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#this has been on my mind a lot lately but i particularly wanted to send this message out before only friends airs
justafriend-ql · 9 months
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reminder to all gifmakers that your work is always a unique, valuable contribution to the community. even if someone has already giffed that scene. even if you're not 100% happy with the coloring. even if it doesn't get many notes because sometimes people only look at the 'top' posts in the tags (which are usually just the first posts on the scene after an episode drops).
frankly, the culture of expecting gifs to be made within 15 minutes of an episode airing and only reblogging posts made within that timeframe is stressful and unsustainable for creators, and it prevents people from discovering and appreciating the wonderful diversity and abundance of work that can be found here.
follow your favorite gifmakers, reblog generously, and have some compassion for people that devote their time to making beautiful things <3
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honeykyeom · 1 year
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white noise / track 1: st. patrick
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pairing: lee seokmin x afab! reader
series summary: your best friend seokmin has always been there for you. after a particularly rough heartbreak, you find out he's there for you in more ways than just one.
series notes: uni!au, best friends to lovers, friends with benefits, kpop 97 line antics and shenanigans (specifically seventeen & loona), 18+ (smut is outlined/warned beforehand)
chapter notes: alcohol mention and consumption, house party setting, smut!!! (oral sex [afab receiving], protected sex, small insecurity mention), mingyu being pouty, yves being a terrible wingwoman, minghao being the king he is, to my jaehyun lovers i'm so sorry, this is for the orbits for the pain that we've been through
wc: 7.2k (still can't believe i wrote this much)
a/n: i've teased bringing this back a lot and this series still means so much to me, even though it still sits unfinished lol. this first track especially. and if it weren't the support (& excitement) of @onlyseokmins, idk if i ever would've reposted it. so this is for you bb <3 please let me know what you think in the tags or send in asks, i'd love to hear your thoughts! <33
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“What do you think about this?”
You look over at your friend, her figure adorning a velvet tube top with loose white cloth pants, an outfit that’s comfortable and light for a steamy college party and yet accentuates her curves enough to show off. Any sane person would tell Yves that she would be the center of attention as soon as she walks through the door, having everyone question if they wanted to be her or be with her.
“It looks good,” you respond with a nonchalant shrug, going back to aimlessly scrolling on your phone, surrounded by a multi-chrome array of clothes.
You were clearly not the sane person in that scenario. 
Yves turns to you, exasperated at your attitude. “Dude, you’ve been so boring since you got your heart broken by Jaehyun.”
“I did not get my heart broken.”
“Really? Because you’re acting like the second lead who just got dumped in a drama.” 
“Your outfit and you are hot, like always! Is that what you wanted to hear,” a small chuckle leaves your lips as you stand up from the bed. “Anyways, I’m not heartbroken, just upset.”
You look over your outfit in the floor-length mirror of the room, your black booties standing out against your mid-wash jean shorts. As you play with your cardigan, your mind wanders to Jaehyun and the ghost of a fling, fleeting and indescribable to anyone not close to you. You begin to wonder how he describes you to his close confidantes, if the small cafe dates and late night study sessions in the library were described with care or if all that mattered were the rushed bedroom antics, leaving you with just a memory and an “I think we should see other people” text message. 
“Take this off. I know you and you’re going to get hot,” Yves wakes you from your daze, pulling your cardigan off your body, revealing your black cropped tank, “This is a better outfit anyway. We’re going to a party, not one of Haseul’s opera recitals.” She joins you in the mirror, a small smile gracing her face as she assesses your outfit. “Much better. Plus, this,” she gestures to your figure, “will help you get laid.”
You roll your eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“You know what they say! To get over someone, you have to get under someone new.”
Looking at Yves, her pride evident in her stance and a mischievous gleam in her smile, you were sure of one thing. “You’re absolutely mental.”
“You know I’m right,” Yves insists. “One way to quickly get over someone is to have sex with someone else. I’ve done it.” Her shameless approach on the topic bleeds through her demeanor, her shoulder sitting low on her upper body as she sits on her bed and one of her legs drapes across the other. Just as you were about to respond to her, your phone buzzes in your back pocket, distracting you and Yves from the current conversation.
LADS ‼️💯‼️
seokmin: ya’ll going to the party tn?
haseul: can’t :/ have the late night shift at the library
mingyu: booooo tomato tomato
minghao: and what happened to fuck capitalism?
haseul: try telling our landlord that
minghao: fair enough
yn: yves and i are going!
seokmin: jinsoul?
jinsoul: social battery is pretty low, so i’m probably going to stay home
mingyu: BOOOOO tomato tomato 🍅🍅🍅 i'm throwing tomatoes!
yves: leave her alone gyu!
jinsoul: i’m not getting you coffee before class anymore for that
minghao: lmao good job gyu
yn: he will be his own downfall
mingyu: :(
seokmin: anyways the boys and i will see yall there! 
seokmin: do you need a ride?
yves: we’re taking an uber!
minghao: good. stay safe!
Yves looks up from her phone and looks at you with a playful smirk pulling at her lips. “You know what I just thought was a great idea.”
With her track record, it’s probably not a good idea.
“You should hook up with Seokmin.”
It definitely wasn’t a good idea. “Okay, now I know you’ve lost your mind.”
“You can’t tell me that you haven’t thought about it.”
You can’t deny that you haven’t thought about how your best friend would treat you in the bedroom. You would get lost in your head, thinking about how his arms had gotten toned after his recent workout sessions and how those same arms would hold you down as he made you reach cloud nine. Many would cringe at the mere thought, but with how close you and Seokmin were and how much time you two spent together, people thinking you were at least hooking up wasn’t uncommon, your cheeks getting hot any time it’s brought up. His eyes would get wide with that same sweet smile, the red flush on his ears disappearing quickly. You’d never cross that boundary just to get over a silly boy; your friendship means much more to you than a quickie.
“Just because I might’ve thought about it, doesn’t make it something that needs to happen. I’m not that desperate,” you double down on your stance, grabbing your phone to check the status of your Uber, finding any excuse to escape this conversation. The thin black line stating your driver was more than 5 minutes away, you mentally curse at whoever was upstairs who enjoys watching you suffer at the hands of Yves.
“Please, have you seen how buff he’s getting! Those arms?” a sly grin blooming on her face, she looks over at you expectantly as if you would agree with her. You do, but you’d never let her know that. Instead of entertaining her antics, you grab your personal bag, ready to leave for the night.
“Okay, you’re done. Let’s go,” you say, pulling Yves from the bed, “the Uber is almost here.”
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Walking through the door of the frat house, the humidity in the air makes your shirt stick to your chest like a second skin. The packed bodies only add to the warmth inside the cramped house, you silently thank Yves for making you take off your cardigan, the couple years of your friendship proving that she knows you better than you think. She hugs your backside, keeping you close as you move through the mass of people, looking for your group of friends.
“Do you know if they’re here yet?” you hear Yves’ voice, yelling above the crowd from behind you and almost blending into the music.
You respond, bringing your face close to her ear, “Yeah, Seokmin texted me saying they were!” She nods in acknowledgment, eyes scanning the immediate area. It’s hard to miss a man towering over the crowd, his signature black hair striking against his tan skin making him stand out as he takes a sip from his red solo cup near the kitchen. Two other men stand close to him, donning similar red plastic cups, one with a bright smile that easily lights up the room, shining with the fluorescent blues and purples of the house, and the other boy making his mark with a messy mullet and trademark style that defines his frame. Even if you hadn’t recognized the trio as your best friends, you would’ve instantly taken notice, the boys immediately attracting your attention. 
“I found them!” you announce to Yves, who’s still close behind you, clinging to your arm as if her life depended on it. Grabbing her hand, you move through the crowd, not caring whose toes you stepped on or if people didn’t hear your ‘excuse us!’. It wasn’t long before you met with the trio of men, their faces lighting up as soon as they took notice of your presence and Mingyu pulling you in for a suffocating hug. 
“You finally made it!” Mingyu’s breath is hot against you as he yells over the noise, still keeping you close even after the hug was long done, his arms tucking you underneath him. His chin decides to rest on your head and naturally finding its place as his arms wrap around your figure. At first glance, people may think that the two of you were an item, but Mingyu was just close with anyone he knew, finding any reason to hug his close friends. 
“You’re lucky we made it all, hell, with how many people are here!”
“We were talking about moving to the backyard once you got here. Did you guys want a drink first?” Minghao is the one to speak up, looking at you and Yves through his bangs, bringing his red solo cup to his lips. 
A groan breaks through the air, Yves grabbing his hand as she responds, “Yes, please. I definitely need it.”
Surprisingly, the kitchen is less crowded than the common areas of the house, bodies not congregating in the area once they make their drinks. You feel instant relief, the air conditioning hitting your skin, even a nice breeze from the back door giving you much needed fresh air. The group makes their way to the kitchen island, an array of liquor, beer, and mixers lining the surface, making the workspace nonexistent. Mingyu works with what he has though, his hands moving with diligence and ease as he acts as the group’s personal bartender for the night - just like every group gathering before. 
“Hey!”
Turning towards the voice, you’re met with Seokmin, his dark hair falling against his tan skin and a smile so big that the skin near his eyes smile along with him, still sparkling with the bright party lights. Your heart grows warm seeing your best friend, the energy around him bursting with sunshine and love that anyone can feel when they enter his presence. You return his smile and saddle up to his side. Your shoulders touch as the two of you watch Mingyu mix drinks for you and Yves, who joins you and Seokmin, sitting on the kitchen counter next to him.
“I haven’t gotten to ask you, how are you doing since…” Seokmin’s words trail off and you look at him, concern etched in his face.
“Since Jaehyun? I’m not made of glass, you know. We can talk about him.”
Yves chimes in, “Don’t act like you weren’t crying about how unloveable you were just two days ago,” her snark ever prevalent in her tone. 
“Anyways!” you retort, moving your attention back to Seokmin, “I’m fine. It was just a little fling, not a big deal.”
“It’s ok to be sad. You really liked him.” Seokmin flashes you a sincere smile, so pure, so full of light, the party seems to be worth it all from this little interaction. It’d been a while since you left your cave, only earthing to join the weekly movie night with everyone. Every time you wanted to hide away underneath your sheets, when you wanted your world to be blackness, when you wanted the world to swallow you whole, Seokmin was always there, the light at the end of your tunnel, pulling you out. 
“Well, we’re not being sad tonight,” Mingyu interrupts your daze, handing you a miniature plastic cup, the same shot-sized reusable cups that were on the counter for reckless decisions like this one. “We’re here to forget about Jaehyun and enjoy our friends. Ones we know won’t leave us high and dry.” He holds his cup up to the ceiling, everyone following suit. “To our friendship!”
The clear liquid burns in your throat and you can feel it travel down your body, a chill tingling up your spine. Your nights that usually start with vodka shots don’t end too well, you think.
Cheers to you finding out what this night has in store.
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A breeze wafts into the air, tripping you up and the ball you just threw blowing away with it.
“That’s not fair! The wind affected the throw!”
“Doesn’t matter! We discussed the rules before we started!”
A pout forming on your face, you stand back, giving Seokmin room for his turn. He turns to you, giving you a small pat on your lower back, muttering a soft ’it’s okay’ before his concentration is back on the five red cups laid in front of him on the table. His eyes are focused, his face still as he brings his hand up to aim, lining up his shot. The air was silent, the group paying close attention to his actions, watching him take his shot. The world seems to stop as he lets go of the plastic ball, everyone quiet until it reaches the rim of a plastic cup, toying with your emotions until it finally dips into the cup with a resounding plop.
You scream and wrap your arms around Seokmin, giddy with excitement as giggles fill the air. You don’t even care that there were still 3 cups to a victory and neither did Seokmin as he lifted you in the air, making your world dizzy. He held you tight, keeping you tucked into him even after he set your two feet back on the ground, his arms hugging you and taking place on your shoulders.
“I don’t know why Y/N is celebrating, they’ve missed every one of their shots!” Mingyu taunts, clearly trying to get under your skin. 
Before you can respond, Seokmin speaks up, “Hey! We’re closer to winning than you! And that’s bold coming from you when Yves is clearly carrying your team.”
Mingyu gets quiet at that, Yves not even able to defend her teammate, just turns to him with a sympathetic pat on his arm before lining up to take her shot. Minghao, who’s leaning comfortably on the back wall of the house, chuckles, only staying quiet once Mingyu shoots him a death glare.
Looking up at Seokmin, you pout with a small whisper, “Am I that bad?”
“What? No! Also, who cares? It’s just beer pong.” He leaves the comfort of your touch to grab the ping pong balls from the grass, both missed by Yves and Mingyu. 
“I care! For my ego.” You know he’s trying to make you feel better, trying to make sure you don’t take Mingyu’s competitive nature to heart like you tend to do. It is just beer pong. But the phrase “The more you drink, the better you are at beer pong” has exceptions and you may be one of them, the alcohol coursing through your system not helping whatsoever.
A playful smirk appears on Seokmin’s face as he says, “Would it hurt your ego if I helped you out with your form?”
You look at Seokmin through your lashes, your pout turning into a coy smile and a flirtatious lilt coming out of your tone. “No, I don’t think so.”
When Seokmin hands you the ping pong ball, he takes position behind you, lifting your hand with his, the other holding to your waist tightly. His breath was hot against your face, his voice soft and nurturing, tickling your ears, “You want to keep your wrist loose and have it high to start. It’s easier to aim from high above.”
It could be the alcohol talking, but having Seokmin this close, this intimate, had you thinking that maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to have him tangled in your sheets. The same caramel voice that was coaching you through your terrible beer pong skills, the same voice that calls you late at night to make sure you’ve made it home safely, that same voice would be coaxing you to your high, having you come apart from his words alone.
It’s definitely just the alcohol talking, you think. You hope that’s the case, anyway.
“Once you get an aim, you’ll want to let go and follow through with your throw.” Seokmin leads you in the motion he described, still keeping you close. With your confidence now elevated, the air still, and everyone quietly watching, you let go of the ball and follow its arc as it sinks into a center cup.
Pride lights your smile aglow, your first instinct to reach Seokmin for a hug in a small celebration. His grip on you is tight as he hugs you back, his eyes showering you with admiration. 
“I knew you could do it.”
“I only made that shot because of you.”
You glance over at the other side of the table. With a knowing smirk on Yves’ face, she keeps her eyesight towards the ground, preparing for her next turn. 
You won’t be hearing the end of it from her.
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You lean against the folding chair you’ve taken refuge in, a sweet breeze coming in, slightly lifting the jacket that’s draped across your shoulders. Smoke from the small fire in front of you makes your eyes sting, tears filling the corners. Bringing the cup you have to your lips, a clear line of separation from the ice that has melted and the alcoholic coke visible, you shudder at the taste and hand the cup back to Mingyu. “This party is kinda boring.”
“Oh, is beating us at beer pong not enough fun for you?”
“You’re starting to sound like a sore loser, Gyu,” Minghao chimes in, nursing his own screwdriver next to you. He keeps his puff jacket unzipped, letting the heat from the fire warm him up from the chill of the night air. 
“So what if I am? Yves didn’t do all that work for nothing.”
“Speaking of Yves, where is she?” You never saw her slip away from the group, the atmosphere missing her snark and light attitude, but you’re only met with shrugs from the two men in front of you. 
“She mentioned meeting with ViVi, don’t know if she ever found her.” The voice comes from behind you with a hand meeting your shoulder, the touch not unwelcomed, recognizing it to be Seokmin. “I’m assuming she has because she’s been gone for awhile.”
Just as Seokmin rejoins the group, a fresh drink in hand, your phone buzzes on your lap with the screen illuminating your face, looking at the text.
yves: leaving with vivi, don’t wait up <3
yves: also, don’t think we won’t be talking about seokmin later 
yves: 😉
yn: we won’t be talking about him bcs nothing is nor will happen
yves: keep telling yourself that
You tune yourself out of your conversation with Yves, exhausted from the few text messages and her persistence. Turning your attention back to the group, leaning your head against Seokmin’s arm. “Yves just texted me. She left with ViVi.”
“Of course she did. I’m surprised it took her this long to make a move,” Minghao comments. The fire was now burning stronger, embers flying through the space only to land softly on the concrete. “How long has she been talking to her, anyway?”
“About 3 months now,” Mingyu answers.
“Damn… She must really like her.”
“Yeah, she never waits that long if it’s just a hookup. Even if I wanted to take someone out, I don’t think I’d wait that long.”
Minghao's eyes flicker to Seokmin, something on the edge of understanding and comfort, almost like he was sympathizing with him. Something you might have noticed if you weren’t resting on Seokmin’s hips, eyes closed as he rubs small circles on your shoulder. Something you would ask Seokmin about if you had seen. The look leaves as quickly as it came, Minghao’s face leans downcast, lips pursed as if he was holding his thoughts in.
Seokmin’s face leans close to your ear, soft and inviting as he speaks, “You getting tired?”
“Not really. Just bored,” sighing, you look up at Seokmin, meeting his eyes. “Kind of want to go home.”
“Let me take you back, make sure you get home safe. I’ll get us an Uber.”
“You just got your drink! I don’t want to end your night early.” You give Seokmin a gentle smile, a small appreciative gesture at his care. He was always taking care of you, always by your side, always giving himself to you. You wanted him to enjoy his night not worrying about you, at the very least.
Suddenly, Seokmin is walking to Mingyu, handing his cup over to the man sitting on the concrete, engulfed in conversation with Minghao. He announces his departure, telling the boys to make sure to get to their shared apartment safely and let him know when they do. Then, he’s walking back to you, grabbing your hand with such kindness, such care, before he’s looking at you expectantly. 
“Let’s go.”
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Your keys clinking fill the dead space as you enter your apartment, making sure to hold the door open, inviting Seokmin to follow you. He’s been here many times, whether it was alone or with your group of friends. The apartments shared between the seven of you had an open-door policy, welcoming heartbreaks, laughs, boredom, and overall debauchery with wide arms and open cabinets. Seokmin didn’t ask any questions when he walked into your apartment last week and saw you left alone in the darkness, nursing a bowl of your comfort instant ramen, your body hidden underneath an oversized blanket. You didn’t ask any questions when he joined you in your reality tv show marathon, grabbing a blanket from your ottoman, letting the fabric swallow him whole when he settled on your couch. Neither of you said anything, sitting in a comfortable silence, your brains turned off from the stress of the week.
He knew he didn’t need to ask anything; he knew you would come to him eventually, when you were ready. 
He secretly hoped your heart would do the same.
“Did you want a drink?” your voice brings Seokmin back to reality. You were at your fridge, pulling out transparent green glass bottles. “I know you didn't get to finish yours earlier.” 
“I thought you were tired,” Seokmin ignores the question, instead looking at you incredulously.
After you open the bottles, you bring the cold bubbly liquid to your lips, walking across your kitchen island to bring Seokmin the other. “I said I was bored, not tired. There was nothing to do, just a lot of loud drunk kids.”
“That’s most frat parties, you know.”
“Yeah. I don’t know why I keep letting Yves drag me to them,” you sigh, staring past Seokmin but not focusing on anything in particular. 
“How about we play a game or something? Never have I ever?”
“You already know most everything about me! What fun would that be?”
“I bet there’s some things I don’t know about you!” While you and Seokmin had known each other since freshman year, spending most of your time together, you kept yourself guarded. Only letting Seokmin in when you were comfortable, prepared for the onslaught of judgment - which never came. Seokmin had been nothing but understanding, a warm breeze in an otherwise cold world. “How about we play 20 questions?”
You purse your lips, letting the beer bottle settle on your countertop as you think over Seokmin’s proposition. “Fine.”
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“What was your first impression of me?”
You giggle to yourself, settling on your rug in the living room, thinking back to when you first met Seokmin during freshman orientation. Your knees touch his, bumping into each other as you reminisce. “What was my first impression of the goofball who followed me around like a lost puppy?”
Seokmin laughs, lighting up the room, making happiness bubble to the surface of your skin. You join in his laughter as he says, “Hey! Two lost people is better than one! Would you have not wanted me to follow you around because look at us now!”
“You’re right. Who knew that little goofball would end up being one of the best people in my life?”
“Remember during the social, Mingyu busted his ass trying to show up Minghao at b-boying?”
“Yeah and we had to help him nurse his ego in the dorm hallway?”
You and Seokmin had been inseparable that weekend, from his first awkward “Do you know where the Admin building is?” to your last “I guess I’ll be seeing you around campus”, you two finding your way back to each other come the first semester. With you two living in adjacent dorm buildings, it was easy to catch up for lunch, walk each other to class and meet in the communal study rooms. Mingyu happened to live in the same building as Seokmin and Jinsoul was your freshman year roommate. Soon, your group during the lunch break grew to include Haseul, Minghao, and Yves and solidified during sophomore year. They all held a special place in your heart, but none like Seokmin and they all knew it. Life was easier with Seokmin; midterms never seemed as difficult with his guiding light, heartbreaks never felt as lonely with his warmth and bad decisions never were so irreversible with his love.
Seokmin was and will always be your home — your light at the end of the tunnel. 
The laughter between you two dies down, an easy silence falling in the air. It isn’t until you calm down that you ask the next question, “Okay my turn.” You bring a serious expression to your face, shifting the tone from the previous lighthearted atmosphere. “Is it better to love & lose or never love at all?”
“Oh, you’re getting philosophical on me now?”
“No better time than at 1 am on a Friday night, tipsy with my best friend.”
You see Seokmin slightly wince, something that happens in a blink of an eye before it’s replaced with a pensive expression, his lips jutting out in thought. You don’t have time to point it out before he’s answering, “Isn’t it better to love & lose? I mean, what’s a world without love?” You think on his words, albeit too long as he voices, “Why? Do you feel different?”
“Personally… yeah,” you mutter. You speak a little louder, confiding to Seokmin, “It might be everything that happened with Jaehyun but I can’t see how I can be thankful for giving him my love.” 
“You… loved him?” Seokmin murmurs quietly, unable to mask his surprise. 
“Not exactly, but is it embarrassing how fast I fell for him?”
No…” Seokmin trails off, his lips in a thin line, almost like he’s trying to keep himself from saying something he wants to. It’s faint, but you notice.
“What do you want to say?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re hiding something.”
“No I’m not,” he repeats, adamant. 
“Yes you are!” you smile before continuing, “C’mon, just tell me!” You begin to poke Seokmin’s side, a prominent offensive move in your arsenal. Seokmin giggles, trying to move away from the stimulation of your jabs, but is unsuccessful as you reach over and begin your attacks on his left side.
“Y/N stop!” His demand comes out broken as he tries to catch his breath, unable to break his fits of laughter.
“Not until you tell me what you’re hiding!”
Your assault continues, your giggles getting louder, probably annoying your neighbors. Neither of you are able to catch your breath, until Seokmin suddenly grabs hold of your wrists, bringing your back to the cushion of your rug, effectively pinning you to the ground.
Your laughter dies, the room becoming dead silent, only your ragged breaths filling the air. Your chest is heaving, your lungs trying to catch the precious air around you. With Seokmin straddling your waist, it isn’t until your breathing finally slows do you realize that his face is inches away from yours. His breath is audible, face red from the commotion. 
You’ve never really looked at Seokmin this close, his mole standing out on his cheek. You notice every pore, every freckle and every line, all of it accumulating into the beauty of his face. His eyes are soft as he looks at you. The tension is unmistakably palpable, making your skin hot underneath his touch. You glance down at his lips, the curves and various shades of pink accentuating against his tan skin.
Before you can think much about it, you’re suddenly kissing him. 
And just as quick, he’s pulling away from you, eyes wide. He looks at you as if you might break, like fragile glass ready to crack at any moment. 
“Are you sure you want this?” Seokmin is sincere, voice woven with care, loosening your own heart strings. “I don’t want you to do something you’re going to regret in the morning,” he whispers, speaking softly, trying not to overstep his boundaries. His thought to put you first was the last undoing of the tangled mess of woven string in your heart, unraveled and exposing yourself to him. 
“I’m sure, Seokmin. I want you.”
You don’t get to finish your sentence before Seokmin’s lips are back on yours, swallowing your last breath.
His lips are softer than you imagine and taste of mint and whiskey, combining to create something that was uniquely Seokmin. The hairs stand up along your body, your senses being invigorated by Seokmin’s attention to your lips. Shivers run down your body from his kisses alone and once he starts trailing along your jaw and neck, your skin lights fire, igniting the burning desire within you. 
His hands leave your wrists, bringing them to your torso, keeping you close against him as your hands immediately cling to his neck, breathing heavily. He runs small circles along your skin, making you go dizzy.
Panting, you manage to whisper through your short breaths, “Should we take this somewhere that, you know, isn’t my living room floor?”
Seokmin keeps his attention on your neck as he responds between kisses, “I don’t know. I was ready to take you right here.”
“Do you want me to blow my back out?”
“Oh, you’ll be getting your back blown out no matter where you are.. so it’s really up to you.” You can feel him smile against your neck with a small nip. You moan at his words, his confidence making you quiver. This kind of arrogance isn’t something you’re used to seeing on Seokmin, but you can’t deny that it looks good on him, easily molding you like clay under his fingers. 
You play it cool, though, or you hope, at least. “I’d rather not have sex with you on my living room rug.”
“Fair enough.”
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SMUT WARNING !
As soon as you shut the door, Seokmin finds his hands all over you, bringing you back to his mouth. One of his hands lands on your waist, kneading at your skin underneath your crop top, slightly lifting the fabric. He held on tight, not wanting to let you go, afraid of you disappearing from his grasp. He can’t help but think this is all a dream — his ears ringing with your whines, his fingers grazing your goosebumps, it was everything he’d fantasized about. 
“Seokmin…” Your voice sounds sweet in his ears, blissful, a desire dripping from it that he’s never heard from you before. 
“What is it?”
Your breath on him is hot, heavy against his skin. “Can we hurry this up because I need you,” you sigh, a small teasing smile playing against your lips. Your hands were grabbing at his clothes desperately, the tug and pull making Seokmin’s head spin. He lets out an airy chuckle, pulling you closer.
Seokmin leads you to your bed, your back hitting the mattress as he runs his hands along your thighs, still leaving kisses along your neck. He trails along the length of your body, down your neck, your clothed chest, your stomach, leaving languid kisses. He was in no rush, wanting this night to last as long as possible, even if it was already two in the morning. He could have you underneath him for hours, your hands pulling at the strands on his head.
He reaches the bottom of your shirt, playing with the hem, leaving open mouthed kisses along your stomach. “Can I?” He asks, referring to your crop as he looks at you, eyes meeting yours. He didn’t want to do anything out of comfort zone, feeling lucky enough to be in this position. As much as the flirty banter made both of your positions clear, he wanted to give you any opportunity to back out if you were ever uncomfortable with crossing the imaginary boundary of your friendship. 
You nod and slowly, Seokmin begins to lift your top, revealing your torso. It took everything in him to not confess to you right then and there, the alcohol flowing in his system removing the filter in his mind. He wanted to kiss you all over, sing sweet praises, tell you how much he’d always wanted this and more, how he’s been in love with you since that freshman orientation weekend — everything that’s been on his mind these past two years.
But he settles with a “God, you’re so beautiful,” hoping that you’d recognize the whiskey lacing his words instead of the yearning.
“Why are you acting so surprised? You’ve seen me in a bikini before!”
He has seen you in a bikini and Seokmin had to take a cold shower when he rinsed the chlorine off of his body for the day, hoping you hadn’t noticed his lingering eyes.
“Can’t a guy just compliment his best friend’s naked body before he fucks them?”
He’s also hoping that you don’t notice how hard it was for him to say that, disguising his wince with a teasing smile.
You begin to unbutton your jean shorts, your hands dancing around the waistband of the material. “Are you actually going to fuck me or are you just going to talk about it?”
Oh, you were going to be the death of him. He fears that you know that.
“I should’ve known you were going to be a brat,” Seokmin mutters, still loud enough for you to hear as he pulls down your shorts down your legs. He’s met with a visible wet patch on your black underwear, which almost takes him out right at that moment. The damp fabric is stuck to your cunt, like a second skin. “Fuck.”
“What?”
“You’re so wet,” Seokmin responds, getting closer to the gap between your legs, blowing puffs of air from his words, making you shake from the stimulation. 
“Is that a bad thing?” He can hear the insecurity in your voice, the confidence from earlier breaking with you slowly pulling your legs together. Seokmin counteracts this action, bringing your legs apart and opening yourself up to him once again. He plants a soft kiss on your inner thigh and he feels the tension release from your body, welcoming his touch.
He looks up at you earnestly. “Of course not. It’s hot.” He toys with your panties, waiting for your approval to continue.
“You can take them off, Seokmin.”
That was all Seokmin needed, peeling your underwear off. 
Seokmin thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. Seeing you bare, spread open for him and only him, was something he’d never believed would happen to him in this lifetime. He’s awestruck at your beauty, only able to respond by kissing your thighs repeatedly, your moans only encouraging him. 
He lowers himself close to your pussy and licks a slow, long stroke along your bud. You grab at his head instantly, a whine coming out of you. He circles your folds, teasingly slow, savoring every moment he has between your legs. You taste sweet, more enticing than any of Seokmin’s dreams. His hands took purchase on your waist, pulling you closer to him when you’d steer away. Your arousal builds and he’s quick to flit his tongue against your clit.
“Fuck! Have you always been good at this?” you choke out, the question coming out broken and breathy, a moan following.
Seokmin smiles against you, laughing quietly, the vibrations tickling against his lips. His pride was swelling, hearing you, the person he’s been in love with for two years now, cry for him. The feeling is making him insatiable, the desire to make you cum overriding any other thought in his mind. Your fingers that were in his hair started to pull harder, fervid as the pleasure overtook you. 
The ache in between his legs, his dick squeezing in between the fabric of his jeans, started to become excruciating. Seokmin slowly grinds against the mattress, searching for any relief for his own hard-on. It proves to be useless, his arousal moving three steps forward and one step back each time you moan his name. His face was covered in you as you jerk against him, riding out the sensations.
He ghosts his fingers to your entrance, hovering over it, teasing you with the prospect of having them inside of you. He keeps his fingers where they are until you wail, begging for them.
“Seokmin, stop teasing…” your voice trails, punctuated with a gasp, from Seokmin slipping his fingers inside of you.
He didn’t need any lubrication, you were dripping enough for him. The sounds that were coming out of your cunt were lewd and it only turned Seokmin on more, blood rushing to his cock and the strain against his jeans becoming even more unbearable to ignore. He can feel you clenching around his fingers; he knows you’re close. Once he reaches the bumpy surface of your g-spot, your muscles tense even more and your breath hitches, your legs squeezing Seokmin.
“Let go for me,” he whispers with a kiss to your clit. A second later, you’re coming undone, back arching off of the mattress. Your walls pulse against his fingers, making his cock twitch. His eyes were transfixed on your figure, watching you fall apart because of him. You were beautiful, this he always knew to be true, but the image of you tensing around him and cumming against his fingers would be engraved in his mind for the rest of his life. 
You begin to come down from your high, Seokmin kissing your inner thigh, eyes shining with awe as he continues to slowly pump in and out of you. You look down at him, relaxing your hands that were once gripping his hair with superhuman strength. He didn’t mind, though. He never minded anything when it came to you, especially since he knew that he was the reason for the overwhelming pleasure.
“Oh my god… Seriously, where did you learn to eat pussy like that?” you breathe out, still trying to catch your breath. 
“I don’t know,” Seokmin chuckles as he slowly pulls his fingers out of you. “I guess I’m just a natural.”
You sit up, reaching for Seokmin’s chin as you bring his lips to yours, taking his breath away. He's completely intoxicated by you, the alcohol wearing off and being replaced by your allure. It still amazes him how you have him trapped under your spell, wrapped around your finger — and you don’t even know it. Seokmin is so lost in your kiss, he doesn’t realize that he’s now on his back with you straddling him, your hands fumbling with his zipper.
“Let me take care of you,” you coo, your lips still close to his, brushing against them softly.
It pains Seokmin, the thought of your mouth around his length, his body shivers with the image in his mind. “I’m going to be honest, while I’d love to have you sucking me off, I’d cum in 30 seconds,” he confesses. “I need to be inside of you. Now.” You smile so bright, so enchanting, Seokmin is already seeing stars when you kiss him again, only breaking the kiss to take off his pants and underwear and he removes his shirt.
“Do you have a condom?” he asks, lingering on your body as you remove your bra.
“There’s one inside my nightstand.”
Once Seokmin rolls the condom down his length, your body hovering over him, he finally realizes that this is actually happening. This might not be the way he thought it would ever happen, but he doesn’t have much time to think about it before you’re sinking down on him, enveloping his cock in your heat with a curse. 
You pause, eyes screwed shut as you mentally curse. Tears threaten to fall, pooling to the side of your eyes. Seokmin sees this and panics, immediately sitting up, rubbing soft circles on your cheek. “Hey, hey, are you okay? What’s wrong?” He speaks softly, comforting, afraid that you would crack.
You shake your head, finally opening your eyes to look at him. “It’s nothing, it’s just…” 
“Just what?”
“I just had to adjust. You’re…” you pause, thinking carefully on your words, “much bigger than I anticipated.”
Seokmin can’t help but feel smug. He can feel you clenching around him, squeezing the life out of his cock. He can’t hide his smirk, but he’s quick to give you a tender kiss, feeling you relax on top of him. “Just relax. You set the pace,” he soothes and you nod in response.
He stays sitting up as you slowly start to rock back and forth on his lap and Seokmin is already seeing stars, holding back moans. You start slow and easy, setting a rhythmic pace, building pleasure and you lean your head on his shoulder. “Fuck, Seokmin.”
“What is it, baby?” The pet name slips out before Seokmin can catch it. He mentally curses, hoping you don’t notice. It tastes sweet on his tongue, like it was meant to come out of his mouth. 
“You feel so good,” you moan, punctuating the statement with a clamp on his cock.
“I can say the same for you.” It was embarrassing how close Seokmin already was, completely drunk on you. Every squeeze, every whine brought him closer to his dissolve; it took every ounce of Seokmin’s self-control to not let go right there. It took everything in him to not confess, tell you that this was everything he’d ever dreamt of, that he was helplessly and completely in love with you. Seeing you drunk on him, on his cock, was shattering all of his resolve.
“Seokmin, I’m so close,” you whine.
Thank God, Seokmin thinks. His hands that were on your waist guide you, bouncing you up and down on his cock, helping you reach your high. “C’mon, baby, you can do it.” Fuck, I’ve got to stop saying that… 
He feels your nails dig into him, creating crescent moons and threatening to break skin as the tension that was building in your body starts to snap, an overwhelming amount of electricity coursing through your veins. Seokmin’s willpower is left on a thread, feeling your velvet walls tense around his cock, he’s close to his own climax. Once he’s looking at you, seeing your pleasure wash over you, your eyebrows furrowed and a symphony of moans releasing from your mouth, he’s done for. His orgasm crashes against him and he grips your waist tightly, keeping your body at a steady pace as he empties inside of you. 
You're both left panting, bodies spent and going still. All that’s left in the air is your breath and the humidity as you both come down from your highs. Seokmin doesn’t know what comes over him, but the overwhelming need to kiss you takes over his body. He doesn’t think, just reaches up and pulls you to his lips, kissing you passionately until his thoughts come back to him.
Well, where do we go from here?
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vagabond-umlaut · 7 months
Text
Sojourn In The Sun
Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader; Arranged Marriage; Childhood Friendship To Complicated Feelings™️; Fluff; Angst; Canon-Compliant; Contains Manga Spoiler; Satoru & Reader Are So Cute, So Honest And So Kind-Of-Happy With Each Other Here– I Love Them!; Silly Jokes Are Their [& My] Coping Mechanism; Takes Place Between JJK 221 & 236.
Oneshot From Series: One Day, Three Autumns
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"You. Baked. This. For. Me."
"No, Satoru. A stork flew in through ths kitchen window and dropped this bloody cake on that table."
"But don't they deliver babies or something? Plus, isn't that window a tad too tiny for such a big bird?"
"I guess, the stork must've dropped you on your head while delivering you to your parents, you know?"
A beat passes in response to your remark, before Satoru erupts into a fit of chortles and you shake your head with a huffed chuckle. Getting up from where you were hunched over the countertop, nibbling on an omelette and scrolling through your mobile, Satoru watches your face gleam in fondness in the late morning light, as you amble over to him.
Very messy hair. Ratty old clothes. Sleepy yet shiny eyes— His cheeks hurt from the sheer joy bubbling in his chest at this sight before him.
"Seriously, sweetness? Storks?" he asks, lifting his arm then dropping it to wrap round your shoulders as you reach him and snuggle into his side – only to catch hold of the hem of his huge sweater, and squeeze yourself into it, your tiny fingers clasping round his back as your head emerges at the top and you move to nuzzle into his neck, teeth biting cute little nips on the skin there.
If it was even two months back, Satoru reckons he would have been a hell lot stunned, seeing you give your affections so blatantly– that too at a place outside your shared bed, outside the darkness of the night.
But... It no longer is two months back. It is now. Not only in day, date, time. But also in the irreversibly mutated fashion the earth rotates on its axis everyday in the man's eyes. New experiences. New allies. New absences. New nightmares...— Everything's different from how it was before that chilly October night— Your husband deems it to be not an awful lot strange to see you too like this. The world is not the same as before; to survive, you too must change to adapt to the change, must you not?
Lips brushing your forehead once before dashing away, he asks in a soft yet humorous tone, "Too tired to give a reply, are we now, huh?"
"Not really," you hum, your words punctuated by a yawn you're quick to suppress; you resume, "I know only two birds which are said to be used in sending parcels and stuff. One, messenger pigeon– but they are too small to carry a cake like that. Two, stork– stories do say they were used to deliver babies – so I thought delivering a cake would be a piece of cake for them, heh!" You shoot him a grin, eyes crinkling at the corners into lovely half-moons, "Pretty funny and punny, ain't I?"
"Of course, sweetness. You are all three," Satoru is quick to agree with a nod— happy wife = happy life; plus, it's not like he's lying to you— A shadow of confusion falls on your face— Deciding to deal with it later, for the sake of the question weighing on his mind at the moment, the man repeats his ask from earlier, "You really really baked this for me?"
You return a nod, hints of a smile lurking in the shape of your lips.
"But why?"
Whatever happiness might've beginning to bloom on your features, it withers away– Your husband smacks himself internally for employing such a tone: So weak, so much so that it makes you peer up at him in concern he has only ever seen on you after a particularly bad mission.
So weak, so that it makes him hope you don't think him to be any less than 'The Strongest'— any less than being capable of standing beside you, protecting you, being worthy of you.
A pair of chapped lips plant themselves on his cheek. "Just because I wanted to bake a cake for you, 'Toru!" you explain with a giggle, albeit its subdued quality doesn't go past his eye, as you move a bit away to press a swift kiss on his other cheek; fingers drawing lazy patterns on his scalp and massaging the roots of his hair.
"You've always done too much for me and everyone else– Thought of returning the favour once, although I doubt it can ever match yours... Also, haven't you always wanted to eat a cake baked by yours truly?"
He has.
He so, so has.
Ever since the day you baked some muffins for him in the microwave oven of the school kitchen– him, a grumbling mess thanks to his all-too-familiar migraine and those old geezers– you, another grumbling mess thanks to your all-too-familiar insomnia and those annoying AF exams—
Satoru never imagined he could taste a sweet dish made by you ever again in his life, for the past ten years or so— given how the morning after that night you declared you would never bake again: "uff, that is too fuckin' tiring and boring!" and how every next time he came with a migraine to your door, you pointedly ignored his whining for you to bake him something, choosing to grab the warm and cold compress instead and give him a massage, following the manuals kept in stack-over-stack on your table—
Even during his teenage years, then later as an adult, the sorcerer has always missed your baking, but seeing you care for him in ways much too characteristically 'you'... he decided to pay no mind to such dumb wishes, he knows you'll never fulfill in this lifetime.
Except now you've fulfilled them and your husband doesn't know any response fitting enough to thank your efforts and thoughts through.
Throwing the cake a sideways glance, he brings his focus back to you gazing at him, to the eagerness reflecting in your irises. His lips tilt up into a smile, obeying a mind of their own.
"Blue velvet cake with white frosting... you sure do know how to make me happy, don't you, sweetness?" he muses out loud, carefully noting the warmth creeping up your neck into your cheeks and ears, "But, so much for a thanks... there must be another reason behind this, right?"
Feeling the tiny burst of air hitting him from your quiet exhale, Satoru lets you maneuver him towards the kitchen until he's leaning with his back against the marble island and you're nestling even closer to him.
A palm glides cautiously over the planes of his back.
Almost as if the man in front of you is a glass figurine–
Almost as if you're fine with him being a glass figurine.
So easy to read.
So easy to hurt.
So easy to care for with the gentlest of touches and softest of smiles, the look in your eyes tells every one of his six eyes– the innumerable chips and cracks in his very essence be damned—
You poke his cheek, a knowing twitch in your lips.
"You rarely ever cuddled me in bed before, yet now, every single night and day, I find you squeezing me with those arms and legs of yours..." Satoru's eyes widen. Your lips part in a fondly teasing grin. "Think why – really why– you hug me for warmth and don't hog the blankets; and you'll have your answer, 'Toru."
Birds shriek outside. Your mobile beeps thrice. Your omelette goes as frozen as poor Uranus on the countertop beside.
For the second time this cold day, the two of you break into laughter.
"And you'll have your answer, 'Toru!?!?" Satoru mimics you except in a soprano-esque shrill voice. "Who the fuck do you think we are, huh? A pair of lovers in some Shakespeare-y play, baring our feelings to each other in the soft glow of the winter sun, or some stupid shit like that?"
Another chuckle breaks free from your chest at his words; the grin on his face widening, he watches you take a long breath then say, "Nope nope nope! The both of us are way too uncivilised to play any role like in Shakespeare's plays — but Satoru~" you drawl your vowels out; his heart beats a little faster in his chest– "I can never be as unrefined as you, going as far as to keep your wife waiting, while you ask question after question– and not eat the cake and praise it, like a good spouse should, you know?"
"Oh, is it so?" The man inquires, brow raised, before warping with you in his arms to where the cake's kept, and cutting a big chunk with the knife kept, gobbles it all up in one go.
The tilt of your lips betrays the disapproving click your tongue makes.
A very content hum escapes Satoru. "Your baking's something out of this world–no, galaxy, sweetness. I hope you know–"
He stills, focus stolen by the letters and number a bit far on the table–
Satoru's gaze snaps back to you, only to find the same smile on your face– so simple, so devious– complicated and thwarted by the small expressive tremor of your lips; your gaze moving away from him to a calendar on your left and his right, the very same which stopped him—
Grasping your chin in his frosting-covered fingers, he drags your gaze back to himself, tutting, "You aren't any better than me, wifey. You too lack the same manners and etiquettes I do— So, now— c'mon, c'mon, c'mon–" he says, not unlike a broken record, playing the same section of music until he makes you cave in from the annoyance alone, "Wish your darling husband 'Happy Birthday 'Toru!!', give him a big birthday smooch, and be the courteous wife, you aren't really, but think you're— Now, go ahead, go ahead, go–"
"No."
"No?" Satoru echoes, holding back a weary chuckle. Or sigh. The man doesn't know which. You nod with that same stubborn determination of yours, he has happened to love-hate-tolerate over the years. "Yeah. No. I don't wanna. Wishing you can only solidify the fact that today is December 7th–"
"I think, the clock striking twelve few hours back solidified it–"
"Which will go on to cement the fact we're only 17 days away–"
"I don't think the fact needs any cementing. It's cast in stone–"
"Is there no way we can be happy, Satoru?"
Your question startles him into a momentary stun – not 'cause of the solemnity packed into every word of it – but because it serves as the mirror image to the question them cursed voices in his brain ask him in the warmth of the day, in the chill of the night, when he finds Yuuji sitting by himself with no spiky black hair nor bright orange hair next to him; when he catches the ashtray on Shoko's table filled with way too many cigarette stubs; when he wakes up to see you sitting in the dimly lit storeroom, a faded photograph or a childish drawing in your hand; when he looks at the mirror and finds the reason behind every pain his cherished ones have suffered, staring right back at him—
"There is," Satoru says, willing his mind to shut up for once, to let him say what he wants to say for once– the clock is ticking a bit too fast–
"Don't think of today as anything more than that it's December 7. Not how many days it's been since Halloween. Not how many days it'll be before it's Christmas Eve. Just focus on the fact it's my birthday, and everything will seem a hell lot better, even if it's only for a short time."
You peer at him attentively, before narrowing your eyes a bit. "Never took you as the kind to ignore reality, y'know?"
Your husband cracks an amused grin. "Still, standing in the middle of a warzone and actively ignoring it is cooler than running away from it, isn't it?"
"Cooler and dumber," you correct with a teasing grin and a waggle of your finger– however, before he can gather any retort to your remark, he finds himself being pulled down by his collar, his lips colliding with your waiting ones— the ensuing kiss a little sweet, a little spicy, a little shy, a little hungry; but overall, very, very addicting. Satoru thinks you can never give him kisses enough to satiate him, even for a tiny while.
He is always going to stay this ravenous, this yearning for you. In this lifetime and every other that follows. He can't ever get enough of you.
A tiny pop! reverberates in the bubble round you two, as your mouth gently separates from his, though never strays anywhere far, resting only few millimetres away. Eyes drifting to his swollen lips for a beat, Satoru watches you look at him again, cheeks heated and stretched in a smile.
"Happy birthday, Satoru," you whisper, "Many, many happy returns of the day."
"Thanks," the man mumbles, running a careful thumb back-and-forth over your bottom lip– before something clicks to life in his mind. Your husband registers a slow smirk form on his face. "But I guess it'll be a happier birthday if ya promise to bake me a cake every now and then. What do you think, sweetness?"
"Nah!" your reply arrives, as if it's a reflex response and not one which requires some thinking, "Baking's too fuckin' tiring and boring– But..." you trail off for a beat, the nonchalance on your face morphing into a tenderness– You resume, "Why don't you try and find out by yourself if I will ever decide to bake a cake for you, every now and then, yeah?"
The weight of your words lingers in the gap in between for a second.
Accepting the weight with an eager grin, Satoru closes the gap, him inclining forwards to rest his forehead on yours.
"Sounds like a challenge, sweetness. Good thing, I'm more than ready to try my best to meet it."
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I do not own the characters used. Divider is by @cafekitsune. Please do not plagiarize or translate or repost this. Hope you enjoyed reading this! 😊
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artists-ally · 13 days
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Hello sweetheart 😘 I really really adore your writing so much ! So, I dare to send in an idea as well 🥰 maybe you're dating Harvey but he barely had time for you lately, so one time he wants to surprise you with dinner at his apartment and you enjoy your time together. Then you both end your evening with lovely passionate smut and lots of cuddles afterwards. In the morning he wakes up before you and takes time in admiring you, realizing how happy he is to have you ? Hope that's not too cheesy ❤️ thank you so much in advance!
{Warm} Reader x Harvey Specter
This has been sitting in my inbox for god knows how long. I thank you for your patience my dear. I love this idea so much, and this song Warm by SG Lewis is just perfect. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. P.S. nothing is EVER too cheesy for me to write <3
Word Count: 3,998
Warnings: Just some good ole fluff and smut, some very soft dom!Harvey.
Tagging: @rosedpetal @blacktreacle22
Summary: After a particularly brutal month in the office, you've noticed some changes. Harvey is just... not present. Rather than demanding his attention, you just simply float by, knowing eventually he'll return his negligence. And boy does he ever.
~~~~~
“Yn, you really just need to grow a set and tell Harvey he’s being a jackass,” Donna scolds through the phone.
I roll my eyes, “Donna, I told you before. I don’t mind. He’s focused on winning this case, and it quite literally is the life and death of this firm. So, while I appreciate your ‘words of affirmation’, I didn’t ask for them.”
“I know, I just hate to see you so neglected.”
“Oh please,” I pff, flipping my head to move a chunk of hair out of my eye. “Neglected is probably the last thing I am. I can entertain myself. I actually haven’t minded the space. Every once and a while it’s good to go back to the basics. I’ve finally learned how to take care of the plants, I can make a mean lasagna too. I’ve even gotten back into reading. For fun.”
“Sheesh, clearly something is wrong if you’ve been reading voluntarily.”
I snickered. “I don’t know, I saw a book recommendation on instagram and fell in love. Childhood penpals turned strangers, turned back to penpals and she found out he’s the world's biggest rock star and he’s been writing songs about her the entire time.”
“Sounds exactly like the fairytale mushy-gushy shit you love. How you found Harvey to fill those shoes I’ll never understand.”
“He’s just… I don’t know, exactly what I need? My life is perpetually disorganized and he’s too organized. We balance each other out. It just works, and I love our life. I love our dynamic, and I love him. Since he’s so busy, and I have the energy and mental space to, I don’t mind picking up the slack. Again, things will balance themselves back.”
Donna sighed, and I knew that flat line was on her lips. “I know, you’re always so insightful. Optimistic bitch.” I cackled a laugh. “But in all seriousness, Harvey needs you. You’re right, he is too organized. He needs you to unwind him. I know how he is, and he needs a kick in the ass every once in a while. So, if by the end of the week, he doesn’t come around a little, just push him. He’ll fold. Especially for you, and that ass of yours.”
A smile bloomed onto my face, the door of our apartment building coming into view. “Thanks Donna, I’ll let you know how tonight goes. Maybe I’ll stop by the office in the morning and bring the crew some coffee, a few bagels as well.”
“This is why you will always remain my favorite. Now go eat that Chinese food, you sexy son of a bitch.”
“How did you know I had Chinese food?” 
“Because I’m Donna.” Then the line went dead.
Psycho. My psycho, but still a psycho. 
I did indeed have a takeout bag hooked in my elbow filled with Chinese food. Sesame chicken and wonton soup for me, beef and broccoli with pork lo-mein for Harvey. I got a small order of pork fried rice and some scallion pancakes to share. I was about ten seconds away from crouching in an alley and eating myself into a coma. 
The city streets were just beginning to fill up with Friday night festivities. Those heading to lavish dinners or exotic clubs, dressed to the nines with pristine hair and outfits. I looked down at my beat up orthopedic sneakers that kept the never ending foot pain of being a museum tour guide at bay. Here I was, surrounded by the most eccentric and busy place on earth, with absolutely nothing to do.
And that felt amazing. 
I scurried up the steps to the apartment building, greeting our doorsman with a smile and a wave. He gave me one back, pulling open the big glass doors. The mild April chill vanished and the comfortable, still air caressed my cheeks. The elevator door chimed open, chimed closed, and ascended to the top. 
21… 22… 23… the floors climbed and climbed. What was I going to watch? The new season of Bridgerton was out, I could watch that. No, the next season can’t possibly be as good as Charlottes. Maybe a movie? Didn’t that second Dunne one come out? I’m not sure I understand the first one enough to comprehend the second. 
The ding sounds, and I step off, juggling my keys as I rattle off more ideas in my head. 
There's always The Big Bang Theory, maybe Two Broke Girls? Nah, I’ve seen those a thousand times. Maybe I should watch something new. No, nothing sounds interesting. I could try to read, but I don’t wanna risk spilling anything on my book. Once in third grade, I was eating a bowl of cereal in the morning, and I spilled the entire thing on my book. If You Give A Mouse A Cookie was never the same again. 
When the door opened, I toed off my sneakers, kicking them in the corner. I threw the keys in the bowl and hummed a song aimlessly. In the kitchen, I pried a plate out of the cabinet and began to spoon food onto my plate. I won’t tell Harvey, but I stole some of his lo-mein. 
“Yn,” a voice spoke. 
I spun so hard I knocked my hip into the kitchen island corner, a scream bubbling out. “Jesus fucking christ Harvey! You could warn me next time, fucking hell.” 
My heart thrashed in my chest, my eyes going a little wonky from adrenaline. I swallowed, bending at the waist to catch my breath.
“Sorry, my love,” he smiled, coming to raise me from my hunched over position. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“A simple text would’ve been lovely,” I sighed, rising to my full height. “What the hell are you doing…”
All words died on my tongue as I looked around. The table was decorated with a white cloth, candles skewed about. There were flowers in a vase on the counter, beside it a card with two small boxes. There was champagne chilling in a metal bucket of ice, a box of chocolate covered strawberries and cherries next to it. 
“Harvey, what’s all this for? Our anniversary isn’t for two months.”
He grinned, that smirk going right to my chest. “No, it’s not.”
“Then what's all… this?” I waved my hand around, noticing a few balloons blown up and taped to the archway. I somehow completely missed the rose petals lining the floor. 
“It’s because I love you,” Harvey grabbed my hips, pressing our fronts together. “You’ve been… dealing with me for weeks now. My absence, my constant mood swings and lashing out. And I know what you’re gonna say-”
“That I know you’ve been stressed and need some time to focus on the case?”
Harvey tilted his head, a flat expression on his lips. “Yes. That.” 
“It’s not a big deal, Harvey. I know how important work is to you, and I know that you’ve really needed to focus so the firm doesn’t crumble and-”
“But I need you to know that you are a thousand times more important than work,” he says, placing his palms on my cheeks. He kisses me softly, stealing the air from my lungs. “Then the firm,” another kiss.  “And anything that has to do with that hellscape. I love you, Yn. And I don’t know what I would do without your constant flexibility with my chaotic life. So this is a very small token of my appreciation. The first part, at least.”
I hummed against his lips, letting my arms lay across his shoulders. I kiss him deeply. “The first part?”
“Mhmm,” he nodded, hands falling down my back, a less than PG-13 flex of his hands on my ass. “First, I want you to open those little boxes. Then, we’re gonna eat and have some dessert.”
“I feel like there's more to this list,” I smile, making my way back to the counter to get our food. One second to the next, Harvey gripped my arm and pulled me back into his chest. I could feel his desire pressing into me. “Looks like I’m right.”
“You’re always right,” he whispered, breath tickling my ear. He kissed the side of my neck, leaving a little bite below my ear. “Go sit, I’ll get the food.”
A new thrill fueled my body, propelling my steps to the dining room. I sat, playing with the end of the table cloth as Harvey brough everything over. The champagne, the card, the boxes and the food. Before he made his way to his seat, his palm cupped my neck and he tilted my head back. His deep, lust filled eyes locked with mine before he kissed me again. 
“Open whichever you’d like, darling,” he sat opposite me, tucking the napkin across his lap. 
“Just because I did what anyone would for their love doesn’t mean you need to shower me with gifts, Harvey,” I said, giving him a pointed look. 
“And if I bought them just because I wanted to?” 
Point taken. I read the card, a picture of a polar bear wearing sunglasses on a beach with a coconut in its hand plastered on the front. 
Classy. It made me giggle nonetheless.
To my Yn,
Thank you. I’m sorry. I love you. Thank you for being here, even when I wasn’t. I’m sorry for my absence, I promise I’ll be more conscious of my time spent at the office. I love you, more than I ever thought I’d ever be able to love anything. You are everything I’ve always wanted, and everything I never knew I’d need. After this last month, I didn’t understand just how badly I craved you. Your smile, your laugh, your warmth. The taste of you in the morning, and those adorable snores at night. No matter how many times I do it, I’ll never get tired of kissing you. Never tire of taking your breath away. I’ll never get sick of you being the first thing I see when I wake up, and the last thing before I sleep. 
You are forever entwined in my soul, Yn. And I wouldn’t dare to imagine it otherwise. 
I love you. <3 Harvey
I looked up at him, tears lining my eyes. He just winked at me, fork scraping his plate as he shoved a mouthful in. 
“Fuck you for that,” I sniffled, brushing away the tears as I blinked. “That was so uncalled for, you didn’t need to do that to me. That’s so unfair.”
He smiled, “I know you love that shit. And before you ask, Donna didn’t come near me when I was writing that. It all came from up here.”
I laughed as he touched the side of his head. “Good to know all those years at Harvard Law taught you something other than corporate jargon.”
“Open the boxes, little devil,” he sipped his champagne, nudging the boxes towards me. 
Both were a dark blue velvet, unlabeled. They were closed with a silver ribbon. The first one I grabbed was about the size of a book, and something rattled inside. I undid the bow, lifting the lid. Inside was a Kindle. I gasped, pulling it out and looking it over. 
“Harvey,” I grinned, mouth falling open. “You did not.”
“But I did,” he smiled brightly. “Unlimited.”
I could jump his bones from across the table. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”
“Well, after you find out I got you a case, a Pop Socket, and one of those stands with the remote clicker so you don’t even have to hold it, you might love me a little more.” I squealed, pushing out of my chair as I crashed into him. We nearly tipped backwards. Harvey laughed, rubbing my sides as I latched onto him. “I knew you’d appreciate this. I know we haven’t been together much, but I remembered you showed me a video of some girl who had one.” “You remembered that?” A new set of tears choked my voice. 
“Of course I did. And I also remember you telling me that if I bought you another set of earrings you’d use them to pierce my ears, so that option went out the window.”
I swatted his chest, Harvey’s smile easy as he eased me off of him. “This is perfect, thank you so much.”
“Of course, my dear. Now open the next one.”
What could be better than a Kindle Unlimited? With a stand AND a remote to turn the pages for me. Harvey has no idea what he’s done, I’ll literally never get out of bed again. 
Practically ripping the box in half, I take off the lid and peer inside. 
I blink a few times, looking from him to the box. “My passport?”
“Yup.”
“I feel like there is something I’m not getting here.”
“There is.”
“Are you gonna tell me or make me guess?”
“I’m not that mean,” he rolled his eyes. 
“I mean you have been ignoring me for the past month,” I feigned being upset, letting out a little yelp when he threw a piece of broccoli at me. “You're literally four years old.”
“We’re going to China.”
Everything stopped moving. I dropped the box, my small, navy blue passport skittering across the floor. My ears buzzed, my fingers buzzed. “I- What?”
Harvey grinned. Fuck, I missed that grin. “We’re going to China. We won the case last night, and I am desperate for some time with you. You’ve always wanted to go, so why not now? I have everything set up. We’re gonna stay in the mountains, we’re gonna go hiking and see some shows. I also know you’ve wanted to-”
“We’re going to China?” I had to make sure I heard him right? I’ve been learning the language for years now, engrossed with their rich culture and history. The cuisine, the art, the music… everything. Had I been in a different timeline, I would’ve moved there. 
“Yes, my love. We’re going to China. Two weeks.”
“Two weeks?” My eyes nearly fell out of my skull. “I can’t take two weeks off of-”
“Yn,” he cut me off, knowing I was going to spiral into a never ending list of reasons of 'why this and why that'. “It’s all been taken care of. All you have to do is pack a bag and get you cute ass in my car on Sunday morning. Don’t worry about anything else.”
“But-But Harvey… what the FUCK? WE’RE GOING TO CHINA? Oh my god, I have to call Donna.”
“Can you call Donna tomorrow? I have other things I’d like to do before you go blabbering to her about how amazing and awesome I am for planning this.”
I eyed him suspiciously. “Donna planned this, didn’t she?"
“She did find the panda place. And the art festival. But everything else was my doing. You can applaud now.” Cocky, arrogant son of a bitch. My cocky, arrogant son of a bitch, but one nonetheless.
I looked at him, dumbfounded. He did all this for me, just because he had a crazy workload. I feel like it should be the opposite, me pampering him, congratulating him on his huge win. Not him fueling my book obsession and planning my dream trip. 
But it was yet another reason I loved him more and more every day. He just did these things, without prompting. Without need. He felt like he was neglecting me, leading to… all of this. 
We ate our dinner, chatting about anything other than the case. I asked about it, twice, and he completely side-stepped my attempt. I wanted to know, but if he didn’t want to talk, I wouldn’t push. I told him the plot of this terrible Mafia romance book I finished earlier in the week, and he listened to every grating, awful point I made about it. All with a dopey smile on his face. 
Harvey cleared the plates, setting them in the sink. He brought more champagne, the strawberries and the cherries. In a calm silence, we devoured them, eyes raking over each other. I risked a look below the table, seeing just exactly where he wanted the next phase of the night to go. 
“You looking at it makes it worse, you know,” Harvey leaned back in his chair, my legs propped in his lap. He stroked his hand up and down, fingers dipping into one of the holes in my jeans. 
“Good,” I smiled, a sinful intent in my eyes. 
He looked from my smile to my eyes and back down. With a curse, he threw my legs off his lap and pulled my chair close to his. Harvey enveloped his mouth with mine, the sweet taste of chocolate mixed with the sour berry and tarte champagne. Every flavor on his tongue became my own. 
I was in his lap the next second, legs folded against his thighs. Harvey kept me firmly planted. Steady. He wouldn’t dare let me fall. I got lost in him, suddenly aware just how long it had been since I truly had him. Truly tasted him. Truly craved him.
He stood, taking me with him. The familiar route to our bedroom whirled by. I landed on the bed with a soft bounce, tugging on the collar of his shirt until he laid on top of me.
“So demanding,” he whispered on my lips. I wrapped my legs around his hips to emphasize my need. “Fuck… I love it when you get like this.”
“You made me this way, Harvey,” I pleaded, eyes catching him. 
“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to give you what you deserve,” Harvey sighs. It’s not heavy, but it’s noticeable. “Let me take care of you, Yn.”
“I just need you to-”
“I know, my love. Let me worship you. Treat you how you deserve. You’ve been so patient with me, now let me return the favor.”
Well, I’d be stupid to deny him.
Delicately, he kissed down my torso, lifting my shirt over my head and throwing it for tomorrow's problem. He removed my socks, then my jeans. From ankle to knee, he kissed and bit my skin, making me squirm against the sheets.
Every nerve ending in my body was on fire, the tips of my fingers and toes pulsing with anticipation. With the last remaining pieces of my clothes gone, he spread my legs, kneeling to the ground. 
The sight of Harvey Specter on his knees between my thighs was… empowering. Not that he hasn’t tasted me with his tongue, I’ve just… always been on top. Never so… exposed.
A heady sigh left my lips, body going lax with the first pass of his tongue on me. I clenched my legs against his ears, muffling my whines. He pushed them against the mattress, eyes pinning me as he sank his teeth into the muscle of my thigh. 
“You know better than to hide those pretty moans from me, my love.” Yes, I do know better. “Scream my fucking name if you want.”
I just might. 
He made quick work of me, practiced movements easily sending me up and up and up. He’d slow back down, torture me with more bruising marks on my thighs while I writhed and begged for him to let me release. I arched up off the bed when he added his fingers.
I was so close, a month's worth of pent up desire threatening me all at once. My mind and body were on fire. I couldn’t hold off any longer. I chase that high, circling my hips against his face. His hands, firmly planted on my inner thighs, I shook, that month long ache finally subsiding before roaring back to life. 
When I thought he’d stop, he kept going. Around and around and around his tongue went. Teasing and sending an endless supply of pleasure through my body. 
“H-Harvey,” I gasped, my body up in flames over his never ending devotion.
“I’ll stop when I want to. Fuck Yn, you taste so sweet. Almost as sweet as hearing you beg for me to let you cum. Can you take one more?”
Again, I nodded, content to let him spend however long he wanted at my aching core. My second release came much sooner than the first. He didn’t bother teasing me, knowing it would ruin all his hard work if he stopped. With a few more sweeping passes, he licked me clean, sitting back on his heels to look at me. He wiped my cum off on the back of his hand, giving me a wicked grin.
“You are so fucking beautiful, all laid out for me to do as I please,” Harvey said, beginning to strip. 
“Please Harvey, have me. Any way that you like.”
He chuckled, kneeling over me. “I will, but like I said, I want tonight to be all about you.”
“Well I want you to fuck me.” I am not very good at being subtle. 
“How can I deny you when you ask so nicely,” he purred, closing our lips together, I parted my legs for him, desperate for the friction of his body on mine. His chest, his stomach, his hands lacing with mine. I needed all of him all over me. 
It didn’t take long for him to slip inside me, every inch of him stretching me in the most desirable way. I hummed as he stilled, his need clear in the way his arms shook to keep still. 
“Move, please please move,” I begged, threading my hand in his hair. With a reluctant drop of his head, he rolled his hips into mine, our bodies finally meeting in full. 
“I was trying to be gentle,” he reasoned. 
“Fuck gentle, I need you. I’ve missed you so much.”
“I know my love, I know.”
With each thrust into me, a new sensation bubbled inside me. My toes curled, my back bowed, my eyes fluttered shut. He quickened his pace, heavy breaths falling from his lips into mine. His air was mine. Every muttered curse and moan and praise went straight through me. He needed me as much as I needed him.
~~~~~
With my mind not fully awake, I lazily fling myself off my stomach and onto my back. My arm knocked into something hard, and I squinted against the morning sun. Oh, Harvey.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, crashing back down against the pillow. 
He chuckled, kissing the hand that accidentally hit him in the face. “It’s okay.”
“Are you going into the office?” I asked, still keeping my eyes closed. Man this bed is so comfy…
“No?” He said, a question in his tone. “Why would I?”
“Why else are you up so early?”
“I was just looking at you, my love. It’s been a while since I’ve just… looked at the love of my life. Taken the time to appreciate just how fucking stunning you are.”
My heart melted, a lovesick feeling welling up in my chest. I turned over, facing the handsome lawyer and grinned ear to ear. “I’m sure I look fabulous after last night.”
“You’ve never looked hotter. Lips swollen from mine, hair a mess from my hands… your body covered in my-”
“Okay,” I snatched his lips between my fingers, silencing his next words. “I did just wake up, at least let me shower before you destroy me again.”
“Only if I can quote on quote destroy you in the shower before I cook you breakfast and fuck you again on the counter.”
My eyes snapped open, meeting his blown out pupils. “You certainly have a vivid imagination for…” I looked over at the clock on the side of the bed. “... eight thirty-seven AM.”
“Wait till you find out I’ve been awake since six. With nothing to do but plot all the ways I could ruin you.”
I rolled my eyes playfully, offering my lips as a peace offering. He quickly accepted, kissing me deeply. “Man, I missed this.”
“More than you could ever know.”
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orobaxis · 1 year
Note
Hi omg I loved ur ominis work I’ve been dying for any drop of anything 2 do with him since the game came out. Could I request some established relationship ominis x reader fluff? Maybe they’re studying together or they’re hanging out in the undercroft? Tyyy🫶
i could recognize her by touch alone, by smell (i would know her blind) -
ominis gaunt x f!reader (hogwarts legacy)
what is a day in the life of ominis gaunt? a lot less games of gobstones than he wants, a lot more nagging to study for his owls, and a lot more love than he ever had
no plot, just vibes
words: 2393
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ominis has come to expect constants in his life. for one, every day he would find you waiting for him at the grand staircase, greeting him with a cheerful “good morning!” and looping your arm around his. he can never get used to the feeling of you being so close to him, feeling the heat radiating off your skin and smelling a scent that is so undoubtably you. he especially likes being able to be with you so early in the morning and having breakfast together.
it’s early enough that the great hall isn’t bustling with students yet; with a few early risers moving about here and there. you sit by the slytherin table beside him and help yourselves to some hearty breakfast.
“so,” ominis starts, “what have you got planned for us today?”
“hm, not much,” you tell him, “we do need to get that herbology homework done, though. i don’t want to spend any more time with it than i have to.” you look around the great hall, “sebastian didn’t want to come?”
ominis sighs. his friend has been…odd lately. you are both concerned for him, sebastian is getting more desperate to find a cure for anne, his twin sister. it also doesn’t help that the new fifth-year student has been following him around, seemingly encouraging his search and directing him to research more on the dark arts. “no,” he replies, “well…he wouldn’t wake up when i tried to. i think he’s exhausted from some escapades he’s been doing with that new student…”
you make a disapproving sound at that. “i’m also wanting to send an owl to anne. maybe get her some treats from honeydukes from when we last went,” you ponder.
“i think she will appreciate that,” he tells you with a smile, and he can almost sense you smile back in gratitude. he feels you push him gently with your shoulder, affectionately resting your head on his shoulder before sitting back up to resume eating.
you have become a real constant in his life. ominis admits that it took him longer to warm up to you than with anne and sebastian in your first year, but when he did, he didn't just 'warm up', he melted. the feelings he has for you are stronger than the ones he has with the sallows, treating them as the siblings he never had (rather, the siblings he wishes he has). everything with you though is more intense, and before he knew it, he was falling hard and fast. he still wonders if your mind is a bit of a mess because you seem to feel the same way. despite this, ominis thinks he doesn't mind it one bit.
-
“the headmaster is acting quite odd today.”
you look up to see ominis with a curious look on his face. he plops down beside you with a sigh before pulling out his parchment and quill. you both agreed to meet up in the greenhouses to do your homework.
“what, you mean he's not his usual awful self?” you ask him with a raised eyebrow. he rolls his eyes at that, “no, that's not what i mean. i mean...his attitude is still a troll’s, but he was going on about bubotuber pus as moustache paste and whatnot...i couldn't understand him.”
"hmm, maybe he was just feeling particularly chatty today,” you remark, “and maybe gave us hints on what questions they will ask us in our O.W.L.S.”
"i doubt that," he huffs. he stands in front of his potting station, sighing when he realizes the venomous tentacula he planted seems to have wilted (it didn't try to reach and devour him), "is my venomous tentacula dead?"
"oh no, it's still alive," he hears you walk over to stand beside him, "just sulking a little, i think. you haven't visited the greenhouse in a bit and i think it got hungry, although it did try a weak chomp when i first arrived," you giggle when ominis makes a face, remembering the last time he came to check up on it, it started chewing on his robes. "nothing a few pieces of meat can't cure."
"good, because i doubt professor garlick would appreciate it if i turned in a decaying plant," he mutters in relief. "i would barely pass the O.W.L.S. this year, i doubt i would have any chances of finding a good job in the future."
"stop that," you reprimand him softly, moving to grab his hand and guide him away from the table. the venomous plant hisses from its spot, clearly not appreciating not being fed. "you're a smart wizard, ominis. one of the smartest. if not THE smartest--"
"now you're just making fun of me," he tells you half-heartedly, lips twitching up into a smile when he hears your giggle. your hand moves to ruffle his hair, but ominis quickly stops you with a gentle hand to your wrist. “don’t mess up my hair.”
“you have to let your hair down sometimes, ominis!” you exclaim, “i like seeing your hair all disheveled.”
ominis laughs but says nothing, dropping a quick peck on your wrist where your pulse point lies. he drops your hand and returns to his parchment and starts dictating, his quill writing down his words. he pretends not to hear the gasp you made and your flustered breathing as you return to your station to resume your homework.
"well?" he turns his head slightly to your direction, "just gonna sit there in shock?"
"shut up!" you exclaim, before returning to your homework. you work quietly while ominis dictates for his quill, enjoying the peaceful (as it can be, with ominis' venomous tentacula) atmosphere of the greenhouse, until ominis' quill stops writing resolutely.
"all done!" he says triumphantly.
"oh, i'm almost done too!" you say, hurriedly scribbling on your parchment. once you're satisfied with it, you start to clean up and put away your things. when you tell ominis that you're good to go, he extends his arm to you, his hand waiting, "let's go then."
you slot your hand into his and he tangles your fingers together as you walk out of the greenhouse.
-
not that professor binns minds, but ominis doesn't really hide how boring he finds history of magic. he would sit there beside you, his chin on his palm, with almost a relaxed smile on his face.
"you could atleast pretend to listen, you know," you tell him. ominis turns to you, and the smile on his face widens,
"why should i? this is the most boring class we have. i'd rather be playing gobstones."
"well, first of all, we will still get tested on the goblin rebellions of the 18th century," you remark, whilst also trying to stifle your yawns behind your hand, "and it wouldn't look good if we get like a 'T' in history of magic. and secondly, you're not at all good at gobstones! you always lose to me!"
"i doubt we would get a Troll in this class," ominis tells you nonchalantly. "and you only win because i let you! you can be such a sourpuss when you lose! i've seen you with sebastian and anne, and not to mention zenobia!"
"well, zenobia is a reigning champion at gobstones!"
with his chin still propped up on his palm, he uses his other hand to reach for the pocket of his robes, "here, have something sweet."
you can see that he is offering you a candy, probably something he got from professor ronen's class. trying to hide a grin, you ignore his outstretched hand and ask him teasingly, "what something sweet? a kiss?"
it's like you can almost see the moment ominis processes what you said, and you trace the flush from his neck to his face, until he becomes redder than a tomato. he huffs, tossing you the candy, mumbling under his breath, "shut up!"
when professor binns ushers everyone out of the classroom to look at ancient relics, you end up playing gobstones against ominis after all (you win again).
ominis pretends it bothers him, but you begin to suspect that there may be some truth to what he told you about letting you win. ominis however, may have lost the game, but hearing you laugh really makes it a win-win situation.
-
on your way to the undercroft, ominis stops you. “i have to go to my dormitory,” he tells you, “i left something there.”
“oh, alright,” you reply, “do you want me to come with you?”
he sputters in surprise at your question, “w-what?”
“to the dormitories?”
“no!” ominis flushes at the thought of you being in his dormitories, and in his bed? his cheeks reddening even more at the thought and his neck heating up in embarrassment, “no, i’ll be quick. i’ll see you at the undercroft.”
“are you sure?” you ask him. “the walk doesn’t bother me.”
“no, i insist,” ominis calms down now, the heat in his cheeks dissipating. you have known each other for some time now, yet he still couldn’t help being flushed with words that you say and the things that you do. he is entirely enamored.
“alright, if you say so,” you answered in a sing-songy voice, making him smile. “i’ll see you at the undercroft.” with any luck, you hope to see sebastian somewhere in the defense against the dark arts tower or hopefully even in the undercroft. you haven’t spent as much time with him as you used to, with him usually being too busy running off with the new student. you just hope he eventually comes back to his senses.
-
when he gets to the undercroft, you call him over to the sofa that you had conjured. ominis sits beside you, his eyebrows raising, "i thought you'd've conjured a desk or something. and start nagging me to study."
you roll your eyes. "well, i would...but i got sleepy. the undercroft isn't the best place to study you know, it's dark and i hate that i can't see anything--"
"that must be so terrible for you," he remarks, receiving a gentle slap to his chest.
"i didn't mean it like that!" you say defensively, "and i just thought i could take a short nap instead of studying. we did do a lot of studying this week."
"hmm, if by a lot, you mean, 'doing the very bare minimum and completing our homework', then i'd say we did quite the studying."
you cross your arms and glare at him playfully, "ominis gaunt, i'll have you know that i study too outside of school hours. i go to the library and read up just before going to bed. and what about you? how are you preparing for your O.W.L.S?"
"you mean to tell me listening to you read the books isn't going to be enough?" he jokes, laughing at your 'horrified' gasp. you both try to get as much work done since O.W.L.S are coming up closer by the day, and you would jokingly nag him to actually do some revising instead of 'making you read' books for him. he loves the sound of your voice, and you like the relaxed look on his face when he listens to you.
ominis had been thinking about giving you something. it is something he had been keeping. he showed it to sebastian, who had been telling him to give it to you for some time now. he had been a bit nervous, though, and decided that maybe today is the day he will give it to you.
"i have something for you," he starts, "that's why i went back to my dormitories."
you sit up in surprise, turning to him. "what? ominis, love, you know you don't have to give me anything--"
"i know," he tells you, "i want to."
in his hand, he offers you a necklace. you gasp, hands flying to your mouth in shock. it looks beautiful! so elaborate, and yet, simple, its sheer elegance shining within the dark halls of the undercroft.
"ominis...it's absolutely beautiful," you run your fingers on it, still in ominis' hand. "where did you get this?"
"an old lady in hogsmeade...turn around," he instructs, "i originally wanted to give you something that is a gaunt heirloom--
"ominis!"
"sebastian wanted me to, said it's more elegant. but...i didn't want to give you something from that horrendous family," he huffs, "i believe you deserve better than that. so, i took the heirloom and traded it for this one, the old lady seemed very happy and in awe of it."
"i know i'm not so good with words," ominis starts (he immediately hushes your protests), and i would only be teasing and sarcastic to you. but i hope you know...y/n, there isn't anything that i wouldn't do for you. i really hope you know that and if not, i'll prove it to you every day."
you sniff, trying to stop the tears from falling down your cheeks, "oh love, i do know that. and i want you to know that i would do anything for you too."
he clasps the necklace around your neck, running his hand softly on your neck and a bit further down, making you shiver in delight. "you might think me silly for saying this," he clears his throat, "but i think, it's you for me, you know. and it's silly since we're so young and..."
"ominis," you began, but he interrupts you--
"you may not feel the same way, but i really think it's you. i dream of you, you know. all i do, is dream of you."
you finally turn, reaching to grasp his hands in yours. "oh ominis, of course i feel the same! if you still have doubts, then i will have to do my best to make sure you know that. every day, i will remind you." you hands fly to touch the necklace, skin still tingling from where his touch burned you, "thank you so much. i don't know what to say...how could i ever repay you?"
ominis chuckles, "it's a gift, silly. i gave it to you without asking for anything in return. although,"
"hmm? what is it?" you ask.
"i wouldn't say no to 'something sweet'."
-
hope everyone is doing well! i finished the main story, 70 hours in! still have some side quests to finish <3
thank you so much for all your replies! it really warms my heart!
also if you sent a request and i have replied yet, please know that im working on it! <3
and sorry if there's a weird formatting, i was working on both pc and phone!
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koolades-world · 4 months
Note
Hi! I'm the same anon who commented about The moment the om cast realized they fell in love with you (part three)! Can I be called eclipse anon? Since you don't mind if I request now, then I'll do it! Please take your time & remember to rest though especially since school has started! I want to request a continuation but I want to check with you first! I really love your Demon brothers comforting their s/o after a particularly hard day at work post so could I request the same for Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon, and Solomon? Only if you don't mind of course!
OMG HII so sorry for the lateness so so sorry
of course I can do this :) working on the other thing you asked for rn too. my style has changed since I made the first one so it'll be written a little differently so hope you don't mind! I thought about trying to write the way I used to but I just decided to embrace the change to let show that I've grown!
also it's nice to have something to call you now!!
Demon brothers comforting their s/o after a particularly hard day at work (part two)
Diavolo
omg he would be the best to go to after a bad day! lots of hugs and anything you want
he thinks it might make you feel better if he gathered all of your favorite things in one place so after sending you off to get changed, he prepares
be ready for every favorite you've ever had in your living room
he'll also talk your ear off and do whatever it takes to see you smile
"Bad day, sweetheart?" Were the first words out of Diavolo's mouth as soon as you walked into the kitchen, where he was sat enjoying a cup of coffee.
"How'd you know?" You weakly smile at him.
"I've been preparing for this moment! Go take a shower, then come to the living room." He took your bag and hat from you, and gave you a quick hug.
"Alright. Thanks, Dia." You let him squeeze you to his chest and deposit you in front of the bathroom. He opens a nearby closet and removes a cute looking gift basket to hand to you.
"This is for you! I hope you like it." You gave him another hug and retreated into the bathroom with the basket. After closing the door and hearing him walked away, you decided to open the basket. Inside is an assortment of cute items and notes from Diavolo. This included a robe, an assortment of bath products, and some cute, sealed snacks. The note on the biggest piece of paper just told you to enjoy everything in the basket. The smaller ones were all notes of affirmations and him telling you how much he loved you. You smiled and decided to start your night routine.
Meanwhile, in the living room, Diavolo was transforming the space into a place he knew was going to turn your day around. He ordered all of your favorite foods and brewed your favorite hot drink. He gathered all of your favorite items, including your cutest stuffed animals and sat them together on the couch. The food arrived quicker than he expected, so he set it all on your coffee table and got plates and utensils. He sat down in the center of it all and quietly waited, excited to see your reaction.
When you left the bathroom, you were speechless. "Dia!" You exclaimed. He got up from where he was sitting and hugged you.
"I couldn't think of anything that would make you happier." You threw your arms around him and hugged him back as tightly as you could.
"I love it. You are the best! Thank you so much." You feel him sigh contently.
"I hate to see you upset, so if it means I have to do this everyday, I would." He lead you to the center where he was previously sitting. "Now, help yourself. This is all for you." He motioned to the food. You grin and before trying to decided what to eat first, you give him a quick kiss on the cheek. He was the best.
Barbatos
super attentive and super caring
lets you vent to him and offers solutions to your problems if that's what you want
anything you want, consider it done
understands if you don't want to go tomorrow and will do everything in his power to get you a day off but also not have it count towards using your sick days
Barbatos was busy cleaning when you arrived home; that wasn't unusual for him, or you. You would usually find him at some point during your routine when you got home since he made it a point to save these locations for last so he could find an excuse to see you.
But today, it was different. Barbatos waited for you while cleaning the counters in the kitchen. You always went to the kitchen to get a snack after leaving your coat and bag by the door. He waited, but you didn't appear. As he was about to see what you were doing, he saw you shuffle by. Usually, you would at least greet him, but you didn't even pay him any attention.
He went after you, and placed a hand on your shoulder. You finally acknowledged him, looking tired. “What’s the matter?” He spun you around to face him.
“Oh, nothing. Just tired.” You tried to wave him off. He raised his eyebrow at you. You sigh and give in quickly. “Bad day.” You glance at him and then at the floor.
“You shouldn’t try to hide these things from me, love. I’m only here to help, you know.” He took his hand off your shoulder.
“Sorry.” You look back at him and was greeted with this gentle smile.
“No need to apologize. Do you want to talk about it?” He guided you back to the kitchen, sitting you down in a chair and began to prepare a cup of tea for you.
“Do you mind? I don’t what to sound like I’m complaining or anything.” You ask him.
“No. You know I would never say no to you, especially about something of this matter.” He smiled at you again and at a small nod from him, you tell him about it your day.
“I think that’s everything.” By the end, you were slumped over, head on the counter. He nodded.
“I understand. Thank you for telling me. You won’t have work tomorrow.” He got up and took your dish to the sink.
“I appreciate it Barb, but I have to go in tomorrow.” You watch him as he walks around the counter.
“No, you misunderstood me. There will be no work for you tomorrow.” He smiled at you with his eyes shut. It took you a moment but you realized he was being serious.
“You don’t have to…” You tried to protest but half your heart was already with him in that idea.
“But I do, love. Now, please ready yourself for dinner and we can plan our day tomorrow.” With a kiss in the forehead, he sent you to the bathroom to shower. You couldn’t help but giddily smile and wonder how you got so lucky with him.
Simeon
another very attentive one!
his massages are legendary so he offers you one
cooks your favorite food and insists on making you dessert too
ends the evening with cuddles
When you arrived home, he was working on a manuscript he’s been meaning to finish. He was very focused, so at first, he didn’t catch anything wrong. He greeted you as you entered the room and continued to write.
You didn’t take it personally, and went to the kitchen to begin dinner preparations. You had planned this out in advance, making your job much easier. After placing down all your work things, and washing your hands, you began to gather the ingredients, distracted by your shitty day. As you were doing this, Simeon walked in. He figured it would be a great time to restock on snacks and coffee, since it would give him a chance to say hi to you.
"Hello, Mc. How was your day?" When you didn't respond immediately, he stopped what he was doing to turn to you. "Something the matter?" He glanced at what you were doing.
"Oh, hi. When did you get here?" You put down the vegetables you were holding and pulled him in for a hug.
"Not too long. Now, did you have a bad day today?" He hugged you back, slightly chuckling when you looked up at him with big eyes.
"Yes. But dinner won't cook itself." You sigh and try to turn back around to dinner prep. Simeon stopped you.
"Let me take it from here." He quickly began planning what he was going to make for you.
"But you're busy. That's why I'm cooking tonight." Simeon found it endearing that despite your day, you still wanted to do something to make him happy.
"If you want to help, you can set the table. After dinner, I'll give you a massage, hmm?" He smiled at you. You were so sweet, still wanting to help even after admitting your day was lackluster at best.
"That does sound nice." After shooing you out of the kitchen lovingly, he began his magic. He used the ingredients you took out and began to make something he knew you enjoyed. He wanted to surprise you, so he also decided to make you dessert while you were out of the kitchen.
"Simeon! You didn't have to." You exclaimed when he showed you the meal he made.
"But I did. Now, enjoy, please." You hugged him again, tightly. He hugged you back, overjoyed he could make you so happy.
Solomon
rather than staying home, he invites you out
while its not what you expected, as long as its not somewhere super busy, it might be what you need
he's overjoyed when you agree, and promises you a good time!
he takes you out to a nice restaurant and gives you a date with a multitude of surprises
"Hey, Sol. I'm home." You stick your coat on the coat rack by your front door. You kick off your shoes and set your bag down on a chair nearby. Solomon was nowhere in sight. That was pretty normal, but it still left you a little upset. There's no way he would have known you had a bad day, but that didn't take away from wanting to see him.
Usually, when you arrived home, he was busy in his potions room or reading a book. When you checked his favorite spots, you found no sign of him.
Shrugging it off, you began getting ready for your evening at home. You went into the kitchen to brew yourself a cup of coffee, and found a note on the counter with your name on it. Curious, you unfolded the piece of paper. Inside, was a quick note from Solomon.
It said that he was out and would be back soon. The requests he made were a little strange since he refused to give context. He asked you to, instead of getting ready for bed, to dress up. He said that there was a new outfit for you on your bed, and that to be ready before you usually had dinner.
The strangest part was that he could have just texted you. But, he worked in mysterious ways. His scheming was always unexpected, so you just went with it.
After entering your room, there was no sight of Solomon, but the outfit he said that would be there, was there. It was the perfect size, and you thought it was probably one of the best gifts he had ever given you, making you think he had help. After you put it on, you left the bedroom, not sure what to do next.
Before you had to make this decision, you hear the front door open again. "Hey! Are you ready?" He looked for you, and found you in the living room. He threw this arms around you. "You look great! How are you?" He asked.
"Sol, what is all this about?" You were confused.
"I have a little surprise ready for you! Do you like the outfit?" You did a little spin for him.
"I do, but that doesn't answer my question." You laugh a little at his strange behavior.
"I'm glad you like it. Come with me." He grabbed your hand and pulled you outside the house. Waiting there, was a motorcycle, and two helmets. "I have a reservation at a restaurant for us, but it's not what you might expect." He led you forward before you stopped him.
"Wait, did you know I had a bad day?" He looked at you with a twinkle in his eye.
"If I shared that, it would ruin my secret magic." He gave you a quick temple kiss. From that, you knew that he knew, and that he only wanted to make you happy. With a smile, you agree to follow him, glowing at the thought this was all for you.
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yournowheregirl · 1 year
Text
remember when i said this was gonna be 5 parts? psych! it’s gonna be six parts of the secret-dolly-parton-fan eddie munson saga (thanks again for all the love on this fic & a special thanks to @gothbat99 and @legitcookie for listening to my rambling about this part 🥰)
[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 5] [part 6 + complete on ao3]
part 4: i will always love you
Eddie never thought himself to be an overthinker. 
In fact, during the majority of his life a lot of people assumed he didn't think at all considering the way he flunked senior year twice (He got there in the end, though). But lately - well, actually ever since Pat swore up and down Steve isn’t as straight as Eddie originally thought - Eddie’s brain has been running at a hundred miles an hour.
More specifically, Pat’s words have been echoing through his mind, haunting him, torturing him, every time he hangs out with Steve.
“Hey man, that shirt looks really great on you.” Steve says one day when Eddie shows up at Family Video wearing a red henley. It’s an old shirt he found earlier that week when Wayne forced him to clean out his closet, a little tight but it still fit so Eddie decided to keep it.
“What, this old thing?” Eddie scoffs, playing with the frayed hem of the shirt.
“Yeah, it’s… it suits you. Looks nice.” Steve smiles. 
“Thanks.” Eddie replies. His smile is tight, in the hopes that he doesn’t give away the swarm of butterflies currently residing in his stomach.
But are ya sure that boy’s straight?
“Wait, what’s happening again?” Steve asks one night during Will’s latest Hellfire campaign. 
It’s the first time in literal years that Eddie’s been playing a character instead of DM’ing and so far, he’s been very impressed with Will replacing him. Though his story lines can be a little too detailed at times, which makes it hard for Steve - who hasn’t been there during every D&D night - to keep up. 
So, Eddie explains it to him. He’s patient, keeping his voice low so the others won’t overhear and carefully watches Steve connect the dots. Watches how that cute little frown in between his eyebrows slowly fades away and is replaced with a soft smile. 
“Which brings us here, to the Rotting Grove and now we gotta wait until Dustin’s character makes a decision.” Eddie says finally, but Steve stays quiet. He’s still looking at Eddie, eyes wide with wonder, maybe he still doesn’t understand the plot just yet. “Sorry, did I go too fast? You want me to start again?”
“No, no, I got it.” Steve shakes his head, smiling. “Thanks for explaining it, though. You’re a great story teller, Eddie.” He says, bumping their shoulders together but never pulling away.
Steve stays glued to Eddie’s side throughout the rest of the night, whispering the occasional question or snarky comment in his ear, sending a chill down Eddie’s spine every time he feels Steve’s lips brush against his skin.
But are ya sure that boy’s straight?
“You really gotta be more careful.” Steve says sternly one afternoon, after Eddie has fallen face-first onto the ground during one of Max’ skateboarding lessons, leaving him with a nasty graze on his cheek. 
“I was being- fucking Christ, Steve.” Eddie hisses as Steve dabs a washcloth against Eddie’s bloodied cheek. “Will you stop that? That hurts like hell.”
Steve ignores his protests, rolling his eyes. “An infection hurts even more, so just stay still, will you?”
His hand, big and warm, finds Eddie’s hip, holding him still against the bathroom counter, as Eddie tries to think of literally anything that’ll stop his blood from going south because this not the place or time to pop a boner right now. Which somehow results in him being particularly mopey to Steve.
“I can take care of myself y’know? Been doin’ it all my life.” He grunts when Steve slowly removes the washcloth. 
“I know you can.” Steve replies softly. “But sometimes it’s nice to have someone taking care of you for a change.”
He runs his thumb over Eddie’s cheek, wiping away the last of the blood before placing his his hand on Eddie’s jaw, turning his face to see if there are any wounds to be taken care of. When Steve nods, obviously proud of his work, Eddie almost wants to go out there and trip another time, just to feel Steve’s hands on his skin again. 
“Besides, you need someone around here who actually knows first aid. God forbid something happens to that pretty face of yours.” Steve smirks, before patting Eddie’s chest and walking out of the bathroom, leaving Eddie speechless for the first time in his life.
But are ya sure that boy’s straight?
Pat’s words keep getting louder and louder in his mind to the point that it’s the only thing Eddie can think about. He overanalyzes every single one of Steve’s movements, every word that rolls off his tongue, every glance sent his way, to the point that he swears he’s going insane.
Because the more he starts thinking about it, the more Pat might actually be right and isn’t that the most terrifying thing in the wold?
-xxx-
“Dude, will you stop that?”
Eddie looks up from where he was mindlessly staring out the window and glares at Dustin, who glares right back at him. “What?”
“Your leg.” Dustin pokes him in said leg, the one that’s been bouncing uncontrollably for the past few minutes. “It’s fucking annoying.”
Dustin’s been at the Munson trailer since early afternoon, figuring out the perfect songs to  put on the mixtape he’s mailing Suzie for their anniversary. Eddie had felt honored that Dustin came to him, rather than the so-called leading expert on romance (Steve) but now his patience is wearing thin. 
Don’t get him wrong, he loves the squirt with all his heart, but Dustin’s been contemplating between two very similar songs for thirty minutes now and his indecisiveness is starting to get on Eddie’s nerves.
“Maybe if you hurried the fuck up, my leg wouldn’t be shakin’ Henderson.” Eddie retorts. “C’mon, hurry up, will ya? I got places to go, people to meet.”
Dustin snorts. “Really?”
“Yeah, really.”
“You know, going out to the woods to deal doesn’t exactly count as Friday evening plans.” Dustin says.
“Hey!” Eddie protests. “You know I don’t do that shit anymore, not with those shady government assholes watching my every move.” He sighs, fiddling with the rings on his fingers. “But if you must know, me and Steve are having a movie night at his place and you know how huffy he gets when I’m late.”
That’s not entirely true. Sure, Eddie’s going over to the Harrington house tonight and sure they’re gonna watch a movie, but it’s also the night that Eddie decided to finally make a move on Steve. And maybe, if everything goes right, tonight will be the night that he finds the guts to Steve how he feels.
Which is why Dustin needs to get a move on because he really needs those extra few hours to contemplate his existence, have a panic attack, talk himself down from said panic attack and figure out what he’s going to wear.
“Okay, now I know you’re lying.” Dustin says, looking anything but impressed with Eddie.
“What? I ain’t lying, Henderson.” Eddie frowns. He grabs the VHS tape from the coffee table and waves it in Dustin’s face. “See, I got the movie and everything.”
“Yeah, well, you must have gotten the days mixed up.” Dustin shrugs. “Steve’s got a date tonight.”
“Yeah, right.” Eddie says, rolling his eyes at Dustin and ignoring the way his heart is starting to beat a little faster out of sheer panic. “Steve hasn’t been on a date since he broke up with Emily. And even if he has a date, I doubt he would’ve planned it at the same time as our movie night.”
“Well sorry to burst your bubble, but I know for a fact that Steve’s got a date tonight because he told me.” Dustin’s tone is bordering on condescending but Eddie doesn’t even have energy to tell him off right now because what the fuck? What does Dustin mean by that? And maybe more importantly, why did Steve leave Eddie in the dark about all this?
A heavy feeling settles down in his stomach, but he can’t let Dustin see his inner turmoil so he goes with indifference instead. “Pff, sure he did.”
“I saw him buy roses, Eddie! They were red too and that’s like, a dead giveaway for romance!” Dustin declares. “And when I talked to him about it he got this… weird, mushy look in his eye, which by the way gross, and said something about making tonight special and shit. Which again, gross, but if that doesn’t scream romantic evening to me, then I don’t know what is!”
Slowly, as Dustin’s words are starting to sink in, the heavy feeling grows stronger and stronger until Eddie feels his stomach drop.
Steve’s going on a date. 
Steve’s going on a date and just ditches Eddie without saying a word.
Steve’s going on a date with someone who isn’t Eddie.
Steve’s going on a date which means Pat was wrong.
“Get out.” Eddie says, voice on edge.
“Geez, didn’t know you’d get so upset. It’s just a cancelled movie night, I’m sure Steve-”
“Out!” Eddie exclaims, his tone way harsher than it needs to be. It obviously affects Dustin, who flinches at his words, but Eddie doesn’t care. Well, he does but he’ll apologize to Dustin later, once he starts to feel normal about all of this. 
Dustin quietly packs his stuff, mumbling something under his breath as Eddie just stands there, frozen. Eyes glued to the coffee stain on the carpet, mind reeling with thoughts of Steve ditching him for some date he didn’t even tell him about. 
He hears Dustin say a quiet goodbye but he stays there for a good few minutes before he finally snaps out of his trance and grabs the keys to the van from the kitchen counter. He doesn’t even see the dark clouds forming in the sky, he just gets in the van and drives. 
-xxx-
Rain is still pouring down when Eddie arrives at the Off-Road. Not that he really cares about the weather right now, he’s got other things on his mind. He pulls his leather jacket over his head and jogs over to the entrance, only to find the door closed and the lights off.
Great. Like his day couldn’t get any worse.
Eddie slumps down on the porch in front of the bar, not caring that he’s sitting on wet wood or that the wind is blowing the raindrops right in his face. The rain is actually pretty nice right now, hiding the tears that are slowly rolling down his cheek.
Crying over Steve motherfuckin’ Harrington. That’s a new low, even for him.
And the thing is, any other time Eddie could’ve dealt with Steve getting another date. Yeah, it’d probably hurt like a bitch and Eddie would’ve been sulking for a day or two, but he would’ve been fine. It would’ve been just another Emily situation, just another reminder that Steve would never been his.
But Steve keeping him in the dark about his date, Steve just flat-out cancelling their movie night without even telling him, after weeks of, let’s be honest, low-key flirting? That somehow hurts even more. It just feels like Steve doesn’t really care about him, like Steve’s using him like a fucking Kleenex - use once, then throw away when it’s no longer useful.
The thoughts in his head are so loud, so overwhelming, that he doesn’t even hear a pick-up truck stopping a few steps from him. Doesn’t hear the hushed voices or the wet sounds of footsteps through the mud.
“Ed? Whatcha doin’ here kid?”
Eddie looks up from where he had been staring at his feet, only to find Pat and Tish standing in front of him, huddled together underneath an umbrella. The worried looks on both their faces makes Eddie just cry even harder.
“Oh honey.” Tish says softly. “Let’s get you inside, okay?”
Pat and Tish lead him inside and up the stairs that lead to the apartment above the bar. It’s small, but cozy and feels like a home, with little trinkets and old photos scattered just about everywhere. Pat firmly plants Eddie down at the kitchen table and hands him a couple of towels as his tears slowly start to fade. He hadn’t even realized how cold he was until Pat throws a woolen blanket over his shoulders and Tish puts down a pot of hot chamomile tea.
“So…” Pat says as she sits down across from him at the kitchen table. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” Eddie sniffs, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “It’s stupid.”
“We’ll be the judge of that.” Pat says sternly, though her eyes are soft. “Now tell us what happened.”
And Eddie just spills everything. How Pat’s advice has been haunting him, how he’s been overanalyzing every of Steve’s moves, how he was so sure that Steve liked him back, only to be tossed aside without a care. He tears up again a few times and it’s so embarrassing he wants to be buried alive, even with Pat and Tish just listening and telling him it’s okay.
Once he’s done, he just feels empty - no more tears to cry, no more words to say, just an empty, hollow feeling where his heart used to be. 
“Eddie, I’m so sorry, honey.” Tish sighs as she pours him another cup of tea. He’s not usually a tea drinker but he’s had two cups already - he swears Tish put some kind of crack in it, rather than sugar cubes. “For what it’s worth, he doesn’t deserve you. Not if he treats like you like, pardon my French, dogshit.”
Hearing Tish swear, while she’s generally so prim and proper, makes Eddie laugh, even through his dried-up tears. “Thanks, Tish.” He sighs, slouches down in his chair and looks up at the wooden ceiling. “But I guess this was good, in some twisted, fucked up way. Just the slap in the face I needed.”
“What’d you mean?” Pat frowns.
“It’s just… I been running after him like some lovesick puppy even though I know he’ll never feel the same.” Eddie says. “And it’s not doing me any good, now is it? Guess this is a sign that it’s time for me to move on.”
He knows he said that before, back when Steve started dating Emily, and even though it clearly didn’t work out the way he wanted to, Eddie has to make it work now. He has to say goodbye to Steve because he’s not so sure his poor heart’ll survive if he doesn’t.
And he knows exactly how he’s going to do just that.
Eddie jumps up from the table and races downstairs, ignoring Pat and Tish’s confused noises as they follow him. He fumbles with the lights for a moment but as soon as the lights are partially on, Eddie walks up to the podium, grabs the guitar off the wall and sits down on the stool that has become so familiar to him.
The bar is silent because of course it is and for a second Eddie just wants to laugh at how weird this whole situation - singing in a bar just to process his dumb feelings, even with no audience around (well, there’s an audience if you count Pat, Tish and the wind howling outside). But he has to do this, needs to do this, audience be damned. 
His hands are shaking, hesitating to play the first few chords. It’s not like he doesn’t know the song, in fact he knows it by heart and played it plenty of times, But he never actually sang the words, too scared what’ll mean if he’ll say them out loud. 
“If I, should stay… I would only be in your way. So, I’ll go but I’ll know, I’ll think of you each step of the way.” Eddie sing softly, voice already wavering because he was right for not singing this song before - it fucking hurts. “And I… will always love you.”
Eddie’s voice echoes through the empty bar, causing to sound more hollow than it already is. A shiver runs up his spine when he feels a cool breeze of wind - the wind must’ve flung the door open. Eddie doesn’t look up, closes his eyes instead and lets the music take him.
“Bittersweet memories, that’s all I’m taking with me.” He hears Pat and Tish whispering to another, can’t really see them from where they’re standing in the dark but their hushed voices sound tense. Not that Eddie’s really listening, it’s all background noise as he continues strumming his guitar. 
“Goodbye, please don’t cry. We both know…” Eddie chokes on his on voice, the words hitting a little too close to home. He takes a deep breath and tries again, refusing to shed anymore tears. “We both know that I’m not what you need.”
“Eddie?”
Someone’s calling out his name. A familiar voice. A way too familiar voice. 
Steve’s voice.
But that can’t be. Steve’s doesn’t knows he’s here. Steve’s too busy wooing his goddamn date with those goddamn roses.
It’s just in his head. It’s just his mind playing tricks on him. He just needs to finish this song and then this fake Steve will disappear and-
“And I… will always love you. I will always-” 
“Eddie, please.”
Eddie stops playing as a shadow washes over him, a figure blocking the spotlight. He squints, trying to identify whether it’s Pat or Tish who interrupted him, only to find that it’s neither of them
Because there, with floppy wet hair plastered to his face and a thoroughly soaked pink button-down and blue jeans, stands the one person Eddie had run away from in the first place.
Steve.
tag list (there are so many of you now omg ily):
@cheatghost @henderdads @unclewaynemunson @goblin-eddie @trikigirl271 @alienace @fandomcartographer @stevethehairington @blank1eboi @this-earlobe-is-naked @fruitandbubbles @courtjestermunson @steveisabicon @stereoteleversion @wrenisflying @spectrum-spectre @hotluncheddie @punkharringtxn @remislupinsthevoiceofgod @panicatthediaz @thegingervulcan @sharkruption @goodolefashionedloverboi @thelastwalkingsoul @undreamingscatworld @starrystevie @magipemuseum @mightbeasleep @corrodedcoughin @linkydinky06 @hardboiledeggs @gamerdano @limpingpenguin @blackpanzy @piningapple @teelagurl558 @theokatz @moonlightmirrorball @milf-harrington @raisedbylibrarians @eddiemunsonswife @catateme9 @stranger-poets-society
790 notes · View notes
flyingraijin · 2 years
Text
Cookies 'n Cream | S. Todoroki
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Entry 05 | The Virginity Chronicles
Summary: The rules have been clear for a long time; no messing around, no wasting time on anything that isn't trying to get to the top, and no Shoto Todoroki. At least, until school is over. Your parents have a lot of influence in the hero world, but once you've graduated, you're free from their control. And there's only one more night to wait.
Only, you've never been the most patient person. And after years of hiding your feelings and your need for him, he's right there now, in your room, close enough to touch.
(Or, alternatively; Shoto fucks for the first time)
Pairing: Shoto Todoroki x fem!reader
Warnings: Forbidden romance, first time au, third year au, soft smut, hand jobs, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, all characters are 18 years or over!
Word Count: 12 440
Note: So it's finally here, boys. This has been a long time coming, my apologies. Mental health has been a bitch, so writing wasn't the easiest thing for me, but I got it done eventually! I hope everyone enjoys :)
Series Masterlist + Series Taglist
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It’s Aizawa who eventually comes to break up the party. The clock has just ticked past eleven pm and with the noise level in the 3A common room not decreasing in the slightest, you’re honestly not surprised. Your teacher looks exhausted when he shuffles his way into the room, the bags under his eyes having deepened in only the last day. He also seems reluctant as he stares around at your classmates, and you almost get the feeling that he’s sending you off to bed because he has to, not because he wants to. 
Which makes sense. You think your celebration is justified, after all, considering how your entire class had just passed the official hero licensing exams that afternoon. Although, you don’t exactly mind the fact that you’re being forced up to bed either - Kaminari still has so much energy, despite the late hour and exhausting day, and frankly it’s getting on your nerves a little. 
“Guys,” Aizawa says tiredly as he stands between two of the couches, looking around at your classmates. “I know it’s been an exciting day, but you all have to be up early for the graduation ceremony tomorrow.”
“Aww, but -” Mina tries, looking upset. But she cuts herself off when Aizawa fixes her with a particularly teacherly look. 
“You all also need to move all of your things out of the dorms tomorrow,” he continues, and you're almost able to ignore the distinctly sad tone of his voice. “And I guarantee none of you will want to do that if you’re all exhausted. I’m technically not your teacher anymore, so I can’t really make you go to bed. But you’ll be doing yourself all a big favour if you do.” 
The room falls quiet with his admittance because despite the fact that it has been on everyone’s minds, you don’t think you’ve actually heard someone admit it out loud yet. It being the fact that this is your last night ever in the UA dorms and from tomorrow, you’ll all be full-fledged heroes. 
It’s an exciting thought. But also much more sad than you think anyone ever anticipated.
Momo is the first to agree with Mr Aizawa and honestly, you’re not surprised. You recognise the look of slight dejection as she forces a smile around at the rest of you. “That’s probably a good idea. We don’t want to be exhausted on our first day of heroing!” Her tone is light, purposely light, but it still hits you in the chest a little too hard. Still, you force a smile back at her.
“Yeah, I think I’m about ready to turn in anyway.”
Slowly, your classmates start to agree, and then group by group, they begin to troupe upstairs. You get to your feet along with them and bid Aizawa goodnight. However, before you head up, you make a b-line for the kitchen, all with the intention of getting something that you’ve been saving for yourself up until this point. 
The kitchen itself is dark when you reach it, being illuminated only by the lights still on in the lounge. But you don’t have any problem reaching the tall fridge and then crouching down in front of it as you open the large freezer. The icy drawers are more empty than usual, with a lot of your classmates having either taken their food out or eaten it in anticipation of having to clear the entire space out. You find what you’re looking for immediately, tucked away in the back corner of a bottom drawer, untouched and waiting for you. The cold nips a little at your fingers as you reach for it, but you barely notice in anticipation of getting what you want. Then…
“What are you doing?” 
You jump, your arm instinctively tucking back into yourself as you retreat from the freezer.  Your heart thumps in your chest as for a split second your body goes into fight or flight mode. But then you turn to peer over your shoulder and find only the familiar, curious gaze of your best friend and classmate, Shoto Todoroki.
Your breath leaves you in a rush and you slump a little, placing a relieved hand over your chest. "Thank god, it's just you," you manage to wheeze out as your blood pounds in your ears.
Shoto, totally oblivious to the anguish that he's caused you, cocks his head a little to the side and blinks. "Who did you think I was?" he asks curiously, eyebrows furrowed. 
You shake your head and turn back to the freezer, eyeing your prize once again. "No one. You just… you scared me." 
"I'm sorry." 
You stifle a small laugh as you grab what you need and then go to stand. Shoto steps back as you do, giving you room to reach your full height and close the freezer door behind you.
"It's fine," you say, as the door seals once again. "I just wasn't expecting you to be there." 
" I wasn't expecting you to be here ," Shoto points out. He looks down at what you're holding. "I thought you were going to bed." 
"I just wanted to grab this first," you tell him. And when he gives you a questioning look, you hold up your prize. 
"Ice cream?" Shoto asked as he reads the label on the tub you've got clutched in your hand, and you nod, pleased with yourself. You'd managed to score the last tub from one of your favourite ice cream parlours on your way home from training yesterday, and you'd been saving it for this very occasion. 
"It's cookies ‘n cream flavour!" you tack on when Shoto raises an eyebrow at you. "That's the best flavour!" 
His nose wrinkles a little. "I prefer vanilla." 
"Why am I not surprised?" you mumble, turning to head back past him towards the elevator. He follows after you immediately, falling into step beside you as you begin to make your way back through the kitchen. 
"Why do you have ice cream anyway? Is it a special occasion?"
You shrug one shoulder and look down at the tub in your hand. "I guess it's… like a send-off," you muse. "It's our last night as UA students and while I liked the goodbye party, I figured this would be a more fitting celebration." 
Shoto gives you a blank look for a long minute, long enough that you almost start to think he might have forgotten the significance of the ice cream as you stop by the counter to grab two spoons from one of the cutlery drawers. But then the corner of his mouth twitches upwards and he offers you one of his rare smirks. 
"You mean because of how on our first night in the dorms, you skipped out on the room contest to eat ice cream by yourself in your room?" 
You shoot him a wide grin and point the spoon handle right at his face. "Exactly." 
"And I suppose I'm obligated to show up to this ice cream event too? Since you roped me into the last one?" 
"I did not 'rope you in'," you reply indignantly as the pair of you reach the elevator. Shoto presses the button to bring the elevator to the ground floor and turns to look at you as you continue. "You just invited yourself into my room because you didn't want to stay up and talk after everyone took their votes!" 
"I was still there,” he points out. "Do you want me there again or not?: 
You close your mouth, a little haughty. Of course, you want him there - Shoto is your best friend in the world, after all, not to mention the very unfortunate fact that you're completely in love with him. If anything, the worst thing about the goodbye party thrown by the rest of your class was the fact that you couldn't snuggle up with him on the couch like you wanted to. 
But you also know of how much pleasure he takes in the fact that you're a complete sucker for him and so you don't want to admit that now. 
"I guess…" you start, as the elevator doors slide open and the both of you step inside. "I guess it would be kind of difficult for me to eat this entire tub on my own…" 
It wouldn’t. But you put on your best innocent face anyway as you side-eye Shoto through your eyelashes. 
He only shoots you a pointed look in return. And then he hits the button for your floor and you smile triumphantly, knowing you’ve got him. 
“You can just ask me,” Shoto points out as the elevator rumbles into life around you. He turns a little, shuffling on his feet as he looks down at you. You shrug nonchalantly even as your heart leaps in your chest. 
“But it’s more fun not to.” 
“For you, maybe,” Shoto mumbles and you giggle, turning to face him properly. 
“Aw, do you not like my games?”
“Maybe not,” he tells you, giving you a pout. But you can see there’s warmth in the depths of his eyes as you reach forward with your free hand to catch hold of him. His fingers are cold as they tangle with yours. 
“I can’t resist though,” you say, tilting your chin upwards to look at him properly. There’s a bit of a height difference between the pair of you, after he’d shot up like a fucking beanstalk back in second year, and usually, it annoys you. Now though, as you watch the way he looks down at you with a raised eyebrow, it brings a certain kind of giddiness to your chest. “You’re very cute.” 
The corner of Shoto’s mouth twitches and he leans in a little. “I know I am,” he says quietly, almost smug. “That’s why a good majority of this school is in love with me.” 
Your eyebrow jumps and you lean away, putting a little bit of distance between the both of you. Your smile doesn’t falter though as you meet his gaze and study his expression, noting the sparkle in his eye. “You’re not supposed to know about that.”
Shoto almost laughs. His fingers squeeze yours as the corners of his mouth tug upwards and then he shoots you a smirk worthy of someone like Sero or Bakugou. “I may be a little oblivious,” he says and suddenly his voice has dropped an octave. You can't help but lean towards him again, your lips parting just slightly. “But I’m not stupid. Most of them are very, very bad liars. Including you.” 
The tip of his nose brushes yours. You smile again. “But I’m allowed to be obvious about the fact that I’m in love with you.” 
“That’s true,” he tells you and then you can feel his lips brushing against yours as he talks. Something in your stomach swoops. “I’d like to hear you say it more often though.” 
You almost kiss him. Almost. You can feel him, his lips, his torso beginning to press against yours, the way his hand is tight on your own. You’re so close to him and you almost kiss him right there, despite the fact that you’re supposed to be hiding the fact that you’re together with him. 
But then there’s a small jolt as the elevator reaches its stop. And you step back just in time for the doors to slide open, revealing the dark, empty hallway of your landing. 
Shoto pulls back a little too, a faint look of annoyance passing across his features. You give his hand a final squeeze as you say, “All in due time.” Then you drop his fingers and, with another smile, turn to lead the way towards your bedroom. Shoto follows behind you with only a soft sigh. 
No one bothers you on the way to your bedroom door. You don't even see anyone, and the evident strips of light appearing from under other people’s bedroom doors lead you to conclude that they’re all made it upstairs before you and Shoto had. You don’t mind though; actually, it’s far more convenient to be undisturbed. Because despite the fact that everyone in the class knows you and Shoto are close, they don’t know how close. And it’s still important to hide the fact that you’re not-together-but-together from the rest of your class, at the very least until you’ve both left UA for good. 
Your relationship with Shoto has always been complex like that. Right from the start, when you’d so boldly introduced yourself to him on your very first day at UA. There’d been a connection between the both of you from the beginning - probably because you each came from well-established hero families and understood each other’s pressure - and you’d been unwilling to let that go. And so your relationship with him had grown into something very special, if still tainted by the disapproval from both of your parents. 
You’re not dating Shoto. That’s the truth, you’re not . You’re not with him, he’s not your boyfriend. Because he can’t be, not like this. You can’t go out and do couple things, you can’t cuddle and kiss in front of anyone else, you can’t address him as yours for fear of the anger of both your families. Not after your parents had told you specifically if anything happened between you and him, they’d pull you from UA in a heartbeat. He’s still your partner though, your person . And you love him more than you’d ever thought you were capable of loving anyone. Just not publicly. 
Which is why slipping him silently into your bedroom is practically a routine at this point. Shoto follows on behind you, a cover story already poised at the both of your lips. He keeps his head down as you open the bedroom door and steps inside first when you let him through, keen eyes scanning over your empty room once before his shoulders relax. And then, once you’ve shut and locked the door, and are turning back to him with the tension already flowing out your own body, he closes the distance between you two in a few long strides. You practically fall into his kiss when he reaches for you, his left hand sliding right your waist while his right clasps your jaw gently. You inhale in surprise and almost don’t register the kiss before he pulls away again and drops his head a little to fix you with a dark gaze from beneath his bangs. 
“You take far too much joy in teasing me,” he tells you in a soft voice. You giggle in response and shake your head, letting him go when he steps back to run a hand through his hair. 
“You make it too easy.” 
Shoto only grunts in reply and turns to take his usual spot on the floor beside your bed, his back to the bed frame. He crosses his long legs and watches on as you first go to switch on the fairy lights strung across one wall and then discard your phone on your desk. Neither of you speaks a word until you turn again and take your seat next to him on the floor, stretching out your legs before you. 
Shoto takes the spoon that you offer him and then continues to watch silently as you wrestle the lid of the ice cream from the tub and reveal the creamy substance to the cool of the open air for the first time. Neither of you go to take a spoonful though, something hanging in the air between you, holding you back. 
“Hey, Shoto,” you start eventually, staring hard at the ice cream before you. “You’re not… nervous for tomorrow or anything?” 
You can feel his soft gaze on the side of your face as you speak but you don’t dare look at him. For some reason, bringing the question up almost makes you feel… embarrassed? No, ashamed is probably a better word. 
For a moment there's silence as Shoto seems to think about it. Then he shifts, moving a little closer to you. “I don’t think so,” he says eventually, almost sounding thoughtful. “I’m not nervous to graduate or anything. Why do you ask?”
You shake your head and go to dig into the ice cream with your spoon. “Um, no reason,” you say. “I was just… wondering.” 
Shoto watches you for a moment more. Then he reaches out to take hold of your wrist, stopping you from massacring the surface of the ice cream any more. “There’s something bothering you,” he observes, his voice quiet. You just shake your head again in response. 
“It’s nothing,” you mumble before shoveling a spoonful of ice cream in your mouth. “Really.” 
But, just as he’d rightfully said earlier, Shoto isn’t stupid. Oblivious, not stupid. And so when he reaches out to take hold of your chin gently and turns your head so he can meet your eyes, you can see the clear concern burning in his gaze. “Please,” he asks, softly, sweetly. “Tell me?”
For a moment, you’re not going to. For one long moment, you honestly think you’ll just deny him again and, when he inevitably stops pushing you, go back to eating ice cream while talking about happier topics. 
But it’s only for a moment before when you meet his eyes, you realise you really don’t want to hide it from him. So much of your life is hiding, it’s already come between you and some of the people you love the most. You don’t want that to happen to Shoto. 
So you purse your lips and let out a short sigh. And then you say, “I’m kind of scared.” 
Shoto lets go of you, his eyes narrowing just a little as he gives you a confused look. “Scared.” 
“Yeah,” you affirm and look away from him. “Really scared, actually.” 
“Of what?”
You shrug. “I’m not sure. Graduating, maybe. Or… I suppose it’s more just, I’m scared of being an adult.” 
You take another scoop of ice cream, which prompts Shtoo to do the same, and for a few seconds, the pair of you just sit in silence, processing what you’ve said. Then you shrug again and shake your head. 
“It’s like… we’ve spent three years here, right? In these dorms, with each other, learning all these things that should help us when we actually have to be heroes. But… now that we’re almost done, and we’re leaving tomorrow , I can't help but feel like… like I don’t really know anything at all.” 
“You’re in the top five of our whole year though,” Shoto points out. You bite at your bottom lip as your nose scrunches a little in response. 
“Yeah but…” you start, “that's not really the same. That's all theory and practice of how to be a hero . I don’t even know how to be a person , and now we have to go out there, completely alone, and just figure it all out.” 
Shoto seems to think over your words for a minute as he takes another mouthful of ice cream. “I suppose I understand,” he admits eventually. But then his head turns and you can feel him looking at you once again. “But… you won’t be completely alone.” 
You turn your own head and meet his gaze straight on. 
“Yeah?”
He nods. “You’ve got all the friends you’ve made here. Uraraka and Asui and Yaoyorozu… all of them. They’re not just going to leave now that we’re finished with UA. And…” and here he pauses for a moment as something wells up in his dark eyes. “Well, you’ve got me.” 
“You?” 
He nods once. “Even if it hasn’t been … officially, these past few months, you’ve got me. And from tomorrow… we won’t have to hide anything anymore.” 
“Right,” you mumble. "From tomorrow…" 
Tomorrow you're officially free. That's how you've always thought of it. Your graduation from UA and into the vibrant world of pro-heroes acted as somewhat of an official-unofficial step into adulthood. From tomorrow, your parents would have no real agency over your life, not if you didn't want them to. From tomorrow, you'd need to learn to handle your own affairs. From tomorrow, you could be your own person, properly, with nothing in the way. 
And from tomorrow, you could be with Shoto. Because from tomorrow, the bounds of the ultimatum your parents had stung over your head fell away. They couldn't "forcefully remove you from school", they couldn't put a cork in your dreams. They couldn't lock you at home like they're threatened. They couldn't even cut you off financially because you'd have your own job and be earning your own money - you have a place at an agency that's not theirs, working under a hero who has no connections whatsoever to your family. From tomorrow, you'll finally be free. 
That thought alone is enough to ease the knot of anxiety growing inside you just a little bit. 
"I can take you on a real date tomorrow," Shoto continues quietly. "And I can hold your hand in public, and not care who sees." 
"Not even your dad?" 
"Not even my dad," Shoto confirms. He nudges at your knee lightly, a little cheerily, with his own, and then you hear the small smile in his words when he speaks again. "I don't have to care about him ever again." 
You turn to look at him properly then, and his eyes catch yours immediately. They're sparkling, you realise, gittering in the twinkle of the fairy lights on the opposite wall. His whole face really, is illuminated in a way that makes you think he could be an elf. Or a fairy. Something kind of inhumanly beautiful creature, especially with the way he's staring at you right now. 
A smile finds its way to your own lips and slowly you reach over to set the tub of ice cream down on your nightstand, so you can raise a free hand up to brush his bangs away from his face. 
"That sounds good. Really good." 
"Just a few more hours," he tells you in a soft calm voice. And you repeat it back to him in a warm tone. 
"Just a few more hours." 
You're not sure who leans in first but when your lips meet after that; it's very soft. You feel Shoto’s fingers on your jaw, holding your face with a touch lighter than feathers, and at the same time, your own hands curl into the fabric of his shirt. He tastes like cookies and cream, you realise with a soft start. And you're sure you must taste that way too, especially so when Shoto lets out a soft sigh against you and presses closer. 
Something bursts in your chest, heat that spreads outwards until it feels like your entire body is tingling. You grip Shoto a little tighter in an attempt to ground yourself and in response he lets go of your jaw completely, allowing his hand to slide downwards to rest against the side of your neck instead. His lips are as soft and sweet as ever, coaxing you gently, moving only the slightest fraction to draw you in as much as possible. And then suddenly he pulls away, leaving you to chase after him with an unhappy sigh. 
When your eyes open again, you find that Shoto is already looking at you. His hand is still on your neck, thumb rubbing back and forth against the warmth of your skin comfortingly. And there’s something questioning in his expression that has your eyebrows furrowing a little in concern. 
“What?” you ask, and it comes out as barely a mumble between the pair of you. Shoto purses his lips, his eyes dropping from yours to where your fingers are still tightly gripping the front of his sweater. When he speaks, his voice is just as quiet. 
“You… You do want this, right?”
“Want what?”
“Us,” he clarifies, looking up at you again. “Everyone about not hiding anyone, being able to be together properly, all of it… you do want it?” 
Something inside you wilts when you pinpoint the self-doubt in his tone. And then you let go of his sweater to put your hands on either side of his face, holding his gaze steady as you stare into his eyes. 
“I want it, Shoto. I can’t even begin to explain how much.” 
His hand comes up to cover yours, and then he leans into your touch, his eyes falling closed for a second. “As long as you’re sure,” he mumbles. 
Your own eyes slide shut and you lean in too, your forehead pressing to his. The tips of your noses brush and you feel yourself relax a little against him, as the familiar hot and cold of his body overwhelms you. You can feel him breathing and you find your own breaths matching his; in and out, in and out. Until his hands close a little tighter around yours and then he pulls them from his face, tugging them down so he can curl his fingers between yours in his lap. 
You want to open your eyes and look at him. And yet, as he shifts a little and his energy changes, and the sound of his body shuffling around teases your ears, you find that you can’t. It’s like your eyelids are glued closed, your heart beginning to beat a little faster as you wait in anticipation for him to do … something. 
It takes him a minute. His thumbs rub over the back of your hands, smoothing across your skin in a gesture that sends tingles rushing up your spine like ice. And you feel the soft warmth of his breath against your lips, like he’s drawing closer but only by a fraction. Your eyelids flutter and your lips begin to curve as you go to say his name. “Sho-” 
But Shoto cuts you off completely by kissing you again. 
Only, this time, it’s a little different. 
There’s an energy in him that you don’t recognise as his lips caress yours. It’s warm, and eager, excited even, and it draws you in, turns your muscles to liquid and your bones to jelly as you allow him to pull you closer, eventually tugging you right onto his lap. Shoto lets out a soft sigh against you as your legs slot around his hips and your hands slide to his shoulders, fisting in the fabric of his sweater. He’s not usually so forward, so pushy with what he does, and yet there’s not even the tiniest semblance of doubt in his actions as he settles his hands around your waist and holds you against him as his lips move a little more vigorously against yours. They tug a soft sound from you, something of a very low whine, and then immediately take advantage of your parted lips to deepen the kiss. His tongue tastes even more of cookies and cream as it slides to find yours and for a long moment you genuinely think you’re going to completely melt against him as every molecule in your body seems to liquidate and crumble as everything about him overwhelms your senses. 
A groan rumbles through the depths of Shoto’s chest when he seems to feel you totally submitting to him. His grip on you tightens, going from your waist to rub soft circles into your hips. And then his hands slide up your back, trailing first up and down your spine over your shirt and then sneaking under the hem to caress your skin beneath it. 
You shiver violently at the feeling, loving it, and press closer. Your hand slips up to hold Shoto’s jaw as you move your head a little and kiss him even harder. There's a burning sensation beginning to rise in you now, a deep longing that's pressing you closer and closer to him, making you want more and more. You don’t entirely understand it but you do recognise it to some degree; it’s the same feeling that you’d used to get months back, before you and Shoto became… well, you and Shoto. It’s the desperation that would burn in your stomach as you’d stared at him back then, the deep, all-consuming ache that came with knowing you couldn’t be his in the way you wanted to. Neither of you had spoken about it back then, neither of you had confessed . You didn’t know about his feelings, you didn’t really even understand your own. Which is why, when you think back to it, and try to recall that feeling, it comes with a great amount of pain. Pain and sadness and grief , even. 
None of that is present within you now, as you kiss him like your life depends on it. Only the longing and the desire, but nothing else. It’s overwhelming, to be honest, because it’s so pure. Pure and unadulterated and primal and so fucking suffocating. But it also feels good. Really good , in a way you haven’t truly ever felt before. 
It scares you a little. But… 
But it excites you even more. 
You think Shoto must feel it too because finally, he pulls away from you. And when he does, his eyes are wide and his lips are swollen and he almost looks a little dazed. You can’t help the smile that tugs at the corner of your own mouth at the sight of it, and your fingers slide up into his hair to twist between the strands affectionately. 
He mumbles your name, very softly. His hands continue to move up and down your back but it's more delicate now, less frenzied. You catch his eyes and then hold his gaze as you try to read him. And, surprisingly, you actually can. 
“I need you,” he whispers out and it’s so quiet you barely catch it. Just barely, but you do and it feels like your entire chest explodes with love and affection. Your fingers move gently through the soft strands of his hair, stroking it back, messing with it as you use your connection to him to ground yourself. And you take a long moment to stare deep into his grey and blue eyes and take in all that you find there; the love, the compassion, the excitement, the desire, the fear, the exhilaration, the nerves… all of it. 
“Are you sure?” you ask him eventually because you don’t really know what else to ask. And Shoto nods without a single millisecond of hesitation.
“I want you,” he mumbles and it’s so much more intentional . You almost squirm. 
“Okay.”
You shift a little in his lap, trying to reorganise yourself. But you’re distracted when Shoto leans in to begin pressing soft kisses down the column of your throat. 
Your brain seems to short-circuit for a second and it gives Shoto the perfect opportunity to collect you in his arms once again. He slips his hand from under your shirt to gently caress your jaw, turning your head to his liking so he can reach your skin properly. You let him with absolutely no resistance as your eyes flutter shut all over again and a long, contented sigh slips from between your lips. Shoto’s mouth on your neck is addicting in a way you’ve never thought you’d ever be addicted to something in your life. His lips are hot and the few tiny licks he gives, with just the very tip of his tongue tracing your skin - they burn . Like fucking fire. And it makes something well up inside you, a heat that makes your head spin and your blood pound in your ears, and everything about you just feels… oversaturated. 
You feel his lips curve upwards into a smile against your own skin. It has warmth flooding your cheeks, making your whole face feel flushed, especially when Shoto pulls back a little to stare up at you with half-lidded eyes. You can barely find it in yourself to meet his gaze as your fingers find purchase in his hair once again and you blink down at him dreamily.
“What do you want from me?” Shoto asks softly. You have to bite your lip for a second to suppress a deep sigh. 
“Just,” you mumble in reply, trying to stop your voice from shaking, “Just touch me.” 
“Touch you how?” 
“However you want,” you breathe out without even needing to really think about it. “Just… Shoto….”
You let your words die out when he goes back to kissing your skin. Only now his lips glide along your shoulder, before dipping down to your collarbone area. He hooks a finger into the collar of your shirt and tugs it down a little to get more access to the warmth of your skin. But, ultimately, it’s not enough, and before long - and perfectly in sync as if you’re reading each other’s minds - Shoto pulls away to give you room to haul your shirt upwards and over your head, ridding your body of it entirely. 
It’s not a big deal for Shoto to see you in your bra. You’ve known him long enough for him to have witnessed you in various swimsuits on a number of occasions, not to mention how he’s never been incredibly affected by nudity to begin with. You’re comfortable like this, completely. And he doesn’t gawk or stare at you as you ball the material of your shirt and throw it away from you over your shoulder. 
No, he just seems to appreciate . With adoring eyes and lips that are just the slightest bit upturned at the corners, he lets his gaze travel up and down your body. And then his hands find your back again, between your shoulder blades, and he pushes you into him, bringing you into the softest hug you’ve ever experienced. 
You stay like that for a moment, you and him. Just breathing softly, eyes closed and arms tangled around each other as you sit, content just to exist like this. You can feel Shoto’s heart beating from where your chest is pressed up against his, and it’s steady, unwavering, and perfectly calm despite the heat of the moment. It calms you somewhat in response and your muscles loosen slightly as you sink against him, burrowing into his presence as much as you possibly can. 
Shoto sighs against you, his body relaxing just as yours does. His head drops onto your shoulder, his forehead pressing into the warmth of your skin. You can feel his eyelashes fluttering, the tickle of them sending goosebumps rushing along your arms. And then you feel his lips, pressing warm, feather-like kisses into the dip of your shoulder joint. 
“Shoto,” you whisper to him then, and begin to shuffle, slowly detangling yourself from his grasp. “Shoto, c’mon…” 
He seems to understand as you struggle to your feet, following you as you rise to climb up onto your bed. You find your spot there first, back pressing into the cool sheets as Shoto crawls on the mattress beside you. And then you reach for him, already missing the contact of him, your hands search desperately to feel him once again. He doesn’t deny you for too long; just long enough to grab at the back of his sweater and tug it over his head to reveal the slightly crumpled white school shirt beneath it. 
Your fingers delve deep into his hair the moment he leans back over you, and pull his face down to yours. You kiss him again before he’s really even settled, his body still shifting before his hips find their spot between your bent legs and his torso ends up flat to your own once again. His kisses are still soft but they feel so much hotter now, with his body right atop yours and his warmth so, so close. 
You whimper a little against his lips when one of his hands begins to creep downwards, heading from your neck to your shoulder and to your chest. His long fingers are cool when they envelop your breast for the first time and it makes you shiver and squirm as tingles dance along your spine. Even through the fabric of your bra, his touch is so intimate . He barely does anything but feel you gently, cupping your breast in his hand and massaging at the flesh just enough to make you whine. But it’s overwhelming nonetheless and your fingers dig even tighter into his soft hair as you kiss him even harder, already beginning to slip under as the pleasure within you rises. 
“My love,” Shoto whispers against your lips and you can feel him smiling through the words. “You’re addicting.” 
“Fuck,” you breathe out softly as your hand slides down the back of his neck. Your fingers find the collar of his shirt and then slip beneath it, fingertips ghosting along the strong lines of his shoulder blades and back. “Shoto…” 
He kisses you again, and his hands leave your body, going to the buttons of his shirt. You help him as best as you can with your eyes squeezed shut, fingers fumbling as you try to get the piece of fabric off as quickly as possible. Shoto hums at your eagerness, his smile remaining the whole time, and when he pulls back just enough to discard the thing, you see the sparkle in his eyes. 
He’s very comfortable , you realise, with the slightest twinge of surprise, as you watch the way he throws his shirt across the room before ducking back down to pepper your collarbone area with kisses once again. Even as your head falls back and your chin tilts upwards as the feeling of his mouth on your skin makes your toes curl, your mind is spinning. He’s more comfortable than you ever would have expected. For him especially,  considering not only is he just as inexperienced as you are, but he’s definitely not the most sexual being in any aspect of his life. You don’t even think you’ve ever had a full conversation surrounding any topics even remotely PG13 with him in the entire time you’ve known him. 
He’s good though, you can’t help but think as his hands sneak to your chest again, this time slipping his fingers beneath the cup of your bra to touch your skin properly. Your back arches upward at the feeling, sensual and languid as your grip on his shoulders tightens again. He’s very good.  
“Shoto,” you mumble again as your fingernails dance across the skin of his back. Instinctively, your thighs tighten a little around his hips. “Take it off.” 
He doesn’t acknowledge you verbally beyond a low grunt into the crook of your neck. But you feel it in his touch; the eagerness he responds with as his hand all but raced from your chest to your back. He fumbles for a second, fingers twisting at the strap of your bra a little awkwardly as he learns the mechanism. You’re about to help him out when you feel the thing snap open, the band around your ribcage becoming immediately looser. Then all that’s left is to shrug the straps down your arms and chuck the fabric away, leaving you totally bare-chested and exposed underneath Shoto. 
You half expect him to gawk at you. Or comment. Or just react in any way, considering the fact that he is a young man with a pair of boobs less than a ruler's length from him. You can remember some of the horror stories you’ve heard from your friends regarding some of their experiences and you’ve braced yourself for however, Shoto decides to react to seeing you this way for the first time. 
What you’re not ready for is for him to do nothing but dive right back into what he was doing before. He barely spares your chest a second look before he lowers himself again to mouth along your neck. His own bare chest presses right into your own now, as one of his hands slips between the pair of you to cup the outer curve of one of your breasts, barely touching it with just the light rubs of his thumb against the warmth of your skin. 
You almost say something about it - you’re not exactly sure what you plan to say but the words are there - however, your voice completely dies in your throat when Shoto decides to nip just a little at the skin of your shoulder. It sends a sudden ripple of shivers down your back and you have to bite down hard on your own bottom lip to prevent yourself from moaning outright. Shoto lets out a breathy snort against you and pulls his head back a little to give you a long look from beneath drooping eyelashes. 
“You like that?” 
You blink up at him and bite the inside of your cheek, feeling the heat flood to your cheeks. You nod anyway though, pushing back your skittishness for the sake of encouraging him to do it again. Shoto’s smile grows. 
“Noted.” 
And then he’s ducking down again, but lower this time. You suck in a sharp inhale between your teeth when the warmth of his breath first hits the bare skin of your boob. And then you let out a whine in earnest when his lips meet it, kissing the warm skin and flesh in a touch so light it’s barely there. 
Shoto smiles against you at your reaction, his eyes darting upward to take in your expression as his mouth continues to caress your skin. One of his hands slides down your body, from your shoulder to your waist to hold you in place with a firm grip against your skin. The other starts to journey around to your back before you grab at his wrist and interlock your fingers with his. He responds immediately, his grip on you tightening, and then the back of your hand is being pressed into the mattress next to your head, as his thumb rubs comforting patterns down the skin there. 
You feel his tongue poke out, tracing the curve of the flesh of your breast. And then he nips again, very very gently, sending spikes of heat bursting through your body and down towards your lower abdomen. 
Your free hand slides up along the back of his neck, and then back down to trace the contours of his back. He’s so warm, the skin of his left side especially, and you can’t help but pull him even closer, trying to have his body cover more of yours as his weight presses you further down into the mattress. Shoto lets out a low hum against you at the feeling, and then he pulls back. Sits up, his arms sliding around your back to pull you along with him. You follow along blindly, pushing yourself into a sitting position before letting Shoto drag you forward to straddle his lap once again. 
For a moment you stare down at him. In the dim light of the room, his blue and grey eyes are glinting. His hair is messy and his cheeks are a little flushed, and you honestly don’t think you’ve ever been more attracted to him in your entire life. Your hands slide up on their own accord, cradling his face, tracing his features. Your thumb rubs along his bottom lip. And then you smile, and he smiles right back at you; a cheeky, warm, lopsided grin that has one dimple appear on his right cheek. 
“Hi,” you whisper down to him, unable to hold back the giddiness that rushes through your chest when he chuckles lightly in return. His arms have circled around your back by now, pressing warm into your bare skin and you bask in the feeling, realising suddenly how happy you are to just be here, like this, with him. 
“I love you,” you mumble out to him, your voice a little muffled when he leans in. His nose brushes up against yours and for a moment the pair of you hover like that, lips just inches apart as your hearts pound against each other. Then Shoto takes a deep breath, his grip tightening on you just a little. 
“I love you,” he breathes back on you in return, his eyelashes flickering so close they brush over your cheeks. “Stay with me.” 
You kiss him in answer and he still tastes like cookies and cream. It draws you in completely, suffocates you, and suddenly you’re both moving again, much faster, much more hurried. Shoto’s hand goes to your hips and then he’s adjusting your position on top of him, moving your body very precisely. You almost want to ask what he’s doing but then you feel something pressing right up against you, against the fabric of your panties, and you realise immediately. A hot sigh escapes you,  a sigh that morphs itself into a very thinly veiled moan, and your eyelids flutter. 
Your hand slips down then, between your body and Shoto's, trailing along his exposed skin and then right to the buckle of his belt. It lingers there for a moment as you find yourself searching for Shoto's gaze, your free hand going to the side of his face. His eyes meet you're, one blue and one grey, and both hazy with too many emotions to count. Your lips brush against his as you whisper, "Let me touch you?" 
You feel the flutter of his sharp breath against your skin and then he's nodding, his hold on your body tightening just a little. You're still staring into his eyes, looking deep, searching for whatever you might find. And the amount of trust you find reflected back at you, it floods your chest with warmth. Love and trust are the two things that have been notoriously difficult for Shoto to entirely understand throughout most of his life, and yet they're the two things he's provided you with unconditionally. And you can't express in words just how much that means to you. 
Your fingers ghost over him, fluttering first up over the clothed bulge that's now straining at his pants. Your fingers shake just a little as the nerves get to you, so much so that you barely touch him at all. And yet the small pressure that you do provide is enough to have Shoto groaning, his eyes sliding shut as his lips part in a huffed exhale. 
You bite your lip, spurred on, and move your hand so you can tackle the buckle of his belt. You fumble with it for a  moment, the way your heart is pounding in your chest making your entire body jittery. But then Shoto slips a hand down to help you, his forehead falling onto your shoulder as he does so, and the pair of you are able to get the thing undone properly. You waste no time with popping the button of his trousers then, and soon they’re laying open too, exposing the dark blue briefs he’s wearing beneath. 
For a moment you hesitate, your heart in your throat. You’ve never done this before, never even attempted it - the two romantic partners you’d had before Shoto had both been at an age when sex wasn’t even a viable idea for you, and since you and Shoto, despite being you and Shoto , weren’t really together, it hasn’t really come up in the past. At least, not like now. 
You’re almost inclined to think that Shoto doesn’t want it, since he’d never expressed any kind of sexual attraction to you, or anyone else, throughout the entire time you’ve known him. At least, not to your knowledge. This thought makes you falter just for a moment, suddenly unsure as your hand hovers over him, and you wonder suddenly - despite everything that has already been said - if you’re taking things too far. 
Shoto seems to realise your dilemma. And he completely dismisses it with one small move, by taking your hand gently in his own and then pressing it down, to where his cock is still swelling in his briefs. The both of you suck in sharp breaths at the feeling, yours in surprise and his in bliss, and then your body relaxes, tipping forward slightly until your head falls into the crook of his neck. 
“Shoto,” you mumble against him, your heart racing. “Shoto, you’re-” 
You feel his hand on your back, rubbing up and down gently. “Shhh,” he whispers back to you as his other hand guides yours, helping you palm him over his clothes. “Here… it's okay.” 
You follow his movements, allowing for him to show you what to do at first. You’re a little flustered, both embarrassed because you’d frozen up, and curious at being encouraged to touch something you’d never had the chance to before. 
Your hand maps him, guided by his own until he eventually pulls it away and lets you touch him alone. He’s so warm, and hard enough that you can make out the shape of him through his briefs. And then, as you add a little more pressure, he lets out a soft groan. 
Your eyes jump to his face immediately, at first worried. But then you see it; the pleasure on his face, the way his cheeks are a little flushed and his lips are slightly parted.
Without thinking, you lean in to kiss him again, hard. Your tongue slips against his, as your heart races and he pushes back against you. You feel his hand against the back of your head, pulling you in. And you start to feel a little braver, turning your hand so you can rub against his crotch with more purpose. Shoto all but chokes against you.
“Does that…?” you whisper out, pulling back a little so you can gauge his reaction properly. “Does that feel… good?” 
Shoto exhales, a little shakily, and then looks up to meet your eyes. Slowly, almost nervously, he nods. 
“Keep going.” 
So you do. Growing in confidence with each second that passes, you start to rub him properly, trailing your fingers up and down his clothed cock, mapping its full length and shape until you feel like you might understand it. Your eyes dart up again then, wide and curious, and you catch Shoto’s gaze. The corner of his mouth twitches upwards. 
“You can touch it… properly,” he tells you, like he’s read your mind. “I want you to.” 
You can’t ignore the way your stomach jumps, full of butterflies. Then you nod at him and slide your way off his lap, allowing him to hook his fingers into the waistband of his briefs and begin to tug them, and his trousers, down his legs. 
He lies back once they’re gone, completely naked in your presence for the very first time, and you're… breathless. You can't stop staring at him, at all of him. The way his soft, floppy hair falls back from his face against the pillow, the way his skin glows golden in the flickering glow of your fairy lights. His eyes; ocean blue and stormy grey blink up at you, filled with warmth and care. His torso, lined with layers of muscle; not buff or built, but lithe, lean, like a figure skater. His chest rises and falls softly, the dips and curves of his abdominal muscles slipping between light and shadow. For a moment, you actually want to lick him, but then your eyes catch his once again and you lean up, towards his head. 
Your lips brush over his, feather-light and only for a moment. And then you move, pressing soft kisses along his cheeks and then up to his forehead. His eyes close when you reach his scar, a sigh slipping from him as you trace the burn mark with your lips as you’ve done so many times before. 
And then you slip down, down to his chin, to his jaw. You take a moment to nip along his neck, tasting his skin but careful not to leave any marks. And then you move to his pronounced collarbones where you can suck properly, and leave purple lovebites along his skin. He groans at the feeling, his hands sliding up your own body, up your back, to hold the back of your head. And then he pulls you back up to kiss you properly, his lips so soft and sweet against yours. 
“Touch me,” he breathes against your mouth, his eyelids fluttering. “Please.” 
So you do. You slide your hand down, to where his cock is standing tall, no longer restrained by the tight material of his briefs. And you begin the process of feeling him out again, with nothing to restrict you this time. 
As soon as you touch him, Shoto hisses. His eyes squeeze shut as you let your hand wrap around him, before sliding up towards the tip, and then you both let out soft sighs. It’s a new sensation for both of you; his cock feels unfamiliar in your hand, the skin is so soft and there’s a weight to it that you’re not used to. For him, it almost seems overwhelming, his head tilted back and his eyes tight shut. You watch the way his lips part as you run your thumb across the tip, your own lip caught between your teeth. He just looks so pretty like this; really, he always looks pretty but there’s something special now. Something. Maybe it's the flush in his cheeks or the way his breath isn't quite even. Or the way he responds to each touch from you. But it has you shifting, your eyes widening slightly as you feel something tug in the base of your gut. Involuntarily, your legs squeeze together, and a spike of heat flashes up your abdomen. Your lips part in a muffled whine. 
“Shoto…”
“More,” he mumbles to you then, eyes opening to give you a half-lidded look. “Please. More.” 
And so you give more. You speed up your pace, you find a proper rhythm, and stroke him. You make an effort to watch his reactions closely, repeating something when he seems to like it. And eventually, you have him moaning, whining under you. 
“Ho-ly shit,” Shoto chokes out, raising an arm to hide his face in his elbow. His hip buck involuntarily. “ Fuck-!”  
And then suddenly his hand snaps downwards, locking around your wrist to hastily pull your hand back. “Shit, shit, shit ,” he mumbles, eyes now wide as he pushes himself up to look at you. 
You look back, worried. “What’s wrong?” 
“I -” Shoto shakes his head. Then he flashes you a small smile. “Nothing’s wrong, I just almost…”
Your eyes widen a little. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” he mumbles. His smile grows and then he reaches forward to run his fingers along the side of your face. “You’re… really good at that.” 
Warmth sparks in your chest and floods to your cheeks. You glance down and then back up, shuffling forward a little. “I am?” 
Shoto leans in. ”Yeah,” he breathes to you, pulling you closer. Your lips brush his as you break into a small smile, allowing for him to guide you up onto his lap once again. You kiss him properly, hands sliding up to tangle in his hair. His go to your hips, his grip loose until you make the voluntary effort to roll yourself against him. Then his fingers tighten, digging into you as he whines against your mouth. 
You do it again, smiling more so to yourself than anything else when his breath hitches in his throat. And you want to continue, until he stops you, pulling away from your lips to stare up at you with hazy eyes. 
“Wait,” he tells you softly. “I want … Can I touch you?” 
You suck in a short breath when you realise what he means, your hands tightening in his hair on instinct. And then, a little shakily, you nod. 
“Okay.” 
“You sure?” Shoto mumbles, seeming to sense your nerves. “It's okay if you don’t want to.”
But you shake your head, gnawing on your lip a little before flashing him a soft smile. “No, I want to,” you mumble, your nose bumping up against his. “Please, touch me.” 
For emphasis, you grab his hand, like he’d done for you, and guide it. Down your front, to where your skirt is still fastened around your waist. For a moment, he hesitates. And so you take the lead and shift, tugging the zipper down so you can rid yourself of the green fabric. 
Shoto sucks in a small breath at the sight of your panties beneath; they’re nothing special, just black, with little pieces of lace detailing. They’re not even the nicest ones you own and yet, as he looks down at you, you feel so warm. So loved. When he reaches a finger out, to trace across the tiny bow on the front, a shiver passes up your body. And then you reach for him, take his hand once again, and guide it down between your legs, to where your need for him is burning .
You feel more than hear the way Shoto gasps when his fingers first brush over the space between your legs. You’re sure your panties are soaking when by now, with how turned on you were from seeing him almost reach his climax. And when he presses a little harder, up into the warmth of you, you feel it too; the way the fabric is completely soaked through. 
“You…” Shoto mumbles out, his eyes still fixed on where he’s stroking back and forth over the fabric. “You’re so…” 
You bite your lip and pull him a little closer, arms sliding around his neck. “Yeah,” you mumble out in reply, letting your head rest against his shoulder. “Keep going.” 
He does, fingers exploring your folds over your soaked panties, feeling up every inch of you like you’d done with him. And then, with a glance to your face to make sure you’re okay, he pulls them to the side to touch you properly. 
Your body tenses a little when you feel him there for the first time, his fingers so cold against the flaming heat of your pussy. But then, as he swipes his fingers up and down your slit, collecting your slick, you grow accustomed and roll your hips into the feeling. Your breath catches in your throat when his knuckle rubs up against your clit, and then Shoto pauses to observe you, just like you had done with him. The corner of his mouth quirks, and he does it again, rubs every so softly against you. You let out a sharp whine as pleasure shoots through your gut, and Shoto’s grin grows. 
“You like that?” he whispers to you, peering up at you through his eyelashes. And you can only manage a nod in return as he does it a third time, letting his finger linger now, and you all but melt into his chest. 
Something glints deep within his eyes and when he looks at you again, his gaze is filled with a determination you don’t quite recognise. He leans in, his lips ghosting along your neck. “Noted,” he mumbles softly, pausing for just a moment. And then you have to stifle a full moan as he draws a circle right over your clit and sends shocks of pleasure crackling up your spine like bolts of electricity. 
You barely need to tell him what to do. Shoto’s always been unusually observant and he gets the hang of how to pleasure you so quickly it’s almost scary. His focus remains on your clit, his thumb positioned over it and drawing constant tight circles against you. But his other fingers explore too, dipping down to swipe up more of your arousal, exploring your slit and your heat, slipping inside once or twice. The whole time, you’re whimpering and whining, shaking in his arms as he figures out how to make you feel good. And then you feel it; the tug, the build, the rise towards your climax. 
“Sho -” you choke out, hands sliding up into his hair to get his attention. “Sho, I’m close.” 
“You want me to stop?” he breathes back to you, pausing only for a second. And immediately, you shake your head because god , you’ve never felt this good before. Not ever. 
The small smirk returns to Shoto’s face and he leans in to press a kiss to your shoulder.
“Then let go for me, okay?” he mumbles into your skin, lips tickling you as he speaks. “It’s okay.”
You whine as his pace speeds up again, his thumb in particular sends waves and waves of bliss through your core. You're practically dripping now, it would almost be embarrassing if Shoto didn’t seem to be spurred on by the feeling. And then suddenly something tugs in your gut, pulling taut, and your whole body goes rigid with the realisation that he’s actually about to make you cum. 
“Shoto,” you breathe out, grabbing onto him tighter as you search for something to ground yourself. “Shoto, fuck !” 
He kisses your shoulder again, and then your neck, trailing his lips across your skin. “You can do it,” he whispers to you, so soft and so gentle that you’re sure something in your chest melts. “Just let go, my love.” 
And then you do, your orgasm rippling through you as the tightness in your abdomen snaps and you slump against Shoto, your entire body tingling. 
He doesn’t let go of you, not for the whole time, even as your limbs tremble and your hands tug at his hair and you suck in heavy, choked breaths from where your head is buried in his shoulder. His fingers slow to a snail's pace, just milking you enough to draw the pleasure out while his other hand runs up and down your back, soothing you. And when you do eventually pull back, finally recovering, he sends you the softest, most breathtaking smile you think you’ve ever seen. 
“You’re amazing,” he tells you in a whisper when you lean your forehead against his. “So amazing.” 
You kiss him in answer because you haven’t quite got the words to reply properly. 
There’s a pause then, a long moment of silence as the both of you seem to get your bearings again. And then, as your senses return to you, you realise you can still feel him, achingly hard and solid beneath you. And you realise the need is still there within you, deep down and not entirely satiated despite just having had the best orgasm of your life. 
“Shoto,” you whisper to him, your voice shaky and weak. “Shoto, I…”
“We can stop,” he tells you softly, raising a hand to cup the sides of your face. “If you want to, we can stop.” 
You shake your head immediately, already shifting yourself on his lap. “No,” you mumble out, “no, I want… I wanna keep going…. if - if that’s what you…?” 
“I want that too,” Shoto tells you immediately, his gaze so warm and loving. “I want that. Can… can I roll you over?” 
As you nod in agreement, he winds an arm around your waist. And then he flips the both of you over onto the mattress, so now you’re beneath him, staring up at him, getting to see the way the fairy lights flicker off his messy hair and the side of his face. 
For a moment, you pause, reach up just to stare up at him with a look of absolute adoration clouding your features. He is gorgeous , you can’t help but think again. So, so gorgeous. 
But then you feel him as he shifts, settling himself between your bent legs. You feel his cock, still hard, rubbing up against you, and you moan because you want him. You want him more than you think you’ve ever wanted anything in your whole life. 
Your hand slips down, practically ripping your ruined panties from your body and then, finally, you’re both completely bare and pressed up against each other, for the very first time in either of your lives. 
“Shoto,” you whisper, blinking up at him. And then he’s leaning down, his nose bumping yours before your lips find his. His kiss is soft, sweet, innocent, and you can’t help but be taken back in that moment, to the first time you’d kissed him, over a year ago on his birthday, when the pair of you had ended up alone together out of pure coincidence. You’d been crying then, because you’d know about the rules, about your parents' ultimatum and their threat to pull you from UA if you tried anything. You’d felt guilty about wanting him back then like you were doing something bad. 
You don’t feel any guilt now, as he pulls away from you to stare down at you with a gaze filled with love and wonder. You don’t feel any guilt, just love. For him. 
“Please,” you whisper up to him. “Shoto, I need you.” 
“I need you too,” he breathes down to you. His head dips and he begins to kiss along your neck. At the same time, you can feel him taking himself in hand, positioning his hips, readying himself to slide into you. 
When he finally does, it feels… weird. There’s a pressure that you don’t recognise, and don’t quite like. It makes you tense up as he pushes forward, your thighs clamping around his hips as your hands dig into his shoulders. Shoto pauses when he feels your body go rigid, looking down at you with worry in his expression. Then he leans down to press his lips to your forehead, pausing for one long moment to let you situate yourself. 
You take a few seconds, suck in a long slow breath, and then send him a nod to tell him to continue. He does and it’s almost bearable - the stretch and the pressure, it almost is. Until it’s not and your eyes begin to burn with unshed tears. Shoto stops again. 
“Shhh,” he whispers to you, his hands on either side of your face. “It’s okay. Do you want me to stop?”
“N-no,” you mumble out, your eyes squeezed shut as you try to breathe through the burn. “No, don’t stop. Just… give me some time.” 
“Okay,” Shoto tells you, nothing but calm. “Okay.” 
You nod in thanks and turn your head to press your temple against his. He’s so warm and he smells like him , like he always has. He’s so familiar despite the unknown you’re facing right now, and it slows your heart rate a little. When shoto’s thumbs brush up against the sides of your face, you almost smile. 
“Does it hurt?” he whispers down to you. “Are you in pain?” 
You bite the inside of your cheek. “It…” you mumble eventually, not wanting to lie but also not wanting to worry him. “It… does hurt. But it’s fading. I can deal with it.” 
“As long as you’re sure,” he tells you and presses a kiss to your forehead. 
You take a few more seconds, breathing as calmly as you can. And then you tell him to continue. And this time, you don’t ask him to stop, not until he’s filled you completely as you’re clinging to him, eyes wide and heart racing as you experience a completely new feeling, one you’d never even imagined before. 
You feel so close to him, to Shoto. You can feel him, so much of him. You can feel his heartbeat, pounding in his chest which is pressed right up against your own. His head drops into the crook of your neck and then you can feel his breath, warm along your skin. His hands on you are gentle, warm, and for a moment you almost think you’re going to cry. It’s overwhelming, to say the least but it’s also… good. Really good. 
“Can I…” Shoto starts out, raising his head to look at you again. “Can I move?” 
You swallow, staring up at him with hazy eyes. And then, slowly, you nod. 
His first thrust is completely overwhelming, for both of you. The feeling of him moving inside you, the slide of him against your inner walls, it’s so much. You can feel so much. And Shoto too, seems to feel it, as his face contorts and he lets out a choked groan. 
“Oh my…” 
“Sho,” you mumble out as your eyes flutter. “Sho, more.” 
His hips pull back again and then slip forward. And then again, and again, until he’s found his rhythm. It’s unpracticed, a little sloppy, but you can feel everything. So much it has you choking on your own moans as your hands scrabble for purchase in his head and his head drops to press against your collarbone. 
“B-baby,” he mumbles out, his lips brushing up against your skin as he presses into you over and over again. “Baby you feel so…”
“Sh-Shoto,” you whine to him as finally, it starts to build. The warmth in your gut, the pleasure, it starts to expand, tightening up your throat and making your legs shake. One of Shoto's hands slides down, down your body and to your thigh, and without missing a beat he hooks it around, over his body. This changes the angle a little, the angle at which he’s sliding into you, and suddenly you feel like you’re seeing stars. He’s hitting a spot inside you now, a stop that’s so deep, and yet, it makes your entire body tremble. Especially when his hand moves from your thigh to between your bodies, to play idly with your clit. You actually jump then, tears flooding your eyes as you pull him even closer and bury your moans in the muscle of his shoulder. 
Shoto reciprocates your grip, his arm sliding around your back so he can pull you in. And he keeps going, rolling his hips steadily as the both of you begin to rise, riding the wave of your building orgasms. 
“Fuck,” Shoto chokes, moaning your name against you. And you whine back s your hands scratch down his back and then up into his hair. 
“Shot,” you squeak, your legs squeezing around his hips. “Shoto, oh my god I'm gonna-!” 
“Yeah,” he hisses back. “M-me too. C-can I stay-?”
“Inside,” you choke back. “Please.”
Shoto nods. And then he presses forward again, nose to your shoulder and holding you as close as is physically possible. You moan a few more times, your hips rolling in time with his. And then your body seizes up as finally, you get there, reaching the peak and then crashing down as a thick wave of pleasure all but wipes out every sense you have. 
Vaguely you register Shoto grunting out your name before he too reaches his climax. And then he collapses on top of you, pressing you down into the mattress as the both of you tremble and whine and experience the euphoria together. 
It takes you a while to come back from it. A good few minutes of holding onto Shoto like your life depends on it, your muscles shaky and weak and your entire body buzzing. Shoto doesn’t move from on top of you either, his head remaining where it is buried in your neck. You can feel his hand on your back, rubbing slow circles into your skin. And then, suddenly, he rolls, pulling the both of you over so you’re resting on top of him once again. 
You look down at him with heavy eyes, your lips parted just slightly and your chest still heaving. Without a word, Shoto pulls you down into a long kiss. 
You only pull away when you're breathing is evened out. And then you’re able to look at Shoto a little clearer, with eyes less clouded. He sends you a small smile. 
“That was good.” 
You can’t help the snort you let out, which devolves into a breathy laugh as you flop forward and let your forehead rest against his chest. 
“Yeah,” you agree eventually, still smiling. “Yeah. Really good.” 
“I love you.” 
“I love you too,” you tell him. Your eyes meet when you raise your head again, and the pair of you share a long, warm look. 
Eventually, you roll off him. Pull yourself away, allow him to slide out of you, and settle down beside him on the bed. You’re warm, very warm, but you still reach for your blankets. Pull them up and over the both of you as you stare up around your bedroom, allowing your heart rate to stabilise. 
Shoto reaches for you, hand going to the side of your head so he can press a long kiss to your temple. When he pulls back, he smiles. 
“So… can I call myself your boyfriend now?” 
You shift yourself, rolling onto your side to face him. And you give him a cheeky smile back.
“Still gotta wait until tomorrow.”
One of Shoto’s eyebrows quirks. Then he turns himself around, and pulls away from you for a moment to reach for something on the floor beside your bed. When he comes back, you realise he’s got his phone in his hand. The screen glows, brighter than anything else in the room, and you catch a flash of the time. 
01:16 am
“Technically,” Shoto mumbles, rolling back over to look at you. The corner of his mouth twitches upwards. “Technically, it is tomorrow.’ 
Your own grin grows and then you lean towards him, hand going to the back of his head so you can pull him towards you to kiss him. 
“Then I guess you are my boyfriend,” you mumble out when you pull away, smiling uncontrollably. Shoto smiles back and nuzzles into you. 
“Guess I am.” You feel him let out a long sigh. “It feels good.” 
“It feels good to be your girlfriend,” you tell him in a low voice, before pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. “Real good.” 
The pair of you stay like that for a moment, basking in each other. Then something catches your eyes over Shoto’s shoulder and you pull away from him. “Shit.” 
“What?” Shoto follows you as you sit up and begin to shuffle off the bed, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. “What’s wrong?” 
“I -” you shake your head as you reach the end of the bed and peer over it, towards the tub that’s still sitting on the bedside table. Your face crumples and your voice comes out in a disappointed, childish whine. 
“My ice cream is all melted!” 
Shoto doesn’t stop laughing for almost five minutes. 
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wonderlandhatter · 5 months
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Frat Aaron hotchner x reader in university head cannon/thoughts.
This isn't edited but just my favourite au atm that had just grown in my head lol.
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💞 These are just some late night thoughts on dating frat aaron. Full disclosure I'm from the UK and we don't have frats over here so it's going to be not very accurate lol. Also this is in university idk if frats are just college though.
✨ You are opposites hes cocky amd as extroverted as they come, you hear his friend group before you see them. His house throws the parties that are talked about for weeks after.
💞 While you're not shy persea you're introverted, keep to yourself and have a couple close friends.
✨ He goes after you, deff flirts constantly and in the words of the Barbie movie he only has a good day when you notice him. He lives for the roll of your eyes after the cheesiest thing leaves his mouth.
💞 You think he's just doing it to get a reaction, knowing the reputation of his frat house. How can someone with the possibility of having anyone on campus be serious about you.
✨ Tonight he'll be hosting a toga party. Letting his abs distract from the little effort he put into his outfit, winning bear pong with the biggest decision being debated in his mind will be which of the practical models he'll pick.
💞 While you have been practically giddy about picking up pastries on your way home, changing into the confident ( and likely oldest) pyjamas in your closet and bundling yourself in your bed. Watching movies that give you nostalgia to the max and eating pastries out of the box.
✨ He couldn't want you, could he?
💞 Obviously he does, you're a self deprivation idiot, that man would watch you paint a wall. Even an ugly colour
✨ Dating him would include so many Snapchats, not to text but because he is sending you pictures constantly, that man thinks he's hilarious. Does it make you smile and giggle? Ofcourse it does.
💞 This picture is exactly what he'd send you when he's at a fancy (insert American university sport) dinner
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✨ He's bored and thinking of you always, that man is so whipped it isn't even funny.
💞 A lot of studying together, he's in a pretty full on course afterall. You both encourage eachother and push eachother to do better.
✨And ofcourse after one does well there's rewards.
💞 He loves how you'll put him in his place, he knows he can get carried away and you ground him in the best way.
✨That man can't cook, his frat house comes with meals supplied so why would he?. He didn't think home cooked meals where something he particularly cared about until you two started hanging out together more and he starting coming over to your house, or when you'd have lunch together and he'd see your packed lunch.
💞 At the start he'd hover over you while you cooked but slowly he'd help little by little until he even cooks something for you ( is it burned? Yes. Do you lov it? Ofcourse)
✨ You conveniently always made "too much" or "couldn't finish" your lunch and ofcourse h d finish it for you.
✨💞 I have many more thoughts so if anyone would like to chat about this my inbox is very open, I'm kinda in love with frat boy aaron lol💞✨
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rukkiya · 1 year
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heart shaped box
(kaeya x reader)
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Though many think he’s used to it, Kaeya really doesn’t expect the sheer amount of gifts he receives every Valentine’s Day. The Cavalry Captain doesn’t really let himself open up or grow too close with many. So he’s always shocked by the amount of chocolates and gifts he still receives on Valentine’s Day.
He doesn’t mind though. He finds it endearing and feels appreciated for the things he does. The gifts he receives aren’t just confessions and homemade chocolates, it's from others he helps throughout the year.
The elderly that gravitate towards him and the children he’s always so kind to send their gifts his way on this day as a token of their appreciation for the kind Cavalry Captain.
You made it a tradition to make homemade chocolates for those close to you and gift it to them on Valentine’s Day as your own sign of gratitude for another year with them. You find much joy in seeing them enjoy it. It also made gifting it to Kaeya a bit less nerve racking.
You've liked him for more than a while now but don’t expect anything to happen since the guy is always so busy and has much too shoulder. You knew a relationship was probably the last thing he wanted but he was one of the people who enjoyed your chocolates the most, so you always made his batch extra special every year.
You had just delivered Lisa’s chocolate to her as to which she was more than happy to have with her afternoon tea. She insisted you'd stay and enjoy the afternoon with her but you kindly declined as you still had one more box of chocolates to deliver and some last minute errands to run before nightfall but promised to have tea with her soon.
Your last box of chocolates was for none other than for Kaeya. Delivering his box made you feel giddy and nervous for absolutely no reason, the charming bastard always teases you for it too. Though he doesn’t tell you, your small heart shaped box was the one he always looks forward to every year.
When you exit the library, the halls of the Favonius headquarters are as quiet as ever.
You near Kaeya’s office and hear him talking to someone, making you slow down your pace. You come to a stop to not intrude, opting to wait until he finishes his conversation before giving him the chocolate.
“Captain you sure are popular.” The young knight's eyes are wide at the sheer amount of gifts Kaeya has on his desk.
Kaeya doesn’t mind all this but today was particularly stressful. Usually he’d be able to relax and thank those who gifted him things himself but the situation with the abyss has been out of control lately making it hard for him to even think about today let alone having to thank everyone for the gifts
“Mhmn,” Kaeya hums, eyebrows furrowing at the report he was reading. Another team down and wounded by the abyss only causing more casualties on their end.
He feels responsible. People are getting hurt when he should have this under control, they shouldn’t suffer from his lack of attention to detail, he could’ve prevented this if he had just gone with them.
“You have lots of fans I guess, do you really eat all this but yourself?” The young knight laughs at the love letters and chocolate boxes and Kaeya puts down the report, hand pushing his stray hairs to the back as he sighs.
You stop and listen, feeling bad for eavesdropping since it wasn’t your business but you were just waiting for him to finish up, no harm in that right?
The young knight stops his rambling upon seeing Kaeya with worry etched on his features. Only then does he realize the weight of the situation.
“I don’t ask for these nor do I want anything to do with them, if you want to take them do so as I have no need for any of this.” Kaeya’s voice is sharp, making the knight stand up straight and clear his throat.
You stand still, hands squeezing the small box in your hold a bit tighter as you hear his stern tone.
“We have more important matters at hand than the useless things on my desk. Now I suggest you stop worrying about the dumb gifts here and send this to Master Jean, now.” Kayea’s eyes narrow, he doesn’t mean for it to come out as harsh as it had but he can’t help it. He feels the weight of the outcome on his shoulders even though it wasn’t his fault to begin with.
“Y-yes sir, I’ll inform master Jean right away!” The young man stutters, quickly gathering the report from Kaeya’s desk.
You hear quick footsteps approaching the door and quickly turn around, opting it was best you didn’t go in there to give him the chocolates. You know he didn’t mean it the way he said but you didn’t want to burden him with more things he doesn’t want, he has so many gifts already anyways, it’s not like he’d notice probably the smallest box he’d get missing.
You quietly move to the entrance of the KoF doors slipping out just as Kaeya’s office door swung open.
Kaeya lets out a sigh, slumping back on his chair. He glances at the abundance of gifts on his desk, feeling a heavy pit in his stomach. He feels bad for what he just said. He knows the stuff he receives is far from useless or bothersome; he just said it in the heat of the moment. He truly cherishes the gifts he receives.
He finds himself looking through them and smiling to himself, though he finds himself looking for a specific box in particular. A small heart shaped box that he gets every year, your name written on it along with some of the best dark chocolates he ever tasted inside. The very gift he definitely looks forward to every year. He loves teasing you for it every time and seeing you get nervous without fail. you’ve been doing so for years and it’s something that only he gets to enjoy doing. Seeing your flustered state makes him want to tease you even more.
“Where is it?” He whispers, lifting one gift off another, separating and moving boxes thinking he might’ve missed it but he finds no trace of your gift in the pile he has before him.
Now that he comes to think of it he’s been so busy running around all day he hasn’t even had a chance to see you.
The sound of footsteps echoing down the halls was heard outside his office and he shot up from his desk, hoping that maybe just maybe you had decided to deliver his gift even though it was a bit late. But, as he exits his offices he’s met with Lisa heading out of her office, a piece of chocolate in her hands as she carries her stuff with her to the entrance.
“My Captain Kaeya it's late, I suggest you go home for some rest.” She teases though she knows how much stress both he and Jean are under at the moment.
Kaeya only looks around to see if maybe you’re here too, but it's just him and Lisa in the empty hallway.
“Don’t stress too much about the situation Kaeya, take a break.” She sends him a warm smile, seeing his shoulders slump a bit, look of disappointment written on his features.
“Easier said than done I suppose.” He laughs, sending her a charming smile of his own and she rolls her eyes. “Besides you should be one to talk, look how late it is and you’re barely leaving as well. Isn’t it unlike you to do overtime?” He crosses his arms and she laughs waving him off.
“Overtime is not for me sweetie, I just sat back and enjoyed the chocolates dear y/n had delivered a while ago is all, I guess I lost track of time while enjoying them.” She explains, bringing another piece of chocolate to her lips and taking another bite.
“Y/n stopped by? They dropped you off chocolates already?” Kaeya’s brows draw together, why didn’t you deliver his than? Why did Lisa get hers but he didn’t?
Lisa tilts her head getting the hint that Kaeya hasn't received his box yet, though earlier you excused yourself to deliver his box off.
“Did they not stop by your office earlier to give you yours? I thought they did, I mean they excused themselves after dropping mines off to deliver yours.” Lisa asks confused as to why you didn't drop his chocolates off either now.
Kaeya’s hand stills and he remembers his conversation with the young knight not too long ago.
“How long has it been since they left your office?” He asks, hoping her answer is not what he thinks.
“Not too long ago, I'd say 30 minutes by now.” Lisa glances at her pocket watch and back at Kaeya whose eye is blown wide.
“Is something the matter?” She asks, growing concerned by the unnatural look of worry on Kaeya’s features.
“I have to go, please inform Jean i'll be back in a bit if she needs me i'll be down at y/n’s.” He turns on his heels fast and Lisa feels a smile creeping up on her face. She's been waiting for one of you to take initiative on going further with what you had going on so seeing him get this worried over missing you made her feel excited for you.
“Will do,” she calls out as he pushes the entrance doors open, wasting no time as his legs take him to the one place he needs to go to. “Take care of my dear y/n for me, yeah?”
He didn't expect you to be there, to overhear his conversation. He knows you heard though because why else would you leave without stopping to see him?
He knows you listened and you heard what he said because without fail, every year no matter what you'd give him his box. If you heard him call the gifts bothersome, it was sure to make you think twice about giving him them. He knows you better than anyone, if you felt like I'd burden him, that would be the last thing you'd want to do. But he can't accept that, he takes back what he said because a gift from you is one he can never find bothersome, it's one that brings him the most joy.
The thought of you stopping your cute tradition or gifting them to someone other than him made him feel nervous, left a bad taste in his mouth. Though he knows you and how understanding you are, he can’t stand the thought of you not being there anymore. This small thing he’d always thought he’d get wasn’t there for the first time and he felt scared to lose it, to lose you.
His long legs take him down the alley to your house, it wasn't too late as of yet so he decided to make a quick pit stop two places before going. You always gift him things so it's his turn to return the favor.
Your tense shoulders relax upon feeling the hot water run down your back. You felt bad for the situation the knights were in, particularly Kaeya and Jean as they both shoulder more responsibility than anyone else.
As you change into your pajamas you glance at the small heart shaped box on your bed and feel silly once again. Though you know Kaeya most likely didn't mean what he said you felt bad for always pestering him with your gifts each year.
Now that you look back on it it makes you slightly embarrassed for even giving him them as he probably didn't even eat them let alone pay much mind since he received so much from others. Also such gifts on a day like today were meant for more romantic reasons, you knew he'd never see you in that light if anything and even if you made his slightly more special than the others you made you knew you didn't stand a chance.
You sit by the small box, removing the towel from your head. You lean over a bit, stretching your arm to reach for the small box.
“Should I give them to someone else? I don't want these to go to waste.” A small pout forms on your lips, not knowing if it'd be best to eat them or throw them out, maybe gift them to someone else. Any of these options would leave you feeling guilty either way since you didn't give them to the one person you made them for.
Your finger tugs the ribbon that was neatly wrapped around it when a loud knock at your door made you jump up, box being thrown to the side as the noise scared you out of nowhere.
You stood still, glancing out your bedroom window to see nightfall already upon you, your eyebrows drawn together confused as to whom it could be.
The knocking continues, making you take a reluctant step forward.
“I’ll be there in a second!” you call out, kneeling down and picking up the small box you threw, making your way to the door.
“Sorry, I took a whi-”
“Special delivery.” A breathless Kaeya cuts you off and you freeze.
His hair was falling from the small ponytail he wore it in, his hands held a beautiful bouquet of flowers and a small red box.
“Kaeya? Uh I- what?” you blink, did your ears deceive you? Do your eyes deceive you? Why was Kaeya here? Why was he holding flowers and a small red box? But most importantly why was he out of breath?
“Kaeya what's going-”
“I'm here to deliver these to you, courtesy of me.” he flashes his charming smile your way and you blink again.
“For me? I- um d-don't get me wrong, thank you but you really didn't have to do this…” you feel your heart rate pick up, your face feels hot and you can't bring yourself to look him in the eye.
“Why not? It's only appropriate since you give me things every year without fail, it's about time I do the same.” he states, dead serious now and you swallow nervously. The small box you were holding behind your back fidgeting in your hold.
I didn't even give him his chocolates this year! What am I supposed to say? I can't accept that I feel bad. Your mind races as you feel guilt now crawling its way up into your stomach as you find the proper words to say.
“But I- I haven't given you,” you look up at him and see him already smiling at you, his dumb handsome face makes your breath hitch. “-I didn't get the chance to drop off your chocolates earlier.” you admit, lying a bit but you couldn't tell him the truth. If he found out you were eavesdropping he'd probably get upset.
“I aware, I noticed you didn’t stop by today and I was looking for your box earlier.” He admits, chuckling to himself feeling somewhat embarrassed for admitting it aloud.
“What? My box? But you have so many other gifts, why were you looking for mine?” You ask, feeling your face heat up again.
“Yeah I’m thankful for all the gifts I receive truly, but your chocolates are my favorite. No one makes them quite like you do, you know.” He states matter factly leaning down a bit to get you to look him in the eye again. This bastard knows he’s making you embarrassed. He just wants you to look at him as he does so as punishment for not delivering his chocolates earlier.
“Speaking of your famous chocolates, why didn’t you deliver them? Did you not make them for me this year?” He asks, quite scared of your answer. He was hoping you’d still have them, and kept them just for him and him only. He hopes you didn’t give them to someone else because he wouldn’t know what to say or do if you did.
“No I did!” You quickly say, feeling bad for not doing so earlier, he went through all this trouble and you could’ve prevented this if you’d just given them to him when you went earlier.
“I-I did,” your hands squeeze the box behind your back and you look down at your feet. “Truth is I was there to give them to you but you sounded somewhat busy earlier, I didn’t want to interrupt or put more stress on you than-“
Kaeya’s leg gently opens the door a bit more as you speak. Leaving you standing with your arms behind your back as Kaeya leaned on your door frame. You were subconsciously inching back and closing the door as you were speaking and he wanted to see you more clearly, he didn’t want you hiding away.
“Don’t assume that you’d make me stressed.” His voice is serious and you swallow nervously. “Just because you hear me talking to someone about something that upsets me don’t assume you’d do the same at all, ever. I look forward to your specific box of chocolates every year, the small heart shaped box that only I receive. When you didn’t come to give them to me it made me realize how I don’t want you to ever stop. I want them every year.” You feel your breath get caught in your throat, you peek up at him and the look in his eye makes you want to crumble.
His features look so soft as he smiles at you, the genuine look in his eye making your stomach erupt with butterflies. His tone is serious and soft, making you feel even more nervous.
“I have them,” you pull the box from behind you and stretch your arms out to him. “I didn’t want them to go to waste. I’m glad you look forward to them because now I have a reason to continue making them every year.” You admit, a smile forming on your lips and he blinks at you feeling his heart skip a beat.
“Happy Valentine’s Day Kaeya I hope you enjoy the chocolates I mad-“
In an instant you feel his arms wrap around you, squeezing you close to him feeling his chest rumbling from the chuckle he let out.
“My y/n, you’re truly the first person I’ve ever bought anything for on this day and you still manage to make me feel nervous.” He laughs, pulling back a-bit to look down at you.
Bringing the flowers and small box back into your view as he did so soft smiling playing in his lips. “Now, do you accept these flowers and my heart? Will you be mine?” He asks, his own heart racing against his chest, only spiking up when you beam up at him with that smile he adores so much.
“I always have been, it just took you long to notice.” You giggle and he brings his hand up to your cheek playfully pinching it before leaning down and placing a light kiss where he pinched you.
“I think you’re the one who took a while to notice it sweetheart but you’ve always had my heart, since the very beginning.” He admits, his own face heating up at his confession but it’s all worth it when he sees your burn a beautiful bright red shade.
You bring your hand up, gently placing it over his racing heart. “Happy Valentine’s Day Kaeya.” Your other hand holds up the familiar small heart shaped box and he can’t help but let his smile widen at the sight. The box he’s gotten for so many years, and so many more years to come. Your chocolates will always be his favorite.
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authors note: hello my lovelies ꒰´꒳`∗꒱!!! happy early Valentine’s Day hehehe :3 I gift you this soft Kaeya fic WOOO ( I needed to give u guys a break from angsty OHMY sorry for the overload LMAO) this is a bit different from what I originally planned on writing but I actually ended up liking it so it’s ok! (disclaimer this isn’t proof read so apologies for any errors!!) I do hope you all enjoy though! remember to stay hydrated and stay safe!^~^<33 hehehehe now, if you’ll excuse me I’ll happily be spending Valentine’s Day with my husband Kaeya (ㅅ´ ˘ `)♡
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buckets-and-trees · 6 months
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haunting thoughts on Silent Screams
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read it here: SILENT SCREAMS IN WILDEST DREAMS
Fandom: MCU Characters/Pairings: Bucky x Reader, side of Steve Word Count: 8k Content Warnings: dark dark DARK tale, smut, main character death, rough sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, creampie, talk of wounds, slight dub/con, elements of somnophilia
RECAP: A dark tale with an unhappy ending. Just when you’ve married the man of your dreams, only just closed the chapter of your honeymoon, happily ever after is wrenched away, and you’re met with a nightmare you never could have imagined.
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I published this in late November 2022, but I worked on it on and off between other projects for about six weeks from concept to research to writing. I wrote it for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor's Hallo-Cream Extravaganza, which was a cool challenge because there was a collection of numbered images you could choose from, and then when my image was confirmed, there was a prompt to go along with it.
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It was also my first time participating in a challenge since getting back into writing fanfic. When I thought I was getting the sun alone, I was thinking vampires, but when I got the phrase along with the image, it halted the vampire idea I thought I would go with, and since I was already going to re-evaluate, it got my mind going even more. At the time I was also redefining a lot of pieces in my life and I had signed up to go solo on this 5-day retreat to a cabin in the woods... I ended up talking about some of the research and concept ideas for this fic on the six-hour drive to and from that cabin with a girl I carpooled with (we talked about so many things as you do with a stranger you just met when you're both going to the same retreat and want to save on gas). But I'll put the rest under a cut so as not to spoil for those who haven't read it.
When I realized it wasn't going to be vampires, I really wanted to then get totally outside of the box of things we see all the time. I decided I wanted to look up Scandinavian folklore as I was also trying to throw off some of the USAmerican culture I'd just been sitting in my whole life and explore some of my ancestral heritage. I figured there had to be a ton of stuff I'd just never learned about or heard of before and of course there was. One of the ideas I have buried for another day is to do kind of a Grimm or Phillip Pullman thing and do an anthology retelling of some of Scandinavian folktales because they were fascinating, and there were elements I was familiar with alongside very new pieces. It was so cool to begin to uncover the stories there...
But I was looking for a story that would also fit my prompt and lend itself to Bucky x Reader application.
I found the Gengångare. The lore is that they're a revenant/walker, and particularly in the Swedish tradition they're a corporeal form of a spirit that comes back after death. The spirit would have been murdered or killed and came back for mixes of revenge or unfinished business. That I could give Bucky - going on a mission, being killed, and having both revenge he could seek (against still living HYDRA folks who tormented and used him) and unfinished business in a promise that he makes to you, his reader newlywed bride, to come back to you.
And so the story begins with what I was hoping to be this blissful newlywed haze - the first morning after your honeymoon. Bucky is leaving for a mission - he'd said they were leaving later than he's actually going to leave because he didn't want you to get up hours before you needed to in order to send him off, but he does wake you up to share some kisses and say goodbye, it gets a little more heated, but there's no time for smut since he has to go, but he promises to pick up where you to left off when he returns, and there we have the tie he makes to come back to you.
I listen to music heavily throughout the day, but I wrote this fic with some very specific music through different sections. And for the opening, I was listening to This Love by Taylor Swift because its very romantically evocative for me, but some of the lyrics I knew could also be ripped into the horrific elements of this story, and so I truly loved it for that even more! - this love is good/this love is bad/this love is alive back from the dead
Then there are some other deep musical cues that when I was writing the rest of the fic, I was literally listening to these songs on repeat - a track from Black Panther: Wakanda Forever, two tracks from Netflix's The Empress series, etc - and so I actually embedded the Spotify players for them at particular parts for the particular songs. That's the only fic where I've so heavily "scored" it.
I put into the narrative that they didn't recover a body from Bucky for what I never specifically defined but figure was an explosion or an accident of some sort where not finding a body would be believable - but it's the Gengångare Bucky escaping. His undead soul seeks some revenge first, then he's pulled back to your door, but I wanted/tried to imply that he moves by these motivations and doesn't really remember much until he encounters something. So he shows up back on your doorstep, and it's as he interacts with you that he remembers more and more pieces of himself that are added back into the primal gengångare motivations.
The sex after he returns is frequently more rough and desperate, but since you're just as desperate for him, you don't question that it's the fact that his nature has changed - no longer human, but a creature that needs to leech the energy of another living thing to survive. He doesn't realize it at first either. But the first night he returns, his body is very cold, and he gets warmer the longer he's with you.
His bruises haven't healed, and you notice that, but he brushes it off. There's an inadvertent pinching on your back that's the beginning of the marks he can't help consuming you. He's truly insatiable, but since you were so consumed with grief and so deeply and desperately in love, you don't question it. When you finally do bring up having Bruce examine him or bringing Steve into things, he doesn't want that and presents good reasons - not wanting to be a body poked and prodded, and not wanting to worry Steve until he has more of his memory cleared up.
There's only a little bit of Alpine in this fic, but Alpine can tell that something is wrong with Bucky and so she is not around when he is at all after he comes back. The sex is exhausting, but it's because it's with this creature form of Bucky taking more and more of your life.
And then the spill of the story/the reveal. And it's all discovered when you're basically doomed by your love. And he literally makes love and fucks you to death, and is still so in love with you while doing it. Very sad. And his goodbye is the same goodbye he said to you in the first scenes of the story.
This was the darkest thing I'd written up to this point, and I really just wanted it to feel gothic and doomed, but twisted up in this all-consuming love. As I knew where the story was headed, I sort of just took deep breaths and steadied myself to dive into letting it have its dark ending. And I loved taking it there even though it was kind of scary for my first time. It was very haunting to write and I really tried to convey that feeling and have it bleed through.
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↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
read more from the Dark Forest Fest
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yanderend · 1 year
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Male Yandere Worshipper x Gender Neutral Reader
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Kazuo, The Worshipper ; First Encounter
Requested by an anon
The Worshipper has a fragile heart, it doesn't take much for him to break down.
His home is especially strict, with rules that complicate even the smallest of tasks— and that's overwhelming enough, but with the harassment he gets at school and work he's always at the brink of an emotional meltdown.
So one morning, when he's preoccupied with watching his step in an alleyway slightly overgrown with nature he bumps into you.
Realising that he's managed to knock you down, he immediately panics! Today's already been particularly stressful, and now he's hurt a total stranger!
'Oh no oh no— I'm so sorry, please forgive me...' Kazuo pleads, knealing down to help you up. 'It wasn't on purpose, I swear! I-' He's on the verge of hyperventilating, so you quickly say something to help.
'Oh, hey, no, it's okay!' You hush, picking yourself up with his assistance. 'It was my mistake, I was in a rush...'
You dust yourself off with one hand, and keep holding onto him with another.
The Worshipper is instantly soothed, your gentle touch as your body-weight rests on his arm becoming the only thing he can focus on.
Did you really just forgive him? When was the last time someone forgave one of his mistakes? Come to think of it, it had been uncomfortably long since someone had so much as thanked him for something. No wonder he was close to breaking.
'Are you alright?' You ask, backing off when you notice his body shaking.
Kazuo takes a sharp breath, and forces himself to look at your face; the last thing he'd want to do is be impolite to someone so kind...
But as his eyes meet yours he is consumed by a feeling of epiphany— the way the sun from the end of the alley gave you a halo effect was far too fitting. In his mind, he was in the presence of something far greater and far more gracious than a normal human.
'I'm... I'm perfect. Thank you.' Kazuo's voice is barely above a whisper, completely entranced.
Taking that he's feeling okay, you take that as your cue to keep moving.
'I'm sorry— I'd love to make this up to you, but I've got to meet someone at the café now. I hope we meet again.' You wave, and leave him standing in the alley.
A moment passes, and Kazuo grounds himself. He blinks away the tears that welled up during the exchange, and brings a hand to his heart.
Beneath his robes, he can feel his heart hammering— but it's not out of anxiety, it's something completely different.
He needs to see you again. Was it the café, you said you were at?
The Worshipper can feel his feet move before his brain can catch up. He might be returning late to the shrine, but he can deal with that hardship, so long as he gets to make sure you're safe.
You did say you wanted to see him, after all. It's not strange to want to fulfil that request.
'It's just this once,' he whispers to himself, tentatively watching you sip your drink through a window. 'I promise...'
Bonus: General Headcanons and Trivia
The Worshipper works at his family's shinto shrine, and is put through a lot of physical labour there. He's built up some toned muscle due to all that work, it's just not what you'd expect from someone that looks so scrawny with all the layers he wears.
He was constantly tormented through his school years, and is relieved to finally be seeing the end of it, as it's his final year. Thankfully, he hasn't dealt with much abuse at school this year, but there are still some unsavoury types that take their frustrations out on him— so the stress isn't fully gone yet.
He has experienced pressure from childhood to be both spiritual and successful; it's definitely gone to his head, and upon meeting his darling everything makes sense to him. You were the missing piece— the real reason for him living!
He's a crybaby and much prefers to admire from afar, sending notes and small gifts as 'offerings'. Kazuo would really rather avoid any confrontation, with you or anyone else. God forbid you were to turn away his attempts at affection- he'd rather die.
The Worshipper isn't completely void of possessive behaviour though, it's just rare. It'll take someone genuinely posing a threat to you, or seeing that you might reciprocate feelings for someone else for him to act on it.
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shina913 · 1 year
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On Tilt, Part 4 | KNJ
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On Tilt, Part 4
Definition: a poker term for a state of mental or emotional confusion or frustration in which a player adopts a suboptimal strategy, usually resulting in the player becoming overly aggressive.
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On Tilt Masterlist
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Pairing: Namjoon x Fem!Reader
Rating: M 🔞
Genre: idol!AU; strangers-to-FWB-to-lovers; toxic relationship; angst; fluff; smut
Warnings: cussing; vulnerable confessions; explicit and suggestive sexual conversations; making out; heavy petting/groping; unbelievable amount of cheesiness and fluff--it's disgusting how these two have it so bad for each other!
Summary: You’ve said time and time again that you wouldn’t lose yourself to him. You were in control now. You were going to make better choices. For a minute there, you were able to keep up with it. It wasn’t ‘til Namjoon’s extended break that you found yourself falling into old habits. Will you ever learn to quit Kim Namjoon?
Word count: 3,570 words
A/N: I'm sorry...this came out wayyyyy cheesier than I intended. But hey, I've been writing a lot of angst lately, I wanted a change of pace! This is the song they sing to. Namjoon posted it on his IG stories a while back 🙊
ALSO!!! Please don't be a silent reader! My inbox and DMs are open. Comment, reblog, scream at me, send me an emoji--whatever. It fuels me and motivates me to continue writing! 😘
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[Namjoon] 6:05PM: Can’t wait until this album is mastered and goes through print. It was fun and all but…damn, I really miss you.
His text made you grin at your screen like an idiot.
He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d be busy. He was practically on lockdown finishing up loose ends on a couple of tracks and going through each soundwave with a fine-toothed comb.
That was how Namjoon was. He was always passionate about his work, and always wanted to constantly evolve. He loved art but was never one to be content with stagnation. He wasn’t going to be locked into four corners of a frame.
You admired that about him…but it also scared you in a way. In the back of your mind, you thought, maybe it took him a while to come around to this agreement because he didn’t want to be tied down to begin with.
It was a daunting and disappointing thought but you brush it aside when his follow-up text comes in.
[Namjoon] 6:07PM: What do you think about a quiet night-in at my place? I’ll order dinner and we can just hang out. No more boners, I promise 😇
That elicited a laugh from you. Truthfully, you didn’t mind it but you had to stick to your guns.
[You] 6:08PM: 😋 Sounds good, I can’t wait! Missed you, too.
[Namjoon] 6:10PM: I also got a new firepit installed on my balcony–totally safe, BTW. No open flame! I just push a button 😅
You laughed again.
[You] 6:10PM: Oohh cozy!
[Namjoon] 6:11PM: It is! I also got some new furniture and a blanket with our names on it.😏
[You] 6:11PM: Sounds romantic…
[Namjoon] 6:11PM: That’s the goal 😘 I’ll see you in two days.
******
“Fuck…” you croaked after coughing up icky, yellow-green mucus into the sink. This was bad, you thought. Namjoon was supposed to pick you up tonight and you woke up this morning feeling all foggy.
Yesterday, you thought the scratchy throat was brought on by allergies. You took an antihistamine before bed to stave it off. But now, you were all congested, looking like death after mere hours.
“Hey, are you okay in there?” Lani asks out of concern from the other side of the bathroom door.
You open it to greet her and she looks horrified when she sees your bloodshot eyes, pale skin and overall disheveled appearance.
“Really? It’s that bad?”
“I mean…” The look of hesitation on her face all but confirmed it. 
“Damn,” you groaned. “I was really looking forward to this date, too.”
Immediately, she tries to sound consoling. “You know what? I’m sure he’ll understand. It’s that time of the year, everyone’s getting sick.” 
Sure, she made a fair point. She was a nurse at a hospital and she knew all too well that this year’s flu season has been particularly brutal. You were just glad that you didn’t feel bad enough to require hospital admission.
But for some reason, that thought wasn’t comforting enough. “It’s been over three weeks and I really miss him,” you whined.
Back then, you’d go long stretches without seeing Namjoon and it wasn’t a big deal. You just shrugged your shoulders and thought you’d catch each other again ‘next time.’
Lani puckered her lips comically and glanced below your waist. “Guess you’re regretting that 5-date rule right about now, huh?”
You rolled your eyes at her. “Shut up,” you dismissed her before walking past her to go back to your room.
“Girl, who cares? It’s not like you had a contract or whatever. Nobody’s taking you to court if you break your rule–”
“Yes, but I know it! And Namjoon knows it! And…”
“Okay, okay, I’m only teasing,” she backed off. “Want me to make you some chicken noodle soup before I take a nap?” Lani had been picking up extra shifts in the evenings since they had been short-staffed at the hospital.
While soup sounded good, the concept of sinking yourself back under your covers seemed more appealing.
“Nah, you go and sleep. I’ll order from the food app or something. I just had a little bit of yogurt before I took my cold medicine.”
“Alright. Just set an alarm every 3.5 hours, if you want to stay on top of it,” she yawns.
******
“Joon, I can’t tonight…”
Delete.
“I woke up sick, can we resche–”
Delete.
“Ugh, why is this so hard? Just be straight with him,” you say to yourself before finally typing up a text to Namjoon.
You checked your watch again. Around this time, he was on a plane coming back from a schedule. You couldn’t afford to wait a few more hours until he landed because he’d be coming straight from the airport to your place.
[You] 10:15AM: I know that we were really looking forward to tonight but I just came down with the flu. I feel like crap and I don’t want to get you sick. Can we do a raincheck in a few days?
You send it off and sink back into your blankets to doze off.
******
Somewhere between naps, you are awakened by the smell of food. You checked your watch for the time–it was too late for lunch and still early for dinner. You figured Lani ended up making you soup…she was such a saint. You didn’t deserve her love! 
Next, you reached for your phone to check for calls. There were a couple of ‘hope you feel better’ emails from your team and a voicemail from Jia saying that she could drop off stuff at your door if you ever needed anything.
Oddly, there was nothing from Namjoon even though the notification below the text that you sent to him indicated that he read it over two hours ago.
You felt crestfallen that he didn’t even acknowledge it. You wanted to send a follow-up text to ask about his trip but thought you’d go and have a couple of bites to eat so you could take your next dose of cold medicine. 
You wandered out into the kitchen, fully expecting to catch Lani as she headed out the door for work. 
Your coughing announced your presence. “That smells good. Are you…" You are stopped dead in your tracks. "Joon?” 
He turned around with the biggest grin on his face. “Hey, how are you feeling?”
“W-wait, what are you…I thought–” You stuttered.
“You think you can get rid of me that easily?” He chuckled.
You laughed hoarsely. “I wasn’t trying to get rid of you. As you can see,” you open up your arms, as if presenting yourself to him, “I don’t look so hot right now.”
He took two strides and rounded the kitchen counter to get to you. “Do you think I care about that? I was looking forward to spending time with you and I wanted to do everything I could to make that happen.”
You wanted to swoon on the spot…until you noticed that he wasn’t wearing a face mask.
“But wait…you’ll get sick?”
He laughed softly, curling his arms around your waist. “I’ll be fine, baby. The whole group just got over a virus–and it missed me!”
You scoffed. “Oh, right–and with my luck, it’ll be me giving it to you.”
He shook his head, giving your hips a light squeeze. “You won’t. Aren’t you glad to see me?” He pouted his lips.
His subtle gesture made your belly flutter and your cheeks warm up. Glad to know that everything was still in good working order, you thought.
You gave a small smile. “Yes, of course.”
He flashed his dimple before kissing your forehead.
Taking your hand to urge you towards the kitchen, he says, “C’mon, I brought something that I thought might help you feel better.”
You took two steps before, realization sank in. “Hold on–how did you get in? Is Lani still here?” You’d been asleep for hours.
“No but I called her and,” he hesitates for a beat, “I…kind of… met her…at her workplace to borrow her keys?” He drags out slowly.
You eyed him suspiciously.
“She was cool with it and all she asked me to do was leave the key up on the lip of the doorframe so she could get in tomorrow morning.”
With a soft sigh, you nodded, appreciating the effort. Your eyes suddenly shift towards the kitchen, remembering what brought you out here in the first place. “D-did you cook?” These were words you never thought you’d ask him.
He threw his head back and let out a hearty laugh. “I wish but I don’t think you or Lani would forgive me if I burned your place down. I ordered some takeout–” He says, walking over to the counter, the bags finally coming into view. “I thought you might like some chicken pho?”
You couldn’t deny, that sounded amazing.
Sensing your acquiescence, he urges you to sit at the breakfast bar while he pours soup and noodles into bowls for both of you.
You asked if you could sit on the couch instead since you were feeling woozy and your warm throw blanket was calling your name. 
“Wherever you feel comfortable,” he replies. “I got some imperial rolls, too–I remembered that you liked them.”
“I do.” You smiled appreciatively at his thoughtfulness.
It’s been years since you both went out for good Vietnamese food. You registered the familiar green takeout bags on the counter. To most people, it looked like generic to-go bags but you recognize them coming from the hole-in-the-wall place that you and Namjoon used to go to.
After settling comfortably on the couch, he comes around, bowls in both hands and sets them on the coffee table in front of you. He turns back around to bring the pho add-ins along with the deep-fried eggrolls.
He takes the spot next to you and hands you a pair of chopsticks, which you accept. While he busies himself with the basil and lime, you couldn’t help but stare at him.
He turned his head in your direction. “You want some sriracha–what? Why are you staring?” he chuckled in curiosity.
“Nothing, I just…” at a loss for words, you just smiled, “Thank you.”
He gazed at you for a few seconds before responding, “You’re welcome. C’mon, eat up.”
******
After dinner, you tidied up together. Namjoon had music playing on your bluetooth speaker. As you reach for the rinsed dish that he held out for you to put on the rack to dry, he surprises you by grabbing your hand instead and deftly setting the bowl on the counter. A couple of pushes of a button on his phone with his free hand, he turned up the song’s volume.
Catching you around the waist, he pulls you close to him into a dance. You giggle as he sings along to the song that you recognize.
You can't disguise all the pounding of your heart, yeah I see your eyes And you can't hide
You laugh when he hits the falsetto but he’s too into it to stop.
Start to make sense and quit playing These love games… Tell me what you're gonna do, yeah
You join him when the chorus hits, dancing along to the beat. When the music dropped for the bridge, he pulls away slightly and then squints his eyes at you. He enunciates every word emphatically.
I just want to know one thing Will you be with me?
Hearing the words in his rich baritone made you catch your lower lip with your teeth. You grinned and matched his enthusiasm when you sang the rest of the words to him.
Here comes my darlin’ Here comes romance Here comes my lovin’, please honey will you dance
You pull him back closer to you, grinding against his body as the music swells again.
Then, he threw his head back dramatically to sing the chorus, “Quit breaking my heaaaaartttt…” You both burst out laughing as his voice cracks at the note that was clearly out of his vocal range.
When you calmed down, you looked up into his face. He was watching you with dark, glittering eyes.
“I love hearing you laugh like that,” he said, and you knew he wanted treasured memories like that between you. “It makes me think that I’m doing something right.”
“You are,” you assured him, even as your throat tightened at the sight of his yearning.
“I want to be that person who always puts a smile on your face.”
Slowly, you bring your hand up to cup his nape. “You already do.” With that, you pulled his mouth down to yours. As your lips touched, he hugged you so tightly your feet lifted off the floor.
This relationship may not have started out for the right reasons. You were both young and impulsive back then. 
But now, you were both trying hard to better yourselves for each other. Here was a man who wanted you both to work as desperately as you did. You were finally on the same page.
******
“The girl did it,” you blurted out decisively. 
Namjoon’s fingertips paused from drawing circles around your abdomen. “What? No way!”
You were sprawled lengthwise on the couch, watching Forensic Files. He was spooned behind you, his chin on your shoulder and his legs tangled with yours.
“I’m telling you…classic sociopath,” you told him matter-of-factly.
He scoffed. “I think it was the grandma.”
You gasped, eyes widening in shock. “Oh my god!” You tilted your head to look back at him. “She’s clearly only protecting her granddaughter!”
He grinned and smacked a kiss on your cheek. “Wanna bet on who’s right?”
You snorted. “Sorry, I’m not a gambler.”
“Aw, come on…” He rose up on his elbow to look down at you.
You tutted. “Nope! Besides, I know I’m right. I’ve seen enough of these shows to figure out a pattern.”
As you scooted closer to him, you felt his crotch against the curve of your bottom. He wasn’t hard, but that didn’t stop him from gaining your attention. Curiously, you reached behind you and cupped him.
He arched an eyebrow at you. “Is there anything we can do for you?”
You laughed as you withdrew your hand. “I’m just checking to see if everything is still in its place. You’ve been on your best behavior considering we’re in a tricky position.”
“Maybe because I don’t want to push you too far and scare you off.” Namjoon’s eyes glittered from the light of the TV screen.
“How considerate of you.”
He nuzzled his nose against your temple. “I’m willing to wait however long. Five, ten, twenty dates…whatever you want.”
You wriggled your body to face him. “What about what you want?”
“I thought I made it clear last time that I only wanted you?”
You try to stifle a smile but are spectacularly failing at it. “What if I decided to scrap our no-sex agreement,” you whispered. Your pointer and middle fingers did a ‘walking’ motion up on his chest. “Would you think I was being too easy?”
He watched your fingers then shifted his eyes back to look into yours. “I’d be too busy thinking how lucky I was to have the privilege.” He traced your eyebrow with the tip of his finger.
You seriously considered it. Lani was right, it wasn’t like breaking your agreement would have any legal repercussions. You were both adults!
You cleared your throat in an attempt to strengthen your resolve. “Could we settle with a makeout session for the time being?”
“Make out? What are we, in junior high?” His head fell back and he laughed, his chest vibrating against you. It was a husky, deep tone, your toes curled at the sound of it. 
You pushed at his shoulder. “Come on! Nobody makes out anymore. Everyone just wants to get right into fucking. Don’t you miss that feeling of being so into each other but aren’t quite ready to go all the way yet?”
He slow-blinks at you, wondering what point you were trying to make.
“You know, when I was in the 8th grade, there was this boy—“
“I’m going to need to stop you right there,” he cuts you off. “I really do not want to think about other people kissing you.”
You purse your lips and apologize. “I’m sorry…” Your hands crept under his shirt, gliding over his warm skin. Your lips moved against his jawline. “So…does that mean that you don’t want to suck face?”
“Baby, I’ll suck on any part of your body I can get my mouth on,” he answers point-blank.
“Why don’t we start here for now,” You tap your finger against your lips and he takes them, sealing his mouth softly over yours. His tongue traced the seam, then dipped inside, licking and teasing.
You burrowed into him, moaning when he shifted to lie half over you. 
Your hands slid up and down his back, your leg lifting to hook over his hip. You caught his lower lip between your teeth and licked the curve with the tip of your tongue.
The low growl he let out made you wet.
Your back arched as his hand slid underneath the hem of your hoodie and captured your bare breast, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
“Are you sure you didn’t plan this,” he murmured. He kissed his way to your temple, and then buried his nose in your hair. “You’re making it really hard to last through two more dates.”
You pull away from him briefly. “Listen–I had no idea that you were coming over, okay,” you argued. “I didn’t know I had to be in proper underwear around you.”
He chuckled at your defensiveness. “I’m kidding,” he plants a quick kiss on your lips. “Can we just continue making out?”
You narrowed your eyes playfully at him. “You’re lucky, you’re cute.” You pushed past his joggers to squeeze his butt. The heat of his skin and his natural scent was a heady mix for you. It made you feel drunk with lust and need.
His mouth covered yours and you fisted at his hair, urging him closer to you with your arms and legs wrapped around him.
“I want you so much,” he rasped in between kisses.
You moaned in agreement, your mouth moving feverishly against his.
Namjoon held you with one hand at your nape and the other at your waist. Settling over you, he aligned himself against you and rolled his hips to your center.
“Mm, that felt so good,” you groaned, nails digging into his flesh while your insides clenched.
“Imagine how much better it would feel inside you,” he purred.
You nipped at his lower lip, giggling. “Are you trying to convince me to go all the way?”
“I can slide right in,” He sucked gently on your throat, making your core tremble hungrily. “You don’t even have to do anything. You can just lay back and watch me do all the work.”
It was incredibly tempting. He was rock-hard and you were primed and ready for him. All he needed to do was hook his finger to your leggings’ waistband.
You playfully puckered your lips and arched an eyebrow at him. “Hmm…I don’t know. I’m not that kind of girl anymore.”
His hand squeezed your hip bone, eliciting a light squeal from you.
Brushing his mouth over yours, he whispered, “If you don’t like it once it’s in you, I promise I’ll pull right out.”
You scrunch your face humorously at him. “Do people still fall for that line?”
He stared back at you in all seriousness. “You know I’d never feed you lines. I mean every word.”
You gripped the curves of his butt and rocked up against him, making him purr in excitement. Reveling in his playfulness, you teased, “And do you say that to all of the girls?”
His eyebrows knitted. “What other girls?”
“Oh, you know…” you sighed, “You’re Kim Namjoon, international idol. All these women, screaming for you to walk into their waiting arms.”
“You say that, and yet, I’m here in yours,” he lifted his head, his fingertips brushed the hair from your temple, “...where I belong.”
His words hit you like a freight train. You swallowed hard and whispered, “Fuck, what a line! Fine, go ahead and put it in.”
He pressed his forehead against yours, his breathy laugh warming your cheeks. “It’s unbelievable how crazy I am about you.”
You smiled back. “Well, believe it, because I am, too.”
You spent the rest of the night kissing and groping each other like horny teenagers but never went all the way. There was just something thrilling about that youthful, almost forbidden intimacy.
Hours later, you fell asleep in each other’s arms on your bed. You woke the next morning to the sound of his phone going off—work was calling and he had to leave.
As he prepares to head out, he tucks you back securely under your covers, and plants a kiss on your forehead.
When he pulls away, you utter, “Hmmm...I love you,” in the midst of your cold medicine-induced haze.
Before he could respond, you drowsily rolled over onto your side and fell back to sleep. You would wake up nearly an hour later, completely unaware of your words or whether he said anything back.
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rocketrecord · 7 months
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From Jackie issues 497 and 498, published 14th and 21st of July 1973. Transcription under the cut because why not
PART ONE: THE first time I met Elton John's mother, Sheila, she was busy making baked beans on toast for everyone who was visiting his house, Hercules, on the Wentworth estate just outside London.
Elton quickly explained that baked beans on toast, no matter how successful he was these days, was still one of his favourite meals!
Elton's mother is now moving to a house nearby, so she doesn't have to travel so far to see him.
Also when Elton is away, as he frequently is these days, his mother always stays in his home to look after it for him.
Sheila remembers her son's expertise at cooking when he was younger. She may now still cook him a quick beans on toast, and John Reid his manager and friend may make the grander meals, but Elton used to be and still is an expert at baking.
"When he was at school and I was out at work I often used to come home and find the kitchen full of flour and pots and pans, and there were all these cakes!"
Elton's mother remembers too that he first started playing the piano at an amazingly early age.
"He was playing all the pop tunes when he was three. We used to send him to bed, then he'd get up and play at family parties. The funny thing is that I can't play the piano myself, but my father played old military music
"When he was a bit irritated as a baby my husband would let him beat on the piano -Elton's little legs used to be hanging from the piano stool! In those days, of course, you weren't allowed to perform in public before you were 13 years old. I think without that law he could have been a child star. He could have won several talent shows I'm sure.
"It was when he was about eight years-old that he lost interest in music totally because he had the wrong teacher, but I managed to find a new one when he was 10 or 11 years old and she let him play all the pop stuff. I think other people had been forcing him into the classics when all he wanted to do was play pop. It just seemed to go very, very well after that and he took an interest again."
Even now Elton's mother plays a part in his musical career.
He always plays me over tapes of new material that he and Bernie Taupin have put together, and asks me what I think would make the right single."
Elton has alwas been very close to his mother, and they were talking eagerly about the “grand opening” of his new swimming pool. The pool is beside his large lounge and has been almost a year in the making.
Sheila's favourite Elton John album? Appropriately it's called the Elton John album!
"I love sad music," she told me.
"'Elton's alwavs been a sensitive and thoughtful person, and this comes out in his songs-particularly on that album. I've always enjoyed a good cry at films and things.
Even her house was named after an Elton John song track, Hienton." It was gold lettered on wood and Sheila is so devoted to it, that it's being moved to her new home at the back of Elton's.
Another person in Elton's life is moving closer to him as well:
Bernie Taupin, the man who writes all the words in Elton's songs.
Until recently Bernie insisted on staying up at his little cottage in Lincolnshire but has now been persuaded to move nearer to Elton so they can work more easily.
When we met, Bernie and Elton were just preparing to go to France and record at the same chateau where they made their album Honky Chateau.
"There will be a lot more rock'n' roll on the next album." Elton assured me.
Elton always keeps a sense of humour when he's talking about himself.
I’m not exactly your thin. lean, lank pop star," he laughed. hated my hair when it was long. So I had it all cut short and just lately I've had some green streaks added to each side just above my ears.
I think that mould green and orange go together!
"I guess I see myself as cuddly - certainly not sexy! I imagine that's why the audiences never try to rip my clothes off. Mind you, it's lovely because I've always had. young fans, especially up North.”
Elton told me of a recent dinner he'd had with a hero of his--the famous American comedian Groucho Marx, who was one of the Marx Brothers, whose films are often seen on television. Groucho is the one with the large black hat, moustache and cigar and the funny walk.
"It was while I was over in California and was renting a house at Malibu Beach. He agreed to come to dinner and although it was 100 degrees outside, they said that as he was now an old man he'd want a log fire burning in-doors. So we had to light one.
"He sat down in the lounge in his coat and his beret and insisted on calling me John Elton. He was amazing - you never quite knew whether he was taking the mickey out of everything
"Then I also met another famous old screen star Mae West. She was incredible. She must be eighty if she's a day!"
At his home Elton keeps two dogs. Bruce, the alsatian and Brian, a spaniel, and he's bought his mother Sheila a Yorkshire terrier called Fanny.
Whenever you call there they're apt to come bounding in from the garden demanding attention-especially from Elton, because he has to be away from home so much, they like a lot of his time when he is there.
Usually when guests are at his house they have to be kept out of the way, but they were allowed to bound into the room on one big occasion recently. That was when David Cassidy, his lifelong friend Sam Hyman and Rod Stewart came to dinner.
"David has his own dogs," ex-plained Elton, "and he was delighted to meet mine. They immediately sensed he liked dogs and made a great fuss of him.”
Next Week: The dinner party with David and Rod.
PART TWO: THE pop dinner party of the year took place at Elton John's house 'Hercules? on the Wentworth estate in Surrey, just outside London.
There was Elton, and there was Rod Stewart and there was . . . David Cassidy!
It was Elton's idea to get all three pop stars together during David's recent tour. He'd met David in California last summer and the two singers have become close friends.
David's visit to Elton was the closest kept secret of his tour. And one of the biggest attractions was Elton's jukebox, which he keeps in his large games room at the front of the house. Elton keeps the jukebox stocked with the current top twenty in America and England as well as some golden oldies. And David especially liked playing those old Beatles favourites, like Love Me Do. Please, Please Me and Yellow Submarine.
Elton let me into a secret: "I had an idea during David's tour that it would be nice to join him up on stage and play the piano for him. It never worked out but I thought it was a way of showing him how much ! liked him and liked his work. A lot of people knock him but I think he's very talented.
However, Elton may yet write some songs for David.
"Now I've got a record company, which I've called Rocket Records. I'm producing and I've written a song for Kiki Dee. I'd always written for myself before, and now I'm starting to write for other people, I don't see why I shouldn't try and do something for David. In fact I've written three songs for Kiki, so Bernie, who writes the words, has had to imagine he's a girl for those songs!"
Rod Stewart had told Elton that he'd like to meet David so Elton thought the dinner would be a golden opportunity.
Another guest at the top level dinner party was David's friend since schooldays, Sam Hyman, who flew over to Britain for the last few days of the tour. Completing the party was Elton's friend and manager John Reid, who did all the cooking!
What was the menu? A good English meal of roast beef followed by strawberries and ice crear with coffee and pear brandy to finish. The guests had red wine with their main course. Elton says the evening was very high spirited with David not leaving until four in the morning!
"I think David is really great," said Elton.
"He really works as hard as a navvy, you know. He's certainly not an idiot. He knows me now, but when I first met him he was so paranoid: he'd shut himself in his house for a year and a half because he was scared to go out in case he got ripped to shreds!
"When he came down for dinner he was completely at home, playing records and joking although he was very tired because it was at the end of his tour. He did ask me to write something for him and I'd really like to.
"There is such an awful barrier because he is a pop star. You have either to be a heavy group like Led Zeppelin or a pop star.
But what people don't realise is that he's a very good musician. The reason why I'd have liked to have appeared with him is because I'd like to have made a gesture to show that I appreciate his talent. I hate these musical barriers in pop music.
Elton has been spending this month in America on holiday.
“I like to go out there to California for a rest once a year. I'lI probably see David again then, although he's started work on 'The Partridge Family' again which means he works eighteen hours a day- he has to go into the recording studios when he's finished up at the film set. As I said, he works amazingly hard.
"I love Los Angeles, just for a month.
I just sit by the pool, go surfing and once a day I go up to Sunset Strip and visit the most fabulous record shop in the world called Tower Records. It's like a warehouse and has all these piles of albums. It seems to have every record in the world, past and present.
"I mostly look for ridiculous things, spoken word records and things like that literally every day. I reckon to spend half an hour a day there. I think I hold the record for record buying there. 6,500 dollars worth in a day! That was on albums and tapes.
“I’ve got this record library at home and I fancy myself as an amateur dise jockey. I did the Noel Edmonds show last Christmas, Boxing Day actually and we did the show together. I really enjoyed that.
“I catalogue everything in my collection: cross filed and everything! I'm a terrible collector of things. Actually I'm the sort of person who's got 700 bottles of Marmite and the same of Windolene."
Elton remains one of the friendliest of pop stars. It is typical of him that he has befriended David Cassidy, because he knows that stardom can bring loneliness, and also jealousy from other musicians. He went out of his way to help David and the dinner invitation was typical, also the fact that he saw that Rod Stewart was there too.
When we met, Elton was wearing a plum velvet jacket with musical notes embroidered on it. He's known for his wild clothes: in fact he can be said to have been a leader in the brighter clothes approach to pop with his gigantic platform soles and heels, his dungarees, and now he promises the wildest pair of glasses ever seen on stage.
"They plug in and have the words ELTON across them in neon! I'd also like to get into funny things like padded suits. You see, I haven't really got the sexiest body in the world so I like to have comedy in my act.
"When I toured America last, I had a tap dancer called Legs Larry Smith who used to come on stage. He was the only person who kept me sane. I get terribly bored when things get too serious.
"I have a lady called Annie who makes all my clothes. I just tell her any ideas I have and she does some drawings for me to choose from."
On the little finger on his right hand he was wearing an enormous sparkling ring.
"That's what I call my Liberace ring. It was bought at Cartier's as a present for me and it's made of gold and diamonds. It's sparkly and it's fun!'
And that's just about how you could describe Elton himself!
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rays-of-fire-and-ice · 6 months
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One thing that always hit me in Bleach fandom is that some people see Hitsugaya as a literal child in the main history, even tho we get glimpses of his childhood - and a lot of Hinamori haters use that as an argument of why hitsuhina would never happen. I particularly see him as a young teenager with an obvious problem of aging (😂) and I’m glad to see blogs just like yours that perceive his youth, but doesn't put him as a kid and also explore his feelings towards things and people who are dear to him in a way really loyal to the character (because putting him acting as an adult also give me awkward vibes, you know). Just a thing I was minding, you can take it as a compliment, I guess.
Sorry for the late reply anon!
I want to start off this response by saying for anyone who does see Toshiro as being a child, more power to them if it helps appreciate his character more.
I have to admit one of the main reason I saw him as a teenager in the beginning is because I was a teen myself when I started reading BLEACH and assumed any character who didn't obviously look like an adult/child/elder or had an ambiguous age was probably a teenager. That's probably a weird reason, but that's how my brain worked while reading BLEACH at that age ^^;
There were other factors too, like his reactions to others referring to him as a child, the flashbacks to his childhood, and that he was able to pass as a student at a high school.
His reactions in particular are what convinced me he's not a child, they struck me as not just someone who was demanding respect for his high ranking position but also as someone who's sick of people thinking he's a child because of his appearance. I've always seen it as because of his short stature and maybe a baby face, everyone mistakes him for being a child when he's actually a teenager.
As for the flashbacks, when I compare his appearance from back then to the one in the main story, to me there's a noticeable different. As a child, his eyes and face are rounded and he's obviously shorter. In the main storyline, his eyes shape changed (perhaps to reflect the change he underwent as a Shinigami), making them look more narrow and sharper, his face is slightly sharper, and he's taller (not by much but).
Then there's the recent revelation from Kubo that Toshiro is actually older than Momo. I've seen most people take this to mean he's literally older than her, which would strongly suggest he isn't a child, because then how old would that make Momo (who is definitely not a child)? If this interpretation is the correct one, then I'm okay with that. However, as I've mentioned before, I've actually taken this to mean he's been in the Soul Society longer than she has (if you're interested, you can read more on it here).
In the end, as stated many times on here, aging in BLEACH is weird. How come Unohana isn't as old looking as Yamamoto if they existed together long before the Soul Society was established? What the heck is going on with Kyouraku and Nanao's families? The list goes on.
Also, thank you for your kind words too, I'm glad that's how my writing comes across for him :D I find it interesting to explore how someone like Toshiro reacts to things, whether they're mundane or life and death situations. While not a child, he's still a minor who has put himself in a world of huge responsibility, and death and violence. How does someone that young, despite being a prodigy and having a mental maturity that's suitable for the role, think and feel about what he does? How does he view those around him? How does it affect his relationships? What kinds of memories does he keep from his past and how are they different someone else his age? It's all interesting to me.
Anyhow, I'll leave it here. Thanks for sending this in! :D
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worriedvision · 1 year
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Breach - Alhaitham (Part 2)
Part 2 of this fic! Gender neutral reader. This part is more of a build up than an actual ending, so a third part will be soon. I may or may not be tempted to write Heizou into this but shhh
--
You worked for Kamisato Ayato, and you felt like you were almost like family to them. You spend quite a lot of time with Ayaka, the sister, and she was very sweet. When she found out about your ex through looking over your shoulder when you were writing a letter to Kaveh, along with some Inazuma photography, she seems to get an interest in finding you someone.
She asks you for your type, to which you hesitate.
"Well, I don't particularly know." You giggle. "My ex was the only man I dated and had an interest in, but I think it may have been down to us just being close before the relationship..." You furrow your brows. "Does that make sense?"
Ayaka nods, thinking to herself before getting an idea.
"How about I get you a date. Thoma is a lovely guy, and he is attractive if I do say so myself." She hides her mouth behind her fan, smirking to herself.
Thoma was attractive, you must admit.
Wait.
"Thoma's single? How?" You whisper when Thoma walks by, accompanying Ayato.
"Some people are...well, picky...he isn't originally from here, you see." She explains, closing her eyes as she finishes the sentence.
--
"My lord, if you don't mind me asking, why are we giving this... Alhaitham... A chance?" Thoma asks, reading from the letter. "He's already demonstrated late attendance, and _ has been doing a great job!"
"Well, this man has more experience in paper." Ayato blankly explains. "I'm sure he had his hands full."
Thoma knows better than to ask if Ayato thought you were incompetent, nodding to himself before thinking up a way to keep you there.
He didn't want you running back to your ex, not when your ex was part of your driving force to come here.
--
"_, I must apologise for this news." Thoma states. "My Lord has chosen to take on board another scribe. I am on the lookout for any places needing your-"
"Can they be my scribe then?" Ayaka jumps in. "Please, I think it would be beneficial given the tasks I sometimes do."
Thoma smiles, nodding as he realises that with Ayaka there, Ayato wouldn't be able to refuse the offer.
You feel Ayaka judge you, gasping, and you follow her eyes only to feel your heart sink
He had come.
--
Ayato sat across from Alhaitham, clearly unimpressed by his blatant reasoning for deciding to take this job after not responding to the letter to at least voice an interest in the work the Kamisato Estate had to offer.
"I am only here to look for my lover."
"And what, pray tell, does this have to do with work?" Ayato stares daggers into Alhaitham.
"I am simply stating my reason for accepting this job." Alhaitham stares back, not caring for the social difference between them both.
"And why shouldn't I just send you on your merry way back to Sumeru? It's clear you intend to go right back once you find them." Ayato observes.
"Because I am the best of the best." Alhaitham states.
"How charming." Ayato blandly sighs. "Very well, I shall humour this."
--
"_, I've got a crush on that scribe." Ayaka confesses, trying to hide her blush with her fan as she looks over at the man following Ayato as his boss seems to be giving him a lot of work at one time. "Oh goodness, I shouldn't be staring like this - it isn't very ladylike of me." She realises out loud.
"Don't worry!" You reassure her. "I'm sure you could fish for some information from Lord Ayato." You continue.
You somehow managed to hide the fact this man was your ex. You didn't dislike Ayaka, and you knew she wasn't usually all that interested in the suitors available in Inazuma.
"Oh, I have a date set up for you." She excitedly exclaims. "This evening, I have set up an evening plan for Thoma and yourself. I'm sure you will both enjoy it." She smiles, you nodding before you return to writing out your next letter for Kaveh, detailing the fact Alhaitham took your position without even giving you a heads up.
In the letter, you disclose the fact you're going on a date with a man called Thoma, and you were very much looking forward to seeing how it would play out. At the end of the letter, you clarify with Kaveh that you knew Alhaitham was one to be nosy with the mail if he needed some information, so you didn't particularly blame Kaveh for what happened.
You seal the letter before taking a walk to get it sent away.
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