fixed straw hat you came to love so much on his head, while you automatically repaired the sail. But your gracefulness started and ended at the needle in your hand.

Looking away into the sea for one second resulted in you prickling your finger. The sudden feeling caused you to lose your step and balance and you yelped as you fell from the ladder, expecting a hard fall and a trip to Chopper’s infirmary. But the land never came, arms wrapping around your frame, drawing you to somebody’s embrace. In fear, you wrapped yourself around your savior’s waist like a koala, your flower patterned dress coming up slightly. Your face went to the crook of his neck for one second, immediately recognizing who it was, and you raised your head to look at him in embarrassment.

“Hi there!”

“Luffy, thank you, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s alright. Was on my way to check if you needed help. Guess I was right.” he said laughing.

You smiled and hugged him tightly as he put you down on the deck. You were embarrassed, part of it because of your own clumsiness, another part because of the way Luffy’s hands lingered on your waist before letting you go.

“Are you almost done? Picked up a new card game from the last island and I want to play with you.”

“Oh, ah, I, I still have some, some work to do...?”

You didn’t. You also didn’t know why you said that. You said a lot of stupid stuff lately. You loved spending time with your captain, especially when you knew there wouldn’t be a crazy fight following you in a few hours. Falling in love with his brown eyes, his goofy and brave personality and his loyalty to his friends was the reason you said yes to joining the Straw Hats after you helped them save Robin in Ennies Lobby.

But ever since you returned to Sabaody, it’s gotten harder to contain the feelings for your first love. The other night while you two were keeping watch and talking about things you loved, an “I love you” escaped your lips without thinking, proceeding to an inept attempt to cover it by saying how you loved he is such a loyal friend. You felt the blush rushing to your cheeks as you looked again on his face and noticed something you were seeing more and more these days. His trademark smile was reduced to a small upward line and in his eyes there was a gleam of sadness. You couldn’t have that.

“It’s fine, I’ll see you around later I guess-”

“On another note, I can always finish it later. Let’s go play, Captain!”

And you grabbed his arm, running like a child playing chase across the deck toward Nami’s tangerine trees, laughing as you tripped on your two left feet, Luffy holding you upwards and laughing in the process, always there to catch you.

~

The ship was in motion, light rain falling from the night sky as Luffy found himself walking aimlessly on the empty deck. His black hair tousled, his straw hat dangling from the string around his neck, his posture slumped, trying to find some sort of relief in the breeze that hit his face. His trembling hands grip the railing, his gaze lost towards the vast ocean, unable to back focus on anything but his most recent nightmare. Memories of Ace's death spreading, like poison in his veins, once again. He tried to steady his breathing but failed as hot tears run down his cheeks, silent sobs leaving his body, trying not to wake up his crew. He hadn’t talked to anyone about Marineford. There was no reason for his friends to see him in that weakened state. He could tell that everyone felt guilty because they weren’t there for him, he didn’t want to feed that ugly feeling inside them.

You felt restless, worry prickling your skin like a hundred needles at once. Sleep wouldn’t do you a favor so you hoped off bed to get some fresh air on the deck and some moments of peace to think. Luffy’s sad eyes lingered in your thoughts. You couldn’t help but think about how much he had changed since you first met. You remembered the scrawny, eager, brave boy he was. Now his hair was longer and spikier, and he looked stronger than ever before, he was almost a man. Despite his carefree looks, a lot had changed about him. Yes, he was still as eager and resilient and determinated as ever, yet more mature, as much as maturity applied to him. And that big scar across his chest was the only testament of the fight he gave alone two years ago, as he hadn't talked to any of you about it. Not that he had to. You all knew you would wholeheartedly give him the support in any form he’d need. You’d do what you knew best. Take care of the people you loved. And from the moment you joined the crew, you knew your heart belonged to the straw hat captain.

You spotted Luffy in the front of the ship. It was unusual for him to be up and alone this late at night. Your eyes filled with concern, you walked closer to him as you noticed the trembling in his form, worry rising in your chest. Your hand caressing his shoulder slightly, you didn’t want to scare him or make him feel worse.

"Luffy?" you asked softly, voice barely audible over the wind.

Luffy wiped his tear streaked face quickly and tried to control his heavy breathing, wanting to be like his usual self, even if he knew it was too late for acting.

“I…”

He took a deep breath trying to hold it all in. He was the one that was supposed to help people through their crying and problems, to protect them. He couldn’t protect his friends in Sabaody, he couldn’t save his brother. He swore he’d never let anything like those things happen again. He didn’t want to be seen as weak. Not again. Not in front of his crew. Not in front of you.

“It’s okay, Luffy.”

His eyes met yours, a warm and safe gaze, always inviting and full of love, ready to be a place of comfort and joy to anyone that needed it. You wrapped your arms around his shoulder and back, taking him in a comforting embrace. His arms went immediately around you, his face buried in the crook of your neck as silent sobs left him once again. He hugged you tightly, hyperventilating as he let every last feeling of grief and pain out. You felt your eyes well too, the pain your favorite person carried alone enough to make you want to scream.

“It’s okay… you’re okay… it wasn’t your fault…”

“I couldn’t… I thought you… were all dead… and… I was right there… I couldn’t save him… he left… in my arms… it should have been me!”

Your heart ached listening to Luffy's sobs, tears running down your face as well. You pulled back slightly, cupping his face in your hands, and looked into his red, puffy eyes.

“Listen to me! Don’t say that again, ever! We all know you’d never let us down. You did everything you could, Luffy, you always do, and it’s enough for us." You said, voice shaking, carrying all the sincerity in the world. "And you always were there for him. You gave everything you had! He loved you so much and you saved him because you showed him how loved and cherished he was! You're still doing everything you can to keep his memory alive. That's what he would want! Don’t do this to yourself, please.”

You wiped the tears off his face and squeezed his cheeks like you usually did when you shared food and laughs together, managing to drag out a small smile from the boy.

“How about we go grab some tea and biscuits from the kitchen before Sanji comes down from his watch and go to my room?” you suggested, knowing Luffy would never say no to food.

“It’s on!”

Stealth wasn’t your strongest suit as you somehow always managed to hit on something. And with Luffy beside you, havoc was almost always certain. Getting out of the kitchen as fast as you could, before Sanji’s yells could reach you, you run into the ship, down to your handicraft’s room. The warmth of the cabin enveloped Luffy, feeling a little more like his usual self now, as he took in the room. That’s were all your great works laid, with needles, threads and sewing machines all over the place. From clothes and blankets to large embroideries hanging from the walls. You laid a soft, fluffy blanket on the ground to sit on. You sipped your scolding tea as Luffy munched on a cookie, taking in your works.

“I don’t know how you can make beautiful things like these.”

“I’ve practiced it a lot. And I love it. I’m glad you like it, Captain.”

You smiled widely, gaining a toothy grin from him.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For always being here.”

You were thinking your next words for a moment before moving the cups and plate from the blanket, taking his shoulders gently as you both laid on the ground, your eyes looking at each other, taking his hand into yours.

“It's alright to not be fine, you know… I'll always be here for you, no matter what.”

“It’s… I’m not thinking about it most of the time… I just have nightmares… it’s hard sometimes.”

“And that’s completely logical, Luffy, you’ve been through hell! I collapsed when I heard the news and couldn’t be with you. I would have run to you if I could. I love you so much and I’m sorry I wasn’t there and…”

You were the one tearing up now, cheeks red from embarrassment as the words slipped through your mouth without thinking. You knew Luffy would be shattered when you heard about Ace. The only thing you wanted was to hug him until you pulled all his pieces back together. He met your gaze. Luffy was never interested in romance. He didn’t thought he needed it. Until he met you and for the first time, he wanted someone to join his crew not only because he wanted them as a friend and they’d be a great addition, but because he felt something different, something he couldn’t quite understand. The only thing he knew was that he loved you a little differently than the rest of his friends. It was his turn to brush the tears off your face now and you melted from his touch. You tried to speak but before you could, his hand, warm and slightly trembling, cup your cheek. His lips pressed into yours, just for a moment, before drawing back only inches from your face.

“I think I love you too.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, heart pounding against your ribs. Never had you thought you’d hear those words from Luffy. Of course, you knew he loved everyone in the crew, but this felt different. You felt like you would burst into flames as you blushed even more.

“You, you do?!”

“Yeah… you’re sweet and strong… always by my side… you’re very important to me…”

You let out a gasp of surprise as you hugged him tightly and crushed your lips into his clumsily, both of you laughing at your enthusiasm. Small, sweet kisses evolved into longer, more passionately ones and soon you were underneath him, his hands caressing your thigh beneath your dress, your hands slowly pushing his vest off of him.

“Are you okay?”

“I am, you?”

“Me too.”

Soon, your clothes landed somewhere else in the room as you felt him caressing your skin everywhere and you gasped into the kiss, him taking advantage of your parted lips to push his tongue into your mouth, tangling it messily with yours. His lips travelled down your neck and lower, soon to be between your legs. A feeling of self-consciousness crept over you as you closed your legs and he smiled up at you as he caressed your thigh.

“Hey, it’s okay, we can stop if you want.”

“No, I want this, I’ve just… never do this before…”

“Neither do I. We’ll find it together. But I want you to be comfortable. You can stop me if you don’t feel okay.”

You smile down at him and relaxed a bit, allowing him to spread your legs and start kissing the inside of your thighs. It felt so good to share another experience with him, and his touch was gentler than you thought it would be. He positioned your thighs on his shoulders and before you could react, his mouth was on you, his tongue licking a stripe before latching onto your clit. Your head fell back immediately as a choked out moan slipped through your mouth, one hand flying to his hair, pulling on his locks gently as the other grasped the blanket beneath you. His eyes were on you, his look was magnetic and focused on the task of making you feel good. A finger circling your tight hole, it pushed inside you slowly as he sucked on your clit, making you whimper from the pleasurable feeling. The stretching inside you new and welcomed, a combination of his mouth and a second finger breaching in has your orgasm approaching faster than you expected. He curled his fingers upwards, hitting repeatedly a spot you had never reached before on your own and it pushed you over the edge unexpectedly. He smiles against you as small moans left your mouth, your whole body shaking, your head spinning.

Coming down from your high, he crawls back on top of you and kisses you passionately, your tongues intertwining. You can taste yourself through the kiss, and it makes you long for more. He breaks the kiss and smiles down at you.

“How was that?”

“Luffy, it was… amazing. How did you know-”

“Didn’t. Just did what felt right. Are you okay to continue?”

You nodded eagerly and he grinned at you, his lips back on yours again. Your hand sneaks between your bodies to grab his dick, gently pumping him up and down, bringing him close to your folds. He moans into the kiss and swats your hand away, gliding himself between your now soaked pussy, his tip touching your clit every time, sending small jolts of pleasure down your spine. He breaks the kiss, his face only inches apart from yours, staring into your eyes.

“You’re sure?”, he whispered.

“Yes captain, please…”

A shiver run through his body as he hears your plead, and he moves his tip against your entrance, pushing in. A small gasp escape you and a sharp hiss leaves his mouth as he slowly slides into you, his movements awkward but gentle, the feeling of your warmth around him making him slightly tremble as he bottoms out. It felt slightly uncomfortable for you at first but the pain you expected to feel was nowhere to be found. His lips were on your neck, nibbling and sucking gently while his arms roamed your body, trying to make you relax as he stayed still, waiting for you to adjust to him. A few moments passed and your hand cupped his chin, bringing his lips to yours in a sweet kiss.

“Feels better now?”

“Yes, Luffy… please, move…”

He smiled down at you and placed another soft kiss on your lips as he began to move, taking it slow and tender, setting a rhythm that made you gasp, the pleasure spreading over you. One of his hands on yours, intertwining your fingers as the other grabbed your thigh to keep you against him, his forehead on yours, eyes closed as you both relished the feeling of your bodies pressed together. His speed picked up slightly as he finds a steady rhythm and you moan his name, your legs wrapping around his waist to keep him close. He smiles widely and kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth, your fingers running through his hair, gently tugging at his dark locks.

One hand gripped your thigh rougher now, pushing it upwards, the shift in position allowing him to go deeper, the other sneaking between your bodies to rub at your clit. Your face buries in the crook of his neck, trying to choke down your moans, the knot in your stomach tightening as his thrusts grow faster and sloppier, you feel that he’s close too.

Your lips connect again in a messy kiss and your back arches as you come undone, crying out through the kiss, your nails dragging down his back. He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down your jaw and neck, his hands grab your hips to drag you to him as he fucks you through your high, his hips stuttering, feeling your walls squeezing him tight, pushing him over the edge with you.

You stay like this for a while, hands wrapped around each other, his face buried in the crook of your neck, savoring the moment. He places a tender kiss on your cheek and turns to face you, his head on your shoulder.

“How do you feel?”

“I feel… wonderful…” you say with a sigh as you smile up at him. His hand caressing you cheek, he placed another sweet kiss before stretching his hand to grab another blanket nearby, covering the both of you. He then lies flat on top of you again, his arms wrapping around you, and closes his eyes, still inside you.

“Luff, we…”

“Can’t move, I feel snuggly right now.”

You laugh softly as you hug him back, feeling his breath slow down as he slowly falls asleep, your eyelids getting heavy as well, a content smile playing on your lips.

“Goodnight dummy…”

[thetxtdevil]

Heyyyyy can u write something about reader getting caught by kai while using a vibrator. Like i imagined an escenario where reader is waiting for kai at the hotel room while kai is out with the boys in the US (since the relationship is a secret, reader cant be seen w them) and she misses him so much and she starts getting horny by some thoughts and starts playing with herself with the vibrator bc she thought kai was going to arrive much later. Poor little thing gets caught with her legs spread open, dripping wet and moaning so loudly by her beloved boyfriend 😙 (i live by soft dom kai so his reaction will be according to it lmao)

Please and thank u, love ur works hehe💗

--nsfw--

You wait in the lobby of the hotel Kai lead you to through text message. He said he would meet you there to give you a key but here you were sitting on a chair feeling awkward. Flipping through the provided magazines on the coffee table you hear loud conversations very distinct not only from the foreign language but the familiar tone of each member of your boyfriend's group. You smile to yourself standing up to look at the men to suddenly have your stomach start to flutter when you see your boyfriend Kai. It's been so long since you two have been in the same vicinity his presence hit you like a truck. You study his much broader shoulders and his arms were very muscular, his once dusty blue hair were now long dark locks which exaggerated his angelic features so well. Your heart rate pumps a faster when you see his chocolate eyes glance at you. You felt like a high school girl when you became shy as Kai walks towards you.

"Hey beautiful"

"You're the beautiful one."

Kai chuckles getting as bashful as you "lies."

You wanted to grab his chin to look at you but your resisted, "you know I don't lie" He smiles puffing out his chest in confidence, then Kai's eyes widen as if he remembered something, patting down his pocket he pulls out a small card. "Do you have a pen?" he asks and you quickly search for one in your purse. He starts writing something and hands you the card and pen back.

"This is my room key and I wrote down the level and number. I'm going out with the band but I should be back later."

"Oh okay, thanks." You were stunned to see him leave fast watching him go back to the group of men. You awkwardly smile and wave at Yeonjun and Taehyun who were staring at you in suspicion.

"Who's that" Yeonjun nods towards you.

"Oh... uh- a fan" Kai nervously messes up his hair hoping to hide his blush, "noticed her around so I thought I'd finally give her an autograph"

---

You took a deep breath as you bring the electronic key to the pad on the door handle. Making sure you have the right room number once more you swipe the card resulting in a small green light blinking. Opening the door you waddle in with your duffel bag. The room was like any other hotel room, clean, nice bed sheets, warm light, but there was a beautiful view of the city. Admiring the cars stopping and creeping forward, lights illuminating the area making the stars in the sky barely visible. You stop looking to get yourself comfortable in the room removing the extra layers you had on.

Falling onto the bed you let out a huff of boredom. You let your mind wander to your meeting with Kai from earlier, how handsome he is, how big he looked, how much you wanted to graze your fingers along his milky skin. Closing your eyes to imagine him above you, his light sweet kisses pressing into your lips asking about your day or simple "love yous", and his big hands grouping your breasts. As your thoughts go wild your own fingers explore yourself and a hand massage your tit. You flex your thighs together, back arching, your whole body shaking from arousal. You stop for a moment to remember that you brought a little toy for tonight.

Digging through your bag your hand touches a solid object. Picking it up knowing its your handy wand ready to be used. You study the curves of the vibrator remembering how much Kai love to tease you with it. When you both started dating Kai was a little inexperienced with little knowledge of selfcare so you took it upon yourself to show him the great pleasures of sex toys. Stripping away your clothes settling back on the bed you tease your nipples once more. Reaching for the vibrator clicking it on to fill the air with a light buzzing noise. Pressing the vibrations against your clit instantly shot pleasure through your body making it hard to not get needy. You tease yourself over and over again swiping the wand against your folds but never fully fucking yourself.

A small sound of metal of the door knob clicks but was quiet enough to not be noticed by you. However, your smalls gasps and breathy moans could easily been heard from your boyfriend who came through the door. He walks in quietly to see his beautiful girlfriend spread out before him. His cheeks burn a fiery red, big doe eyes shy away embarrassed that he caught you in such a position until he starts to hear your juices that sounded so delicious to him. All his attention came back to you especially when your moans became calls of his name.

He watches the curl of your toes, every spasm of your open legs leading down to your glistening folds moving around your vibrator. Kai's secret cover was compromised when a drawn out groan escaped from deep within him. Your teary eyes open to look around the room finding Kai standing perfectly in front of you, your legs framing his body.

"Kai, angel, I missed you so much a-and I couldn't wa-"

"canieatyouout"

You eyes widen at his abrupt request but then soften as you widen your legs as a sign of welcome. Kai gets on his knees getting a hold of your hips to push you towards him, towards his face so it was morphing into your pussy. You pant at his luscious muscle lapping up every part of you and his nose bumping into your clit so lovingly. Kai lifts his head to grin at your fucked out state then catches a glimpse of the forgotten wand. He grabs it and as his lips latch onto your clit he shoves the vibrator deep inside you receiving a shocked gasp.

You feel lightheaded by the deep penetration. Your vision begins to see stars with every suck and lick of your clit. Looking down at the sight of your boyfriend, Kai, his long dark hair hiding his face that was already hidden in your cunt, his broad shoulders keeping your legs far apart, one hand thrusting the wand in and out of you while the other explores your soft skin. God did you miss him...

A nuisance,

TxT's Devil

taglist: @inkigayocamman, @naoristerling, @incogrio

[xpao-bearx]

"Like A Virgin"

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader/Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader/Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Read Part 2 HERE

Read Part 3 HERE

Read Part 4 HERE

SUMMARY: Steven Grant has come to the devastating conclusion that he was fated to be single forever. Marc didn't care for romance, Jake was only interested in one-night stands, and Steven was--well...Steven.

But when you started working alongside him at the museum's gift shop--a pretty girl younger than him with a bright smile and a cloying kindness he hasn't been the recipient of in a long time--he begins to think that maybe romance is in the cards for him.

Especially when you are just as awkward as him and sinfully lovely.

AKA "the man without love" falls for "the virgin".

RATING: 18+ minors please do NOT interact!!! This fic will contain romance, smut, and generally mature content (though not ALL parts will have explicit smut).

NOTES: I recently rewatched Moon Knight and have been in the mood to write my own fic after reading countless of amazing ones on here, then outta the blue Madonna's song Like A Virgin got stuck in my head and it got me thinking "Huh... This song is cute for Steven if he gets a girlfriend. ACTUALLY WAIT A DAMN MINUTE IT COULD FIT ALL THE MOON KNIGHT BOYS"

And so... Tada! Here's le result~ Although I'm still working out the details, this fic will have ✨️6 PARTS✨️ This fic will PROBABLY be quite self-indulgent, and at times the way the reader is written could be a bit similar to an OC. I'm so sorry if that is the case, but please understand that I'm writing this for fun and I'm just going with the flow!

Some things will also be different from the show. For example, all the boys are actually aware of each other in this fic. I try to stick as close as possible to the source material, but hey this is my fic and like I said I just wanna have fun 😂

Thank you sooo much and I sincerely hope you enjoy!! Likes, comments, and reblogs are STRONGLY encouraged and appreciated so please don't be a silent reader!

Now... Join me as I hopelessly thirst over this RIDICULOUSLY gorgeous man both in fiction AND reality \(^o^)/

Part 1: Didn't know how lost I was until I found you

Steven willed his legs to go faster, pushing through London's usual busy morning crowd and into the museum he was cursed to work at. Clutching his bag in one hand, and the other holding his small thermos of coffee as he prayed to any Egyptian god listening that Donna wouldn't catch him this time.

But, of course, the only Egyptian god within Steven's vicinity was Khonshu. And the old bird only cared about how his Moon Knight was upholding his duties as his "Fist of Vengeance", not of his Avatar's petty human responsibilities such as "keeping a job".

"Late again, eh, Stevie?" Donna's annoying voice mocked Steven, pausing in his tracks as he sighed deeply and begrudgingly turned towards his boss.

"Sorry, Donna." He shot the blonde a forced smile, his grip on his thermos tightening. "Got stuck in traffic. You know how it is, yeah?"

"I wouldn't because unlike you, Stevie, I'm never late." Donna returned his fake smile along with a roll of her eyes. "Anyway, enough chatter. You've got someone working with you at the gift shop from now on. Maybe this way you won't be late, yeah? Teach her how to actually sell some bloody candy."

Steven opened his mouth to retort, but was quickly cut off when his new co-worker--you--stepped out from behind Donna. You were younger than him, around your twenties, and you were such a shy little thing with your head slightly ducked down. Your E/C eyes peeked out from behind the glasses framing your delicate features, long lashes fluttering as you flashed him a sweet smile. Your fingers fiddled nervously with the pink midi skirt you wore, matching the dainty pink ribbons that tied your H/C hair in two low pigtails.

Your smile faltered as your gaze met Steven's dark brown ones. He remained silent, mouth hanging agape as he stared at you as if you grew two heads. Your eyes lowered, heart threatening to burst right out of your poor chest.

Did you do something wrong? Maybe you should've ditched the ribbons, you looked ridiculous, right? Why was he staring at you? Oh, god, why was such a HOT guy staring at you?!

"Hello, uh, I'm Steven Grant." Your head snapped up, witnessing the twist of Steven's lips into a kind albeit awkward smile that accompanied a friendly little wave. "Steven..." He seemed to be rethinking his words before, ultimately, the dorky side of him won. "...with a V."

A smile once again bloomed across your face, feeling more at ease this time. "Hi, I'm Y/N L/N. With anxiety!" You chirped the latter a little too cheerfully, a light blush dusting your cheeks as you inwardly slapped yourself. No, punched yourself. "O-Oh, uh, I-I didn't mean that! I-I mean, no, it was just a joke--but a really BAD one, oh god--"

As you rambled nonsensically, Donna arched a judgmental brow at you before noticing the utterly smitten expression on Steven's face as he watched you with a huge goofy grin. Now both of Donna's eyebrows were raised to her hairline before she slowly backed away, leaving you two to fend for yourselves.

At least this time, though, Steven wouldn't be late anymore.

'She's so...'

'Weird.' Marc piped up in Steven's head.

'Amusing.' Jake snickered.

'...lovely.' Steven finished, eyes gleaming the same way it does for Egyptology as he continued to look at you as if you hung the moon in the sky.

He adored you instantly.

♡•••🌙•••♡

It's been two months since you started working at the museum's gift shop. During that time, you and Steven got closer. He discovered that you were a college dropout, reaching a stressful breaking point one day and deciding to just work for the meantime before figuring the rest of your life out. And as it turns out, you weren't so shy after all; once you were out your shell, you were just as big of a dork as Steven was and whenever you two were together, your shift passed by quickly--too quickly.

From the very first moment, you and Steven got along splendidly. He was a complete sweetheart and it always shattered your heart whenever Donna harassed him with any snarky and insensitive remarks.

Steven was used to it so he didn't mind it too much. What he wasn't used to, though, was you. You who was always so kind, lending a listening ear whenever he went on a passionate tangent regarding Egypt and even encouraging him on his dream of becoming the museum's tour guide. You who always graced him with a genuine smile that reached your ears, eyes sparkling whenever you see him as if he was your favourite art piece in the entire museum.

You who always made his heart race, palms sweaty, mind swirling without fail.

You had an intense crush on Steven--a longing, really--but what you didn't know was that he felt the same about you. But perhaps it was more than that. He practically worshipped the ground you walked on, and it certainly didn't miss Donna's unexpectedly sharp eyes. She'd tease him whenever you left earlier than him, looking like a kicked little puppy as his gaze trailed after you.

Today was no different as he stared helplessly at you, and it was a wonder you didn't feel the invisible daggers boring into you. There were only ten minutes left before you were done for the day and you both were stuck in inventory, but for once in his life he loved doing inventory and he desperately wished that this incredible moment with you, alone, would last forever.

'You're so fucking pathetic, ese.' Jake echoed in Steven's mind.

Nowadays Jake was becoming more vocal, at least when you're around. Marc, on the other hand, remained tight-lipped. The mercenary would much rather have absolutely nothing to do with you at all costs.

'Shut up, mate.' Steven silently argued, brows furrowing as his eyes finally broke away from you and focused on organizing some Taweret plushies.

'Only saying the truth, ese. You've got her all to yourself and the only thing you can think of is that you wish this time would last forever?' Jake scoffed. 'Be a man and step the fuck up. You know you want to, especially with the way she looks today.'

Steven's burning gaze was right back on you, eyes darkening slightly. He hated to admit it, but Jake was right. You were always so pretty, but something about today made you look that much more.

You always dressed modestly, but with the weather warming up lately you opted for a black pleated skirt that fell just above your knees and a tucked in short sleeved yellow blouse with the top few buttons undone exposing the tiniest bit of your cleavage. You also wore matching yellow heels that perfectly accentuated your legs and it made him feral.

"Steven? Are you okay?"

His eyes met yours and a smile instantly curled up his lips, nodding his head as if he wasn't just ogling you like a total perv. "Yes, I just zoned out. Sorry, love." Ugh, the way he called you 'love' so casually had you swooning.

If only he actually meant it.

You nodded back, shoving your thoughts away and returning his smile before glancing towards a portrait. "A shame what they did to this, huh?"

Steven curiously followed your line of sight, seeing a portrait of the Ennead.

"Whoever did this made a major blunder. Isn't the Ennead supposed to have nine gods, not seven?"

"YES!" You flinched slightly at Steven's exclamation, whipping your head towards him only to see him with the cutest blush ever.

"Erm, s-sorry, uh..." Steven cleared his throat, sheepishly running a hand through his unruly locks. "I just got excited. I'm surprised you knew that. Not a lot of people do--or care."

"Well, I happen to know a fantastic teacher always talking about Egyptology." You giggled, grinning at him. "And thanks to him, he's caused me to become interested in it myself and do my own research."

"Really?!" The way his eyes lit up felt as if an arrow was shot straight to your heart, and if you didn't have any self-control you would've dropped to your knees and asked--begged--this gorgeous man to marry you right then and there. "Any particular god or goddess that you're most interested in?"

"Hmm..." You pursed your lips thoughtfully, and Steven had half a mind to kiss them senseless. "I'd have to say Khonshu."

'GOOD ANSWER. KEEP HER, WORM.' Khonshu's thundering voice suddenly boomed in Steven's head.

"She's not a dog, you stupid pigeon." Steven grumbled, rubbing his temples exasperatedly.

"Hm? Did you say something?"

"Nothing!" Steven answered quickly, forcing out a laugh. "Err, why Khonshu?"

"Well, I really like Astronomy!" You beamed. "And I find the moon to be one of the most beautiful things in our universe, so it feels fitting for my favourite Egyptian god to be Khonshu."

Despite Steven's distaste (to put it nicely) for the old bird, he could never find your response as such. Not when you looked so happy and comfortable sharing your interests with him, even though he did disagree with just one thing you said.

The moon doesn't even come close to being one of the most beautiful things this universe boasts. No, not when you existed.

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP!

The alarm on your wristwatch cruelly popped the blissful little bubble you both were in, you turning it off as you saw that it was the end of your shift.

A regular person would be over the moon that they were finally free from their corporate prison, but not you. Not when you wished you could spend more time with Steven.

"Well..." Your voice was nothing more than a whisper, a pout forming on your lips. "Guess it's time for me to go home."

"It appears so..." Steven mumbled, his heart sinking to his stomach as he watched you put away the remaining items you were in charge of.

'It's now or never, Steven. Do something.' Jake urged.

'Do WHAT?'

'Fucking Christ, you're hopeless.' Jake sighed frustratedly, Steven's eyes rolling to the back of his head and his shoulders slumping. After a few seconds, he straightened up once more and approached you.

You were faced away from Steven, and you were having difficulty setting the final box of souvenirs you had on a shelf when Steven's hands reached from behind you and easily lifted them.

Your breath hitched, feeling his broad chest pressed against your back. He was so close you could feel his warm breath tickling the nape of your neck, making you gulp.

"T-Thank you, Steven..." You murmured meekly, feeling so small as he had you completely caged. You tried to turn, but his hands suddenly dropped to your hips; keeping you in place with a gentle but firm grip.

"You look so pretty today, Y/N." He leaned down, voice deliciously low as his lips ghosted just beneath your ear and a shiver ran down your spine. "But I think you can look even prettier. How 'bout tomorrow you dress all nice, and we can meet up around seven p.m. and have the best steak in town?"

Your thoughts were all jumbled up. Was this really happening or just another one of your silly fantasies? Where the hell did Steven get this sudden confidence from?

And, perhaps you were just imagining it, but he sounded...different. Not quite like the Steven you knew. He had an accent, but not the one you've gotten so familiar with and loved.

But the ache in your heart--and another part of you--was much too strong to bear. You've waited so long for this, dreamt of this, and it was finally coming true.

You definitely made the right decision to dress the way you did today and you sure as hell weren't going to let go of such a grand opportunity.

"I-I'd love to, but..." You placed your hands on top of his own still on your hips, and you wondered if he can tell just how embarrassingly sweaty your palms have gotten. "I...I know you're a vegan, Steven, so let's go somewhere else. There's a new restaurant that just opened and they've got vegan options. Um, y'know, if it's okay with you..."

The corners of his mouth tugged up into a smile and he couldn't stop himself as he nuzzled his face against the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply and revelling in your addicting scent.

"Perfect." He then spun you both around so that his back was against the shelf, but you still couldn't see him. His fingers slowly, teasingly trailed upwards along your stomach before reaching your blouse's breast pocket, slipping off your name tag and putting it in one of your hands. "I'll see you tomorrow, hermosa." He chuckled huskily, giving you a light push.

You were utterly dazed, cheeks flushed and stumbling in your steps slightly as you exited the room.

'What the bloody hell was THAT?!' Steven panicked.

"What do you think, ese?" Jake scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I just scored you a date."

'Well, I hope you're happy! Y/N looked so shocked!'

"I feel like a million dollars and Y/N looked like she liked it." Jake snickered. "Quit whining like a bitch and just be grateful, Steven. And hey, she even chose some hippie vegan place for you. Doesn't that prove she's into you?"

That immediately shushed Steven, and Jake can feel that despite Steven's complaining Steven was very much overjoyed and was already overthinking the date for tomorrow.

Jake looked down his hands, still remembering the soft curve of your hips even through your clothes and smirked.

You won't be wearing any for long now.

[diamond-champagne]

3. I Don't Deserve You

Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

Warnings: more angst

As always, please give me feedback. And Thank you for the support <3

The night was going fine until it wasn’t. 

After Azzi and Paige interacted in the kitchen, the air was filled with tension. For starters, Azzi insisted on no longer sitting on Riley’s lap. She claimed that she didn’t want the volleyball player to see her cards. It was an innocent enough excuse and to be fair, the game of UNO was cutthroat. But then, Azzi didn’t pay attention to Riley. If the girl initiated contact of any sort, it was returned half assed by Azzi. She had shrugged off her arm when Riley wrapped it around her shoulder. Everytime the volleyball player went in for a kiss, the basketball player turned her head so that it landed on her cheek. She also didn’t stop looking at Paige. The blonde-haired girl could feel her eyes on her all night. As a result, Riley was frustrated that her girlfriend was ignoring her for Paige. That’s when the night began to go downhill.

“Should we play Never Have I Ever” RIley proposes. There’s a chorus of agreement amongst the room before everyone is shuffling to get ready. Most of the team heads to make drinks in the kitchen, while the rest start to clear the table. It takes about 10 minutes for the game to begin after the girls get settled.

KK starts. “Never have I ever gotten back together with an ex. It’s an easy one to start with. Majority of the team drinks.

Ines is next. “Never have I ever been caught having sex” The group laughs while Nika, Ice and Amari drink. 

“Never have I ever hooked up with a friend.” Jana says. There’s a slight shift in the air. It’s thick and awkward. Paige swears everyone is looking at her and Azzi. They both take a sip of their drink. 

“Never have I ever been in love” Aaliyah says. Paige, along with some of the other girls drink. Azzi doesn’t. Paige feels as if her heart will crack in two.

“Never have I ever gotten my heart broken.” Q says. 

Paige throws back the rest of her drink. 

-

It’s nearing 2am when the team slowly but surely leaves Aubrey’s place. Everyone cleaned up a little bit of the mess before filing out in their respective groups. Paige and Blair are the last to leave. Both, tired from the night. The pair decided to share an uber. They schedule it to go to Paige’s apartment and then Blair’s. Silence fills the car comfortably until Blair begins to speak.

“You deserve better.” The words are softly spoken.

“I know.” It’s all Paige can say really, because she does. 

“You need to move on.” Blair presses harder.

“I know.”

There’s a long pause before Blair speaks again. “Carter invited me to Europe for Thanksgiving and Christmas.” Paige nods in acknowledgement. “When do you leave?” The blonde-haired girl isn’t dumb. She knows that this is what her new friend has been wanting. “Next week” Blair starts. “I would stay through the holidays and come back next semester. All of the classes are online so I don’t really need to be here.”

“I’m happy that the two of you are figuring this out.” Paige says because she is. Just because she can’t have the person she loves, doesn’t mean that Blair should have to suffer.

“Thank you.” Blair says and Paige can tell she’s being sincere. The car comes to a stop and Paige moves to get out of the car. A hand on her wrist keeps her from exiting the vehicle.

“Take care of yourself, Paige. You’re too full of life to be half loved.” Blair whispers.

“Good night, Blair.” The words come out soft but they’re laced with defeat.

“Good night, Paige.”

-

Paige isn’t even surprised that Azzi is waiting for her when she gets into her apartment. The curly-haired girl is sitting on the couch this time. They make eye contact briefly before Paige walks into the bathroom to start getting ready for bed. She hasn’t said a word and she honestly doesn’t want to. Azzi follows her into the bathroom but still doesn’t speak. The only sounds that fill the room are their breathing. 

Wordlessly, Azzi sits on the counter and begins to help Paige take off her makeup. She rinses the washcloth with warm water before running it over Paige’s face. She repeats the action until her best friend’s face is bare. Just how Azzi likes it. She tosses the washcloth aside before moving Paige to take out the braids in her hair. The two make eye contact in the mirror. There’s too many emotions between them now.

The friends make their way to Paige’s bedroom. The sight was enough to make the older girl chuckle. On her are her favorite pajamas: boxer shorts and an old Hopkins t-shirt. On the nightstand is her purple water bottle and Advil.

The gesture alone has her spiraling but it annoys her for reasons she can’t understand. She suddenly hates the silence between them so she demands answers instead. 

“Do you feel guilty?” Paige asks. Her voice is low and curious. She begins to strip out of her clothes from the night. 

“What?” Azzi asks. It’s obvious from the way her eyes are locked in on Paige’s body that she didn’t process what she was being asked.

“Do you feel guilty?” Paige repeats. “Like even a little bit?” 

Azzi stammers to start her response. “I- I-” she starts but Paige cuts her off.

“I feel guilty all of the time. I slept with someone’s girlfriend. I smiled in her face after fucking you on the couch not even two feet away.” Paige lets out a chuckle at the last bit. They’re so fucking messy. 

Azzi grows irritated at the admission. “If you felt so bad, why did you sleep with me?” She scoffs and rolls her eyes. Azzi knows she isn’t a saint but she’ll be damned if anyone thinks she’s the only sinner.

Paige grows silent. There isn’t much she can say. The silence settles between them again. The air is thick and heavy. The two are staring at each other, wordlessly.

“Who are you in love with?” Azzi asked after a beat. The question throws Paige off kilter. She almost doesn’t remember that it was a question from the game. “Don’t ask me that.” Paige scoffs. “Why?” Azzi pushes. “It doesn’t matter.” Paige sighs. “Doesn’t it though?” Azzi counters.

Paige walks out her bedroom into the living room. The four walls of her bedroom were closing in on her. She needs more room. Azzi follows her; hot on her trail. “Tell me!” the younger girl pleads. 

“Why?” Paige exclaimed. “It doesn’t change anything. You’ll still be in a relationship with RIley all the same, so why does it matter?” The volume increases in her voice. She’ll probably wake the neighbors but she doesn’t care. “It ends the same regardless, Azzi, because you don’t have feelings for me. We wouldn’t be having this conversation if you did.” Paige exasperates. She plops on the couch with a sigh. The blue-eyed girl blinks rapidly to prevent the tears in her eyes from falling. “Tell me.” Paige begs. The crack in her voice strikes something deep in Azzi’s core. “Tell me you have feelings for me.” 

Emotions charge the air. The silence is the loudest sound to both of their ears. Paige and Azzi look at each other. The friendship between the two will never be the same as it once was. They both feel it. They both know it. Azzi stands to leave. She doesn’t give Paige an answer because she knows that Paige knows. 

Her hand is on the handle, ready to leave when she hesitates. Azzi turns back to face Paige. The sight of tears running down her face is heartbreaking. Azzi swore at one point that she’d do whatever was necessary to never see such a pained look on her face. Azzi also never thought she’d be the reason it was there.

“I feel guilty all of the time, too” and then she’s gone.

PREVIOUS | NEXT

[baeshijima]

— it's the small things with you that matter most

just some day-to-day snippets depicting how it's like to be in a relationship with alhaitham.

CONTAINS : gn!reader, 4.4k wc, fluff, (attempts at) humour, slight crack, established relationship, idiots in love

A/N : HAPPY BDAY BELOVED HAITHAM !! smitten clingy sappy menace haitham is my lifeline huhu 〒▽〒 (this is also just me once again advocating cute/energetic readers with haitham TヘT)

(can be read as a standalone or viewed as the post-happenings of [how to woo the acting grand sage 101] ^^)

Navigating through a relationship with Alhaitham isn't as hard as one might think.

The transition from friends-who-pined-for-years to lovers was a lot easier than you’d like to admit. While there were some significant changes to adjust to (read: Alhaitham's sudden surge in displays of affection), your dynamic pretty much remained the same.

And while you've had your fair share of ups and downs, most of your more serious fights happened before you got together. Considering how long you both have known one another, it wouldn't be an understatement to say you know the other like the back of your hand — understanding minuscule hints and mannerisms anyone else wouldn't notice — and so, most disputes are settled before they can even surface.

Most of your fights wouldn’t drag on for long as you're both pretty open to discussing the root cause and where you both were in the wrong. That and the fact it's hard to be apart from each other under bad terms, as you've come to realise after the particularly bad argument you had two months ago (Kaveh demanded you both stay at your house so that he didn’t have to witness your intensified displays of affection after reconciling).

More often than not, your subject of disagreements are petty, typically resulting in revoked privileges of affection from the victim. That usually results in both sides being depraved and cranky (well, more so than usual in Alhaitham’s case) until the revoked privilege is, uh, unrevoked,

Well, it’s a good thing you both rarely argue!

--

“How could you?!” you cry out, lower lip tugged between your teeth, fists clenched and body trembling. The air between you comes to a standstill, your ears ringing from the built up pressure. “I trusted you!”

Alhaitham merely chuckles, cold and unforgiving. “That was your own mistake.”

Your eyes widen when he raises his hand, breath hitching at his enclosed fist. “Wait... No, don't—!”

And then he deals the final blow, destroying the last card remaining in your deck and effectively winning the match with a smug grin tugging his lips at your misery.

A heart-wrenching scream tore from your throat soon after.

“ARGHGHR—!”

“Well,” Tighnari sighed sympathetically from over your shoulder while Kaveh pats your back at your complete and utter defeat, “I guess that means it's Cyno and Alhaitham in the final round.”

“I won't lose,” is all Cyno says as he nods in your direction.

You nod back, empty and positively dead inside. “Go for it, Cyno.”

“Hey,” Alhaitham cuts in, turning to you with a deadpan. “Shouldn't you be cheering me on? You know, your lover?”

You don't face him. Instead, you cross your arms and scoff before turning your head to the side. "Hmph! As far as I'm aware, you're a traitor; not my lover."

“Wait, [Name]—”

In the end, Cyno did in fact win tonight's game night.

(As a result of this utter betrayal, you refused to indulge Alhaitham in any affection for the rest of the week.

It's Monday.)

On a surface level, most would think you're the clingy one in this relationship. They're not particularly quiet about their fascination, and it's not like you actively try to hide your affection for the absolute love of your life. In fact, sometimes when you hear those whispers and murmurs you often find yourself looping an arm around his own, crashing into him for a hug, or placing a chaste kiss against his cheek.

(It's pretty fun seeing their embarrassed reactions and awkward coughs.)

But, in actuality, the clingy one in this relationship isn't you; it's Alhaitham. Your friends — Kaveh especially — can attest to this.

Take now, for example.

“Mmh,” you groan, vision bleary as a drowsy haze weighs down on your limbs. It’s warm — invitingly so — and the temptation to drift back into deep slumber seizes the corners of your consciousness. Despite the comforting lull on the cusp of coaxing you back into sleep, the heavy arms wrapped around your midsection reminds you of your original predicament. “Haitham please. I have to—”

“No.”

“But I really should be going—”

“No.”

You sigh at his insistence. When you try to remove yourself from his arms he tightens his hold, the sheets rustling at the abrupt movement. And so you try again, only to find yourself rolled over onto your back with him hovering over you on his forearms in an effort to hold you in place. 

Warmth radiates from his torso to yours, the previous invitation to sleep more rearing its head once again. Unlike the frown lines and pout settling on his features, the drowsy droop of his eyes fighting to stay open has your heart weak and thumping wildly. You quickly avert your eyes from his earnest ones in hopes of protecting your resolve.

“I can’t stay in for too long,” you mutter, gently patting his back in hopes of appeasing your lover. It doesn’t work in your favour, however, as it only seems to spur him on and bury his face into the crook of your neck. As a result, you sense your already-waning resolve crumble at his shows of affection.

“Are you saying you don’t want to stay in bed with me and have a lazy day?”

“You know that’s the farthest thing from the truth.”

“Then stay,” he grumbles into your neck, bitter and half-asleep.

In all honesty, that offer is extremely tempting. If it weren’t for the fact you took a sick leave just the other day, you wouldn’t think twice about staying in bed where it’s all warm and cosy; not to mention it’s where your Alhaitham currently lies, trying to persuade you with his top-notch linguistic skills.

Unfortunately, the world is a cruel, unfair, unjust and dark place.

“If I was off like a certain someone,” you make sure to stress, and his fingers twitch slightly against your skin, “then I would. Unfortunately, I'm not.”

“Then just take a sick leave,” Alhaitham instantly counters. He nuzzles his nose into your skin, and a light shiver trails down your spine when he begins to litter warm kisses down the column of your throat. “I'll be all alone if you leave, you know.”

You blink once, twice, yet tufts of grey and teal remain in your sights. “...Are you guilt-tripping me into staying in bed?”

“I'm merely stating the obvious.”

Yeah. You’re not cut out for a life filled with mental battles.

“You...” A defeated huff escapes you at his matter-of-fact retort, and you could have sworn the floppy strand atop his head perked up at your surrender. “Alright. You win. Happy now?”

“Very much so,” he agrees with a smile into your skin. You spend whoever knows how long like this — lying flat on your back, running your fingers through his hair and gently massaging his scalp while Alhaitham holds you under his physique, subjecting you to his morning affections and early sun-kissed confessions.

Eventually he stops, only to roll over, prop himself up on his elbow and gaze down at you. Such tender eyes would be inconceivable to anyone who’s ever so much as spoken to Alhaitham, but knowing you’re the only one to be a victim of such expressions just makes it all the more flustering.

“What is it?” you whisper. Reaching out, you gently brush away loose strands of grey hair obscuring his eyes and tuck the longer ones behind his bare ear. His hand reaches up to grab hold of yours before bringing it down to press lingering kisses against each of your fingertips.

“Nothing,” he says in response, but a soft, sleep-induced smile tugs the corners of his lips, “just admiring you.”

“…Are you trying to make me fall in love with you again?”

“Is it working?”

“Maybe…”

He chuckles at your response before pulling you into his chest, arms and legs intertwined as he presses a long kiss atop the crown of your head, imprinting unspoken affirmations containing his everlasting love for you.

“Good.”

(“Y’know, back when I could only wonder what it would be like to date you, I always thought I would be the clingy one. Sometimes, reality really is more surprising than fantasy.”

“Are you saying I’m clingy?”

“Well,” you look down at your waist encircled by Alhaitham’s arms before locking eyes with him again. “Just a little?”)

“Ugh, it’s so cold...”

“I feel fine though.”

“Yeah, well, this isn't about you, okay? Y'know, some people aren't immune to the cold like yo— mfhm.”

“Stop talking,” he says as he fixes his scarf that's now wrapped around the lower half of your face and neck. Upon ensuring there's no gaps exposing you to the cold air, he begins his nagging, “What did I say about dressing warm? I told you you would complain about the weather but no, you said you would be fine. You even said your coat was thick enough to drown out the chill and so you only brought that. Where did that get you? Cold.”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” your whine is muffled slightly through his scarf, but you've heard enough of his reprimands to last you another lifetime. “You're right, I'm wrong. Like most times.”

He breathes a sigh, eyes softening at your half-covered features, “I'm only like this because I care for you.”

“I know. Still doesn’t make it any less annoying.”

“That’s—”

Whatever Alhaitham was about to retort with vanishes, instantly forgotten when you lean forward and wrap your arms around his waist. It’s faint, but you hear his heart rate pick up — soft palpitations drumming against your ear with a brief stutter before settling into a steady rhythm.

There’s a calm ambience that settles as you bask in his familiarity. His arms wrap around you not a moment later and he relaxes in your embrace with a soft inhale and exhale against your temple (you don’t have the heart to tease him for his heart being anything but relaxed in fear of ruining the mood).

Perhaps it’s the familiarity, or maybe it’s the cold weather and warm scarf, but a question you’ve been pondering for a while seems more than fitting for this occasion as opposed to any other.

“Is there anything you dream of or desire for the future?”

There’s a minuscule pause.

“Where's this coming from all of a sudden?”

“I dunno. I guess the cold is making me feel a bit nostalgic,” you mutter into his shoulder, leaning into his warmth. A contemplative hum resounds above you and rumbles deep from his chest, firm arms pulling you closer into him — further into your solace.

“What I desire most for the future...” he begins in a whisper, causing you to lean into him a little more to hear him clearly, “...is to lead a peaceful life with you. One where we can grow old and still be content in each other’s arms, no matter the hardships we encounter or the amount of time passed. That’s the one and only future I desire more than anything.”

Butterflies pool in your stomach, ardour fills your lungs. Ah. You blink, mind blanking and throat constricting at his soft tone and words. I forgot he can speak like this.

“Are you crying?” he asks, baffled. It’s only then you realise he’s staring at you — dual-coloured irises wide and bottom lip trembling ever so slightly.

Hastily, you turn your head and rub away the fluid collecting along your lower lashes. “I-It's because your words made me emotional! How could I not react like this when you just say something like... like that?!”

“I was just being honest.”

“That’s what makes it emotional!” you cry out. Through tear clouded eyes, the scenery becomes blurred and the colours of nature begin to smudge together; an incomplete canvas stark against the perfection before you. “Because you’re so honest with your feelings and know exactly what you want, hearing you say something like that and considering our future just... makes me really happy, y’know?”

Amidst your light sniffles, a wave of bashfulness hits you. Alhaitham seldom speaks of such things he is unsure of, even more so when they are matters pertaining to the future. He’s someone who has a clear destination paved before him, paying no heed to needless quibbles nor detours and only focusing on what lies ahead. And so perhaps it is the realisation that he harbours the same sentiment as you — the one of growing old and awaking to the other for countless mornings to come — is what brought upon this flustered feeling; one that reminds you all too much of your early-stage crushing way back when.

While the sudden urge to hide your face away from the eerily silent man is strong, Alhaitham is stronger. And quicker.

“Then what about you?” he finally asks, your arms away from your face and held in his grasp. His thumbs trail along your lower lash line and wipe away any stray tears that may have escaped your attempts.

You blink at his words, dumbfounded at the redirection, “Huh?”

“Is there anything you dream of or desire for the future?”

Your lips parting in understanding, you waste no time in answering the question with a cool glimmer against your reddened eyes and an attempt at a thumbs up while in his hold, “A comfy life with endless good food.”

“...”

Wow. The wind is really loud today, huh?

You faintly register the dull ache tugging at your cheeks before noting the lack of distance between you both. With a blank stare, Alhaitham pays no mind to your drawn-out whines of protest, opting to eye you with his signature “disappointed-but-not-surprised” expression.

“Shtop pinching my cheeks.”

“And if I don't want to?”

“You're gonna stwetch 'em!”

“And? You'd still be cute regardless.”

Your face scrunches at his words, and his hand falls from your face. “Ugh, and what do you know about cuteness?”

“Enough to know that no matter what happens, you'd still be the cutest to me.” A self-assured smirk curls his lips, seemingly proud of his statement.

“Wow...” you marvel, and he seems to take your awe in stride. Your next words, however, have him immediately regretting his admittedly sappy confession. “Does that mean you'd still love me even if I became a slime? Wait, no, a fungus?”

Your lips are forced into a pucker.

“Don't push it.”

(Alhaitham would, in fact, still love you even if you somehow became a slime or a fungus. Maybe.)

There’s something so pleasant about not having to constantly deal with troublesome matters — more so if there’s troublesome people involved. Within the confinements of his own space, Alhaitham breezes through the paperwork needed to be signed and turned in for the day.

Despite the initial repulsion he felt when being nominated as the (Acting) Grand Sage, he has to admit the tedious work reaped various benefits after stepping down not too long ago; one of which being an increase in his pay for having been of such high standing. His goal to live a peaceful has never looked brighter than now — he's back to his easy job, his nine-to-five shifts, a lavish house to call his own (while pointedly ignoring the existence of his roommate), a quiet life with little-to-no disturbance, and now more mora under his name and secured for the unforeseeable future.

In short, life is perfect for the scribe, and nothing else could shake his peaceful life—

The door swings open and bangs against the wall. His once messily strewn papers now flutter in the air and leave you to stand in the centre of the commotion. Chest heaving with a grin splayed on your lips, you’re about to say something until you take note of the room's less than tidy state.

“Aha... Oops?”

Alhaitham can only stare blankly as you sheepishly glance around his office and the mess you created with your whirlwind of an entrance, your hand gingerly rubbing the back of your neck when avoiding his pointed gaze. You quickly fumble to gather the loose sheets that landed around you, and he spies two boxed-up meals hanging from your arms.

Right. Nothing else could possibly shake his peaceful life until you stumbled into it all those years ago, a bumbling fool whom he came to adore more than he thought possible. You, who brought him a world of unimaginable vibrancy and beauty. You, who reduced him into a state of irrationality and impulsivity just to bear witness to your heart-pounding smile (the one that never fails to send his heart madly aflutter, and yet make him believe you could single-handedly be the cause of world peace). You, who he would undeniably, undoubtedly, pluck out the stars for if it would protect you from sorrow and heartache for the rest of your life. You, who has his heart, body, and soul in the palm of your hands.

Well, if anything, you’re a key figure in his peaceful life and future life plans; to him, you’re his precious person — and he has no intentions of changing that.

--

After recollecting the scattered sheets and being on the receiving end of Alhaitham’s nags of “Don’t you know how to knock and enter like a normal person?” and “What would have happened if you dented my wall?”, you settle down with the freshly boxed-up lunches.

With your regular lunch meet-up underway, you ramble about your day while he listens, adding a comment or two here and there where he deems appropriate. It’s the usual routine; its familiarity brings you comfort like no other, and one you couldn’t imagine a world without.

Your mouth freezes open, the spoonful you were about to eat remaining stagnant midair. Alhaitham doesn’t seem to take any notice — well, if him chewing his own food in content with his small hums had anything to say about it. Oh. And the fact there’s an extremely pretty smile currently tugging his lips.

(Haha. Who gave him the right to be so breathtaking? Not you, but you’re not complaining. You’re actually thanking life for allowing you to bask in such a sight every day.)

“You have a pretty smile, Haitham.”

The words slip out before you even realise, but it’s not like you have any intentions of taking them back. And so you roll with it and perch your chin atop your palm, watching as Alhaitham freezes, cheeks flushing at your sudden compliment.

When he glances up, lips pursed and eyes narrowed cutely with embarrassment, he asks, “Do I?”

“Mhm,” you hum before reaching out and squishing his cheeks, much like he always does with you. Another laugh escapes you at his widened eyes, and you lift the corners of his lips into a mock smile with your fingertips. “So you should smile more.”

It takes him a moment to process your words but, when he does, a soft chuckle fills the air between you. He reaches up to enclose your hands in his, a gentle smile appearing naturally on his lips. “I only need to show you my smile, though.”

His response renders you silent, the tender affection seeping through his gaze consuming you whole. Sometimes, you forget Alhaitham is capable of such expressions — the ones that make it seem as though you hung up the stars and lit up the night sky.

Unsurprisingly, your heart flutters.

Hehe, that's my Haitham.

“What's got you looking so smug for?” he asks, one brow raised yet his smile remains.

“Just thinking about how lucky I am to have you in my life like this.”

“You really...” he mutters, though you don't hear the rest when you find yourself trapped in the chair, his hands gripping the armrests and caging you in. “Keep being this cute and I might never let you go.”

“Are you implying you'll let me go one day?” you tease in an effort to ignore the warmth bubbling from his words.

What you don't expect is for him to lower his head until his nose brushes against yours, a smug grin of his own decorating his lips.

“Of course not,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “I'll just keep you in my arms for the rest of our lives.”

Your mind draws a blank. “...You wouldn't.”

“Would you like to bet on that?”

“Not particularly.”

That regular lunch meet-up resulted with you having a sore forehead.

Today was a long day. All you wanted to do was to return home once your hours were over, but it seems the world was vehemently against the notion of you cuddling up to your awaiting lover (who is very much impatiently waiting for you. On your bed. On his day off). From being bombarded by scholars to the research papers that only seem to increase in height and stacks, it’s a miracle you even made it back home within the same night!

Fumbling for your key, your mind juggles between wanting to eat or going straight to bed. Upon walking through your front door and up to your bedroom, your mind is made up.

Light spills from beneath your door, the warm hue making your body relax as you enter your bedroom to see Alhaitham resting against your headboard with a book in his hands. His gaze was already on you when you opened the door, but the thick veil of drowsiness dismisses any ideas of teasing him for it. All you want is to sleep in his arms, if you’re being completely honest here.

“You’re finally back,” he states, tone softening when taking in your fatigue. You merely reciprocate with a drowsy nod before trudging over to your bed and flopping into his awaiting arms. Alhaitham huffs when you nuzzle into his chest, his book long-forgotten in his lap. “Shouldn’t you get changed and washed up?”

His words cause you to further bury your face into him. “Don’t wanna. Too sleepy.”

“That doesn’t mean you can sleep as you are now.” A sigh escapes him when you ignore his words, his fingers gently tracing hearts into your lower back. “Just change out of those clothes at least.”

“Chest... Too comfy...” The ministrations of traced hearts come to a halt. Not even a second later do you feel a dull ache push into your skin. “Ow— hey! What was that for?!”

“Oh, great,” he drones with an abundance of nonchalance, blank stare countering your wide frenzied one. “You’re awake it seems. Now you can go get dressed and wash up without issue.”

If he didn’t have such a sturdy physique, you would’ve given his chest a good whack. Well, you still did, but it doesn’t have the same effect when he isn’t phased by the action. And so you roll off Alhaitham with a pitiful whine before trudging to the bathroom in hopes of evoking some deep-rooted, immeasurably painful guilt for depriving you of your well-deserved sleep.

(Spoiler: it doesn’t. You’re pretty sure you heard him snort instead before returning to his book. Asshole.)

When you return, you’re a bit more awake than before. Despite wanting to just sleep, you figure reading something would be the quickest route to dreamland. And so you scour through your various bookshelves in search of something to read (courtesy of Alhaitham leaving his books lying around your place and making you buy two more just to organise everything). A spine with a miniature dragon embossed in glimmering gold catches your eye, its calligraphic title resurfacing memories of when you first bought it.

With eager steps you make your way to the bed and plop down beside Alhaitham, who glances at you with a raised brow at your sudden surge of energy. He doesn’t dwell on it for long though, as he re-engrossed himself in his book with you pulled against his side.

Silence enveloped the bedroom, only disturbed by the sounds of pages turning, thoughtful hums, scoffs of disbelief, and soft gasps.

Another scoff breaks you from your concentration. Glancing up, you see Alhaitham scrutinise the page he’s on with a half-scowl. He doesn’t seem to notice your change in focus, so you ask, “What’s that you’re reading?”

“‘Are we real or is life a hoax?’” he deadpans, and you don’t find yourself surprised one bit. He glances down at the book in your hand, attention diverted from the (probably) infuriating text. “And what about you?”

“‘I was mercilessly sacrificed for the greater good of the Archon War, but I’ve somehow returned back to the moment before my death and now Morax is in love with me?’” You hold up the cover depicting a woman and, who you assumed was the artist’s rendition of Morax — a cloaked figure with wisps of long hair and stunning gold eyes — kissing the back of her hand. “That’s the title of this light novel!”

Alhaitham takes a couple of seconds to just stare blankly at your grin before retorting, “Don’t let anyone from Liyue hear what you’re reading.”

“Well, it’s not like they’re meant to be historically accurate anyway,” you grumble, re-opening the page you were previously on. “And besides, do you know the sheer number of Liyue people who bought this and left good reviews? There’s so many! And there’s also...”

Alhaitham leans back as you continue rambling about the reviews, plot holes, exciting moments, emotional moments, the insane (you made sure to stress) build-up to the confession, and so on. A warm smile tugs his lips as he listens to your voice, paying half a mind to the questionable contents of the book in his hands.

The night drones on, your voice slowly dying out along with it.

“Hey, Haitham?” you call out between slurred mumbles, your eyelids steadily growing heavy. When you hear a light hum from overhead, you continue. “Can I tell you something?”

“What is it?”

“I love you.”

And then you're fast asleep, soft snores and even breaths escaping you as you fall limp against his warm chest.

Much unlike your peaceful figure, Alhaitham's brain malfunctions. There's a familiar constriction gripping his heart — stomach sent aflutter as his racing thoughts increase in tandem with the heat rapidly consuming him. Through a shaky sigh he reclines his head against your bed's headboard, his book now obscuring his face doing little to hide the blooms of crimson searing his skin.

“What did I say about you being cute...”

The night ends with you getting some much needed sleep and Alhaitham getting no sleep at all.

(When you question him on his dark circles the next morning, he merely fixates you with a deadpan stare at your gleaming, well-rested face before gently pinching your cheeks.

“And just who do you think's at fault here, hm?”

“You, for not sleeping?”

“...”)

if you enjoyed this, then reblogs with/or comments are greatly appreciated !! <33

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[identityua]

Can I have Venti, Focalors and Ei dating hcs?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

DATING THE GENSHIN ARCHONS.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

PAIRINGS: Ei & Furina x GN!Reader

WARNINGS: Mentions of death (Makoto). Me completely bullshitting everything about Focalors, since we have practically nothing to go off of. Tooth-rotting fluff as well! TAGS: Romance, kisses here and there, maybe even cuddles, pda, possessive behaviour (only a tad and mostly on Focalors), kinda sad, but also nice.

(I didn't write for Venti sorryyy)

EI

• The only way for your relationship to develop is already after the decree, because well, she was absent during it. Which means you don't have to put up with the awkward Shogun puppet, and actually hang out with Ei herself! • Let's start off with the fact that the electro archon is pretty much, entirely clueless about the whole romance thing. Unlike the other archon on this list, who has some idea of it either due to experience or media, this one spent thousands of years isolated. So let's be honest, you are going to need a lot of patience and skill to guide her into the playing field.

• In the first stages of your relationship things would be awkward, maybe even embarrassing. Baal wouldn't know how to react to your advances. Attempting even a simple peck on the cheek, would result in a confused:

"What are you doing, may I ask? A kiss, hm... It feels uncomfortably wet."

• Despite the lack of intimate knowledge, she will try her best with you. Because you are one of the most important things to her, you make her feel warm and secure, something Ei hasn't experienced in a long while. She will just have to put up and learn with you "interesting human antics."

• I hope you have a good dentist. The electro archon has an extremely sweet tooth, and in addition she has a whole array of servants and cooks at her disposal. Pretty much every date/hangout will consist of consuming copious amounts of sugar at one point or another.

• She doesn't really understand that humans need nutrition in different forms, not only sweet mochi and dango. So either try to explain that to her or... eat some protein beforehand.

• Being around Ei is calming. Whether you are an active or a quiet person, somehow her presence just balances everything out inside of you. Messy thoughts turn silky smooth, as just her soothing voice is enough to make you forget your troubles. Who needs a therapist when you have the electro archon?

• While you get to enjoy the tranquility that comes with being in her gentle company, sadly for Ei it is the exact opposite.

• Don't get me wrong, she loves spending time with you but... Ei just cannot shake off the sticky feeling that comes with it. You are a mortal, and mortals die. Their lifespans are short and often insignificant, little flickering candles that die out in a moment compared to how long she has lived.

• The thought simmers inside of her with each passing day, painfully reminding her of what she has felt when Makoto passed. Thoughts of eternity are mixed into this painful concoction as she wonders, has she made the right decision?

• However the archon is wise. She is a deity that has lived for many a millennia, and remembers the lessons she has learned through healing and self-discovery. The precious moments in life will hold no meaning If she staggers their flow. What matters is the now, she will worry about the later when it comes.

• Your relationship is neither public or private, because she doesn't exactly care If anybody knows. If danger is to come for you, because somebody with malicious intentions finds out you are affiliated with her -- Ei can protect you, no doubt about it. So it doesn't truly matter If somebody is aware of it or not. I would worry about Miko finding out, which she of course will, because that kitsune will not ever stop teasing the both of you about it.

• The one to think about marriage the least. It's not in the cards for either of you, and as she is slowly letting go of the idea of eternity, the symbol of "eternal love" can be a bit too ironic.

• Overall, a relationship with her is the exact opposite of the one with Furina. It is calm, secure, and loving, everything that a wounded soul like her would need to heal and keep on living. You are the light of her days, and no matter how fleeting, Ei will cherish every memory made together.

FURINA

• You know how the traveller is considered to be the saviour of many nations, due to their heroic acts? Saving cities from destruction and stuff, and how their journeys are super dangerous? Well, you made their job 10 times more difficult. Because Furina's act just went up by a mile.

• The citizens of the city of Justice simply cannot be happier that you exist, because around you, their beloved Lady puts on an even better, grand performance (in hopes of impressing you.)

• Chief Justice, however? Pray for him and his nerves.

• As long as you are present beside her in court, she tends to be in a better mood during the trials, even the ones she would normally consider boring. After all, how can she be bored If her precious mortal is right by her side?

• At the same time however, her emotions are bursting out of her, with you around. Yes she is in a better mood and more agreeable to compromise, but this drama queen cannot hold back from showing off in front on her partner. You are the only one who can influence her. So, you have to physically sit her down, and your conversations during trial are often something along the lines of:

“In my holy opinion, you are utmost guilty!”

“Love, he just asked a question, let’s not make assumptions just yet.”

“UGH, fine🙄”

• Will make comments during trials that are guaranteed to be the foulest roasts you have ever heard. The entire time you two are just trash-talking everyone, gossiping like high-schoolers.

• The hydro archon cannot get enough of you, but she is highly inexperienced in relationships. Therefore she will be flustered to initiate anything, but will brush it off with a mocking laugh. She adores acting all high and mighty, like you are lucky to even be around her (It’s the other way around). However If you were the one to touch her out of nowhere, she would practically melt, trying her best not to cling onto you like a koala.

• (Sometimes however, she does cling like a koala.)

• PDA is a bit iffy, because she does get extremely flustered, but she wants everybody; and I mean everybody to know that you are hers. So the Lady Justice will sit there, head up high with pride, blush all over her face, boasting about how she is the best of archons and of course has the best partner. Kiss her on the cheek and watch steam come out of her ears.

• Lady Furina is the type to say “Eyes on me” to her partner, but not in a suggestive way, no. She just wants yours undivided attention, and will get annoyed If she can’t have it 24/7. Please for the love of everything, set boundaries with her. She is a being that has lived for hundreds of years, she has no idea what that is.

• Kisses with her are a bit awkward, stiff even. She would never allow for them in public (only on the cheek is okay, since she prefers not to get too flustered). Which means they would be intimately shared only between the two of you. Furina would drop the act ever so slightly, her truthful nature slipping out. The scared of rejection, terrified of losing you nature, which she hides underneath so many covers of her flamboyant personality. Perhaps, this vulnerability is what makes her kisses so emotional and so very her.

• Despite the fact that she can be a bit much, she tries to be as caring as possible around you. As someone who spends days and days analysing criminals, she picks up on behavioural patterns very easily. Therefore, as soon as you are upset, she is on the case, looking for a way to get you smiling again. She will drop anything and everything to be at your side If you need her, because you are just that important to her.

• However having said that, she is not the best at picking her words sometimes. Furina can be a little offensive with her comments, so just let her know it bothers you. After all she does care for you, and would hate having you hurt.

• Will not apologize. Unless she has tremendously fucked up, don't expect any verbal apology. Focalors is like Slavic parents, instead of saying “I’m sorry”, she will bring you a gift and tell you to stop sulking. After all, she’s the god of Justice, she’s not used to being wrong.

• The one archon out of all in Teyvat to think about marriage the most. I mean she is the holy deity and persona number one in her own court, she can arrange that whenever and however she wants. As your relationship progresses, Furina finds herself daydreaming about you and her having a majestic wedding. The thought makes her giddy with excitement.

• Dates with this archon are spontaneous, and are probably the most unique you have had in your life. I mean, who else would take you sightseeing into the abyss? Yeah, only this one.

• Can be a Karen to service workers whenever you go to restaurants. Don’t let her, or she’ll never stop.

• Overall, being in a relationship with Focalors is spontaneous, fun and lively. Never a dull moment with her, but she can be overbearing and a bit clueless. Have patience for her, she does truly love you after all, as much as a deity can.

+

• Catching Focalors’s attention in the first place is not that difficult, for one reason. Yes, she seeks constant entertainment and you would think that she needs a jester for a partner to keep her in a relationship. But due to her tendencies and the fact that everyone only adores her for the dramatics she puts on, she can get quite lonely.

• No one really knows or understands the hydro archon for who she is, therefore she is terrified of slipping up, making a mistake, showing any sign that she isn't all mighty and all knowing.

• So If you manage to see past that façade, and not make fun of her for it? Take her heart, It's already yours.

[rabbit-or-rib]

WOOOO LETS GO YAY YAY YAY ^_^ Romantic Alphabet with Tim Wright ? :3

- 🧸

U GOT ITT !!!!!!!

🚬 Romantic alphabet with Tim Wright :)

A = Attention, how much attention do they want in the relationship?

he's not gonna ask for it, and it'll be a little awkward for him to actually be getting attention for the first bit of the relationship- but he LOVVESSSS IITTTTTT this guy swoons so hard when you're lovin on him however you choose to (he might get a little overwhelmed, though, make sure you listen when he tells you it's not the best time !!)

B = Baby, do they want a family? Why/why not?

in Tim's ideal world, the two of you are far away from wherever you are and you live way out in the countryside, with as many kids and/or pets as you want. but, for right now, he'd much rather keep it just the two of you with a pet or two- he doesn't want to put anyone in any more danger than he already feels like he has.

C = Cuddle, do they like to cuddle and show affection? How?

OOOOOO BUDDYYYYY he's a very very shy snuggle bug. most days you'll have to initiate things- lay your head on his shoulder, hold onto his arm, lay down in his lap- and it almost always ends in a nap when you're further along in your relationship. he'll pull you into his lap or grab your thighs to get you straddled over him when the two of you are going to bed, though :))

D = Dates, what are dates with them like? What do they like to do? 

he's not the biggest formal date guy, as much as he'd like to be. he does like to take you to a drive in movie every now and then, but most of y'all's dating life is centered around late night drives, quiet walks through the woods together, or really anything to do with enjoying each others presence. if you hint hint wink wink at him about wanting to go somewhere or do something specific, though, he'll do his best.

E = Equal, do they prefer to be more dominant or submissive in the relationship?

he's an old fashioned (and paranoid) guy !! he wants to be the one to drive you around, do the heavy lifting, pay for everything- let this man spoil you rotten while you sit pretty

F = Fights, how do they handle arguments? How quick are they to forgive?

fights with Tim usually are the result of one or both of you bottling up emotions for too long. when you guys have a serious fight, he knows himself and he knows he needs some time alone for a little while- nothing extreme, just enough time to get himself calm and levelheaded. forgiveness for him comes relatively easy depending on what it was about- you thought he was mad at you because he was a little quieter or cold for a few days? he gets why you'd think that, he'll try and make sure you know what's up with him next time. you were caught going through his personal belongings/phone because you were looking for something you might not like? you're gonna be shit outta luck for a while. his privacy means a lot to him, invading it is never a good idea for either of you

G = Gratitude, how grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them? 

VERY !! he may not be bubbling over with words of praise for how amazing and wonderful you treat him, but all throughout the day he'll have his chin resting on your shoulder and whispering small praises your way, little kisses when he sees you doing any chores around the house, and if you play your cards right, little monologues to you late at night when he thinks you're asleep

H = Honesty, are they honest with their s/o? How important is it to them in a relationship? 

he's an honest man about most things to you, the only area i can see this being a problem in is his work. he doesn't wanna talk about what he does, why he does it, where he goes- any of it. he wants to keep you and the things that plague the back of his mind separate.

I = Insight, how easy is it for them to read their partner? (Mood, thoughts, etc.)

he'd definitely know if something was up with you, but that doesn't mean he's gonna push on it. you'll get one or two "y'alright?"'s before he drops it. he knows that not every issue is one that needs to be let out, and he does his best to respect that. one of his favorite things though is when he can tell you're excited but you're trying to keep your cool about it, he can't get over how wide your smile is or how you keep shifting your weight on your feet- adorable to him

J = Jealousy, do they get jealous? If so, how easily? How do they deal with it?

quietly jealous. when you're talking to someone that clearly has an interest in you, it's a hand on your hip, massaging your shoulder, pulling you closer. it won't end in violence if they back off, but if it does get there he'll make it fast dwdw <3 usually levelheaded about it though!! just might lead to things later

K = Kiss, what are their kisses like? Who kissed who first?

YOU KISSED HIM !!! he was so nervous about messing it up or making you uncomfortable he ended up just staring at your lips, it was the first time he took you out on a late night drive around town since you two became official and he had walked you up to your front door. his breath caught in his throat, he fiddled with the belt loop on your pants as he held your hips before you pulled him into a kiss with your hands on his cheeks. it completely melted him; his face heating up as he pushed his lips harder into yours, he craved it even as he was getting what he wanted.

L = Love, who said “I love you” first? How often do they say it? When did they realize they were in love?

you told him you loved him and he was this 🤏 close to crying. it reminded him of how starved of it he'd been for so long, and while he didn't cry, he certainly held you close for a long, long time with his face buried in your hair

M = Marriage, do they want to get married? How long do they have to be in the relationship beforehand? What would the marriage be like?

he wants to get married so bad. he wants that ring on your finger, to see you all dressed up, to have the world know you're his- just as soon as you get away from all this, he's popping the question. 

N = Nickname, what are the nicknames they have for their s/o? Do they like when their s/o uses nicknames?

i feel like he would try not to acknowledge it when you use nicknames/petnames with him, but he thinks it's so cute when you do :) i can see him calling you darlin' a lot

O = Open, how long does it take for them to open up to their s/o?

long. long time. there are some things from his past that he just might never talk about, honestly. most of the reason isn't anything to do with you specifically, just that he doesn't wanna relive those moments or uncover something that sparks up new nightmares. the other part is him being scared that despite all of the other things you know about him- his job, what he does, Masky as a whole really- it'll be what's deep down and irreversible inside him that scares you away.

P = PDA, how do they feel about public displays of affection? What kind of PDA do they show?

not the biggest fan of PDA i feel like !! his hand in your back pocket or around your waist isn't uncommon, but i seriously doubt that he'd wanna be swapping spit im front of y'all's friends

Q = Quality Time, what do they like to do for quality time with their s/o?

essentially parallel play 😭 you two don't have to be talking or doing the same thing, as long as you're in the same space he's happy :))

R = Reunion, how do they react after being apart from their s/o? How do they cope when they’re away?

HE HATES IT AND THEN ACTS ALL TOUGH GUY ABOUT IT 🙄🙄 he'll text you pictures of things he sees on the road or bring you snacks on the way home, tell him you missed him and watch his face get all pink it's adorable

S = Sad, how do they cheer their s/o up when they are feeling down? How do they like to be cheered up?

honestly just tell him what you need. space? he's outta your way, just come find him when you need him. physical comfort? he's holding you the whole rest of the night and rubbing circles on your back when you cry into his chest. wanna talk? he's great at listening, especially on the porch over a cig

T = Thrill, do they need to try out new things to spice up your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine? 

unless you have something in mind, you're one of the only peaceful things Tim has in his life, and he so desperately needs it to stay that way.

U = Understanding, how well do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

usually very !! as long as you're treating him with respect, you'll get it right back at you. he knows that just existing is hard enough as is, he's not looking to stress you out any more.

V = Value, how important is the relationship to them? What is its worth in comparison to other things in their life?

you mean the world to him !!! deeply madly truly he would do anything for you. you've brought back the light in his life and he hates thinking of what it'd be like if you left.

W = Wild Card, a random relationship headcanon

iiii can't think of anything with the reader, but i can tell you for a FACT him and brian used to mess around in college together

X = Explicit, a NSFW headcanon

he's so embarrassed but he so wants you to take control of him. it'll take a lot of trust, but when you get there?? you could have him however you want him

Y = Your Name, if they did get married to their s/o, who would take whose last name?

i think he'd prefer to have you two share his last name just because it's something he's always dreamed about- but tbh if your last name is just straight up cooler he's down to go either way

Z = Zz, how do they like to sleep with their partner? What time do they like to go to sleep/wake up, ideally?

he's GOTTA be holding you. sometimes he doesn't even fall asleep holding you, but when the two of you wake up he's hot a grip on you. he feels awful if he has to leave in the middle of the night for work or do overnight trips- tries to leave a little note on the nightstand about where he's going and a lil 'Love you'

[milkmissiles]

todoroki as a boyfriend pls? 🥺 I'm so weak for him oml

Oooo yes ofc! Sorry this took so long lol I have been so busy. Also it's much longer than I thought it was going to be haha. I'm weak for him too honestly he's just so pretty.

Hope I did this man justice :)

♡Boyfriend Todoroki♡

-CW- fluff, a bit suggestive but nothing too in depth. Probably SFW.

Pairing: todoroki x GN reader

He is dense. Like denser than dense.

You could literally make out with him for hours and he still wouldn't get the message.

He'd be like, "What are you doing..? I don't need cpr..."

This bitch

Its Not that he doesn't have feelings for you, In fact its pretty much the opposite. It's just that this poor traumatized boy can't even comprehend that someone would want to date him.

And he's literally the prettiest boy in U.A. so you eventual gave up on trying to ask him out because you figured he probably just didn't like you.

Imagine this poor boys reaction when you stop talking to him everyday. He is crushed.

Would inevitably go to Midoriya for help. He doesn't understand his feelings for you and pretty much has to be informed by Midoriya that it's a crush. Unfortunately, Midoriya isn't all that good at confessions either. So obviously, the next best option is Bakugou.

Except that he also sucks ass in this situation... he'd tell poor confused Shouto to grow a pair or something.

Eventually Shouto goes through literally everyone in the class asking what to do. He gets tons of advice and multiple lessons and pep talks from the girls.

At this point you know how he feels before he even has the chance to ask you out... I mean he is constantly talking about it out loud in the hallways and in Class. There have been multiple note passing situations between him and Mina that resulted in a very pissed Aizawa, and a very embarrassed Shouto...

When he finally gathers enough information on this whole "crush" thing. He works up the courage to ask you out. You would obviously know what was happening, but please act surprised he's trying really hard.

He would ask you out in like the textbook way, With a little flair added by Mina and Denki.

He bought you red roses, and brought you to an extremely fancy restaurant. Like, dress code level fancy.

(Don't worry he's using Endeavors card please buy the most expensive thing on the menu)

He would be super uptight and formal at first, And it's really awkward.

But you were expecting that considering it's Shouto so you don't mind.

As long as you continue making conversation, he will calm down eventually, smiling softly at you from across the table while you tell some story about an annoying customer you dealt with at work yesterday or something.

He loves the sound of your voice and the way you get all riled up when you rant about something annoying. Or the way you talk with your hands when you're excited. He loves watching you just talk. He doesn't even need to say anything he just nods along, giving all of his attention to every word that comes out of your mouth.

By the end of your diner, the atmosphere is completely normal. Shouto's nerves have calmed down at that point, and his confidence is up a bit.

Once you leave the resteraunt, he offers his hand to you. He doesn't say anything. he just kinda puts his hand out and hopes you get the message. When you take his hand, he immediately starts leading you down the street.

You ask where he's taking you and he just says "it's a surprise.. you'll see when we get there."

And it is a long ass walk into the middle of nowhere. Like the literal bush. If it was anyone other than Shouto you would have thought you were being kidnapped.

Fortunately it is Shouto. So you've got nothing to worry about.. but you start to wonder how long this walk is going to last... he seems very concentrated.

Finally, you get to the spot. Emerging from the bush to see two pairs of ice skates a lake that is completely frozen.. which was obviously Shouto's doing considering its the middle of summer.

You would ice skate together for hours. Your hand in his, he would slow his pace down a bit because you are definitely an inferior skater to him.

(Which is why Denki and Mina suggested skating. Gotta give him as many opportunities as possible right?)

But in the end, he doesn't try anything. He doesn't want to push you to do something you're not comfortable with.

Even though a first date with Shouto would be extremely awkward. After a few months of dating, and quite a bit of reassurance that he didn't have to worry so much. He would come around.

I don't think he would be into pda like at all. He would definitely be on the shy side when it comes to physical affection. Although he does like to be the one who initiates it.

In public he would do small touches, like pulling on your sleeve to get you attention, Or brushing hair out of your face. He would hold pinkies with you if you were in a crowd. Telling you to keep close to him. (Or honestly you don't even have to be in a crowd, he's just worried about you)

"Stay close ok..? There's a lot of people her, you could get lost." He would say, squeezing your Pinky a bit.

He would hold your hand if the crowd got to chaotic, his grip firm but not to hard. A drop of sweat rolling down his forhead.

He's really scared of losing you. After all, who knows how long it would take to find you again, right? You could easily be ambushed by a villain. Or a civilian for that matter. I mean, normal businessmen can be just as dangerous as villains. Definitely a threat to your safety. Or at least that's what he's thinking.

I mean, can you really blame him? U.A. students and pro heroes alike get attacked almost daily. So it's not his fault if he's worried, right?

On the other hand if you were in private, he would be much more touchy.

Not gross touchy but like cute soft touchy y'know?

Like he would come up behind you if you were doing housework and stuff and just rest his chin on your head and follow you around while you do things. Every few minutes asking if you need help.

it would be the most menial things too. Like your just minding your own business, unloading the dish washer and there he is asking if you need help putting away a singular fork.

He just wants to make your life easier, but man, it is constant.

He would be so nervous to kiss you when you first start dating. He does not know how.

But surprisingly enough, I think he'd be naturally talented. Like he warns you in advance that he's never really done it before, and you're all prepared for the most awkward, stiff kiss of your life. And then, by some miracle, he's like a master kisser.

within a few makeout sessions you're experiencing mind-blowing, earth-shatering kisses with this man.

His hands definitely wander when you two are making out.

Not even on purpose, he's just doing it absent-mindedly.

But even though he doesn't realize what he's doing. You sure do.

I mean how can you not with his right hand running through your hair, holding your head in place as he kisses you. And his left hand is traveling up and down your back, under your shirt, in a rhythmic soothing motion that could probably put you to sleep if you weren't currently making out with Shoto Todoroki.

You are a fucking mess and this man has no idea what he's doing to make you act like this.

Try and keep your composure at least a little bit, or he might think you're sick and dying though.

Seriously the first time ya'll did anything spicy he probably got so freaked out by the sounds you were making.

You literally had to show him source material to convince him he wasn't hurting you and you weren't possessed.

It does make sense though. Like there's no way Endeavor ever gave him the talk..

So he is completely clueless and you basically have to give him the talk yourself. But once he gets the idea, he's... well, let's just say he's very.. well endowed.

(...The carpet matches the drapes...)

He would literally break your guys's 11th bed frame and he would just be like "oops."

Absolutely menace. Nobody wants to have to replace their bedframe that many times. Nevermind your bed sheets which also tend to get ruined.

It's a good thing you're both top pro heroes and absolutely loaded.

He would be so good at aftercare though. He cares about you so so much, so he would definitely pamper the shit out of you after ya'll do your thang.

He would run you a warm bath, heating to water up to the perfect temperature with his Quirk. He helps you into the bathtub, massaging the shampoo into your hair with the most gentle touch you have ever felt.

After he takes care of you and you both go to bed, you would have no trouble falling asleep.

Your bodies pressed against each other. Your head resting peacefully on his chest as he strokes your hair, breathing a sigh of relief. Just knowing you're there, with him, and your safe. That's enough to give him a good night's sleep.

I would literally die for him. If he needs a dog, I can meow 👍

[hulahoopsoupgroup]

arlecchino character story 4 got me fucked up lads

shes so haunted by the past that she cant sleep. my poor husband 😭

so, more headcanons

version 1: canon compliant

arle cant sleep most of the time. she has nightmares of the people she killed, both on purpose and on accident, as a result of her cursed powers getting out of control. she sees crucabena taunting her, blaming her for clervies death, and she sees the few people that died as a result of her powers burning them to ashes, and she wakes up after only a couple hours of sleep, exhausted, not willing or able to fall back asleep

but sometimes she dreams of clervie. she dreams of the times they spent together when they were kids, awkward and clumsy, tripping over their words as they tried to confess to each other when they were teenagers. she dreams of intertwining their fingers, her own hands free from the black stains that mark them in her waking hours, of clervie in her arms and their lips pressed together

but of course, she must wake up at some point. and she grasps the sheets around her, finding them empty, and feels and ache in her heart at clervies absence. she feels almost like clervie is still with her, watching her from some corner, some different realm, so close but too far away for her to touch her

version 2: clervie survived au

i feel like both of them have trouble sleeping most of the time. arle cant sleep for reasons already explained, and clervie cant sleep because of like. ptsd. she constantly has nightmares of her mother treating her worse than a dog, of clervie herself thrusting a sword into crucabenas heart. she sees herself in those terrible duels crucabena loved so much, killing her own friends when she was so young.

both of them will wake up in the middle of the night, with clervie gasping for breath and clinging to arle, and arle tightly wrapping an arm around clervies waist, carding her fingers through her hair as she tries to slow her own heartbeat and shaking limbs.

most of the time, they lie there, tangled up in each others embrace, unable to fall back asleep, and theyll just mutter about whatever crosses their minds until the sun comes up

sometimes, though, theyll find so much comfort in the others presence that neither of them wakes up a single time during the night

both of them will often be exhausted during the day, and they often make up for sleepless nights by leaning up against the other and dozing off during slow afternoons

[acquired-stardust]

Game Spotlight #16: Yu-Gi-Oh! Dark Duel Stories (2000)

Just in time to celebrate its upcoming release as part of Yu-Gi-Oh! The Early Years compilation, Ash takes a look at the very first title in the series released in the west with Dark Duel Stories, a quirky little game that remains surprisingly playable to this day. Come take a quick look at the game to know what you're in for when The Early Years releases later this year!

Yu-Gi-Oh! is a series that Larsa and I have a lot of affection and nostalgia for. Once upon a time we were even avid players of the physical card game (Larsa to much greater competitive success than I), and we've kept up with the series in all its various forms for most of our lives now. Binging the notoriously campy and hilarious English dub of the anime together was one of the first things we did as a couple, and when we started Acquired-Stardust it was a no-brainer to create some content in tribute to the series. That content even went on to become some of our most popular posts, so the series holds a special place in our hearts as well as in the history of the blog.

It's a fascinating series that has taken on a lot of different forms throughout the years and you might be surprised to learn that the iconic physical card game, now mostly known for its incredibly long first-turn combo plays that determine who wins and loses before you're even able to do much playing, wasn't even the original hook of the series. Yu-Gi-Oh! began life as a manga by the late Kazuki Takahashi, the story of a high school boy possessed by an ancient spirit that would punish Domino City's many bullies and thugs through the power of Shadow Games, dishing out Twilight Zone-esque ironic punishments to them, with the signature card game the series is so synonymous with only being played a total of twice in the first 60 chapters before becoming the main focus with the Duelest Kingdom arc which the anime most western fans are familiar is based on. It was a shockingly dark and violent manga especially compared to the camp that the series is more well known for.

Just as well, the physical real-world card game itself has undergone radical shifts in mechanics and formats over the years since its 1999 introduction, and the result is a series that means something different to everyone. If you poll a hundred people, odds are they'll all have a different bit of the franchise as their favorite and consider a different era to be its peak. Larsa and I are personally most fond of the early years of the series, and so playing some of the video games set in that awkward 'wild west, anything goes' time when they were learning and experimenting with exactly what they wanted the card game to be was a pretty intriguing prospect.

And make no mistake about it - Yu-Gi-Oh! Dark Duel Stories is very much in that early feeling-out period. So early in fact it released a mere two days before the Playstation classic Forbidden Memories and eleven days after the debut of the physical card game in America. Dark Duel Stories may have been the first Yu-Gi-Oh! game released in the west, but it's actually the third game in a Gameboy-specific series of Yu-Gi-Oh! titles (and has had its name swapped with its predecessor - whereas Dark Duel Stories is the name of the second title in Japan, this game was originally titled Tri-Holy God Advent in Japan). This series follows what I'll be calling the Gameboy Format for the game for the purpose of this piece, and for the most part it faithfully recreates the base mechanics of the physical card game (which we're assuming you have at least some level of familiarity with, but if not actually playing Dark Duel Stories yourself is a fine way to learn) with a number of key differences.

The first important difference in the Gameboy Format is its de-emphasis, but not total elimination, of Effect Monsters, Traps and Magic cards. Decks consist of a mandatory total of 40 cards, each with their own cost and level limit associated with them. Monster cards will make up the bulk of decks due to their low costs compared to the very costly Magic and Trap cards, necessitating clever usage of the game's largely weak lineup of Monster cards. Facilitating this is the biggest key difference between the traditional physical card game and the Gameboy Format in the much larger emphasis it places on the elemental typing of Monster cards, more inspired by the original manga's version of the card game. Each monster card in the game has an element associated with it (a total of eleven elements exist in the game), with the elements following a rock-paper-scissors sort of mechanic not unlike Pokemon that sees elements strong against one another (such as Water being strong against Fire) be able to inflict increased damage on their opposing element. Unlike Pokemon however, Yu-Gi-Oh's Gameboy Format sees Monster cards of an element weak to its diametrically opposed element outright destroyed before inflicting any potential lifepoint damage to players.

While this can (and will) lead to asinine scenarios in which the iconic Blue Eyes White Dragon card is destroyed by the meager Kuriboh, it adds an interesting layer of strategy to the game that goes beyond simply loading decks with the most powerful cards obtainable. It also stands in stark contrast to the physical card game in which setting up unbeatable scenarios with very little counterplay outside of hyper-specific scenarios on the first turn has become a hallmark.

Another aspect of the Gameboy Format that differs from the physical card game is the lack of Polymerization, a Magic card that enables the fusion of Monsters into a new and more powerful creature. While the Polymerization card is missing the fusion mechanic itself remains, relegated to an entirely unexplained process in which the player can attempt to combine any two monsters to potentially result in a successful fusion with getting the formula incorrect resulting in the first card being replaced by the second. It's small touches like this and the unique elemental system that promote a lot of experimentation and make sure that every Monster card has a potential use regardless of how weak they are statistically.

Players are given a deck of cards to start with and tasked with defeating three tiers of opponents, all of whom being an iconic characters from the manga and anime, five times each. Defeating opponents will earn the player more cards and card parts (more on this in a moment), as well as raising the deck level and cost limitations imposed on the player slowly but surely. There are a total of 800 obtainable cards in the game which can also be acquired through the usage of the Password system that allows players to add one of each card to their collection through entering the corresponding password associated with them. The Password system also allows players to unlock the game's hidden bosses as well as enabling additional post-duel drops indefinitely.

The game's main hook is its allowing of the player to create custom cards through combination of obtained card parts, with players able to combine top and bottom halves of original Monster cards in all sorts of ways that change their attack and defense values, elements, names and appearances. It's a small gimmick that the player is not necessarily required to interact with by any means but does help immerse you in the series by allowing you to create your own unique signature cards.

The end result of Dark Duel Stories' gameplay loop and format is a game that is perfectly suited for its handheld platform in all the best and worst ways. Its small, almost bite-sized duels go by rather quickly and painlessly but obtaining cards without the use of Passwords is a grind-heavy experience that leaves the player completely at the mercy of random chance. The costs associated with constructing decks can feel stifling at first but forces you to engage with the game and appreciate some of its eccentricities like the elemental system, and makes finally being able to include higher-value cards feel like the major upgrade in power that it really is.

It's a perfect fit with the Gameboy Color that allows you to sink however much time you want into it, grinding away to raise your level and cost limits or obtain cards on long road trips or just spending a few minutes beating Joey Wheeler or Seto Kaiba one more time.

Another strong aspect of the game is its art, faithfully adapting 800 cards from the game's early era to the Gameboy Color with a lot of success. Opposing duelists are also particularly strongly adapted, including a lot of (but unfortunately not all) the iconic characters one would expect to find in the game in impressive detail all without an over-reliance on digitizing existing artwork from the manga's original artist. The beautiful pixel art splash screens after selecting an opponent hold up extremely well and have my vote for some of the best visuals on the platform.

Not quite as strong is the sound, with songs being inoffensive and not super memorable but certainly serviceable - you won't be muting the game to protect your ears or anything, but turning on your own music instead might help with some of the grind if you're wanting to invest bigger chunks of time into obtaining Dark Duel Stories' large amount of cards or raising the limits imposed on your deck.

A small touch I greatly appreciated was the lack of manual saving, with Dark Duel Stories featuring a reliable autosave that happens after every duel, making rematching or putting the game down both a painless experience. One particular annoyance is the lack of a search function in the card library, so it's helpful to keep a guide on hand to reference individual card numbers you might be looking for rather than having to scroll through 800 cards manually.

While it's not a perfect game by any means, Dark Duel Stories remains a very fun and addictive time capsule of an era of the game now decades past and comes at an extremely early point in the existence of the physical card game and series at large. There's a lot of charm and a deceptive amount of depth to hook new and old players alike, and the gameplay remains smooth and fast all these years later despite obvious platform limitations.

It even allows players to link two Gameboy systems to duel or trade, though this will be less attractive a feature to people playing the game via emulation on PC which typically lacks the capabilities necessary for multiplayer functions. Original manga author Kazuki Takahashi constantly designed little games that appeared in the backs of compiled volumes of the manga, most often played with dice, and it's not surprising that he'd also come up with a very fun card game too even if this wasn't exactly the format we'd come to know in the years after the release of Dark Duel Stories.

A gem hidden among the stones, Yu-Gi-Oh! Dark Duel Stories is undoubtedly stardust.

-- Ash

[nagislemontea]

BEING REI AND RITSU’S LITTLE SISTER.

— Headcanons.

Having the hereditary condition your brothers do as well, you got sent to the same school as them so that they could keep an eye on you. 

Congrats you’re the favourite sibling— Ritsu doesn’t dislike you, in fact, he approaches you often to either sleep on your lap, or invite you to the Tea Club. Rei equally adores both you and Ritsu, but since you don’t ignore him, you’re typically the one experiencing his doting behaviour. 

Rei‘s usual absence during his second year and before affected you as well. You had guessed his intentions, but that didn’t stop the overwhelming loneliness you’d feel at times. You and Ritsu grew even closer in that period of time, being each other’s pillars of support. 

Ritsu would confide in you, as you do with him. He does little things, such as patting your head in approval; take you to a shaded area if the sun got too much; letting you borrow his sleeping masks; taking you to see his unitmates, so that you can have more older siblings to look after you. 

With that, you’d hung around the Knights quite a lot, growing close with the members, especially Arashi, who seems adamant on acting as an elder sister for you. There are times where she’d take you shopping for new clothes (During a cold, sunset evening preferably). You guys would drag Ritsu with you if given the chance too as well. 

You had grown close with Koga during Rei’s absence as well, you’d eventually found out that Rei had personally asked him to take care of you during his leaves. You’d confided in Koga at some point about Rei, now he teaches you plenty of card games to beat Rei in as a form of revenge. 

Now, when Rei came back, you didn’t ignore him, but you did tell him how you felt. He dotes on you more in his own way as a result; letting you beat him in those card games; taking you on walks in the gardens to chat with him; letting you use his coffin with the air conditioner; hugging you everytime he sees you, and a lot more. He’s doing his best to make up for what you’ve missed out on for the past year. 

You act as a bridge to connect your two brothers, no matter how awkward it may be. You know Ritsu doesn’t truly loathe Rei, but more so has lost trust in him from his promise to care for them yet left abroad majority of the time. You also understand that’s part of the reason Rei had become more doting than ever. So, with the free time you have, you often try to arrange sibling bonding times to help them out a bit. 

There had been a time that you three were on a train on the way home; you fell asleep on Ritsu’s shoulder; Rei fell asleep on yours; Ritsu surprisingly stayed awake to watch over you two. Though nothing was said at that moment, both Rei and Ritsu were incredibly thankful that you, their youngest sibling, cared for them as much as they cared for you. 

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

07/01-02/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Gizmo Darby; Rhys Darby; Taika Waititi; Vico Ortiz; Kristian Nairn; Samba Schutte; Adopt Our Crew Charity Raffle Results; Teal Oranges & Garlic Soup Week ; Fan Spotlight: Cast Cards; Never Left Podcast; Our Flag Means Fanfiction; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Today's Taika

== Gizmo Darby ==

Rhys has been active posting about Gizmo on Facebook!

Source: Rhys Darby's Facebook Stories

== Rhys Darby ==

MORE TURAL commercials! Please don't stop Rhys, these are so much fun.

== Taika Waititi ==

Taika out cooking with Andy Hearnden!

Source: FloodyWastaken's Instagram

== David Jenkins ==

Okay so this isn't exactly a Chaos Dad Sighting, but it IS a sighting of David and Kinga's new pup SimoneLeBone.

Source: David Jenkins Instagram

== Kristian Nairn ==

Some more shots of Kristian from his trip to Yorkshire Comic Con

Source: stuwhittaker_photography Instagram

== Jes Tom ==

Some shots of Jes at their show Corporate Pride!

Source: Jes Tom's Instagram

== Vico Ortiz ==

Guess who's coming to Florida Supercon 2024? You guessed it! Vico! It'll happen in Miami Beach, FL, July 12-14, 2024. To buy tickets, visit: floridasupercon.com

Source: Vico Ortiz' Instagram

== Samba Schutte ==

Guess who else is going to be at Florida SuperCon? Samba! Once again, it'll be at Miami Beach, FL, July 12-14, 2024. To buy tickets, visit: floridasupercon.com

Source: Samba Schutte's Instagram

== Adopt Our Crew Raffle Winners ==

Adopt Our Crew's Charity Raffle Winners have been pulled! Wanna see if you've won? Visit any of @adoptourcrew's socials! Tumblr / Instagram / Twitter

Source: AdoptOurCrew Tumblr

== Teal Oranges & Garlic Soup Week ==

I ran out of image space last issue but I wanted to highlight some more fabulous work-- this time check out @watercolourcritters and their fun and adorable submissions for @garlicsoupweek! I absolutely adore the sweet tenderness in each drawing. I also can't get over the awkward family photo, it made my day <3 Feel free to check them out over on their tumblr or Instagram | Etsy | Tip Jar!

Source: @watercolourcritters Tumblr

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Cast Cards =

The darling @melvisik gave us yet another fantastic crew member tonight, Nancy Hennah! She's also an "Emmy submission (Outstanding Period or Fantasy/Sci-Fi Make Up for Calypso's Birthday) P.S. Did not know she and Ra were married!" Also, thank you to @xray-vex for mentioning, she's the fantastic crew member that brought Ed's Tattoos to life!

Source: Melvisik's Twitter

= Never Left Podcast =

Episode 24 is out! This week they're talking about Ed and Physical Touch! Check them out on Spotify or at on their https://linktr.ee/neverleftpodcast!

Source: Never Left Podcast Instagram

= Our Flag Means Fanfiction =

New mini episode of Our Flag Means Fanfiction - this time Murders at the Inn by ahopelessnecromantic! Read by Carly Heath. You can find it on your favorite listening platform on their https://linktr.ee/ofmff!

Source: Our Flag Means Fanfiction Instagram

== Loves Notes ==

Hey there lovelies. It's been a rough couple days for everyone, everyone I talk to is either not sleeping or having a bit of a rough time of it. Please remember to get some rest. Take a break, drink some water, step away from the computer, and go outside for a while. If you can, sit in the sun for a few minutes, take your shoes off and run them through some grass. Remember that the world is still turning, and it is lovely, and it is beautiful, and so are you.

Take care of yourselves lovelies <3

Some love notes from thelatestkate:

Source: The Latest Kate's Tumblr

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==

Just a reminder one of the reasons we love this show. Those smiles <3 Today's gif courtesy of @livelovecaliforniadreams!

[otomiyaa]

Lyney's Trick

A/N: Fic #3 for the 2-part fics! No tickling yet in this part, so the poll results will really have a lot of influence on how the fic will continue🤭

Summary: Lyney is at a birthday party with many of Aether's friends. Because Lynette and Freminet are a little awkward and stiff, he asks them to help him play a trick on someone. It will definitely guarantee some joy and laughter for his siblings, the person tricked, and everyone else.

It was a fun gathering. Sure it was. They were inside the marvelous Serenitea Pot Realm to celebrate the Traveler's birthday party, and it was rather impressive. Quite many people from all over Teyvat showed up to join the celebration.

The lively Gaming just came off the stage after giving a performance which was soon followed by Furina who was now in the middle of giving a fabulous show of her own. Lyney already had his turn and gave a magic show earlier as well.

"Enjoying yourselves?" he asked Lynette and Freminet. That was the only problem with this gathering. He noticed his siblings were a little shy to socialize with others.

From Fontaine almost all of Aether's friends were here, which was quite surprising. Even Neuvillette, and Wriothesley - but then again, even the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide wouldn't miss a chance to enter the Traveler's infamous Teapot realm and enjoy a cup of the finest tea.

From other nations there were people like the very loud Harbinger Childe, Venti the Bard from Mondstadt, Arataki Itto from Inazuma, Hu Tao from Liyue, just all those personalities combined made it quite lively, loud, chaotic and energetic, so he understood why Freminet and Lynette were a little overwhelmed by it all.

"Maybe we can join them?" Lyney suggested, pointing at the Sumeru table where a few people were playing cards, but Lynette shook her head.

"I'm fine. I drink tea," she said stiffly. Wriothesley, at the same quiet tea-table, nodded proudly.

"It's good tea," he said. Neuvillette merely nodded. Lyney shrugged. He would feel bad to leave them alone so awkwardly, even though he felt a little more tempted to engage with the others, to learn more about their nations, their friendship with Aether, maybe to show them more of his magic tricks and- oh.

A trick. Maybe he could get Freminet and Lynette to open up if they helped him with a trick! Not just a trick. The secret magic trick.

"Guys, do you remember my secret magic trick?" he asked Lynette and Freminet. Freminet shook his head.

"What secret trick?" Lynette asked.

"The one that makes people laugh. Even you, it made you laugh," Lyney said, and he winked. Lynette blushed.

"Oh. That one." She clearly remembered, and Freminet did too since he made a little squeak noise.

"You wouldn't," he said.

"You've got my attention. I am curious now, right Neuvillette?" Wriothesley said. Neuvillette nodded again.

Lyney hummed and gazed around the crowded space. "Well, the secret trick needs a person to try it on. It's a magical trick to make someone laugh, so..." he explained, while he considered the perfect victim. Not anyone from the Fontaine group, the chance was they had seen the trick, heard of it, or witnessed him playing it on people in Fontaine. It was quite popular and effective after all.

So...

His eyes fell on Gaming who was still gathering compliments after his show. He seemed like an easy target, a sweet bubbly and curious person who would definitely want to try it out.

Lyney then stared at Childe, the Eleventh of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers. Very tempting, but being a member of the Fatui as well, he would meet him a little more than others perhaps, and besides, Childe was clever. This scheme could backfire, but at the same time, if he would succeed... Lyney would feel more triumphant than ever.

"NOOOOOOOO!" Lyney almost fell over when a deafening yell could be heard from the Oni, Arataki Itto, who had just lost an Onikabuto battle against the Yashiro Commissioner, Kamisato Ayato. Itto looked like someone who would enjoy a trick like that, and he would most definitely fall for it.

While the Yashiro Commissioner and his sister looked quite elegant in a way that didn't really invite Lyney to trick them, at the same table sat a kind looking guy. Lyney knew he was called Thoma. He looked like he would accept and fall for it... perhaps?

The Mondstadt people were all too busy admiring Furina on stage, and the Sumeru group seemed very invested in their card game, however... Lyney noted the blond guy who seemed a little distracted.

"Kaveh? It's your turn," the fox guy said to him. Kaveh. Hm... Maybe him, but it was a question whether he would accept.

Lastly, Lyney glanced at Aether who was also staring at Furina's show at this moment. He had cute sparkles in his eyes. He was the perfect victim, but honestly, he was also the most dangerous. Lyney would definitely get his ass handed right back to him afterwards, but it could be worth it.

"Well? Who will it be?" Lynette asked, and Lyney smiled when he noticed she actually looked forward to this. Freminet seemed eager too.

With so many people together he was sure they would attract some attention soon, so he had only one chance to perform the prank- er, trick successfully.