#-an hour instead. Its so good man the only reason i stopped reading is bc if i dont go to sleep now ill pass out lmao

[camzverse]

apologizing in advance for the person i will become when the next pjo show season comes out

[manonblaqkbeak]

Dating and Goodreads

Back for Day 8-Blind date (how the hell do u guys come up with good title fics i struggle so bad lol). I wasn’t really going anywhere with this one, but when i read all of the others and saw how fun the fics were, i decided to finish this one.

also for Summertime and Fresh Strawberries, I deliberately left it blank but I can’t hold onto the secret bc two people were curious as to what happened, so i’ll let the rest of you know that aelin and rowan decided to keep summer and be a cute little family, bc im a sucker for happy endings lol (unless its angst, it’s safe to assume that all my rowaelin fics have happy endings bc they’ve all ready been thru so much and even in alt fics i need them to be happy lmao)

anyway, on to the next one. hope you enjoy!

1.8k words

cw: none

Aelin was a confident woman, something that she was proud of. But that didn't mean that there weren't times she didn't feel self-conscious or awkward and full of doubt.

Because right now, all those negative feelings were swimming inside of her.

And those feelings were just magnified today, especially since she had gotten fired only a few hours beforehand. It was utterly unexpected, she had never received any prior warnings, and while she was a fighter, Aelin didn't feel like stepping into the ring for this one. Not when her boss was a demon from hell that made life unbearable and she had to physically push herself into entering the work building.

Aelin told herself that it was for the best. She was miserable there and hated working in an office typing up the worlds most boring reports and working in a space that was entirely too drab.

But she wasn't looking forward to job hunting. Aelin was aware that she could ask her friends for favours, but if Aelin did something wrong, she didn't want it reflected back onto whoever helped her.

And she was still a little peeved over the damned argument she had online again with that haughty prick on Goodreads. Aelin wasn't sure why those arguments kept going, but each time she would post a review, White Tailed Hawk would respond, telling her that she read the book wrong and this and that and blah blah blah.

Aelin repaid the favour each time, telling him how he was wrong and he had no reading comprehension skills. And on and on it went until Aelin or whoever the fuck that guy was went back to their own lives.

Depressingly, it was the most fun she had some days.

Shaking her head, Aelin forced herself to think of the now and not of her shitty day. Still she sighed, not quite believing that she had agreed to this blind date. Couldn't believe that she had let Aedion convince her it was a good idea.

Aelin had said no at first, after Aedion had voiced his offer, and her cousin left it at that. But days went past, and he would bring up the topic of Rowan, about the things he had said that day, how his dry sense of humour took some time to get used to but once you figured it out, he was actually pretty funny, how he had finished a project perfectly and this and that.

But it got to her, annoyingly. So the other day when he was helping her out with some housework that was a two person job, Aelin told him to set up this date. Aedion cheered as if it was the best thing he had ever heard, telling her how she and Rowan were the perfect match for each other.

Aelin rolled her eyes, but didn't say anything of the assessment.

She had only agreed because it was getting frustrating being asked at every family event if she was dating someone, when she was going to give her parents grandchildren (that question pissed her off the most, as if Aelin was nothing but a birthing machine and that was all Aelin could contribute to society), and who was going to look after her when she was old if she didn't have children (because apparently carers didn't exist).

Aelin was also lonely—she could entertain herself just fine, but she did like the idea of coming home and talking to someone that could respond. She loved Fleetfoot and her enthusiasm when Aelin came home, but human companionship would be nice.

But Aelin didn't have high-hopes for this date because the universe liked to kick Aelin's ass from time to time, she suspected that they were going to hate each other.

Taking a deep breath, Aelin got out of her car, smoothed down her romper and went inside the restaurant, head held high.

X X X X X X

Rowan couldn't believe that he was about to go on a blind date. That Aedion had convinced him to go out with his younger cousin. He hadn't dated anyone since Lyria and he knew that his dating skills were going to be rusty as hell. He had been with Lyria since they were nineteen, married at 23 and divorced at 31; he had been single for the last two years.

It had been...fine, a little strange, after being with someone for so long to find himself a bachelor. Rowan never thought that he would apart from Lyria, but their relationship had just faded. Long before the divorce, it had been more like a housemate relationship than a marriage. He wasn't surprised when his ex-wife had come home after work with divorce papers. He had only stared at the paperwork for an hour before he signed the forms. Truthfully, Rowan was just glad that he was still on good terms with Lyria, that they could still talk to one another from time to time.

Rowan had almost called her earlier today, to ask how the hell dates went, but felt that it would have been crossing some invisible line, so he didn't call and instead had Googled the questions instead.

They didn't really help.

Rowan drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, telling himself that if things went wrong, then it wasn't the end of the world. That if he had to be a bachelor for the rest of his life, then that was fine. He had plenty of ways of keeping himself busy—he had a good career, a nice house, plenty of books to read and to argue online about them with.

He had one earlier today, actually, with Queen of Wildfire about a new release that Rowan had eagerly read within days of its release. And once again, he ended up with an argument with the woman about the messages and themes within the book.

It was stupid, he knew, to be at his age and to be fighting online with a stranger, but something about this woman just had his fingers flying over the keyboard.

Some days he looked forward to it, as embarrassing as that was to admit. He didn't really want to look into himself to figure out what it all meant.

Eyes drifting to the dashboard, Rowan realised that his date was about to start. Popping a mint into his mouth and smoothing out his clothes, Rowan took a deep breath and left the car and went to his first date in twelve years.

Hopefully, it wouldn't be too bad.

X X X X X X

The date had started out a little awkward, but that wasn't a surprise to Aelin, because what blind date started smoothly?

It picked up after Rowan admitted that he was divorced and that he had no idea what the hell he was supposed to do. Aelin appreciated that stark honesty and admitted that she too had no idea what to do.

Since then, the conversation went well, the food was good and Aelin had even swiped a few bites of his dinner because it just looked so much better than hers. Rowan had playfully grumbled underneath his breath, but smiled as he said it.

It was going really well. Maybe the universe had decided to give her a break for the rest of this evening. There was a part of her that maybe wondered if they would have sex, because the man did look fucking fantastic, but at the same time, she didn't want to rush anything in case this actually turned into something more.

“What's the dumbest thing that you've done recently or in the past?” Aelin asked. There was no such thing as small talk between them—Aelin had all ready asked if he believed in aliens and was glad when he said yes, because “it's ridiculous to think that we're alone in this wide universe of ours. It makes sense that there'd be other lifeforms out there.” Which was pretty damned close to Aelin's reasoning as well, so asking him about stupid moments felt like nothing in comparison.

Rowan smirked at the question and took a moment to think before answering. “I engage in online arguments.”

“Really? About what, exactly?”

“It's stupid. But my all my arguments occur on Goodreads of all places. Not Facebook, or YouTube, or Twitter, but Goodreads. It's never anything insulting but just arguments about how wrong some people's in depth reviews are.”

“Fair enough,” Aelin said, “I've been known to do the same thing as you. There's this one user on there, White Tailed Hawk—a stupid name if you ask me—and he just never...” Aelin stopped when she noticed that he stopped eating and was just looking at her weirdly. “Rowan? Are you okay?”

“Do you, by any chance, go under the name of Queen of Wildfire?”

Aelin blinked, and then blinked again, and once the pieces fell into place, she knew right then and there that the universe really hated her. She let out a harsh laugh, the sound echoing throughout the space. Aelin wasn't really sure what to say, because it was true what he said; it had never been insulting, but ending up on a date with the man she had regularly arguments with was just...she had no words, other then, “It really is a stupid name.” She took a sip of her wine, needing to do something other than wanting to bang her head against the table.

“I couldn't think of anything else to write.” And it wasn't also his favourite animal, he had told her that earlier.

They lapsed back into the awkward silence of earlier, both picking at their food.

But Aelin didn't want this night to go to waste. “It'd be stupid to let something as small as this get in the way of whatever this could be,” Aelin said, deciding to be blunt.

Rowan nodded. “It would be. Although I have to be honest, you really have no idea what you're talking about when it comes to Call of the Wild Winds.”

Aelin just about stormed off when she noticed his playful smile, his eyes sparkling bright. Laughing, Aelin threw a bread-roll at his handsome face, and once he caught it and split it in half for them to share, they went back to their earlier conversation.

And when Rowan walked her to her apartment door and kissed her on the cheek goodnight with a promise to text her later, Aelin couldn't help herself by telling him that all his opinions sucked and that he had no idea what he was talking about—all with a big smile on her face as Rowan sputtered as she closed the door on his face.

They spent the rest of the night texting, and all of Aelin's earlier woes faded away. And she looked forward to tomorrow, despite the horror of job hunting. Maybe the universe will finally let things turn around for the better for her.

Aelin went to sleep with a smile on her face, all because of White Tailed Hawk.

And on the other side of the city, Rowan also fell asleep with a smile on his face.

[kyun-toast]

[ATEEZ] as University Students

a/n: I love college AUs but I'm British so I thought I'd chip in w some painfully British uni lad ateez

Hongjoong

Besties w his tutor

Got his life down on lock

One of those ppl that are always on top of their work, have acc done the reading and gets good grades but is still rlly cool and has a social life ygm

But thats only bc he lives in the library

Has a designated seat and there's an unspoken rule amongst the students that that's HIS spot, nobody sits in it

Often seen napping at said library spot

So well dressed. He’s one of those students that always catches your eye around campus or lecture halls

Bc he’s just so well dressed for a uni student running on 0 hours sleep and red bull

Probs studies smth like joint honours music and philosophy

Also Vice President of smth like filmsoc

Friends with the baristas at Starbucks bc he’s just in there for caffeine all the time

We all aspire to be like student hj, just more sleep pls

Seonghwa

Voted most eligible bachelor amongst students

Famous around campus just for being so pretty

He’s one of those ppl you see on like the first day of uni and it’s an instant crush

But you’ll never be able to do anything abt it you just have to admire from the other side of the lecture hall

Actually speaks up in seminars bc he’s done the reading sat next to hongjoong in the library

He looks like he’d play tennis for uni and varsity tickets would sell like crazy bc so many ppl have crushes on that man

He’d bring his lil meal prep packed lunches to uni lol what a little sweetheart

Been pictured in the uni prospectus at least once

Hongjoong makes him go w him to freshers fair for his society to use as bait so he stands there handing out leaflets for a soc he’s not even part of

Yunho

Doesn’t know what’s going on half the time he’s just happy to be there

This is v evident in lectures. Professor could be going on and on in a stats class and he’ll just sit there smiling

His gaming setup takes up most of his room and is also where most of his money goes

Texts u at 4am like hey u wanna get pizza

And you know he’s up at that time bc he’s been gaming all night

Still gets good grades despite the fact that all he does is game?

You ask him how he does it and he’s just like idk?

You are perplexed.

All soft in cute jumpers and hoodies but one day you’ll see him suited up at a formal and wow heart eyes

Super fun at parties too, have u seen that man dance?

You have multiple videos of him twerking

Yeosang

That mysterious boy at the back of class that doesn’t speak a lot but whenever he does its always smth smart af

Types really loud on his macbook

Looks like he doesn’t have any friends

But outside of lectures he’s always w friends that look equally as mysterious and cool

No one on your course knows anything abt him

But you see him at a house party once and he’s just stuffing his face w food having a great time

Feel like his alcohol tolerance is super low

Two shots and he’s out cold

And then you’ll see him again at some niche soc social like basket weaving or smth

Works part time at a cool clothing store like allsaints or cos

Chicken shop connoisseur, knows the best places in town

San

Actually studies rlly hard, i can tell he always gives 110% on whatever he’s set his mind to

Soft student always in oversized hoodies, spinning pens, v enthusiastic and pays attention in lectures

But when hes w wooyoung oh man

The enabler, 110% attitude towards drinking too

Pours drinks w 80% alc 20% mixer

“my mother didn’t raise a quitter”

Type to sprint home from the club bc he doesnt wanna waste money on uber

Will make animal friends otw and bring them home

You wake up and come downstairs the next morning and theres just a pigeon in your living room

On the athletics team which is why he may find it instinctive to run home when he’s drunk

San would like for there to be a greggs on campus

Mingi

ALWAYS napping in lectures, seminars, during lunch, in the library, u name it

Knows the best spots for it tho.

You didn’t know there was a secluded spot w bean bags under the stairs at the back of the library until mingi told you

Never missed 9am lectures but will nap through them instead

Gets freshers flu every year and the cough lasts for months

You hear someone cough in the room over and ur like oh, well there’s Mingi

Gives you the best advice at 4am in the library

Also best cuddles

Studies smth like aerospace engineering but regrets it bc he didn’t know what he was getting himself into

Considers dropping out every exam season but always pulls through w good grades?

Wooyoung

Bnoc thats all i have to say

Has like 4k followers on ig

Always running around campus for no reason

Woo and san together at parties u know its going to be buck fckin wild

Always got ppl swooning over him but he just wants to have fun!

No time for relationships! Only alcohol!

When he studies tho? £3 meal deal and writes 2 sentences kind of guy

Business management OR marketing student I can feel it in my bones

The type to tell u funny stories in a silent library and it takes everything in u to stop laughing

Ppl will look over at you two and youre just holding your breaths on the verge of exploding

Security will kick u out at one point

Tight w the local kebab shop bossman

Jongho

Brings everything in a backpack to uni like a year 7

Need a hole punch? Ask jongho. Painkillers? Jongho. Assortment of multi coloured pens? Jongho

Writes the best notes

They're all colour coordinated in different folders for different modules

All the office ladies dote on him bc he’s so sweet

They all offer him tea and biscuits

Youngest but is the voice of reason in the group

Wy will be like do u wanna get drunk in the library

And jongho is like bro ur deadline is tomorrow are u ok

The type to be filming all the other guys when theyre up to some questionable stuff for the memories

Feel like he’d be on committee for whatever course he’s studying

I get pharmacy vibes from this boy

Got job offers lined up for when he graduates

[adorerdraco]

Distractions and O.W.L.S ✧ Draco x Reader

Summary: You start neglecting yourself and Draco when you begin stressing for O.W.L.S. The studying finally took its toll on you that landed you in the hospital wing but Draco helps you end the night on a good note. 

Warnings and Perks: being stressed, over studying, fainting ! and corniness

Words: 2K (sorry for any mistakes its 3 AM !!!!!)

A/N: omg i am currently working on some requests and on Healing Heart 4, but i’ve had this scenario stuck in my head all night bc i was listening to a slowed down version of stuff we did from UP and so i thought id share it with everyone since i havent posted in like 2 days <3 do not own gif but pretend that you and Dracoooo <3

It was the beginning of June, weeks away from O.W.L.S, which meant weeks away from another ending of a school year at Hogwarts. What bothered you the most wasn’t the fact that you had homework piled up to the ceilings, or that Snape has been snapping at you all week and took away 5 house points from you, or that you were drowning in a sea of textbooks and notes that you kept studying for your upcoming exams; it was the fact that you had barely seen Draco in nearly two weeks. You were so busy with schoolwork and focused on getting outstanding marks, you hadn’t even realized you were neglecting your own boyfriend. 

Of course, the two of you would find each other in the Great Hall during breakfast and you’d give him a quick hello and goodbye kiss faster than he could even register what was happening and by the time he did, you were already out the door and rushing towards your first class. At this point, you were acting like the white rabbit from Alice in Wonderland, always frantic and in a rush. Your hair was wild and untamed, you had dark bags under your eyes from the all-nighters you were pulling, your robes and clothes underneath were in disarray and wrinkled.

To make it worse, you never let Draco study with you. He constantly asked and you always gave him the same answer.

“If I study with you, I’ll never get anything done.”

Which was true. He was very distracting with his quiet jokes in the library, or when he would look up at you with his sparkling gray eyes when you would try to ask him a question that just flew from your mind at the sight, or smile at you with a wide toothy grin that lit up the room when you got sidetracked and talked to him, or the way he rested his hand on your thigh when he would sit beside you while you quietly read or wrote but the only thing you could focus on was his fiery touch. Really, it wasn’t him who would distract you; it was you who distracted yourself with him. And that was evident when you tried to remember everything you’ve learned in the past school term and came up blank because for some reason your brain only retained information and memories that contained Draco throughout the past year. 

So you figured a little time away from him wouldn’t hurt. Because if you didn’t pass these O.W.L.S, you felt like everyone would be disappointed in you, especially yourself. So you locked yourself away in your dorm and crammed and jam-packed your brain with information until you eventually passed out hunched over a book with drool blurring the ink on your pages. You avoided the library for studying, knowing Draco would go looking for you or Madam Pince would distract you halfway through your note taking to kick you out for the night.

Mornings always came the same, you waking up randomly over your desk a few minutes before breakfast and changing into a new pair of robes as quickly as you could while trying your best to smooth your hair down with your hands. This morning was different, however. You woke up to one of your roommates shaking you violently while she spoke your name loudly above you, but it sounded distant. You shot up in a hot flash, wiping your mouth of any saliva and groaning when you started to feel the pounding in your head that seemed to shake up your whole brain. “Thank Merlin, you’re awake!” Your roommate exclaimed in relief. “You looked dead, honestly. But class is starting in twenty and you’ve missed breakfast.”

“Twenty?” you frown, letting your swelling head fall into your hands. “I don’t want to deal with Snape right now, I feel awful.”

“I’m going to try to say this as nice as possible,” she sighs, placing a hand on your shoulder, “but it shows.”

“Thanks,” you scowl. You try to get up from your chair but gasp in pain as your muscles cramp at the movement like a rickety old man. 

“Maybe you should go to Madam Pomfrey,” she suggests, trying to help you up but you shoo her. 

“No, I’m fine,” you rush to interject. “I will not be missing Potions, no.”

She gave you a shrug, backing away in defeat as she let you rush to change into new robes and attempt to brush down the matted mess that’s supposed to be your hair but gave up halfway through and threw it into an updo. The headache was not a good combination with the scalp pain from combing out knots. Your roommate waited for you with pitied eyes, following closely behind you as you hurried out of the room and towards the exit. 

You sped walked out with her but didn’t see the mop of platinum blond that was waiting for you outside the entrance of the common room. You had zero awareness of his presence until his hand had reached out to hold onto your wrist, stopping your near sprint towards the class. Your roommate stopped too, eyeing the two of you and the look on the Slytherin’s face before she continued walking. 

“What? Draco, let go,” you move away from him and he quickly drops your arm. “I’m going to be late.”

You began to walk away from him, but he stepped in front of you, stopping you again.

“Why weren’t you at breakfast?”

“I overslept,” you answered gruffly. “Now, move! If I’m late, Snape will have my head on a stick.”

“Y/N, you need to slow down,” he frowns, “all this studying and rushing around everywhere is going to land you in the hospital wing. You look sick already, I’m worried.”

“I’m not sick!” You huff, throwing your head back in irritation. “If you really cared about me, you’d let me go to class instead of insulting me.”

“I’m not insulting you. Am I so terrible to tell you that you look like you’re about to pass out any second?”

“Yes, you are terrible,” you sneer, the pounding in your head was getting stronger each passing second. “Instead of-”

Your train of thought was violently stopped in its angry tracks, you stumble back and begin blinking hard at the spots that quickly started to dot your vision. Your hand instinctively reached out towards Draco, which he grabbed and hurriedly darted forward towards you, gripping onto you before you could meet the ground, your vision going black and your consciousness out the door.

Draco felt himself begin to panic. He promptly began to feel guilty, feeling like it was his fault that you even fainted in the first place because of the argument he had accidentally started.

He gathered you up in his arms, one arm sliding under your knees and the other under your neck as he swiftly picked you up and began his frantic journey towards the hospital wing.

When he got you to Madam Pomfrey, she instructed him to set you down on one of the beds and kicked him out of the room while she started her treatment. His heart was beating so fast, he wanted nothing more than to stay by your side so he halfheartedly threatened her with his father and she ended up letting him stay with a deep sigh while he stood idly by your bed. When Madam Pomfrey was done, she left the two of you alone. Draco wasted no time in sitting at the foot of your bed, his hand finding its way into your cold one that laid limply beside you. He watched your sleeping figure with a relief as he noticed that whatever Pomfrey gave you had speedily began to affect you. Your skin no longer looked ghastly and dull, but healthy again and tinged with pink. The dark circles underneath your eyes had faded just a little bit, leaving only slight bags as you finally slept. 

He waited maybe 12 hours for you to wake up. After missing his first class, he had decided to go to the rest of his classes as Madam Pomfrey swore to him up and down that you would not wake up any earlier. He begrudgingly obliged and skipped all his meals instead to spend his short free time with you. When his final class ended, he almost ran back to the hospital wing. He occupied the rest of his time with a book he had found thrown somewhere around the room. The book was long forgotten the second he felt your hand twitch and your body begin to stir, your tired e/c’s looking around the room in confusion before landing on him. He scooted himself closer to you, brushing a loose strand of hair out of your face as he looked at you with pure concern. It was the same look he had when he confronted you earlier and with that one look, you were able to recall everything that had happened before your collapse.

“I’m sorry I said you’re terrible,” you croak out sadly, your hand wrapping around his wrist and squeezing it gently.

“I’m sorry I made you faint,” he says. “How are you feeling?”

“That was my own fault,” you chortle, “but I feel really good. I know I fainted and all, but I feel much better with whatever Madam Pomfrey gave me.”

“I can tell,” he smiles, moving himself a little back as you sat up with a newfound strength. “She said you can leave when you wake up.”

“Good, now help me out of this bed.”

Draco took your hand and you hopped out of bed excitedly, turning towards him and giving him a tight hug that he returned twice as hard.

“If you’re not too tired, can I show you something?” He asks from above you, his arms still wrapped strongly around you.

“Yes, please,” you answer with a nod against his chest.

Draco steps away from you before taking your hand and walking the two of you out of the hospital wing and towards the stairs that led to the astronomy tower. When you reached the top, huffing, and puffing, he asked you again if you were okay to which you answered with an eager nod.

"Tonight is a blood moon,” he smiles, pointing up towards the very large orange and reddish moon in the starry night sky. It shone brightly but still gave off little light in its wake, the astronomy tower was almost dark, but you still managed to see the blond perfectly, he was watching you with a happy and loving glint in his eyes that you were able to notice. “I was planning on asking you to see it with me tonight, but we kind of ended up elsewhere.”

You threw yourself into his arms, your face buried deep in his robes and the heat radiating off his chest warmed you up in the comfiest way.

“You’re the best, Dray,” you mumble into the cloth of his robes, the clothing vibrating underneath you as he chuckled. You pulled away and gazed up at him, smiling when he placed a kiss on your forehead.

The two of you unknowingly began to sway back in forth in each other’s arms, his hands resting on your lower back while yours were looped loosely around the back of his neck.

“You scared me today,” he begins quietly, “and every day since you’ve started your studying.”

“I know,” you frown, “I’m sorry.”

“Promise me you’ll stop overworking yourself,” he says softly. “I know you’re scared you’ll fail, but I promise you won’t. You’re one of the smartest people I know and I know you’ll get outstanding marks on everything.”

“You think so?” you ask hopefully, your eyes trained on the burnt orange moon as you took in his words.

“I know so.”

A few more minutes of silence pass by, your head now leaning against his chest as the two of you still danced silently. And as if he read your mind, Draco began humming a soft and off-pitch rendition of Claire de Lune. You would laugh every time he forgot a note and would go silent for a moment before backtracking and humming it correctly.

You don’t know how long the two of you stayed up there dancing slowly in each other’s arms with Draco trying his best to hum the top classics of the classical’s, his lips finding yours every now and then to kiss you longingly and tenderly, but one thing was for sure; it was bliss. 

Maybe distracting yourself with Draco wasn’t such a bad thing.

[zedwards]

MOVIE DATES WITH STRAY KIDS

stray kids x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 1.8k

warnings: intended for male reader, but can be read as gender neutral; my first fic 👉👈 im nervous; lowercase aesthetic; does “bastard” count as a swear word..?

i hope you enjoy this little gift :)

bang chan

he likes romantic comedies

tbh being chan’s s/o would feel like a romcom of its own

since he doesn’t like crowds, your movie dates together usually wouldn’t involve actually going to the movies

instead you’d probably both opt to stay in for the night and watch a movie on the couch

under multiple blankets

in each other’s arms

hugs and cuddles

with the occasional kiss on the top of your head

it’s so soft

it’s chan :)))

he does the little claps at the end of the movie

because happy endings ^–^

y’know those awkward scenes where the main couple meets for the first time?

he likes to point out which character you were most similar to when the two of you first met

“i didn’t know you were in this movie!”

“you look so different! i could hardly recognize you!”

he’s such a dork

all your movie nights would end in one of three ways:

1.) you falling asleep in his arms

2.) him falling asleep holding you close (yeah not really, this man doesn’t sleep that much T_T)

or 3.) you both make it through the movie, and one of you says something like

“this is nice...i wish we could just stay like this”

and so you both (in theory) fall asleep right where you are

either way, chan is the best boyfriend and neither of you know what you did to deserve each other

lee know

he’d get you to go see a horror movie

even if you protest, he’d manage to convince you somehow

pokes fun at you every time you get scared

during a suspenseful part in the movie, he’d suddenly put his hands on your shoulders and shake you (lightly) out of nowhere, just to startle you

and he’d have to stifle his giggles because your reaction is just too priceless

absolutely relishes in how you never let go of his arm

like ever

seriously, his arm might as well be an extension of your body at this point

he may act like he’s annoyed

but he loves it

cuz he knows it’s because you feel safe with him

and if you hide your face in the crook of his neck

he’d get this look on his face...

something between an evil smirk and an amused grin

why? because his plan is working

plot twist: the whole reason he chose to see a horror movie with you was so that you would cling to him

surprise!! >:]

but even if you catch on, he’ll never admit it

tsundere

“did you even see any of the movie?”

you just kinda grumble in response, still latched onto his arm

“i can’t believe it... i so generously paid for your ticket, only for you to hide your face the whole ti- OW!”

you jab him in the side with your elbow give him a “love tap” :)

but it’ll take more than that to get him to stop teasing you about it

he’s a cocky bastard but you love him to death for it

seo changbin

superhero movie!!!

like something from the mcu

seeing him get so excited/invested in the movie??

wholesome

but he might get a little too excited

in other words, going to the movies with changbin is an...interactive experience

meaning that he talks at the movie

not to the movie, but at the movie

like...he talks at the characters on screen

as if they can hear him

honestly it’s kinda cute

but occasionally you have to remind him to keep his voice down

“HE TRIED TO TELL YOU NOT TO TOUCH THE STONE”

“shhhh alright calm down a bit-”

“...AND NOW YOU DEAD”

“changbin i love you but please don’t get us kicked out of the theater”

10/10 would have his arm around you throughout the movie

even if his arm goes numb, he’d refuse to let anything stop him

“changbin, you don’t have t-”

“CUDDLES.”

lowkey feels like a pillow

bc he beefy

on very rare occasions he might fall asleep during the movie

if he does end up dozing off and you catch him in the act, he’d deny it profusely

he likes to spontaneously slip his hand into yours :)

and lace your fingers together :))

you’re holding hands now :)))

his presence is just so warm and fuzzy and you make each other so happy

hwang hyunjin

THIS MAN

the funnest(?) most fun bf in existence

he’s definitely the type to try and smuggle outside food into the theater

he insists that he’s inconspicuous about it

and he tries to be

but he’s not :)

“uh... hyunjin, why are you wearing two hoodies?”

“i uh... i’m... cold?”

“so you’re sticking bags of microwaveable popcorn in between your sweatshirts...to keep warm?”

*visibly sweating* “i can explain...”

ok ok

so y’all seeing a comedy

why?

because HIS LAUGH OMG

it’s so bubbly and contagious

so naturally, you’d both be laughing up a storm at the back of the theater

and sometimes it’s because of the movie

but most of the time it’s because of the side comments the two of you keep making to each other

and it doesn’t help that he keeps making these ridiculous observations about the characters in the movie

“what’s up with that guy?”

“what about him?”

“why is he built like a refrigerator?”

about halfway through the movie, you both reach that delirious state where literally anything and everything becomes funny

even if it’s not supposed to be funny

...especially if it’s not supposed to be funny

the two of you? lowkey hyenas

long story short, you’re both asked to leave the theater not even two hours into the film :)

han jisung

action!! movie!!

finishes the popcorn within the first ten minutes of the film

that is, if he doesn’t scarf it all down during the previews

he talks through the entIRE THING

he’s always got something to say

it’s like watching the director’s commentary version of a movie

but instead of the director talking about the film-making process

it’s jisung muttering nonsense in your ear

sometimes pertaining to the movie

and other times...

“hey did i ever tell you about the time i saw a seagull eating garbage?”

...yeah, other times it’s...not

either way, you don’t mind

because you aren’t really paying much attention to the movie anyways

you’re too busy admiring your boyfriend

how could you not?

the way he’s on the edge of his seat, giving the movie his full attention...

the light from the screen flickering dimly on his face, highlighting his gentle features...

you’re the luckiest person in the world, no doubt

his eyes light up whenever something particularly cool/badass happens in the movie

but he also gets startled by the explosions every now and then

when that happens, you just look at each other for a moment

and then burst into a fit of giggles

“stoooppp!! it was loud, ok??”

you just hum in response and rest your head on his shoulder

y’know that thing he does where like...

he’s giggling, but he has something he wants to say, so he keeps trying to talk?

but his words keep getting cut off by his own laughter?

yeah... that’s what he’s doing

he’s adorable

lee felix

animated movie

a firm believer that you’re never too old to enjoy cartoons

he never lost that child-like energy/enthusiasm, which is part of what makes him such a gem

so of course, when the new disney movie came out, he knew he had to go see it with you

he would definitely load up on snacks from concessions

if you don’t stop him, he’s gonna be buying two giant things of popcorn and at least five different kinds of candy

and when he walks back to you after paying, he’d just smile brightly from behind the mountain of junk food in his hands like

“snacks :D!!!!!”

seriously though, try to keep track of how much popcorn he eats

bc he might overeat and get a stomachache :((

obviously he can take care of him self, cuz he’s an adult

but like

he loves when you look out for him

because he knows just how much you care about him

sunshine boy :((

y’all already know how much of a cuddle bug this man is

so of course that means lots of cute, affectionate gestures during the movie

skinship

holding hands

you resting your head on his shoulder

and him resting his head on top of your head

and most importantly SNUGGLES

snuggles are a must

for him, movie dates are just an excuse to be extra touchy with you

even though he never needs an excuse to get cuddles whenever he wants

because c’mon

it’s felix

what are you gonna do, say no?

kim seungmin

murder mystery film

tends not to talk all that much during movies

he’d just be so completely engrossed in the movie that he’d forget about his surroundings

but that’s not to say he won’t hold your hand or drape his arm over your shoulders

every now and then you can catch him leaning forward in his seat

with his mouth slightly ajar

it’s so endearing

but if for whatever reason you want to get his attention...

heh...

yeah, good luck with that

you’d have to maybe give his hand a lil squeeze to get his attention

and at first he’d just turn his head in your direction, keeping his eyes glued to the movie

but if you gave his hand another squeeze, he’d snap out of it

“psst...seungmin”

“mm.”

“hey, seungmin?”

“huh? yeah?”

“i love you”

if that doesn’t make his heart SWELL—

his dazed expression would quickly shift into one of pure elation and fondness

he might not respond verbally

but he’d gently bring your hand up to his lips

press a soft kiss atop your knuckles

and then lower your hand again without letting go, turning his attention back to the movie

but that bright smile of his would never falter for even a moment

he loves you too

so so much :)

yang jeongin

another one for romantic comedies

he likes it when there’s a little less “rom” and slightly more “com”

and so do you

because it means you get to hear his laugh more

oh god...

his laugh

the little giggles in between the short gasps for air...

so cute

“no. i’m not cute.”

he is very cute

probably won’t initiate any skinship

but if you do, he will absolutely go along with it

sometimes he’ll nod off in the middle of a movie

and then wake up during the credits, completely disoriented

“where am i”

“you fell asleep”

“huh??”

“you drooled a little on my shoulder, you goof”

unlike hyunjin, he’s really good at sneaking food into the theaters

like really really good

almost to the point that it’s scary

usually people try to sneak in popcorn or candy or maybe soda

well not jeongin

“hey, you want some?”

“what the- HOW DID YOU GET A BUCKET OF FRIED CHICKEN IN HERE”

“:]”

he’s not telling

like or reblog if you enjoyed ^^ feedback is always welcome and very much appreciated!

[superbabetotherescue]

Thanks, Brucie-Bruce Wayne x Reader

Word Count: 1840

Summary: You reminisce on your childhood with your best friend

Warnings: some violence, none really described in detail except reader getting punched in the face (as an alternative to getting teeth pulled), do teeth need their own warning bc they might, probably swearing but idk, kinda sad but don’t worry it’s fluffy, Bruce is a lil bitch but isn’t that kinda par for the course?

A/N: Once again this is just an old oneshot I have that I like a weird amount for no reason. You can read it as platonic or romantic it’s up to you idk but I’m lowkey thinking of making it into a series as platonic best friends so idk. I mean you’re reading it if you want it to be romantic that’s fine lmao I don’t care

Growing up one of Gotham’s elite may be a charmed life, but that didn’t mean that it was without its faults. You had spent your time being ignored by your parents, and your best friend, Bruce Wayne, became an orphan during a back alley robbery when the two of you were kids.

Or at least, former best friend.

In truth, you hadn’t seen Bruce in a while.

Well, you saw him constantly on the news and in the papers and just existing in Gotham in general, but you never got to see him face to face anymore.

Not for lack of trying, either. You sat down one night, the fifth time that Bruce had blown you off to meet for dinner in the past month, and pulled out your old photo album.

There was your fifth birthday party, a year or two after you had met Bruce in mega rich kid preschool, and there the two of you were, sharing a chair and staring at your huge birthday cake.

And the next picture, your favorite, the two of you covered in said birthday cake.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Brucie,” You had cried,  whispering to him frantically, “Brucie, I got frosting on my dress!”

You were wearing a frilly pink dress that your mother had forced upon you, and in a moment of excitement you had leaned forward a little too far, and now the pale buttercream frosting covered your bodice.

“Uh oh,” Bruce breathed out slowly, adjusting his tie, pink to match your dress, and looking down at his own tiny three piece suit.

You were panicking, breathing heavily, “My mom is gonna be so mad!”

With a quick tug to your pigtails, Bruce shook his head, “I got this, Y/N.”

He reached forward and scooped a large chunk of the cake out, turning to you and smashing it against your chest quickly.

“Ah!” You jumped backwards, “Bruce!”

“Come on, hit me back,” Bruce hissed, grabbing another handful of cake and smushing it into your face.

As his plan dawned on you, you nodded, getting your own chunk of cake and throwing it at him, laughing delightedly as it landed in his hair.

“Bruce!” Mrs. Wayne scolded, running forward and crouching next to her son, who was currently trying to wrestle you, “You’re such a mess. Ms. Y/L/N, I’m so sorry for my son’s behavior!”

Your mother merely shook her head, smiling pleasantly, “Oh please, don’t worry about it, Martha. Those two are always getting into trouble.”

Victory!

You leaned over to your best friend with a wide grin, wrapping him in a tight hug, “Thanks, Brucie!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Flipping a few pages, you chuckled at what you saw.

Your face and Bruce’s fist matching in bloodiness, and a huge gap where your teeth were missing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were twelve years old, and you had five loose teeth. Your last five baby teeth. All in a row next to each other.

And, like most twelve year olds, you had a healthy fear of the dentist.

“They want me to go to the dentist tomorrow to get the teeth pulled!” You complained to Bruce, the two of you laying in his living room under the guise of studying.

He shrugged, “You just have to get them out before the dentist, right? Just keep wiggling.”

“I’ve been wiggling!” You sat up, shaking your head, “It’s not working. I need a new approach.  Maybe Alfred can make something sticky for me to eat and the teeth will get stuck in it. Like that toffee your-”

You froze, not looking at Bruce anymore.

His hand touched yours gently, and you turned to see a small, sad smile on his face, “Like the toffee my father used to make at Christmas? That would be good. But Alfred’s working on something, I think.”

Nodding, you hmm’d quietly to yourself for a moment, “I just don’t know what to do. I can’t let the dentist pull my teeth. I just can’t do it, Brucie.”

“Don’t call me Brucie,” He scowled, but you knew he didn’t really care.

You sat in comfortable silence for a while, pushing your teeth back and forth with your tongue as the two of you thought.

“I have an idea,” Bruce stood, extending his hand out to you, “But it’s a little unorthodox.”

If he hadn’t been offering to help you, you would’ve rolled your eyes at the way he spoke.

You rose next to him, nodding, “Anything! Anything that keeps me out of the dentist’s chair.”

He took a breath, deep, slow, thoughtful. His hand reached out towards your face, thumb stroking your lips, palm cupping your jaw and cheek.

What was he doing?

And then he reared his fist back, and punched you in the face.

It hurt, that was for certain, but it was well concentrated in one place, and you coughed as you choked on the teeth, spitting them into your hand.

“There’s only four,” You frowned, counting them quickly.

“Sorry about that, Y/N,” He held his fist back out, and you saw the fifth tooth embedded in his knuckle, “You can have it back.”

With a chuckle you plucked the tooth out and pulled him into a hug, “Thanks, Brucie!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alfred had a field day with that one, you remembered, but it was still better than going to the dentist.

With a few more flicks of pages, you felt your heart catch in your throat.

Prom night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

5:30.

Your date was supposed to come meet you at Wayne Manor at 5:30 so that you could go out with Bruce and his pretty blonde arm candy.

And now it was 6:45, and he still wasn’t there.

You’d been pacing the parlor of the Manor for two hours. Bruce and his date kept disappearing to make out in various rooms, and Alfred had stopped standing at the front door and had instead begun to busy himself in the kitchen.

And you were crying.

“Shit,” You hissed, wiping a tiny smear of eyeliner out from under your eye.

You weren’t going to cry over him. Especially not after you’d spent three hours on your makeup. You couldn’t do it.

“I don’t understand why we can’t just leave her,” You heard The Blonde complain to Bruce in the next room over, “She’s totally bringing down the mood.”

“Hey, back off,” Bruce sighed, “She’s my best friend. I’m not leaving her all alone on prom night. Maybe she can just come out with us.“

“I’m not spending my prom night with some loser who got stood up by her own date.”

You bit your lip, swallowing back a sob and then speaking loudly enough for them to know they were meant to hear you, “Hey, Bruce? I think I’m just gonna go, okay? Sorry for holding you guys up.”

“Wait,” Bruce opened the door to the closet he and his date were in, running a hand through his hair, “Y/N, don’t go.”

The Blonde gasped indignantly, and you shook your head, “No, seriously Bruce, don’t worry about it. I’m just-”

“Don’t leave, Y/N,” He said again, and the solidness of his words, the complete authority in how he said it, was enough to freeze you, “I’m taking you to prom. You can’t leave me.”

What?

“What?” The Blonde shrieked, stomping her heel on the ground, “You’re not taking her, you’re taking me!”

Bruce gave her a rather pleasant smile, “Actually, I’m not. I think you’re a stone cold bitch and if I look at you for any longer than fifteen more seconds, I think I’ll vomit. Now get out of my house,” And with that, waving a dismissive hand at her, he turned to you and grinned, “Now, Miss Y/N Y/L/N, would you do me the honor of being my date to prom?”

A burst of energy running through you, you sprang forward and wrapped him up in a hug, “Absolutely. Thanks, Brucie.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Closing your photo album, you sighed.

It felt like just yesterday in so many ways, and yet a million years ago.

What had happened between you two? What had you done to drive him away? Maybe a walk would clear your head.

You grabbed your keys and left, walking the streets of Gotham and thinking of your younger days.

There was a playground where you and Bruce would sometimes sneak off to play, halfway between both of your houses. It was where you had taught him how to throw a punch when you were six, where he had taught you how to cartwheel when you were eight, and where you two had shared your first kiss when you were ten.

You laughed at that memory too, wishing you had a picture in your album of that day, when the two of you had decided to be each other’s first kiss just so you’d know what you were getting yourselves into.

You’d sat on top of the monkey bars, staring into each other’s eyes as you came to your solemn decision, and leaned forward to give each other the briefest of pecks on the lips. And then you’d both fallen off the monkey bars, wiping your mouths and gagging dramatically.

Standing by those monkey bars, you ran your hands down the side with a smile.

And then you felt the cold barrel of a gun press into the back of your neck.

“Give me all your money, and get on your knees,” A dark voice growled.

Crap.

How could you let yourself be taken completely by surprise, in Gotham of all places?

Shaking, you tried to speak, your voice catching in your throat, “I… I don’t…”

“Hey!” A familiar voice sounded through the air, cutting you off, “Back off!”

You felt the  rounded metal leave your skin and let out a sigh of relief.

Spinning on your heel, you watched as your attacker, a large man with a ski mask pulled over his face, so cliche, got the crap beaten out of him by…

“Batman?” You gasped.

Of course!

Batman wrapped an arm around you, scoffing at the thug on the ground, and shot a grappling hook into the air.

As you felt yourself fly your head spun, trying to wrap your mind around everything.

So this was why he kept standing you up. Why he always came up with some flimsy excuse. He couldn’t just tell you he was the Batman, and besides, the mystery of it all was surely an ego thing for him.

You landed outside your house a moment later, the dark suit encompassing Batman just intimidating enough for you to almost take a step back as he rumbled, “You should be more careful. Especially at night.”

But you couldn’t take his warning seriously.

Your best friend wasn’t avoiding you, he didn’t hate you, he just had a secret!

You were too ecstatic to pay his advice any mind.

And so you simply wrapped him in a hug, your arms erupting into goosebumps against the cold armor that he wore, “Thanks, Brucie.”

[satendou]

⟼  the symbol for love

⟼ the language of flowers | next

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ pairing: akaashi/reader

⇢ au: florist!akaashi, college!au

⇢ summary:  akaashi’s love language is that of flowers

⇥  masterlist

⇢  warnings: mutual pining, flowers, soft smut

⇢  word count: 8.3k

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢  a/n: okay full disclosure, this fic only exists bc @keijiskitten​ sent in a picture of akaashi surrounded by flowers at the same time that i was talking about a roommate au. we talked more about it and she suggested confessing via flowers and i went overboard with it. this is another one i’m rather fond of and was written mostly with her in mind. so thank her for the idea!

It started off with heather, hyacinths, and jasmine.

Opening the door to the apartment you had been sharing with one Akaashi Keiji for the last seven months, you were hit with the delicate bouquet of fresh flowers, purple and blue and white, all artfully arranged in a vase on the coffee table. 

“Ah, those are so pretty, Akaashi,” you murmured to the man reading a book on the couch. It was a battered copy of 10,000 Leagues Under the Sea by Jules Verne and he was already halfway through it. The TV played a black and white movie, the volume turned so low you could hear only the soft crackle of sound playing through the speakers. “What are they?”

Occupied with taking off your shoes, you missed the faint pink dust that crept over his cheeks at your praise. By the time you turned back around, it had disappeared. He had closed the book and pulled the vase closer to him, slender fingers pulling three different stems out of the container and laying them across his palm.

“Heather,” he said, handing you the purple flower. “Jasmine.” The white one was handed to you. “And lastly, hyacinths.” The final blue flower was handed over, and you held them to your nose, inhaling deeply. Your eyes fluttered and a soft smile crossed your lips as you looked over them at him.

“And what do these mean?” you asked, a teasing edge to your voice. Akaashi was both a book and flower lover, so you knew that there were meanings behind the bouquet, right down to the number of flowers. “They smell so sweet.”

Akaashi chuckled at that. He always loved your reactions to his arrangements. They were so pure and genuine, like the flowers he handled on a daily basis, and oh so fragile. Over the course of the last few months, he had picked up on your habits and emotions, noting each time you felt anxious you would pick at the skin of your lips and run your fingers through your hair, or how when you were feeling extra tired you would just throw your hair up in a messy bun or a ponytail and go about your business. His favorite by far though was when you were relaxed and at ease-- when your face would soften, your eyes would brighten, and you would look at him with a smile that squeezed his heart.

“They were for a customer today and I just liked the arrangement,” he answered, and the lie tumbled from his lips with such ease that it almost scared him. “But they mean beauty and solitude, love, and playful and sincere.” He pointed out each flower as he spoke its meaning, in the order that he had handed them to you, resisting the urge to graze his fingers across your knuckles.

He caught the flustered glint in your eyes as you stared at them and smiled in response. That was the look he adored and he worked his hardest to bring it out as often as possible, especially lately. Finals were coming up and he had never seen you more stressed and harried, staying out and up late studying or finishing assignments. The bags under your eyes caused him some concern, and he did his best to help you with things, but with a flower shop to run it wasn’t easy.

“Did you have any plans tonight? We could order in, if you want,” he offered, and hoped that the desire was well hidden from his voice. It was the weekend, and usually you spent Friday nights with your friends. That didn’t stop him from asking, though.

“Oh I’m sorry, I have a group project I have to work on,” you answered, and handed back the flowers that were still clasped in your hands. “I only came home to change and then I’m leaving.”

His heart fell, but he managed to keep his face straight. “Oh okay. I’ll see you later?”

“Uh, well I don’t know how late I’ll be, so don’t wait up,” you answered, your face the embodiment of apologetic. You wanted so badly to take him up on it, to get a break from the grueling hours of endless work, but the project needed to be handed in on Monday and no one wanted to be working on it all weekend-- not when there was studying and other assignments to be completed.

He could see the weariness on your face and took your hand in his, feeling his heart stutter when you squeezed back. Giving you a small smile, he said, “You can do this. Just a few more weeks and you’ll have a break. Just hang in there.”

“I know,” you said as you moved away from him, walking down the hall towards your bedroom. “Thank you for supporting me, ‘Kaashi. It means a lot.”

Then you were out of sight, the bedroom door closing with a soft click behind you and Akaashi was left staring at the flowers that spelled out all of the emotions he himself couldn’t express.

--

Two weeks later, you came into the apartment after a day full of nothing but stressful exams and irritable professors. On top of that, your thesis topic had been denied and you were more than a little anxious about trying to find a new one.

As observant as ever, Akaashi picked up on your mood the moment you texted him and frowned, looking at the bouquet he was currently working on. It was massive, standing taller than him and bursting with colors of all sorts. All of them symbolized love, cherishment, and a hope for the future. It was the final order for a wedding but he couldn’t care less about it all of a sudden.

Sending you a short message back, he returned to it, eyebrows now furrowed in concentration over on a different train of thought. Wracking his brain as best he could, he finished the arrangement up and called one of his employees to take it to the back, where it would be loaded up and taken to the venue. 

He helped put up the flowers on display in the coolers and then shooed the others out of the shop, flipping the sign on the door to ‘closed’. Moving into the back of the now empty shop, he pondered the flowers in stock, pinching delicate petals between his fingers as he went over the meanings for each.

Love, good health, solitude, remembrance-- it was easy for him to recall each, and he smiled as he landed on the ones he wanted. With a grace and quickness honed by years of practice, he put a small bouquet together, hoping that this small token would bring you some comfort.

And if that didn’t work, takeout from your favorite place probably would.

--

The door opened two hours after you had first texted Akaashi telling him your bad news. The response you had received had been lackluster, further souring your mood, and you were currently sprawled out on the couch moping with a mug of his tea.

Raising your brow at the way he held his hand behind his back, you took the bag he offered, instantly recognizing your favorite smells wafting from it. Your stomach grumbled, and you offered him a repentant smile because you knew he now knew you had neglected to eat that day.

Instead of saying anything about it, he just frowned before showing you what was behind his back, setting it on the table beside the bag, and your face lit up.

Pink, purple, and white seemed to pop in comparison to the rest of the room, vibrant and fresh, and you reached out, pulling one of each flower from the vase. The food sat forgotten on the table for the time being as you inhaled the blooms’ scents before offering them to him.

“Well, what are they and what do they mean?” you asked, and he chuckled at the enthusiasm written across your face. Over the last few weeks, it had become something of a ritual for him to bring home a few flowers for you, laying them on the coffee table for you to find when you got home from a late night study session or handing them to you as he left for work in the morning. 

It was hard not to appreciate how invested you seemed to be in it, and he tried hard not to read too much into it. That was far easier said than done though, especially when your eyes lit up with wonder and happiness, looking first at the flower and then at him. It was the biggest reason he did it, but it left him feeling empty in some ways, wondering if you would look at him the same way if he didn’t bring them to you.

Still, he wouldn’t stop-- even that little bit of attention meant something to him, so he took the flowers you now offered from your hands and spun the purple one between his slender fingers. 

“Violets mean peace, or in this case relaxation,” he said, and immediately caught the understanding dawning on your face. By the time he explained the meaning behind the peonies-- good fortune or luck-- it had morphed into something so unbearably soft that his insides twisted into knots that would never come undone. 

“And the jasmines mean-- love,” you said, and your expression morphed into confusion as you took them back from him.

“W-Well, in this case they’re just for optimism and good fortune. I guess a different flower would have been better--”

--but any other wouldn’t have meant the same thing.

He cursed himself for being so obvious and swallowed nervously, waiting for your response. In another situation, he might have said the look that flashed across your pensive face was disappointment, but he was sure he was just deluding himself. 

And sure enough, your lips curled up into your usual smile as you thanked him for the flowers, support, and, most importantly, food.

The relief was tempered by disappointment that you accepted his lie so easily before he launched into a lecture about how you should take better care of yourself and threatened to come to the campus and drag you off to lunch himself if he had to. The living room was filled with banter while you ate, suggesting maybe you wouldn’t mind him coming and kidnapping you for lunch if he would take you to your favorite restaurant. Of course he promised he would because that just meant he’d get to spend even more time with you and you didn’t look the least bit unhappy with the development. He tried to ignore the nervous fluttering in his stomach as you planned to meet at the restaurant around one.

That night, you stayed in with him watching old movies that he knew you didn’t like, sharing a blanket thrown across your legs, but he appreciated the way you kept picking them anyway. The flowers were moved to the kitchen counter, illuminated by the overhead light, and more than once he caught you looking at them with a soft, wistful sort of smile.

--

The first lunch date was followed by several more over the coming weeks, whenever the gap in your schedule coincided with his lunch break. Of course, he could take lunch whenever he wanted, being the owner, but Akaashi was nothing if not a courteous boss and chose not to do that to his employees.

Today you were running late, and your order had just arrived when you flung yourself into your seat, out of breath and grinning maniacally. It was the look you usually wore when something had both gone your way and was going to surprise him and it didn’t fail this time either.

“I got a fucking S, ‘Kaashi!” you said, slamming the paper down on the table between you. His eyes widened and you practically glowed at the stunned expression. It made his blue eyes sparkle, and when he looked up at you there was such pride in them that your heart skipped a beat.

“_____, that’s amazing,” he said, picking up the paper to examine it. It was littered with your handwriting, each answer meticulously thought out and he could even see some of his influence in your answers-- certain things worded certain ways or words he had said repeated in ink. There was something about knowing you listened to his advice that closely that made him anxious, and he couldn’t decide if it was in a good way or a bad way. “I’m so proud of you.”

This test had been weighing heavy on you for a month, and most of your focus was on passing it, since it was your worst subject. It was too important to fail, and you had stayed up late into the night working on your problem areas, with Akaashi coming in clutch with advice and explanations-- and coffee-- when you needed it.

A flood of adoration swept through you as you stared at your pretty roommate. He was the picture of calm, a gentle smile on his face as he gazed back at you, grey-blue eyes narrow with what you guessed was contentment.

Suddenly, this felt a lot less platonic than it had originally, and you tucked your hair behind your ear as you cleared your throat. You couldn’t go down that line of thinking, it would only lead to disappointment. No way was this gorgeous man interested in a stressed out, exhausted, anxious mess of a college student and you wouldn’t let yourself get your hopes up. 

“A lot of it was because of you, you know,” you said, schooling your expression into what you hoped was grateful and not at all nervous. He didn’t react other than a widening of his smile and a curious quirk of his eyebrow, so you assumed you had managed it. “I mean it. You explain things so well, it’s easy to understand. And you’re patient, even though you had to explain things to me like a hundred times. I would definitely have failed without you.”

His eyes widened again in surprise, his lips parting as if to say something, but nothing came out. Instead, he looked contemplative, a myriad of emotions swimming through his eyes but you couldn’t pick out any one in particular. At the end though, you thought there might have been something akin to melancholy as he looked down at his yet untouched food, tea long since gone cold.

Before you could ponder that, his expression settled back into the placid calm you were accustomed to and he said, “No, I think you could have done it. You put so much effort into studying, I thought you were going to pass out mid-exam. How many do you have left now?”

The conversation veered off into the rest of your exams and plans for the break in a week’s time-- of which you were unsure, since you had a few offers for vacations and trips-- as you ate.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur of papers, pens, and faces, and you were relieved to finally unlock the door to your apartment. Akaashi had texted you earlier saying he was going to be out late and you had slumped in disappointment, already wondering what you were going to do all alone that night.

But when you opened the door, you perked back up almost immediately.

Sitting on the coffee table was the vase, containing an iris, a yellow rose, and another white jasmine. In it was a note written in perfect, crisp cursive--

‘Blue Iris--faith. Yellow rose-- congratulations. I always knew you could do it, _____.’

For some reason, you couldn’t stop from plucking the jasmine.

--

Finals flew by in what felt like a whirlwind of late nights, coffee, and ink smudges. Every day brought tests, but every evening brought you a new flower and you were running out of space for them. 

Irises, yellow roses, red mums, tiger lilies, and peonies were taking up every ounce of excess space you had and your room smelled like a garden. You couldn’t be happier, either. Akaashi seemed to have a sixth sense for what you needed on any given day and you always looked forward to getting home.

On the final day of your exams there was another round of irises, roses, and jasmines waiting for you, and as you twisted the stem of the white flower between your fingers, you were tempted to ask why this particular flower always found its way into his bouquets. But a bigger part of you didn’t want to know, wanted to let it remain a sweet mystery in case he decided to stop. You knew why you wanted to let it be-- you were afraid that asking would lead to an answer you didn’t want, and the hope you harbored was a pleasant pain.

“So,” Akaashi asked, breaking your pondering, “have you decided what you’re doing for the break?” You were staring far too hard at the fresh white jasmine and jumped when he spoke, making him chuckle. 

You hummed in response, tucking the flower back into the vase on the counter and then looked over to him, perched on the stool beside yours. There was a book, another Jules Verne novel, sitting in front of him, a bookmark hanging out of the top. Resting your head on your arms, you said, “Yeah. A few of my friends decided to go to the beach, so I’m gonna go with them. I’ll be gone for a few days.”

“You don’t sound too happy about that,” he said, mimicking you. The air conditioner clicked on overhead and you shrugged. He tried to ignore the dull throbbing of his heart, wishing he could go with you. But not only had you not invited him, he also had no one to watch the store for him. “Do you not want to go?”

“It isn’t that,” you answered, but it was sort of a lie. You did want to go, to relax and have some fun, and you deserved that. But then why did you feel sad that you were leaving? You already knew, as you and Akaashi stared at each other, that it was him. Even for just a few days, you would miss him terribly, and he wasn’t even yours to miss. Sad, really, how pathetic you felt. “I just...I don’t know. There’s gonna be so many people and it’s gonna be loud and I just want to relax.”

“Then tell them you don’t want to go.” It was selfish, but he couldn’t stop the words from spilling out. It managed to draw a grin out of you, even though you still shook your head.

“I’ve already committed. And besides, it’s only for a few days. Then I’ll come back and not do anything for the next week,” you said, and Akaashi chuckled. 

“Well,” he said as he sat up, and you automatically followed suit, “we should eat so you can pack, since I’m sure you haven’t even started.”

Groaning, you hid your face in your hands, but you couldn’t help the smile. “Don’t call me out. I’ve been doing everything perfectly for the last month, I deserve to slack off a little.”

Akaashi was already scrolling through DoorDash on his phone and laughed again. “Of course you do, but don’t complain to me about it when you’re up at 5am packing.”

“Oh, I will. Because you’ll already be up anyway. I don’t know how you do it,” you said, staring at the flowers once more. You didn’t even bother to ask Akaashi what he was ordering because he knew you like the back of his hand, and whatever he got would be something you liked. 

He hummed in response, placing his order before looking at you. “Wanna watch a movie? Unless you have something else planned?”

But you shook your head and his heart fluttered. 

“Nah, a movie sounds great.”

--

It was only a week, he kept telling himself. And yet he missed you to the point he was almost moping. The apartment still smelled of all the flowers he had filled it with over the last few weeks, but it was fading fast without you to bring new ones home too. He shook his head at his ridiculous train of thought. It wasn’t like you were gone forever, you were still coming home in just a few days.

And he wasn’t sure if it helped that you were constantly blowing up his phone. Pictures and videos of tidepools, fish in the aquarium you had visited, sunsets on the water, and meals with your friends flooded his inbox and he eagerly scanned each one, drinking in your content smile.

But even through a picture, he could see something was missing from it. He knew you too well and looked way too hard not to notice, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. At least until one video in particular of you in what he recognized as a botanical garden-- the high, domed ceiling made of glass and the condensation obscuring his view of the sky, not to mention the plants literally everywhere gave it away. You were staring down at a box full of white flowers, but were too far away for him to recognize them until whoever was holding the camera got closer.

A male voice called out to you, amused and maybe a little condescending if Akaashi had to say so, asking, “Hey, _____, watcha lookin’ at?”

You visibly jumped in the frame and cast your friend a nervous smile before it cleared up, and in that moment the something Akaashi hadn’t seen in any other picture showed up, just before you reached out and grazed one of the dewy white petals.

Jasmine, he thought, at the same time that you said it. Heat rushed from his ears down to his toes and back up as he recognized the adoration and unadulterated happiness in your smile, and not even the camera-wielder’s derisive laugh could quell the feeling.

“You and your plants. Well, what’s this one mean then?”

If you noticed the tone, you didn’t show it, only standing up straight and putting your finger up in the air as if giving him a lesson as you said, “Jasmine stands for optimism, good fortune, and positive energy. And--”

Love, Akaashi thought, once again at the same time you said it, and he had to sit down at the counter as his nerves got the best of him. He couldn’t take it, the way you stared into the camera with a sharp, knowing look, like you were piercing right into his soul. If his game was given away, then so be it, he was going to confess properly instead of hiding behind his flowers.

Your friend laughed again, and this time Akaashi could see the way you flinched and rolled your eyes, walking away as he mocked you.

“Sure, sure. You really believe in that? Sounds corny if you ask me,” he said, voice crackly through the speaker as the sprinklers came on. He cursed and the video quickly cut out afterwards, probably to protect it from water damage.

Akaashi rewatched that video three more times before finally sending you a text telling you he was flattered that you remembered so much of his ramblings. Laughing, he set his phone down and carded his fingers through his hair, hiding his face in his arms as he thought about what he was planning to do and the ramifications. Was there any way he could salvage it if you rejected him? Was it even worth the risk right now?

There was no answer to his anxious questions, so he did what he always did when he needed something to occupy his mind-- he arranged flowers.

A couple of hours later, your phone pinged with a new alert, and you swiped it open absently as you sipped at a pina colada, almost choking on it when the picture loaded.

Pink, white, and blue all mixed together in an explosion of color on what you guessed was his workbench at the shop. It was one of his most elegant bouquets yet, at least as far as you were concerned, and your curiosity was white hot as you texted him.

‘what are they, kaashi? what do they mean?’

You waited impatiently for him to answer, but he never did, not even reading it. You were a flurry of nerves all that night, warring between calling him, texting him, and just leaving it be. So distracted were you that you lost count of how many drinks you’d had, until you and the rest of your friends were so far gone the bartender cut you off and you made your way up to your rooms to pass out.

You had never been happier to be going home than you were that morning, hungover and still without an answer from your roommate.

--

Unfortunately, you made a mistake on the drive home. Still distracted by your anxious energy, you scrolled through your phone, liking and commenting on things absently while you listened to your friends chatter in the backseat.

Suddenly, a hand was on your shoulder and a rough voice was in your ear, asking “Do you want to go, _____?”

Not thinking much of it, you agreed, checking your texts again just to see if he’d even read the few you’d sent-- nothing, and you went from worried to hurt. Why had he sent you that picture and then just ignored you afterwards? He was still active on Twitter and Instagram, so you knew he hadn’t fallen off his step stool at the shop. What was his deal?

Your apartment building came into view at last, and your heart picked up speed. It was the weekend, he should be home at this hour. What was he going to say? Or do? You had never been so nervous to get home-- or go home-- as you were just then, but a hand on your wrist stopped you.

Looking to your friend, Eiji, you found him looking at you expectantly. 

“I’ll wait for you here, alright? Don’t keep me waiting,” he said, and laughed at the puzzled expression on your face. “You forget already, _____? You agreed to a date. But I figured you’d want to change before we went so…”

“Oh, uh, right,” you said, wracking your brain for when the hell you had agreed to that. His question from earlier drifted through your thoughts, and you could have smacked yourself for being so oblivious. It felt rude to just...change your mind right then, so you braced yourself to suffer through the date. Eiji was nice enough, if not a little pretentious. Nothing like Akaashi-- 

But you decided not to go down that path.

Grabbing your bag from the trunk, you raced up the steps to the apartment as fast as you could, missing the lock at least twice with how bad your hands were shaking. Flinging the door open, you startled Akaashi, who was sitting on the couch staring at yet another bouquet of flowers.

You stood staring at him, and him back at you, with wide, nervous eyes, neither of you saying anything for a moment, until--

“Welcome home.”

The irritation that had been building all day simmered over as you realized he had actually been ignoring you for no good reason, and then had the audacity to act like everything was fine.

“Hey.”

He didn’t miss the cool edge to your greeting as you wandered towards your room with your bag, sparing the vase on the table the smallest glance. The door closed behind you and you dropped your bag beside the closet, trying to ignore the anger and hurt flowing through you. Your head was starting to hurt again and you really just wanted to lay down for a nap, but your phone dinged, lighting up with Eiji’s name, asking how much longer you were going to be.

Ignoring the temptation to cancel-- you really didn’t want to be rude-- you hurriedly changed into something more appropriate and combed through your hair. Scrunching your nose, you winced at the sunburn you could feel covering your face, wondering how you had gotten it even with your religious use of sunscreen.

Akaashi was still sitting on the couch, the book he had been reading closed on his lap as he stared at the bouquet on the table. When you came into the living room, he perked up, a nervous smile coming onto his face.

“Hey, I wanted to talk-- Are you going somewhere?” He had just realized you had changed into a new outfit and there was a restless energy in the way you checked your phone. You had just gotten home, but you were already ready to leave again. 

There was irritation on your face as you glanced up from your phone, and he was unable to tell if it was directed at him or whoever was texting you, but it morphed quickly into apologetic as you sighed. “Yeah, sorry. I’ve got a date. I’ll be back in a bit. We can talk then?”

You didn’t sound too happy about that, and Akaashi definitely wasn’t, but his words stuck in his throat. A date. Jealousy bubbled viciously in his stomach, oozing into his heart and up his throat, and he jerked his head once, willing the tide to stem until you had left. It was his own fault, after all, for waiting so long to ask and then ignoring you for a day.

He was such a coward.

Staring at your phone again, you missed the pinched narrowing of his eyes and headed towards the door, waving goodbye before closing it behind you.

--

It was only an hour or two later-- you weren’t totally sure, since you weren’t even sure when you had gotten home and abruptly left again-- that you were dragging your sore feet up the steps to the apartment again. The date had gone horribly wrong, right from the start.

Differences of opinion, differences of interests, his disinterest in listening to you talk about anything you were interested in, it seemed like the two of you just couldn’t sync up to have an actual conversation.

Not to mention how you kept inadvertently comparing him to Akaashi, from the way he spoke to you to the way he spoke of other people, right down to the way he ate, for fuck’s sake. You had it bad, and the date was a terrible idea.

When you stepped into the apartment it was quiet and mostly dark, only the lamp on the side table on, and you wondered if Akaashi had either left or gone to bed.

The vase still sat on the table, illuminated in the soft yellow light, and you recognized red roses, tulips, carnations, and the ever present jasmine. Closing the door behind you with a soft click, you kicked off your shoes before sitting on the couch. As ever, the arrangement was flawless, all the flowers mixed together with perfect balance, and you burst into tears. 

It was too obvious, now that you thought about it.

Almost two months of flowers, at least one everyday, a bouquet for every milestone or when you were feeling down, his strange text yesterday and how he wanted to talk to you today-- you really were an idiot.

And then you get home and tell him you have a date-- it must have felt like a slap to the face, and the sick queasiness in your stomach was no less than you deserved for doing that to him, for being so blind.

As quiet as you tried to be, you must still have made too much noise-- that or he wasn’t asleep in the first place-- because there was a weight on the couch beside you and an arm around your shoulder.

Soft words you couldn’t comprehend were whispered into your ear, that same arm pulling you close into his chest, where it was joined by the other one around your back. The tears continued to fall, wetting his shirt, your fingers wrinkling it where they twisted in, and he held you until you finally quieted.

“What’s going on, _____? Did your date hurt you?” he asked and, now that you were calm enough to listen, you could hear the panic and worry in his words. 

Taking deep, gulping breaths to steady yourself, you shook your head. “No, nothing like that, I-- ‘Kaashi, I’m so sorry. I’m such an idiot. I shouldn’t have agreed to that stupid date, he was such a jerk and all I could think about was you and then I came home and saw the flowers and I realized--”

He shifted against you, petting your hair as you stumbled over your words. He could hear the unshed tears building up again and rushed to soothe you before they could spill over. “Woah, hey, slow down. Why were you thinking of me on your date?”

You paused to look up at him, tan skin and blue eyes backlit by the lamp, face twisted in confusion and you had the insane urge to laugh. He was so beautiful it was unfair, how could he ever want a stressed out mess like you?

“I think I love you, Akaashi,” you whispered, and then dropped your eyes down to his chest, unable to stand the fear of rejection. 

A soft hand cupped your cheek, thumb sliding across your cheekbone before tilting your head up to face him again. 

His nose brushed yours and you swore your heart stopped, a soft noise leaving the back of your throat as he asked, “Can I kiss you?”

Instead of answering, you closed the distance, grazing his lips in what could barely be called a kiss and only left you aching for more. He delivered, slanting his lips across yours, molding them together and your head spun with a mixture of relief and desire. The scent of the flowers on the table mingled with the smell that always came off of him, a heady perfume of hundreds of different flowers that you couldn’t get enough of. It clung to his skin, his clothes, and now you, and you allowed your hands to run over his shoulders and up the back of his neck, threading into the curls at the nape of his neck.

By the time you parted, you had crawled into his lap, knees on either side of his hips, and followed that up with several small kisses afterwards. His hands found their way up your shirt, stroking along your spine and squeezing your side as you rested your forehead against his.

“You’ve been telling me all this time, haven’t you?” you asked, barely a whisper, and he chuckled breathlessly in response.

“Yeah. I guess it was too subtle,” he answered, and then kissed you again. He couldn’t get enough, not after he had waited so long to taste you. His palms smoothed up your back, just beneath the strap of your bra, and you shivered in his hold. “I can show you now, if you want?”

You shivered at the warm promise in his words and nodded. “Please, ‘Kaashi.”

He hummed in response, leading a trail of kisses across your cheek to just beneath your ear. Nimble fingers unclasped your bra beneath your shirt, and then came back down to grip your thighs. With a strength you hadn’t expected, he hoisted you up from the couch, carrying you down the hall and kicking open his door. 

You had been in his room countless times before, but it took on a different view when you were laid on your back on his bed, surrounded by a dark grey blanket with him hovering over you. He was stripping out of his shirt, and you licked your lips at each inch of skin that was exposed. His muscles rippled as he pulled it over his head, revealing his lean chest, flushed as red as his cheeks as he caught you staring.

“What is it?” he asked as he propped himself up over you. He was still standing, your legs hanging off the side of the bed and he nudged them open, slotting himself between your thighs. Your expression was that of a deer in headlights as you looked from his face down to the bulge in his shorts, settled right against the crotch of your jeans. 

“You’re just-- so pretty, Akaashi,” you whispered, trailing the fingers of one hand down his throat and chest, watching the muscles on his stomach jump and flex. Your head was still spinning with all this new information, but you weren’t about to let it overwhelm you. Wrapping your other arm around his neck, you pulled him down for another searing kiss, his lips turning up against yours.

When he pulled back, he was blushing, but there was a steely, mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Not as pretty as you, kitten. I think these clothes need to go. I want to feel you,” he said, tugging your shirt over your head. You sat up to help him and followed that by throwing your bra to the floor beside him, and he groaned. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

Palming your breasts in his hands, he pinched your nipples between his fingers, feeling you shiver beneath him. Your back arched, begging him silently for more, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. You looked so good, sprawled out beneath him, eyes wide and pupils blown out, lips parted in pleasure. His cock ached at the sight, and he gave into the temptation to grind his hips into yours, eliciting a quiet gasp from you.

Fingers wrapped around the hard muscle of his bicep. “Akaashi, please.”

“Keiji. Say it,” he commanded even as his fingers trailed down from your breasts to your stomach. He smiled when you giggled but didn’t prolong it, instead flicking the button of your jeans open. They were tugged roughly down your legs and discarded, and then he was tracing the outside of your panties, watching you squirm.

Your lips parted as he ghosted his fingers over your clit, panties already dampe under his touch. “Kei-ji, touch me, please,” you whined, fingers digging into the blanket.

“Whatever you need, kitten. I’ve got you,” he said, pulling the gusset of your panties aside. You were already so slick, and you moaned when the pads of his fingers rubbed over your folds. The heel of his hand grazed your clit and you were desperate for more. “You’re so beautiful, _____. So wet for me.”

You nodded in agreement, tears of frustration beginning to sting your eyes, and you called his name when he finally sunk one long, slender finger into your tight heat. You clenched around him as his thumb found your clit, pumping in and out of you. A second finger soon joined the first, his heated eyes locked on your slick covering his palm and the way your pussy seemed to suck them back in hungrily. A mess of moans and his name fell from your lips, accentuated by the thrust of your hips as you seeked out more of his touch.

With a groan he sank to his knees, letting his tongue replace his thumb and he swore he’d never tasted anything sweeter on his tongue.

“God, princess, you taste so good,” he groaned against your clit, and you spasmed around him at the sensation. His fingers were long enough that you could feel him toy with your cervix on every thrust, and your toes curled when he grazed over the spongy spot on your walls. “Need you to cum on my fingers, okay? Then I can fill up this pretty pussy.”

You gasped at his words, not expecting anything that filthy from your soft spoken roommate. That coupled with the mental image of him sliding his cock into you drove you right over the precipice of your orgasm.

He moaned, feeling your walls clamp down on his fingers, and his cock twitched.

When he stood up, he drank in the sight of your heaving chest and spread legs, pussy glistening. Arousal and contentment flooded his system, purely happy that he finally had you laying before him as he’d dreamt so many times before, and he let his shorts drop to the floor.

Your jaw dropped as he pumped his shaft a few times, smearing the precum already leaking down his thick shaft. It was a good thing he had prepared you, but the thought of having to stretch to take him was equally tempting. The slick sounds made you squirm, wanting to be filled and stretched. You locked your ankles around his thighs, earning a chuckle.

“Patience, kitten. Slide up the bed,” he said, watching you move backwards until you were laying in the center.

The bed dipped under his weight and he crawled over you, shoving his knees beneath your thighs. Hoisting your legs up to lock around his hips, he let his cock settle against your folds. You shuddered when he slid across your still sensitive clit, whining low in your throat.

“Too sensitive, kitten? Want to stop?” he teased, and laughed at the look of panic that flashed across your face. You shook your head frantically, legs tightening around him, and he soothed you by cupping your cheek. “Me either. I’m gonna make you feel so good, pretty girl.”

There was a promise in his eyes, and you were still trying to connect the Akaashi you knew with this one, the one that was cajoling and teasing and making you ache with a need to be filled with his thick cock.

“Please, Keiji,” you murmured, laying your hand atop his and nuzzling against his palm. “I want you inside me. Wanted you for so long, please don’t tease.”

He smiled in response, guiding himself to your entrance and you moaned as the head of his cock slipped in and you accidentally clenched around him when you thought of having all of him. A hiss filled your ears and he thrust the rest of the way in, your cunt parting around him like it was made for him.

“Goddammit, you’re so tight,” he cursed, trying to control the temptation to rock his hips. You were trembling underneath him, and he braced himself up on his elbows, resting his forehead against yours. “Need you to squeeze around me again, pretty girl. Please*.”

You earned a gasp when you did, his hips jerking down into you, his pubic bone grinding your clit and you mewled his name.

“K-Keiji, a-ah, that feels so good,” you whined, tears pricking your eyes. Your legs tightened around him, keeping him in place as he rocked into you in short, shallow thrusts. 

“Good girl. You feel so good, kitten. So tight and wet. God.” His voice was low and gravelly, eyes shut tight as he fisted the blankets by your head. He kept up that steady pace, pulling out more and more with each thrust until he was pistoning into you. The wet slap of his hips against yours filled the room, mingling with your moans and cries of his name. Each thrust hit every sweet spot, the curls at the base of his cock tickling your clit, driving you quickly towards your end again. Your nails dug into biceps as your hips rose to meet his, and when he opened his eyes he found you staring at him with open love and lust.

His lips crashed against yours, forcing you to swallow the loud groan that he uttered when he slowed and circled his hips, forcing his cock even deeper into your tight cunt. Your back arched, forcing your chest against his, and his fingers tangled in your hair.

“Need you to cum for me, kitten,” he whispered against your lips, repeating that same circling motion. The way he rubbed your clit and ground into your cervix flung you over the edge with a wail of his name. You squeezed so tight around him that his hips jerked and he found himself cumming, painting your insides white, unable to pull away because your legs were still locked around him. “*Shit, goddammit*.”

He let his head fall to the bed beside you, sliding his arms up until he was pressed flush against you. Breathing shakily, you let your hands roam his back, spreading the sweat that had built up. Your hips were starting to hurt and Akaashi noticed them shaking and sat up, pulling out of you so he could put your legs down.

“Akaashi, I--” you started to say, but he cupped your cheek and covered your lips with his thumb, cutting you off.

“It’s still Keiji, pretty girl. And I think we can talk about this in the bath,” he said, helping you up and off the bed.

After the bath was drawn and you were settled comfortably against his chest, drawing random patterns on his skin, he let you speak.

“What’re we gonna do now, Keiji? We already live together, I guess. Nothing’s going to change, right?” you asked, watching drops of water roll down his skin. He was so warm and you found yourself wanting to fall asleep, you were so comfortable.

His soft fingers were trailing up and down your back, his arm resting on the side of the tub, and he hummed thoughtfully before saying, “Well, I’d like to date you, if that’s acceptable. Otherwise  no, I don’t believe anything will change. Other than I’ll fall in love with you even more, _____.”

The back of your neck grew hot at his words and you hid your face behind your hands, fighting the heat that spread all over. Your heart stuttered and you whined even as your eyes stung. That was all you had wanted over the course of the last several months, and now here he was telling you exactly what you wanted to hear. It was an actual dream come true.

Once you had fought the embarrassment back down you turned to look up at him.

It was a fruitless endeavor because the soft, loving gaze you met made it erupt all over again, and you kissed the smirk right off his pretty lips for it.

“I love you, Keiji,” you whispered against his lips, and smiled when you heard the words breathed back. Settling back down, you resumed your doodling, spelling out different things against his slick skin, and then asked, “The flowers in the picture you sent. What were they and why did you send it and then ignore me?”

He chuckled at the petulant tone, the sound pleasant in your ear where it rested over his heart, before answering.

“Well, you had just sent that video of you in the garden and after watching it, I decided I was going to confess when you got home. The flowers just helped ground me.” Guilt flooded you again as you remembered how you had brushed him off when you walked through the door and, as if he could sense it, he wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your hair. “It’s alright, princess. I deserved it after ignoring you. I was just scared to tell you because I couldn’t tell you the meanings behind them without giving myself away.

You relaxed in his hold again, tilting your head up to look at him and were floored all over again. You would surely never get tired of the soft adoration in his beautiful eyes and hoped it would never fade. “So, what were they then?”

“Azalea’s for homesickness, because you took my heart with you. Camellia’s for passion, because that’s how strongly I feel about you. Forget-me-nots for love, so you don’t forget. And jasmine because they’re your favorite, and I love you with my whole being.”

The words were whispered into your hair, the only other sound besides the gentle sloshing of water as he had started to rock you back and forth, fingers cupping your neck to hold you too him, and the tears that had burned earlier welled over as you realized how deeply he meant those words and how deeply he had embedded himself into your heart.

There was no doubt in his mind that the tears spilling down his chest were good, not when they were overlaid with kisses everywhere you could manage, and then you stilled, content to just let him hold you after that. No other words were said until the water grew colder and you shivered.

“We should go to bed. It’s already very late,” he murmured, and helped you to stand. His breath hitched as the water cascaded down your body, feeling arousal build all over again. He ignored it as you toweled off and redressed, snagging his shirt up before he could grab it and slipping it over your head. “You are not helping me to keep my hands off you, kitten,” he growled, grabbing you by the hips and guiding you towards his bedroom.

You let him lead you with no resistance besides pausing to wiggle against him and giggling when he sighed in mock exasperation.

“Maybe I’m not trying to,” you said, sauntering towards the bed.

“If that’s the case,” he answered, pinning you to the mattress. Your legs naturally came up to hook over his hips and his shorts slipped down, exposing his already hard cock. “I guess we aren’t ready for bed yet.”

⇥  masterlist 

⇥ taglist: @sluttony​, @visaintes​, @yunhosblackgf​, @super-noya​, @byebyes-world​, @newfriendjen​

[lunar-lair]

ok say hello to my insanely new oc who ive made entirely to be a villain who is still an excellent adult and a decent parent, probably. cares too much abt kids. think reigen mob psycho with a drop or two of milla. worked under Nick From The Mailroom and was actually in on his scheme.

has always been rather cold and brash towards adults, but is more caring towards kids. in my brain he has a brooklyn type accent? rough and tumble, walks around without a tie, yknow? they keep him cause he sorts mail real good, though.

(added a read more because this got INSANELY LONG AKSKSK i spent like an hr on this h)

he was a delugeionist, but only because he kinda just wanted to rip the world apart a little; lysandre vibes, thinks a lot of it is scum and needs to go. thinks the *psychonauts* are scum and need to go. hes psychic but suppressed it, think aquato parents but extra toxic about it, and straight up just saying being psychic is unnatural. wouldnt go to loboto parent lengths tho. so he adopted that thought of 'being psychic is unnatural and wrong', which contributed to a lot of self hate that was never learned out. likely, he realizes hes a shitty person and thinks he needs to go too. so like...yknow hank, dbh? kinda the vibe im gettin right now. way more formal, of course, and while usually gruff, is more polite when its needed; can and *will* beat the shit out of you verbally in a factual way, though, and can talk more street-lingo if hes talkin to real thugs. (probably winged it on his own after failing college or smth, hes got the vibes.)

anyways, its this plot where he slinks off and starts planting mistrust in the psychonauts or something. and inevitably he just...shows up and starts kidnapping people. dismantling things from the inside and all that. he left and formed a group who also hated psychics at some point, likely friends of his parents and friends of friends, all from his hometown. all of them fight *insanely* dirty, and a lot of them are insanely vulgar. the kids are supposed to be kept away.

but theres a line to follow here.

this man is a fold to raz. hates the psychonauts, hates being psychic, adopted his parent's hate of psychics, hates the *world.* raz is young and unburdened and unjaded...mostly. hes not the shock of water some young characters can be when it comes to being the foils of other characters; think steven with a villain or something, right? but raz is sassy and a little jaded, and not total sunshine positivity.

hes a child this man could look down on and not be immediately annoyed by, who is worried by yet respects raz's realization of the world as it is, however little that is.

and yet raz is still his foil. he still mostly loves the psychonauts, despite it all, he loves being psychic, for the most part, he dodged adopting his parents previous values, he still seems to have an even view of the world as a whole.

raz is jaded, if only a little, but he moved past it and accepted that things could still be bright. this man is jaded, but he stayed in his stormclouds, never looked for the sun.

ok where. was i. RIGHT ok so. at the beginning of this...story? the man finds raz being talked down to by one of the office workers; someone with weak psychic powers whos insanely jealous of his prowess. an adult who envies the young prodigy. and theyre giving him some insane task to do, like cleaning all of the closets within the hour, but hes saved the world twice, so he smiles and nods along, because he said he would help around the motherlobe, and this adult is asking him to do something that seems simple enough.

and this guy, internally, goes 'bitch.' for a good long second bc 1. dude even if you envy a kid, kinda fucked to show that?? not their fault 2. WHY are you asking a 10 year old to do that. why is there a 10 year old here. holy shit thats a 10 year old oh my god hes so tiny (no one told him there was a 10 year old because they knew hed stomp right up to management but. regardless. he is going to stomp up to management after this and no one can really stop him. except maybe raz well see)

so yknow. dude fixes his slight slouch and walks forward and politely tells this woman that 1. hes 10 why are you jealous of him and 2. hes 10????????? and shes like shit hes 10. and apologizes. and walks away

and raz is VERY ?? bc she was doing what? why is him being 10 important? and its that young part of you that gets pissed when people try to keep you from doing things because youre young and hes DEFINITELY yet to learn that piling responsibilites that should be handled by adults onto a child is fucked up in its own special way (looking at you ford, *nick*)

and the dude calmly explains because yea. he gets that. and he still sounds gruff and a little peeved but he squats down to razs height and he talks simply and factually, telling him straight on why it isnt right.

and. huh. people dont really do that for raz. except for sasha, sometimes, everyone likes to dodge the truth a lot with him, because hes 10, and sometimes, hes too nice to tug it out of them.

and this guy, this man that raz is already polishing a trophy for 'good adulting' in the back of his brain with his striking statements about how adults should handle things and kids should-kids should...get to have fun. not be traumatized.

for the shock on his face when raz said hed already saved the world a couple times, whats some closets. he reigned it in, said that its weird he saved the world, because thats usually their jobs.

and this guy offers his hand on instict before he stands up, even though he doesnt seem very sweet and kind like the adults that usually offer raz a hand. and he takes it, i think. he takes it.

warm. warm, a little nice.

reminds raz of his dad, maybe. he wonders if this man has any kids himself, but keeps his mouth shut, because he thinks he already has the answer, and its yes.

(he doesnt have any. he would wish he did, but he knows hed fail to raise them right.)

and when he stands, he asks raz what he was asking that woman for, and he says hes doing tasks around the motherlobe because his papers are still coming in. the man doesnt ask. (he knows what 'papers' means, realizes this is the tiny junior psychonaut every room in the damn place has been buzzing about, and he has fucking words for forsythe.) he just offers for the kid to sort mail under his supervision.

and that sounds boring. at least, it usually would.

this man is interesting, and a good...person? a good adult? hes...hes new. hes new, and calm, and a little like sasha but a lot not, and he thinks he trusts him.

so raz grins and says yea, mail sorting sounds nice.

(debatably, raz does not take his hand. hes too jaded when it comes to adults. debatably, he does not feel any warmth from this man who has taught him every adult has been telling him wrong. debatably, im projecting. but thats the whole point of ocs, hm?)

and then holes crop up in motherlobe systems. people are kidnapped.

raz keeps seeing the strange man, keeps telling him things, keeps hearing back, gruff and factual and a little annoyed, but raz can almost-just-barely tell its not at him, with the way he talks.

he can tell. he can tell.

he can never tell. this man is making sure he can tell.

raz trusts the man, is still polishing that trophy for 'best adulting' he has settling in the back of his mind.

and then the man comes with a militia.

he did not seem jaded. he did not seem hateful. he never showed any anger or hate towards raz.

but thats because he knows kids dont deserve it.

an excellent moral or two. a rotten, broken heart.

and at first, they keep the kids away, because these people fight dirty, because this isnt their battle, because the man has been sending emails about why 15 year olds are in a secret psychic agency.

(he does not mention raz. by razs second visit, he had just marked the boy down as another reason to hate the psychonauts as a whole, and especially its higher ups.

hes also regretting his alliance to nick by about the third. if he had known the man would puppet a child as if they were a toy, he would have organized his own rebellion ages ago.)

but eventually, the psychonauts need all hands on deck.

they send the children to find the missing agents.

the interns are fought on the way. some of them avoid the child, know the boss would pummel them.

they get to the base, and the strange man, the one with the broken trophy for 'best adult' (still barely-polished, because hes still so sure) still nestled in the back of razs brain, is still there.

the junior psychonauts are spotted. one of the guards throws a few rocks aimlessly.

they surprise them. one almost hits raz.

its intercepted instead.

and the other junior psychonauts watch as this man, their enemy, a villain, in their eyes, reprimands the other man for even accidentally daring, for even trying. for doing something they might have done just a month or so ago, if they had decided he was too much weirder than they already had.

and he yells something like, "Why the hell is he even here?! This is an enemy base, of whats a rebellion! This is a *10 year old*! What kind of adult sends a child *near* something like that?!" and he truly sounds angry this time, raz finds. hes too angry to keep it in. he still sounds gruff and oddly proper. raz is standing there, arms hanging. hes baffled in a specific way, the way he was every time the man's brow furrowed when he mentioned a harrowing story, the way he was the first day they met.

and he asks, a little quiet, a little small, a reminder of how young he really is, "Why are you still trying to keep me safe? We're supposed to be enemies now."

And his brow furrows further before flattening out, and he tilts onto one leg, and he swears he almost kneels to a knee.

He cant believe it. He really cant.

"You're 10." he says simply, softly, that factual way. "You shouldn't even be here."

and raz pauses. the interns freeze.

"...well, here I am."

and i think...it would be so intriguing if this was done halfway out of the mind, because this man is so against anything psychic. it would be so *compelling.*

so raz steps forward and asks again, asks why hes doing this.

and the mans eyes harden, he tries to turn off that soft heart, trying to remind himself of all that he hates. because he hates the psychonauts, because he sort of hates the world.

and raz asks why he could ever hate the psychonauts, head tilted, before listing off the few he knows to be true. but other than that, how? and ok, the world sucks a little, yea, hes seen that, gets that.

and he appreciates that this kid isnt totally gung ho about existence.

but he hates that he isnt, too.

and its this back and forth. everything the man hates, why he hates it. raz saying why its good but admitting why its bad.

and hes swayed, just a little.

but the man stands up from the kneel hed inevitably instinctively put himself into, and walks forward, hand held out yet again.

"You shouldn't be in the Psychonauts," he tells him, soft, factual, brow furrowed. "Come with me. I'll bring you back to your parents, or wherever it is you want to go."

raz contemplates. thinks, for a long moment.

he grabs the mans hand, warm and firm, yet again, for a terrifying moment.

before he reaches up to slap a mental door on his forehead, and astral projects into it.

he thinks this man is good. thinks hes just jaded.

thinks hes the best adult hes ever met, one who just happens to hate a lot of things.

hes only 10.

hes not letting someone who can tell him so clearly whats wrong and right for adults to tell him go that easily.

aaaand yknow. raz does his razzy thing. learns about why the guy hates the world and the psychonauts and himself. helps him learn that its not all bad, that he was excellent to raz, and still is, that things can be bad and good all at once.

the man concedes that raz is very capable, very smart, and can do a lot. but that doesnt mean he should have to.

raz tells him, though, that he likes working for the psychonauts. its his dream. and he realizes some things he was told to do were kinda screwed up, now. that maybe, in honesty, he was dealt a bad hand.

but hes done what he can with that hand, and he ended up with a royal flush.

and uh! yknow!! then raz leaves his mind and he calls off the rebellion! its like a rhombus of ruin type adventure, except without the villain being present beforehand. its just not clustered in insanely close with a ton of other wild shit.

anyways this got really long? sorry?? its an oc i just saw good adult and slight father vibe potential in the vibe i instantly got on him and then i went feral???? rip maybe someone will read this and if you did. congrats i honestly really liked how the whole foil and good-yet-bad and consideration of raz being 10 thing worked out. this oc is almost like our representative in the psychonauts world the way reigen is for the audience in mp100. yea :) i match them up a lot but thats just cause they vibe a lot. anyways its 1:40 am now and i spent abt an hour on this hope it vibed mildly byeeee

[crossovereddie]

Thoughts on 11x06

I had to come back to type this after the episode. I was gonna wait to post until more people are active but everyone’s safety is more important than notes. This was really hard for me to watch. It took me two hours because I kept needing a break. It’s a tough one yall. It’s heartbreaking and really brought out issues I didn’t know I was still dealing with until I reacted so badly to some stuff. Take care of yourselves and I’m here if you need to talk. I’ll have timestamps for major tws in another post coming right after this. I just gotta go back and get the end of those scenes. I only go the time they started.

Okay. So. There’s some trigger warnings that I’ve reblogged earlier. This recap WILL have thoughts about those triggers. If you think you’ll be triggered just message me or send me an ask and I’ll give you the non triggering recap. Stay safe please.

Kev and v intro. They’re having sex behind the bar

I’m extremely nervous for some reason I might not be able to get through this

Bike heist!!

LICKEY RIGHTS

LIP CALLS HIM MICK

MISSION IMPISSIBLE

Mickey is unimpressed

Lip telling Mickey what to do yes please

Fucking Mickey omg

HE LOOKS SO GOOD

THE WAY HE SAYS BRAD

Again Mickey is unimpressed

Lip :(

MICKEY CONCERNED ABOUT LIPS SOBRIETY

AGAIN I SAY LICKEY RIGHTS

Frank is falling the chick he’s boning Monica

Not sure that’s her real name

Wait yeah it is

Frank??? Has to get to work???

Wait her name isn’t Monica

Oh shut now I get what’s happening

“Can I speak to Pope Francis please” LIAM 😭

Poor baby

Lip cooking breakfast. Hot.

I forgot about camis baby

I actually beep bad for lip and Tami

We already heard this argument with Mickey and Ian get new material writers

PRODIGAL THEIF

PINK BOX HES SO CUTE

HE LOOKS SO CUTE GOTTA SQUEEZE HIM PLS

Yeah don’t tell Carl that traitor

MICKEY BROUGHT DONUTS PLS

HES SO CUTE

ITS TOO MUCH

I LOVE HIM

HIS SMILE!!!!!!!!

GALLAGHER YOUTH

THAT MEANS MICKEY TOO BYE

CARL CALLING HIM MICK TOO PLS

I CANT TAKE IT

Poor Liam he’s terrified

“I was hoping the fucker would just die” :(

Shut up Debbie

Mickey is beautiful

Leave Mickey out of it debbie goddamn

I cant fucking stand her

Frank just observing his kids and smiling

Same frank

SHUT UP DEBBIE

OH MY GOD HIS LAUGH IS THIS WHAT YOU HEAR WHEN YOU FIRST GET TO HEAVEN????

“And the smartest” lol

Someone save Liam

“I want Sandy”

We all do kid

Fucking manipulative little I CANT STAND DEBBIE

Sandy deserves better

I hate the Milkovichs!!!!

How did smart sensitive sweet beautiful loving Mickey come from this disgusting family????

MICKEY IS THE BOSS

My heart hurts so him

“Homo sexy” dear god

Mickey is too good he deserves so much better

I love him so much

Let him be happy

Mickey has the biggest heart

They’re actually talking and not fighting

CHAPO STFU

You’re so funny and smart and beautiful don’t forget that baby

SUGAR TITS

And no one is fazed lmao

“He’s actually my uncle and my dad” I fucking hate this show

I forgot Carl makes legit money now

Wtf kinda school is this

This is so fucked up

The twins are so adorable

SHUT UP DEBBIE

“You guys” I hate that but also she’s acknowledging Mickey as “hers” and he’s family :(

Okay this horrifying comment

I hate that it’s just nonchalant

Debbie just keeps talking.

Let’s move on

Mickeys face when she says “butt naked”lmao

LIP CALLING HIM MICK AGAIN

“Talk to you for a minute?”

“Yes. Please”

I LOVE IT

Mickey is unimpressed by lip once again and I’m smiling

They love each other they’re secretly best friends ITS A FACT

HAND SHAKE SO CUTE

MY BABIES

“Blue like my balls” fucking frank lol

They’re going in on Frank’s storyline now

Boss Mickey at it again

Terry’s home

The way his face falls im sick

SANDY BABY

My heart is racing

Mickeys face is breaking my heart

Great now I’m crying

Mickey got emotional

Ian sensed it and touched his neck all fucking sweet

Okay I had to take a little break because I started crying

I love him too much

Fucking Noel is so damn good

My heart is fucking breaking

“Frank’s not a homophobic psychopath who tortured you for years”

Please Mickey deserves better

I don’t wanna hear any Ian slander either.

In this house we protect my son and my son in law I will fight you

“Let’s get the fuck outta here. Lip you coming?” 😭

That was so hard to watch yall. I’m not gonna lie to you. My parents weren’t half as shitty as terry but growing up feeling unloved your whole life fucks you up anyway and that brought out some emotions and feelings I didn’t realize I still dealt with. I had to pause for a good while and cry.

Leave Sandy alone debbie

Terry is disgusting

Okay the homophobic language he uses is definitely triggering so I’ll time stamp that too

Debbie you selfish bitch

Everyone leaving terry outside it’s a yes from me

I honestly can’t concentrate on the other scenes now I’m sorry y’all

I try to cover everyone’s scenes but it’s hard for me today

I’m not okay

Liam is too innocent poor kid

MICKEY LIP AND IAN THE BEST TRIO

We need more scenes

I PAUSED TO TYPE AND THE FUCKING LOOK HES GIVING HIM STOP

They’re besties

Mickey is beautiful

MY BABY BUSINESS BOSS MAN I LOVE YOU

he really hasn’t called him Philip the entire episode wtf

Ignoring Debbie

Now I want fries

Carl is cringy

Mickey drove them home and pulled a gun

Honestly again another heartbreaking scene

Ian’s trying to make him stop

Terry is disgusting and also a coward but we’ve been knew

Noel is the most amazing

Mickey gets teary but doesn’t cry bc I cried enough for the both of us

He’s the strongest bravest ever and I’m so proud of him

I need a hug

My heart hurts so much y’all

I just want him to be happy

I’m a fucking mess

I can’t handle Lip being emotional too

Oh I thought lip wanted to sell the house for himself only but at least they all get their share

Horrible music choice

I wanna tuck Mickey in with his favorite tv show on(911) make him his favorite food to eat in bed and not let anyone but Ian around him for a good 72 hours

The way Ian is looking at him

“Would you take care of me if I was paralyzed?”

“....yeah. Yeah”

“Top you whenever I wanted” “asshole”

His smile is back that’s all I need in life

MICKEY IS TOO GOOD FOR THIS WORLD

RIP DOWN THAT FLAG YES BABY

“That was big of you” “he’s an asshole...I wanna be better than that”

WHEN I TELL YALL I LOST IT I MEAN FULL ON SOBBING

YOURE ALREADY A THOUSAND TIMES BETTER THAN THAT PIECE OF SHIT

YOURE SO KIND AND BRAVE AND BEAUTIFUL INSIDE AND OUT

Ian’s like “back of the head? Gotta grab and hold my boy”

“You are so much better than that” IAN MY SWEET SON IN LAW I LOVE YOU THANK YOU FOR LOVING OUR BOY SO WELL

IAN IS THE MOST SUPPORTIVE HUSBAND

V spitting truth

I want terry to fucking suffer

Don’t do it frank

“Nah” LMAO

Frank loves his son in law

Sandy I love you

I need to hold her

No debbie I LOVE HER

NO SANDY LOVE ME INSTEAD

DEBBIE DOESNT DESERVE YOU

Carl scene was so awful I feel so bad for him this girl is a fucking psycho

That was an actual rape scene what the fuck

Mickey making frank laugh

Debbie explaining? Really?

I hate her

“How long is this gonna take? I’m fucking starving Lip” WHY WONT YOU CALL HIM PHILIP

“We could get on with our lives” well that hurt more than it should’ve

It’s really the end soon huh? 😢

According to captions Ian says “we’re in”

Frank reads his diagnosis

Carl goes to report his rape

That took me nearly two hours to watch. Yeah I usually pause to type but I had to take long breaks after the hard scenes. It was a really hard episode to watch. A lot darker than it has been. I’m not really okay right now. It was emotional but a really good episode overall.

[phoebehalliwell]

what are your thoughts on thruples? cause I keep thinking about Paige/Henry/Coop, especially with Henry and Coop's epic bromance in the comics

ooh that could be very interesting. personally, i'm game for throuples (tho i will say i Hate the word throuple i think it sounds gross just like you know moist or something so i usually just say "poly relationship") but i do kind have beef when it's like. like you know the meme "it doesn't have to be like this [blank] has two hands"? funny meme i do like it but i hate when a poly relationship is just kinda an excuse to merge two couples rather than something that like emerges as distinct relationships between all three parties. like bella edward and jacob as a couple like. shure because bella loves edward and bella loves jacob but jacob and edward really don't like have anything there it's more like roommates who share a girlfriend rather than a poly relationship. one piece of media that i think really did it well was siren on freeform which i highly recommend the first two seasons it kinda goes off the rails s3 and then was cancelled but the first two season it really spends time fleshing out all aspects of the relationships between ben, ryn, & maddie and it also actually goes canon which is lit 🤙🤙

but basically. if i were to do a paige/henry/coop, i think i would start with specifically a paige/coop bromance introduce henry into the mix & let it blossom from there so like. as previously stated. i think each leg of the triangle here needs to be strong n steady on its own so um underneath the cut is i believe a record breaking 6.6k

rip richard but we'll say richard also died in this au rip. and then, of course, kyle also died. idk if he's a whitelighter or not but the point is paige has this weight on her chest like god i can't save these people i can't save the people i love ouch everything hurts

& that's when coop shows up!

and we'll have his introduction plot be a fusion of heartbreak city and the magic hour where coop's got this relationship and it's perfect they're so in love but there's this demonic interference and it's gonna kill one or both of them so he busts down the charmed ones' door like hi you guys are protectors of the innocent right well i have some innocents in dire need of protection

to which this duty gets turfed to paige because piper idk has work and phoebe has a date and phoebe's like i can cancel it to help! and coop's like what no the whole reason i'm here is love go go find love paige can totally handle this

and paige is like :| because she really doesn't want this gig and coop's explaining it all to her how this love is going to be broken up by a magical death unless they stop it and paige is like okay look here coop let's not get our expectations up to high because in my experience almost all relationships end in a magical death and coop’s like !!!

and immediately does like a cupid reading on her and paige is trying to bat him away like ew no i do not need any love guru-ing right now okay let’s just fix your thing and then you can leave okay

and coop’s like no don’t you see? this is fate, the fact that it’s you and me on this, it means i’m meant to be here, i’m meant to help you find love

and paige is like uh no it means piper’s a mother of two and phoebe’s on a date while i am the tragic spinstress of magic school (which is still under her charge just bc it is we didn’t abandon it)

and coop’s like nope. it’s fate. and paige rolls her eyes and coop’s like come on, like you don’t believe in fate and paige is like actually i don’t! and coop just smiles at her bc he knows she’s lying and paige knows she knows he’s lying and she tries to sneer at him but it’s just insanely half hearted bc to be honest her heart kinda skipped a beat with that smile but no

absolutely not

dude, all she gets is cursed love, and now a cupid?

she can’t go through all that she can’t fight for love only to watch him die no she’s gonna ignore it he’s not that cute anyways oh fuck he totally is but whatever!!! doesn’t matter

so blah blah blah paige and coop save the day including one moment where idk there’s an explosion or something they have to dodge something hide for attackers something where they get thrown up against a wall faces inches apart from each other breathing heavy undeniably a moment which they both Immediately break because wooooah that is a little too much chemistry!! better act like that never happened

and you know next episode or whatever coop’s like okay let’s find you love!! and paige is like not now i’m at work and coop’s like in an alleyway and paige is like i need to look after my charge and then after that i need to grade papers and after that i need to order cauldrons and after that-

and coop’s like find love?

and paige is like no. i need to.... but um she forgot the rest of her list

and coop’s like find love excellent sounds great!

and paige is like anyone ever tell you you’re really annoying and coop’s like nope i’m a cupid :0)

and blah blah blah they’re arguing and something something w paige’s charge and paige is like i gotta go talk to him but coop holds her back because wait who’s that approaching him and paige is like fuck that must be his parole officer bc idk he’s doing something that is obviously breaking parole and paige is like aaaaaaa what do we do and then it’s a henry face reveal and both paige and coop are like woah.

but then paige is storming off trying to like try to fight henry and henry’s like what the fuck is this?? and coop’s running up like hi i’m also here and speed’s like i-cannot stress this enough-do not know any of these people and coop’s like you don’t know us yet and paige is like you can’t do this speed’s a good kid and speed’s like yeah!!

and henry’s like he was so very obviously breaking parole and paige is like he’s a kid and henry’s like a kid who’s been to juvie!! twice!!! and who should know the damn rules by now

and paige is like look something something clever talk bargaining whatever puts something of her own at stake and henry’s like you’re really gonna risk it all on this kid and paige is like yes. he’s destined for greatness. and speed is like yeah!! and henry’s like fine. whatever. but when the other shoe drops, you know like i’m gonna cash in whatever wager paige made here

& he leaves

and speed’s like thanks also who are you and idk we get a paige monologue something full of love and spirit and coop’s also there still and speed’s listening to this monologue kinda like um okay bc honestly? just met her five minutes ago this is kind of a lot but coop’s listening to this monologue like wow😍

so idk speed leaves and coop’s like hey so do you pick a fight with all the guy’s you find attractive and paige is like what

and coop’s like well i’m just saying you know with richard with kyle with me and now with henry i’m kinda sensing a pattern there

and paige is like did you just include yourself on that list and coop’s like i mean yeah duh

and paige kinda wants to argue back but her blush is giving her away so it’s best just to change the subject so what you think i should be going for the parole officer?

and coop’s like yes! didn’t you feel it there was a spark there passion energy something that with the help of yours truly can easily turn into love and paige is like yeah no. absolutely not.

and coop’s like come on why not he was hot and paige is like yeah well if he’s so hot why don’t you date him and coop pauses like hmm like genuinely consider and paige is like don’t do that

and coop’s like why not and paige is torn between don’t date him because i actually did feel that spark and i do kinda like him and also don’t date him because if you’re gonna date anyone it should be me but both those are too embarrassing to say out loud to her cupid so instead she just says conflict of interest

and we flash forward to later idk when the point is speed is doing graffiti on public property but not just like stupid pointing a spray can at something la la la like proper graffiti like an artform but as it is unfortunately public property that is Illegal so it breaks parole

so idk henry’s there and busts him and paige senses speed’s in trouble so she shows up and henry’s like good you’re here. i’m not actually gonna cash in the thing that you wagered because that’d be unfair, because i know the kid, i know that he always let’s you down and speed’s like hey man

but paige is looking up at the wall and she’s like don’t you get it and henry’s like ...no and paige is like it’s art. it’s a release, it’s a coping mechanism and speed’s like idk that’s all sounding a little bit pretentious for a bit of graffiti and paige is like you can’t arrest him for this and henry’s like it’s literally illegal. & i already let him walk once what part of this aren’t you getting

and then there’s like a. idk cop radio thing i don’t know how police work that’s talking about how whatever gang speed used to run with just robbed some place but they’re hot on their tail bc their getaway driver sucks and henry’s looking at speed bc speed Is the getaway driver hence the name and henry’s like how come you aren’t driving that car huh

and speed just shrugs and henry’s like no how come you’re not driving that car what you swap out one crime for another you’re getting busted either way and speed like shrugs 

and paige is like he’s creating art instead and henry’s like did they approach you to drive the getaway car and speed shrugs and henry’s did they approach you to drive the getaway car and speeds like yes man they did i said no and henry looks up at the art

and it’s some super nail on the head craving freedom thing a bird breaking free from a cage type shit and it’s gorgeous

and henry looks at paige like what are you, huh

and paige is like freelance guardian angel

and henry just uncuffs speed and speed’s like what are you doing and henry’s like go. next time you do this find a wall that isn’t public property

and speed can’t help it he kinda smiles n runs off and henry just looks at paige bc what the hell has this girl gotten into him bc normally he’s just got such a concrete shell but she’s smiling at him like he just made the right choice and he’s really gotta fight the urge to smile back. what the fuck

so he says something stupid and leaves

and later paige is doing something when boom coop is here invading her personal bubble bc that’s become their new mode of communication is there are one thousand empty chairs and coop is seated in one paige will walk over and sit on that same chair that’s how they operate bc again there’s this sense of longing for one another and they both know they can’t go for it so instead they just opt for this intense intimacy passed off as friendship

and paige is like met the parole officer again and coop’s like oh henry mitchell? and paige is like how do u know his full name and coop’s like did my research<3 and they’re talking blah blah blah idk and it’s both how to land a date with this guy and also heavy flirting at the same time. and then like phoebe walks into the room and they snap apart like magnets with the same polarity i think?? been a while since the fifth grade and their language just becomes so much more stifled

to which phoebe is vaguely aware and this is a change but we as the audience are super aware it’s a change meaning that their constant flirty banter is a choice on both parts they are both very consciously doing this

and then i don’t know there’s something bigger going on in the main plot which has been building and the main villain needs something magical from each type of being so a cupid’s next on the grocery list so idk coop is either out minding his own business getting coffee or he’s out on reconnaissance on henry when all of a sudden he’s attacked!! by idk an arrow seems convenient honestly we should do a bow and arrow an homage to in original cupid iconography

and henry’s in proximity and sees this and idk maybe they’re somewhere where there aren’t that many people just so you know u can be attacked by a bow and arrow and henry’s like what the fuck!??!?! running over to help him and he vague recognizes him as the angel’s friend but is mainly like holy shit did you just get shot with a bow and arrow and henry’s like i’ll call an ambulance i’ll drive u to the hospital

and coop’s like no no uhh can’t go with the whole i am actually a magical being i exist in no databases and also have no money so instead goes with the i have no health insurance and henry’s like hmm. fuck.

so the next thing you know coop’s on henry’s couch and henry’s doing rudimentary first aid and coop’s really trying to hobble away because if he can just get to paige she can heal this because she unlocked that power in like s5 or s6 in a more natural progression but henry’s not letting him leave because dude you have an arrow in your chest

and now we’re doing the hurt comfort schtick with the meaningful glances and also coop is shirtless bc well you know Arrow In Chest and he’s also in henry’s apartment which is offering a very weird sense of intimacy

and there’s also this kind of banter going because coop’s like no i’m fine i can leave this is fine and henry’s like dude. please let me at least try to help you and after that you can walk right out of here and go repuncture your lung. but just. while you’re. let me do what i can

and coop’s like okay because like. well i mean a) gotta keep up appearances like he’s mortal and b) henry’s kinda fine so sure he can play doctor what’s the worse that can happen

and henry’s like okay we gotta get this arrow out of you so um. any ideas on how to do that? and coops like yeah break off the feathered part and then pull the rest through

and henry’s just like yeah? you have experience with this? and coop’s like once or twice and henry’s like what do you do?

and coop’s like ... relationship therapist

and henry’s like are relationship therapists frequently attacked by archers and coop’s like yeah more often than you’d think 

and henry removed the arrow and the actual point stabby bit of the arrow is shaped like a heart just for funsies bc it’s for cupids but henry’s looking at this like relationship therapist hunting arrow??

anyways. henry is pressing some bandages against coop’s chest to staunch the bleeding and there’s a Moment there to which henry kinda falters because woah gay thoughts?? and the pressure lightens but then o shit i’m lightening the pressure don’t do that!! so he pushes hard and coop’s like aa!! and henry’s like fuck jesus and coop just kinda laughs like i guess you don’t patch up arrow wounds that frequently and henry’s like yeah actually you’re my first!!

something something something coop’s patched up and henry gives him once of his shirts because coop’s shirt had to be cut off him bc of the arrow and we get one of the classic how to i look / starstruck moments because hell yeah we do

and blah blah blah blah blah blah blah coop makes it home and paige is like where in god’s name did u get that shirt bc it looks nothing like what coop would wear in fact in kinda reminds her of

believe it or not, henry

hot parole officer henry?

the one and only

and paige is like you slept with him??? and coop’s like close. i was shot with an arrow and he patched me up

and paige is like !!! because you know main plot evil all this that coop takes off henry’s shirt so paige can see the wound and heal it and she’s looking at henry’s handiwork and it really is the old college try but that man is not a medic so now paige is laying her hand on coop’s bare chest and phoebe walks in and immediately turns on a heel like i’ll give you guys some space!!

and paige is like no it’s fine i’m healing him he was shot main plot and phoebe’s like oh

and then later phoebe’s talking with paige like okay you and coop tho. bc like. ik ik healing or whatever. but like. 👀👀.

and tbh paige has been waiting for this because she really needs to unpack bc like i know!! because coop and i have this thing and it’s a great thing but it like can’t be a thing it’s a forbidden thing but i want it to be a thing but at the same time there’s this other guy and i can’t get him off my mind and i’m worried i’m just viewing him as a safer alternative instead of coop but like. idk he was just my backup i feel like i would be more lukewarm about it. but i’m not. like. i’m really not i kind wish i was because i don’t know if i can do a relationship again especially because he’s mortal like i can’t have someone i care for die again so maybe it’s safer just to keep what i have with coop or maybe even to explore that further? and keep henry safe? but like this and that and this and that

and phoebe’s like buzzing because it’s been a while since she’s had such an interesting love mess to tinker with so the first thing she does is go to coop just to see what she can sus out there Meanwhile paige is with speed where you ask? p3. well, outside of it

speed is painting the side of the club with this amazing artwork and clearly there’s this vein of magic running through it with certain symbols all that and he’s using paintcans and paige has her paintbrush and is adding smaller pieces as well

and she’s like hey where’d you get like that idea or thing idea because they’re all like. runes or magical somethings or others and speeds like idk. saw it in a dream maybe.

and henry rolls up because he stopped at the manor looking for paige and piper directed him here and he’s just like. like he sees this amazing work and it’s a big heart full moment and paige and speed finish up and speed adds his little signature at the bottom and leaves and henry says he’s proud of him and speed acts like he doesn’t care but he does

so henry’s like hey how’s your friend and paige is like coop? yeah, no he’s totally fine and henry’s like really???

and paige is like yeah no um. my brother in law! is an army medic. so um. he was able to. yeah : ) which isn’t technically a lie because leo was he’s just also kinda frozen in a block of ice now so whoops

and henry’s like that’s good but the real reason he’s her it to like thank paige for you know like. seeing the light like maybe henry has become too bitter and jaded so it’s good to know that there are freelance guardian angels out there keeping the balance and you know watching out for these kids so thank you for just like. being a good person.

and he also looks at her art and he’s like this your coping mechanism and paige is like yeah [tragic backstory swap time!!] and both paige and henry kinda realize how they’re like almost mirrors to each other and henry kisses her and paige kisses him back but then stops because she likes him too much which means he’s gonna die

so she’s like sry i gotta go and henry’s like oh :\ because um. well. whoops. because like. god he so rarely goes out on a limb like that and for one moment there it felt like it was all gonna align like he wasn’t gonna get ditched but paige’s green punchbuggy is already peeling out of the lot so guess not

so phoebe’s determined that coop is indeed in love with paige so all that needs is a little nudging okay she’s on mission time to go

and then next thing you know paige is storming in all in a tizzy because she kissed henry and coop’s like this is great news and paige is like no this is bad news! and coop’s like ???

and paige is like no you don’t understand it’s like i’m cursed because whenever i love someone whenever i truly love someone they die and that kiss....... it was..... i can’t have henry die

and coop is like on full cupid mode idk a cupid monologue blah blah blah love <3 and it kind of heals paige both in a sense that it quells her worries but also in a sense that being around coop always seems to make her feel better like she just feels warmer feels safer when he’s around so um. she should probably. figure something out about that. esp in regards to henry. right?

anyways. coop for some reason or another runs into henry again (call it fate) and henry’s like hey r u okay? and coop’s like yeah : ) ! and thank you, by the way, for um patching me up and stuff and henry’s like yeah no problem but um look can i ask you a favor and coop’s like sure

and henry’s like you’re a relationship therapist right and coop’s like yeah 99% sure he knows where this is going and henry’s like like family and relationship counselling and coop’s now only like 40% sure he knows where this is going and he’s like sure and henry’s like great okay so um i’ve got this parolee who [plot background story idk there needs to be some familial healing something or other] is there like. anyway you can help out with that

and coop’s like totally!! and henry’s like oh thank god because like. therapy expensive.

and now we get another one of those moments like seeing someone in their element henry sees coop as he goes basically full cupid but rather than romantic love it’s familial and henry’s like in awe and he’s also kind like wow okay i’d totally make out with that guy like right now but like. like he just kissed paige. and he knows coop and paige are friends. so like. like he can’t do that right? is that too weird?

so family therapy a success and like as established forging bonds of love strengthens cupids so coop’s like word you know if you ever need this on a more regular basis and henry’s like i promise you’re gonna regret offering that and coop’s like not a chance and henry’s like i really have like nothing to pay you with and coop’s like you make these kids lives better. i don’t need payment and henry looks over and gets is Own aha moment of oh i do have a purpose and also i love my job type thing

but. there is another task at hand. because like. are you and paige?? like??

and coop’s like me and paige??? and he’s about to say no because no they’re not but now he’s thinking about it and they are kinda more than they are not but henry’s not asking about the minutiae of it so now henry’s just watching him go on this face journey before going why do you ask : ) and henry’s like no nothing i just thought like well i don’t know what i thought

and coop’s like haha yeah well you know it’s um. haha yeah! you know how it is. i mean. paige is amazing and henry’s like yeah she really is and coop’s like yeah and like she’s just got all this love in her heart and henry’s like i know!! and she’s so smart like you should see what she’s done with speed she got him this place where he can put up his own art and like blah blah blah and at this point it is just coop and henry praising paige to each other for about five minutes before they kinda realize what’s going on and they’re like hmm. well this is kinda weird. cuz now we both kinda sound in love with her.

and coop’s like listen. i know paige really likes you. like a lot

and henry’s like woah i’m gonna stop you there because um. like. i mean i don’t wanna sound weird but like. like we did kiss and then she kinda just ran off and i mean literally ran hopped into her car drove away type thing so. i don’t really think so. so :\

and coop’s like no i mean like okay yeah that did happen but dude you’ve gotta understand she’s had so much loss and henry’s like no i know she told be about her parents and coop’s voice gets real low leans in because this is Top Secret information and he’s like it goes beyond that and henry’s like what and coop’s like her past two boyfriends both died. one from a heart attack, the other was hit by a car (well, no richard was not hit by a car but when all the magic inside you fucks you up that bad evidently the wreck that’s left kinda looks like you were hit by a semi. ouch) and coop’s like so paige kinda just. thinks she’s cursed.

and henry’s like oh. because my god. that’s a lot to process. and that like. like makes so much sense because like if that happened to him he really wouldn’t be able to date again hell that did not happen to him and he’s already barely able to date bc of how afraid he is of getting hurt

but coop’s out here like henry it’s not you like i promise she really likes you i mean you’re a good man and you’re brave and you’re passionate and like you’re hot, obviously and coop theoretically starts complimenting henry from paige’s point of view but then it very clearly starts to dissolve into coop’s pov and we’re still riding that chemical high of the In Your Element passion henry has for coop added onto the good person bonus of yes i’ll continue to help you with this endeavor for literally no benefit and now he’s just rattling off compliments to henry and henry’s just like oh jeez 😳😳🥰

and there’s just like. the briefest moment of henry’s eyes darting down to coop’s lips and coop’s daze is kinda broken and he realizes that he’s just been telling henry how foioine he is to his face and there’s a moment spellbound lookin into each others eyes like damn this is kinda gay & then they’re making out

and then henry’s like ohhh my god what am i doing what have i done oh know because you’re paige’s friend you like paige and i kissed her earlier today and now i’m oh my god this is a bad idea right? this is a bad idea?

and coop’s thinking on it because like okay he has been trying to pair paige and henry together a) because they’d be cute together and she clearly likes him but also b) because he really likes her and he can’t be with her bc he’s a cupid so at least if she’s with someone else who she loves he can be happy knowing she’s happy. but now he’s here with henry and he shouldn’t be because Again he’s trying to pair paige with henry and he can’t be with henry bc as previously stated cupids can’t actually have relationships but he shouldn’t even be thinking that because henry isn’t for him but even if he was which he isn’t it wouldn’t work because he’s a cupid so um. yeah. this is a bad idea

yeah

yeah

no they’re makin out again.

anyways. l8r at p3 someone else who owns a local business sees the art on the wall outside and is like yo who did that because i would totally pay them to do idk my food truck or something and piper’s like i’ll tell u exactly who did that

so idk i think legally since speed’s a minor and a parolee henry has to be involved in the job getting process actually wait speed just turned 18. idk what any of this means but we’ll say henry needs to be there so piper gave paige the food truck guys digits and paige passes on the news to speed and henry and like. paige shows up at henry’s office to be like good news!!

and to level with you henry thought that like. after making out with coop maybe his feeling for paige would dissipate like maybe he was secretly gay this whole time and paige was just a safe route to project those feeling but paige comes in with this smile that puts the goddamn stars to shame and henry’s like nope!! still in love with her!!

and paige is like okay because like this is all set you know like this could even lead to a career in art for speed like and henry’s like yes absolutely but now that the initial glow of that has worn off they’re both kinda remembering that the last time they saw each other they kissed and then paige bolted so yeah they should probably address that

and paige is like look i want to apologize for just kind of. running out the other day. that really wasn’t. it wasn’t right and i know this sounds dumb but it really wasn’t about you i’m just i’ve been in this weird place and i do like you henry like i really do so i don’t want you to think 

and henry’s like i feel like i kind of apologize too because i kinda made out with your friend and paige pauses because like she really has no friends well i guess besides coop but like there’s and henry tacks on coop to clarify and paige just snorts laughing

like she has no idea why that’s so funny but it just kinda is like. what!!

and henry’s like yeah but it was like. it’s. he really likes you paige he really does care for you i mean i really care for you too and henry’s kind of playing both sides here because he does like. really like paige. and that’s why he wants her to be happy and it’s her choice who she feels who she’d be most happy with whether that’s hm or coop because honestly coop is p amazing henry wouldn’t be burnt losing to him because coop is a great guy and paige is just watching him ramble smiling and henry realizes he doesn’t know what he’s saying anymore so he just kind of trails off and gets kind of lost in paige’s smile because like. wow : )

and paige is just kind of there processing that information because um wow who could have seen this coming and honestly she’s still not over coop kissing henry that’s just so unbelievable entertaining to her she’s so gonna hafta prod coop about it later because dude what?? what? bro. bro. bro. like. like the two guys she’s in love with kissed like bro what!!!! lmao she would pay money to see that how tf did that happen. she would have loved to have been there. that’s insane. she really wished she was there. like. really wished she was there. hmm. should she stew on that a little more?

and henry’s like. this is awkward. i’m sorry. i don’t want things to be weird between us. and paige is like henry i think things have been weird between us since i first picked an argument with you in an alleyway. and henry’s like true!! and they’re laughing and there’s a beat and henry’s like i think i fell in love with you in that moment. and paige is like yeah?

and henry’s just. i mean like. look at her <3 but like. she deserves. like she deserves the best there is and he’s just some guy like some jaded hardass who lives in a crappy apartment and who always forgets how to do the right thing it seems not to mention all his fucking baggage like. she deserves better. 

and paige sees him kinda retreat and like she kind of pulls out of the moment too because she loves henry she does but like that fear that he’s gonna die is still there and she wants to fight it she just doesn’t know if she can but like. she really really does like him.

and now they’re both standing there again another moment turned to dust in the wind now they’re just two people standing there incredibly normal about it yep just two people nope paige is kissing henry ope okay yep they’re making out and boom someone’s knocking on henry’s office door o quick act natural because hi henry heard you needed like the legal paperwork because speed’s getting a job here you go and henry’s like 👍 thank you very obviously flushed and his coworker is like. what the fuck is going on in that office. but like. doesn’t really care enough to find the answer to that question.

so paige is like you should come to p3 l8r tonight to like celebrate speed getting a job blah blah blah blah and henry’s like i will be there

so later paige is getting dolled up in a fire outfit just adding the final touches when coop shows up bc phoebe said you needed to see me? (with phoebe’s strategy fully being in mind that paige looks hella fly right now but also is still in the manor an area paige and coop have kind of curated as their space also like once she goes to p3 it’s simply too loud too crowded to have a heart to heart like what is about to happen here which she would listen all unfold but piper unfortunately dragged her away to help with the boys but i’m sure it’s all going well)

and paige is like ....nope. and coop’s like ah. well. you look great. going to see henry? which he asks that question like he’s walking on very thin ice and paige is like yeah and i gotta say i can’t believe you kissed henry before you ever kissed me and coop just laughs like well!!

and paige is laughing too but there’s this undercurrent of you still haven’t kissed me :/ and coop’s like i take it henry told you and paige is like yep. and then made a very convincing campaign in your favor on how you’re evidently in love with me and you’re probably my better option, he loves me, too, but just can’t seem to hold a candle to you

and coop’s laughing and he’s like that sounds like something henry’d say, he’s really. he’s got a lot of love he just doesn’t seem to think he’s worth it.

and paige is like you think he’s worth it though

and coop’s like i do. you think he’s worth it too. and paige is like i do.

and there’s a moment of stillness because what the fuck are any of them doing and paige is like we can’t keep doing this. and coop’s like gonna hafta be a bit more specific there because i think i’ve broken more rules than i can count in the past 24 hours. and paige is wanna make that one more and coop’s like !? and then paige kisses him and coop’s like okay now’s the time where i would really love some clarification

and paige is like. well. i had to kiss you, right? and coop’s like sure? and paige is like because i’ve wanted to for the longest time because i keep pretending like i’m not in love with you because well you know you know me better than almost anyone else but like. i also love henry. and so i had to kiss you. as a test.

and coop’s like ...did i pass?

and paige is like that wasn’t the test and coop’s like what was and paige is like i don’t know. to see where my love is. to see if i love you or if i love henry or if it’s all just infatuation and relfections distorting how i feel and coop’s like okay. so... what’s the answer?

and paige is like i love henry. but then she kisses coop again and is like but i think i love you, too. and they’re doing that thing where they lack bubble space when they talk i mean paige’s head is basically on his chest and coop’s hands are on her waist and coop’s like okay. so where do you want to go from here.

because he’s a cupid you know his top priority is love in its purest form so if like paige’s love for henry like outweighs her love for him he will pretend not to be crushed and move on like he will. he’s saying he’ll do anything in the name of love but really he’ll just do anything for paige.

and paige is like i think you should kiss henry again and coop laughs and he’s like don’t joke about that because complete candor i totally would he is... amazing

and paige is like yeah, i know, and i’m not joking and it kind of clicks for coop like !! polyromanticism!!

anyways. paige And coop go to p3 and henry’s there and sees paige And coop and he’s like uh oh oh no because if paige chose coop like he’s happy for them he really is except he’s also kind of not because then he kind of loses paige And coop and um. that’s kind of a two hit KO. but wait!! that is not the case! what’s this??

anyways. quirky hijinks of sorts when phoebe sees that paige came home with henry and she’s like damn. my plan failed. and the next morning piper’s like i see ur plan worked and phoebe’s like yeah no need to rub it in and piper’s like ??? dude paige totally hooked up with coop last night and phoebe’s like no?? that was the other guy that was henry

and piper’s like that was definitely coop?? and phoebe’s like piper not every tall man with dark hair looks the same and piper’s like no shit do you think i don’t know what coop looks like he practically lives here and phoebe’s like yeah that’s how i know the guy paige brought home w her was Not Coop and piper’s like do you need new glasses and phoebe’s like shut up i’m right and piper’s like no ur not!!

and later that day they’re like. all brewing a potion in the attic and like while we have you here...... did you hook up with henry or coop last night and phoebe’s like because piper thought it was coop when i very clearly saw henry and piper’s like yeah phoebe hasn’t been sleeping well lately i think she’s started seeing things so go ahead prove me right and paige is just laughing like okay so i guess i gotta introduce u guys to my 2 boyfriends

[heathneycanon]

reasons why phobia factor fucking slaps

ok this lowkey just turned into me rambling abt phobia factor while i rewatched it. putting it under a read more bc it’s super long lmao

like, the entire first five minutes are the campers being friendly to each other?? and vulnerable, to a degree??? you know i love that shit

courtney and trent?? talk to each other?? like. okay they’re never in the same frame together unfortunately, but they do have like, two whole back and forth conversations.

also in that campfire scene at the beginning, cody and trent are sitting next to each other and there are some. good screencaps

“exSQUEEZE me?!” like cody. ur such a dork omfg

duncan vulnerability hours

lindsay asks what a standee is and trent explains it and doesn’t mock her/isn’t annoyed with her at all, in contrast to a lot of the other campers interacting with lindsay. i love them as friends SO much u all have no idea

harold’s little scene with the ninjas. i love him sm. why does he have nunchucks with him when he goes to the bathroom??

leshawna is afraid of spiders and she runs away screaming from. chef wearing a spider suit??? like i don’t love spiders but if a man i knew wearing a spider costume was calmly walking toward me i wouldn’t react the same way as i would to a real spider. anyway i think this is hilarious.

season one heather vulnerability hours.....

i mean, i really wish they’d actually shown her talking abt her fear at the campfire, rather than just having it told by gwen in the confessional, but i get why they did that. regardless that one scene right before the sumo wrestler charges at her where she’s literally shaking.... i want to give her a hug

side note i hope the sumo wrestler is okay he hit his head quite a few times

ok so. trent accidentally leaving gwen buried underground because he’s getting chased by a mime isn’t like. a sweet gwent moment. but it is one of their interactions that i remember most vividly from tdi lmfao

what is a cute gwent moment is trent like. kneeling next to her while chris is burying her. and the face he makes at chris when he jokes abt not digging her up..... i love them sm

also gwen sounds so fucking dramatic when they close the box she’s in like. “goodbye cruel world” gwen ur being buried for 5 minutes ur not dying sdfjlafskj i love her

duncan hyping dj up before he picks up the snake is so cute?? like he’s clapping for him and he’s got what i call “adorable duncan face” which is where his eyes are full circles and he’s smiling. i can remember him making this face at courtney, dj, and alejandro throughout the series and it’s just. ugh loving soft duncan hours

“ah! it blinked” “it means she likes you” sadie where are u getting this information

okay so i googled if this was true and the result i got was “snakes can’t blink” so first of all i have no clue where sadie pulled that fact from and i have even less of an idea of where chris got that fucking. blinking snake from. is that even a snake??

when dj picks up the snake and they all hype him up?????? i love the killer bass so much it’s unreal

more cute gwent moments... gwen and trent talking on the walkie talkies.. they’re so cute

when the mime pops up behind trent and he does that little scream.... it’s loving trent hours u guys

trent is so bothered by a mime literally just. being a mime. me too trent. me too.

duncan and the celine dion music store standee.... everything abt that scene

"DUDE SHE’S MADE OF CARDBOARD” tyler i love you

courtney genuinely saying that it’s okay if he can’t do it (when she was being harsh to dj about the snake earlier..... duncney is so good in tdi u guys)

and then theY HOLD HANDS GUYSSSS IM SOFT FOR THEM

and THAT is what gives duncan the encouragement he needs to go for it?? they’re so good.

his “okay, okay” right before going for it... duncan’s voice acting is so good in this episode omfg

THE MUSIC THAT PLAYS WHEN HE HUGS THE STANDEE AND THEN EVERYONE CHEERING ITS SUCH A GOOD SCENE

THE DUNCNEY HUG

“duncan, you’re awesome!” and the look of shock on his face at both the fact that he did it and that courtney’s hugging him...... have i mentioned i love duncney yet?? bc i do

i can’t believe i used to dislike duncney omfg

then when courtney realizes that she’s hugging him and steps back jafksdfjlsa she’s so cute

and then the rest of the bass come over and hype duncan up more like. i love how supportive they all are in this episode!!

trent is so excited when he finally gets the mime to leave him alone fakjldjfl like he didn’t have to ROAST the dude. but he did.

chris somehow owns a remote control hail cloud?

lindsay getting excited about the “baby cloud” and calling it over?? she’s so cute omfg

trent fucking. hates geoff. gwent has geoffphobia in tdi ig

when they dig up gwen and she throws the walkie talkie at his head but he doesn’t stop smiling..... your honor i love them

owen and izzy getting out of the plane and kissing the ground together..... adorable.

cody with a fucking. watermelon on his head and covered in trash scares bridgette out of the woods. that will never not be funny to me

THAT ONE FUCKING SCENE. WHERE SADIE AND LINDSAY HYPE EACH OTHER UP. THAT MAY BE ONE OF MY FAVORITE SCENES IN THE ENTIRE SERIES. I LOVE THEM SM

the only bad thing abt this ep- tyler should have gotten the fucking point. he completed the challenge. i love courtney, but realistically, she should have gone home this ep and tyler should have stayed.

bridgette hyping tyler up...... im soft they should be friends

“quit being such a girl” courtney im sorry but the only reason you’re still in the game rn is because ezekiel made sexist comments in episode one. what are u saying lmfao

tyler and heather’s reactions to their fears rly make me think. bc like. most of the other campers have a more outward, loud reaction, maybe scream and run away. a couple are just a little wigged out. gwen gets a little snippy and is clearly super freaked out as well. but tyler and heather just. completely shut down. like, curled up in a ball, nonverbal, and shaking. makes u think.

why did cody need a calculator to figure out that the score was 7/3....... cody is canon lgbt+ bc he can’t do basic math without a calculator confirmed

also regardless of how little sense that made. at least that screencap gave us commie cody

when gwen starts trying to psych courtney out and heather like. gasps and looks shocked..... i like to think that heather feels a little bad for courtney here. heathney real.

duncan and bridgette hyping courtney up..... i love the killer bass so much omfg

courtney looks so sad when she walks away from the jelly.......

and then in the confessional right after?? she’s like. crying a little bit :( and she’s beating herself up abt it like..... :( courtney no

LITERALLY she’s like “how could i be so weak” “i deserve to go home” “you’re pathetic” (to herself) and then tells herself to show some confidence and then. she just starts crying again. and then slaps herself?? GOD I FUCKING LOVE COURTNEY SHE’S SO HARD ON HERSELF

owen just. hangin out in the tub of jelly. i love u, u wild dude. fuckin sit in that green jelly. loving owen hours

the little look that courtney and tyler give each other when they’re the last two without marshmallows..... half solidarity half “i don’t want to be the one going home”. i love them sm :(

i KNOW i said this earlier but. tyler should NOT have gone home this episode!!!!!! only bad thing abt this ep

all the fuckin chicken puns are a little bit funny tho

“he won’t be flying high tonight” bridgette chickens can’t fly

when courtney goes “okay, that’s enough” like. tyler’s not even there at this point but she’s defending him. maybe it’s because she still feels she should have gone home instead? maybe it’s because of that little bit of solidarity she felt for him when they were the final two without a marshmallow? maybe i’m reading too much into this? but idk. i think it’s sweet

okay no i have another complaint. what the fuck was the whole boat ride for tyler?? like when sadie gets eliminated the surprise she gets is that katie is on the boat. when tyler is on the boat, CRYING, after literally none of his teammates came to see him off, after he LITERALLY COMPLETED THE CHALLENGE BUT DIDN’T GET CREDIT FOR IT. the fucking. CHICKENS POP OUT?????? tyler deserved better

also some of the challenges were a lot easier, or at the very least, harder to fail than others this ep. i love it but come on. lindsay and sadie vs like. gwen vs owen and izzy vs dj. there were very different time limits, actual fright level, ability to back out once they were doing the challenge.... not a fair challenge

also uhm. if we’re being technical tyler and heather had the exact same reaction to their fears, so why did heather get a point and tyler didn’t? if the chicken had run at him, would he have won? smh

i do love this episode so much but. i had a couple complaints

okay finally lindsay’s little confessional to tyler where she blows him a kiss.... they’re so adorable lyler rights!!

[themilky-way]

like water {din djarin}

gif credit: no-droids

pairing: the mandalorian/din djarin x fem!reader

summary: when the one person he cares about is threatened, he lets himself indulge in the aftermath of defending them. 

warnings: some violence in the beginning, choking (not in the fun way), depictions of scratches, punches, and minor abrasions; the reader is hurt basically. oh and mando’s gun bc yeah❤️umm that’s it i think? nothing too horrible tho but if this thing triggers you, please don’t read !!

author’s note: not to be conceited or anything (is that even the right word for it lol?) but im super proud of how this turned out! requests are open btw for anyone who wishes to submit anything (if unsure, just ask which fandoms)!

----------

cyar’ika-> darling, sweetheart

nothing in that exact moment had made much sense. one minute the most precious thing to ever exist to him was snatched away, and the next his hands were gripping the treasure beneath his holster. his knuckles were lily-white at this point, holding the gun as hard as his body would allow him to without crushing underneath him, and the urge to cock it made him visibly shake. he’d been given a command, and out of all the merciless men in the filthy galaxy, he needed to follow it, so his weapon of preference stayed where it needed to. 

the meager specks of emotion that still lived within him betrayed his prominent composure, the view in front of him blocked by the sudden glaze of his eyes. the small drops of saltwater puddled together in his now hazy orbs, holding on until it was nearly impossible to stay put and then rivered down his cheeks. the cause? well, you.

you were filling up the mandalorian’s line of vision, his eyes darting between you and the bounty that had gone wrong. an alienated hand was wrapped around your innocent throat, your feeble hands wrapped around its wrist in a dumb attempt to break free. the ground you were roaming on before appeared to be never ending, and in the same way, the darkened sky absorbed you whole. vertigo was now in full effect; any quick movement caused you to shut your eyes tightly and hope to the maker you’d get through it. it took a few seconds for you to regain your balance, a sharp pain pinging around your neck forcing you to find it. you half expected to be back on the mud again, to have the man you had spent the past year flying around with pulling you to safety. instead, you found din frozen in place, an instinctive action rooted in the steel handle of his pistol. he wasn’t moving, too scared to blink as if you’d disappear if he did. 

perhaps you were; someone like you seemed too good to be true. in all actuality, it may be that you were a fever dream, a celestial that had come down from the sanctity of your home to finally rescue him from his burdens. amidst his frantic glances, he reminisced every second he’d spent with you since your unforeseen arrival, and that somehow worked for him. the gears in his brain started to turn again, and with every ounce of his strength, he pounced on the quarry and did what he should’ve done the instant you were taken from him. anger took over his worry, the effects illustrating themselves in a collage of mitted fists and blood. the pistol residing on din’s waist was useless compared to his hits; the softened position of his jawbone was locked firmly as a result of his gritted teeth and he was going to need more than your delicate hand on his shoulders to ground his senses. 

the mandalorian never expected to succumb to anyone, nor to feel remotely joyful upon hearing someone’s laugh. the idea of kindling a relationship was ludicrous, utterly impossible if only he weren’t bound to the chains of his creed. oftentimes, he wondered if someone would one day traverse his path and make him question every moral he’d been taught. din had dismissed the thought, as any other member of his intricate society would have, but the wondrous insight depicting a different lifestyle always lingered faintly in his mind. 

today, the very same visions behind his recurrent insomnia framed themselves in a frail art piece. din’s focus laid directly ahead, the fingers navigating the center controls as tight as they’d been on his gun. his eyes deserved to rest, perhaps take in the splashes of color nature was offering him, but he landed them on the same lovely sculpture adorning his cockpit. 

you were seated in the chair adjacent from the pilot’s, with your knees closely tucked to your chest. one large scrape designed itself on your leg-a dull reminder of the ordeal you were involved in hours earlier-with flakes of arid blood protecting the wound. bouncing off the skin of your throat were shades of red and purple, now properly mixing into a deeper complexion that’d require you to hide it for some time. besides the scattered nicks living on your face, and the other couple dozen on your arms and legs, the outcome wasn’t as terrible as the one your attacker received. it was a rule of thumb to not mess with a mandalorian, much less with the pretty little lady clutching his arm as if it were second nature. the foolest of fools wouldn’t even have done such a foul thing, and this particular creature came to know the punishment for harming what wasn’t rightfully his. 

it truly amazed him; the way you seemed to be so unphased by a traumatic circumstance. the woman beside him-the same one who couldn’t sleep unless a window was open-had endured pain, and the marks on her skin proved themselves in jagged indications of it. through the darkened screen of his visor, din could make out your hands neatly intertwined around your folded knees, your chin simultaneously resting on top. you’d been as observant as you always were, hardly missing his actions as he navigated his newfound family to a safe stop. sure, you were unaware of the loving term he considered of you and the baby, but it didn’t hurt to keep it a secret, right?

“hey.” it came out more hoarse than he intended it to, but the emotion behind it flowed out nonetheless. “you okay?”

not really. i don’t feel good. it was easy to say exactly that, to speak the truth, but it was even easier to lie. for the sake of his own worry, at most. your eyes were still glued to his armor, taking in the rough outline of where you imagined his skin would be underneath, or moreso the abstract idea of feeling it with your hands. reflections of your yearning came and went like the mandalorian’s missions, almost impulsively at times, and the curious, teasing tilts his helmet would bid you only encouraged that craving. much like now; the black “T” of his expressionless face leaned to the side, asking you to earnestly respond. “mm, yeah. ‘m kinda tired, though,” you mumbled.

you threw him a lie and he caught it. “don’t lie to me.” din swiveled his chair to accordingly match the peripheral of yours, his elbows coming to rest on top of his beskar-clad legs. “can you look at me?” he inquired softly. then, his intent fell on the slow shift of your head and how it turned to face him, your cheek settling on your unscathed knee. a breath fell from his lips at the doting admiration swimming in your stare. “there she is,” he confirmed with an upward curl of his lips. “is there anything i can do?” it was sincere; a genuine concern to accompany his question. you hummed in response, fearful to accidentally voice the confessions you hid from him. you blinked once, twice, until his question became a plea. “please, cyar’ika.”

reasonably, you were too busy exploring the shape of his helmet, permitting your creative imagination to paint images of the man next to you; so when your ears perceived his sudden name of endearment, there was nothing amongst the stars that you could’ve possibly denied him from. “you’ve never called me that before,” you smiled, all big and brilliant. 

“i’ve wanted to,” the man replied. what resembled ages of pent up stress released with a few curated words. his muscles relaxed, something he never believed to be attainable given his vigorous profession. “god, i’ve wanted to.” 

he followed it with a humble laugh. a sound so familiar and warm, so genuine that it empowered your grin to spread higher. “by all means, keep saying it.” now it was your turn to nervously giggle, and him who embraced the noise with everything he could. a mutual infatuation, so wonderfully obvious, yet it was refused acknowledgment. “i think there is something you can do, though.” silence advised you to continue, “can i sleep with you tonight?” 

the misguided pieces of your minds’, maybe even your souls’, reattached themselves that very same night. as the both of you slept, hands, calloused and smooth, intimately merged against the cushions of the warrior’s bed. tender kisses planted to your forehead left electricity in their wake, and the dark ambiance of his dwelling favored the entanglement of your tired bodies. 

“i wish i could see you, din,” you sighed. the manner in which it was expressed, full of sleep and everything akin, urged him to lift your weightless wrist to his lips. 

“you’ll get to one day, cyar’ika. for now just let me hold you, yeah?”

[joontier]

The King’s Guard | Chapter 1

pairings: kim seokjin x reader; jeon jungkook x reader

series rating: R (18+) | genre: historical drama au!; king seokjin! au; established relationship! au; royalty! au!; 

warnings: non-graphic mentions of an abuse by Y/N’s stepmama; mentions of death; ANGST; horny ass jinnie and y/n; groping; unprotected sex bc condoms werent invented yet; fingering; edging if ya squint; impregnation kink; voyeurism; oral m and f receiving; slight degradation; good god i have never written this much filth in my life, brb gotta go to church;

word count:  6.3k

g/n: hEY HEY HEY BACK WITH THE SMUT YALL; anywho a few disclaimers before u read this sweetie, YES, its Jung Jungkook for a reason, you’ll see soon enough ;) also,,,, there might be a few korean words thrown in there but ya know context clues or u could search them up too if u want,,,, but i’ll also be placing them at the end of this post for ya <3 P.S. this is also going to turn into a series y’aLLLL GAHHHH

The King’s Guard - Masterlist  ||  navi.

The King’s Guard | Chapter 1

It’s with Seokjin’s relentless pounding from behind you that you figure that the council meeting probably didn’t go well today. You’ve discovered that times of intimacies like these were a way to relieve himself of the stresses of being a newly pronounced king. Not that you were complaining though.

His fingers find your clit with practiced ease, rubbing at sensitive nub with great fervor. Seokjin’s punishing thrusts become slower as you both reached your highs, his cock falling limp shortly after he pulls out of you. Reaching over to the nearby table, he grabs a towel and dips it on the bowl of water, wiping away traces of his climax between your thighs. He pulls up his pants previously bunched in his ankles and arranges the rest of his durumagi, removing any possible evidence of your quick fuck.

“Council meeting went bad?” you asked, rubbing at your numbing forearms due to your husband’s forceful movements against the table he’d fucked you against. Seokjin briefly throws a sheepish look your way, guessing  you have finally figured out his nasty antics of de-stressing, but his beautiful face turns serious as he once again reminded of his responsibilities as king.

“Well with Minseok’s recent death, the dried-up lands in the far east, and an uprising rebellion in the south, I can’t say the meeting went particularly…peaceful,” Seokjin heaves a sigh and rests his hands on his knees.

Minseok was a trusted royal guard, serving Seokjin’s family for nearly all his life and had perished due to an attack during a visit to the southern city. While Minseok’s death caused a great loss in the palace, his blood symbolized the initial step towards an uprising, spurring on the southern troops even further.

With your back facing him, you felt remorseful as your hand subconsciously reaches for the south’s emblem given by your father, hidden beneath the thick collar of your hanbok – a harsh reminder that you were once from the southern palace – and yet you couldn’t do anything to help your king.

It was one thing being only half royalty and another being the only heir to the throne. After multiple tries, prayer movements, and endless offerings, the real queen of the south proved to be infertile and could not bear a child for the king. In the past however, a childless monarch proved to be an advantage to those who attempted to overthrow the throne. Hence your biological father, the king, decided that he needed to have an heir at once. However, the only other lady your dad would trust with such great feat is the head court lady, your mom, who became the king’s only concubine – ergo, your coming into this world.

Your father acknowledged you as his daughter the moment he heard your first cry as a newborn, much to the queen’s repressed opposition. She knew she had no other choice but to give in to your father’s recognition, but her display of hatred for you never stopped at your birth. Your life was an endless tale of narrow escapes from her atrocities.

On the bright side, you maintained a healthy relationship with your father, he taught you how to read and write, he showed you the ins and outs of the city, gave you your first archery lesson, and even taught you a thing or two about politics and diplomacy. You were well-founded for a girl your age, considering that women in your society were only perceived to be bearers of children and raisers of the young instead of hitting sack targets on a moving horse and being deployed on diplomatic affairs.

Life was almost perfect if it weren’t for your very promising antagonist of stepmother. The rest of the palace, your father included, regarded her as your stepmother, but she never came close to being a motherly figure in your life. Quite frankly, you knew she wanted you dead even before you grew a heart – probably the only reason why she wasn’t blessed with a child. The two-headed snake deserved it.

Unfortunately, you weren’t the only victim of her cruelty. As you grew up, you knew she was bound to get worse, it didn’t come as much of a shock when you heard of her plans to murder your father and your biological mother. What you didn’t expect though that the breakfast you’d shared with your father that morning was the last time you’ll ever see him.

You fled from the palace that night, bumping into Seokjin as you exited the gates of the palace. He recognizes your face from previous council meetings and have been acquainted with each other as members of royalty, but he’s never seen you in such a state of distress. Before he could ask you why you were running away from the palace at such hour, you mounted his horse and pleaded to him to take you anywhere else but your home – your previous home.

One look at your tear-stained face was all he needed and he turned his horse around, despite questioning looks he got from his guards. He had brought you back to the capital and took you in the palace. Soon friends turned to lovers and the rest is history.

Seokjin notices your silence and he’s come up from the edge of the bed to envelop you in his arms. “A frown isn’t fitting for a queen,” he takes your chin between his fingers and turns your face towards him. “What’s wrong, love?” he asks, confused by the frown drawn upon your face.

“I just…” you start off, but when your fingers find the cold metal of the necklace, you fall silent again. Seokjin sighs as he finally catches on your despondence and gives you a tighter hug and a fleeting kiss on the forehead.

For once in a long time, you felt like it was just the two of you again alone in the room, alone in the world. Just two lovers, no treacherous stepmothers, no responsibilities, no nation to take care of. Your mind races back to the memories of you sneaking out of the palace to your agreed rendezvous or walking to your secret garden to talk about your daily endeavors. Seokjin made this cruel world more bearable and you will always be eternally grateful for that. He would always shower you with the greatest support and understanding, fully aware of what you have been deprived of during your childhood.

Seokjin on one hand feels equally thankful to have you enter his life, to have you as his wife. He had always admired your knowledge in various things and he frequently shows fondness for your wit in a very remarkable way – like that one time he had brought you to a council meeting to share your ideas (a taboo in the culture – seeing as women weren’t cut in making political decisions) and called an advisor an imbecile for suggesting a huge increase in taxes when a fourth of the city was struggling with famine. Needless to say, Seokjin found the sight of you standing up to his advisors more than arousing so he had sent everyone home at once and two minutes after everyone had left, he already had you bent over his desk, fucking you into oblivion.

Your husband leaves shortly after taking a few scrolls from the shelves before inviting you to dinner, winking as he leaves your room, telling you that he has specially requested the kitchen to cook your favorite dish for dinner tonight. You take a bath during your husband’s absence, indulging yourself in a milk bath, while the servants scrub at your back and arms. As a child, the southern palace only afforded you cold baths with the heat in the south constantly unbearable but mainly because the queen was adamant on treating you badly. She’d made sure you regularly bathe in cold ones, even worse during the winter. You couldn’t keep count of the times you had to be rescued back to life by the court ladies after nearly shivering to death.

The servants take their leave as they’ve scrubbed most of the expanse of skin you’ve exposed for them to exfoliate and you sink further into the pool, a variety of petals floating around and about as you create ripples with your hands.

“My Queen,” a court lady bows her head as she enters your chambers. “The King requests your presence for the inauguration of the new king’s guards,” she informs, not meeting your eyes as you wear your undergarments. You give her a hum of approval and wait for the servants to finish braiding your hair so you could accompany your husband during the ceremony.

You can feel the pebbles under your shoes move with the steady beat of the drums. The inauguration was supposed to be held a few more months later but because of the death of Minseok, the ceremony had to be moved to an earlier date. You were about to turn the corner when the someone in torn, ragged clothes ran in front of you, your guards ushering you backwards to protection. With two watchmen already following the man, two from your group follow to see what the scurry is all about.

The remaining guards that are with you lead you towards the field quickly to evade any further commotion. When you reach where Seokjin is situated, he acknowledges you briefly, worry swimming in his eyes. You place a comforting hand on his to assure him that there is nothing to be worried about. Once you have settled in your seat, a guard comes up to Seokjin’s side and the drums stop. “Your Royal Highnesses, King Seokjin and the Queen.” Your husband raises a hand to acknowledge the crowd surrounding the field, all present to witness the ceremony.

“Let the inauguration of the new royal guards begin.”

The drums fall into a steady rhythm once again, men clad in red and white silk uniforms pile in groups of twenty. Applause falls within the crowd, hands busy clapping for the newly inducted protectors of the palace. You see a few girls displaying themselves by the corner where the guards enter the field. They mask their flirtatious looks under the guise of modesty, covering their powdered faces with fans while sending coquettish looks to the guards.

Seokjin lets out a chuckle when he follows your line of vision and you reply deftly “I don’t blame them. I’d definitely do the same when you’re in your uniform.” You try your best not to wink at your husband especially at a public gathering like this, but your witty effort to get him to stop judging you has proved to be effective. You know he is most likely going to punish you about this tonight and the idea already has you squirming in your seat.

“My King, may I present to you the new captain of the royal guards, Jung Jungkook of the east.” A man from the first row steps forward. “My King, my Queen.” He acknowledges your presence, bowing from the waist. Jung Jungkook drops to the ground, his weight resting on one leg. He draws his sword, plunges it to the ground – the sound of metal slicing through the soil ringing throughout the field. “I am Jung Jungkook from the Jung clan of the east. My father has served the royal family for many years and has perished terribly during the attack of the South. I am here to restore the honor to my family by serving your highness, to serve the capital, and to avenge my late father.” His head is hung low, yet he is breathing heavily, the weight of his emotions too heavy on his shoulders.

Seokjin leans forward, “Your father has fought well and there is no greater honor than to die for the safety of your countrymen. I am glad he has a son to continue the legacy of your family. Stand, Jung Jungkook, for I know your father’s soul is now at peace.” The man complies and speaks, “Long live King Seokjin, long live the capital!” The rest of the two hundred men follow suit. The citizens join in on the cheering but your eyes linger on the new captain and the faded scar on his left cheek.

The turmoil in the south has worsened during the past few weeks. You rarely see your husband nowadays, constantly trapped for hours on end inside the four walls of his office. You can feel the pressure of being the king taking its toll on him. The servants tell you that he barely touches his food and that your husband also always comes in late at night and leaves early at dawn to work. It’s bringing you great worry that Seokjin couldn’t properly take care of himself nowadays.  

Your attempts to aide him during these stressful times prove to be futile, especially with his damned advisors who keep on barring you from entering his office or attending the council meetings. It is believed anyways that the queen only tends to matters of the royal household and that women have no right to give counsel. Unfortunately for them, you are no ordinary queen nor are you just a queen. You are also the wife of your beloved husband and a handful of stubborn councilmen has never stopped you before.

While the royal advisors are busy wasting too much time on a singular issue, you went out on your own to witness the effects of the famine of the east. Most of the crops that were delivered throughout the country was produced in the east because of their healthy soil and the waters surrounding the city. When a month has passed and there were still no signs of rain in the east, you know this was going to cause a huge problem and eventually another predicament for Seokjin. You had lived long enough in the onerous south to witness problems like this turn into bigger ones.

You have made arrangements to visit the city and so far, your plan going smoothly as planned. You manage to sneak out of the royal seamstress’ room after paying her a decent amount of silver coins for a commoner’s dress. It’s getting late and your husband will be returning to your room soon so you trudge back a little faster just to make it in time. When you reach the back door to your room, you see two guards lounging stand up abruptly at your presence. “M-my q-queen,” he bows, not meeting your eyes. “It’s alright. Just don’t tell anybody.”

Seokjin enters the room just when you’re stood in front of the mirror, hands removing the pins from your head. He slides the wooden door gently and sends you a small smile through the reflection on your mirror. “Why don’t I help you with that?” You gently decline his offer, not wanting to bother your exhausted king with any more chores. It’s unfair how he is still impeccably handsome even with the weariness evident on his face. Seokjin still insists though, claiming that a king’s functions should not be an excuse to escape those of a husband’s. “And besides, I ought to know how to do this if we’ll have a daughter in the future.” The statement was supposed to be a genuine shot at what the future might hold but your body’s treacherous response is far from the innocence of Seokjin’s statement.

Just the thought of it has heat pooling in your abdomen. You haven’t had enough time in your hands to spend time to think about things like that, Seokjin being a newly-crowned king, more so as a newly-wedded couple.

Your husband notices the deep breath you take, his eyes slowly getting darker by the second. He takes the last golden pin from your braids, letting your hair fall into loose waves. You feel relieved when the strain on your scalp melts away in seconds – something that you should’ve been used to by now, considering that you have been royalty all your life, but nothing beats that fresh wave of relief when you free your hair from all the pins and ribbons. That’s why when Seokjin cards his fingers through your locks, you feel the rising of the small hairs at the back of your neck, such mundane action bordering on sensual.

He does this a few more times in silence, just combing through your hair gently, deeming that seeing you fall into such comfort like this is enough for him. His chaste intentions though are all thrown aside when you lean against him, your undone hanbok falls from your shoulder, exposing the skin there in all its glory. Your husband takes all your hair and transfers it on your left shoulder and you tilt your head to the same side, giving him space where he could pepper all his kisses on.

He murmurs sweet nothings against your skin while sending fleeting kisses from your ear’s helix, to your cheek, you jawline then down to your shoulders. “Little you and me running around…” he murmurs while pushing the rest of your hanbok off your body. It doesn’t take much effort, the silken cloth sliding down easily and now you’re just left in your undergarments.

“Would you like that, my queen?” Seokjin asks, fingers thumbing the ribbon that’s keeping together the last layer of clothing you have on. It takes only one breathy ‘yes’ from you and the cloth covering your intimacies falls altogether, leaving no trace of modesty.

He cups both breasts in each palm, squeezing and kneading the flesh. Your nipples are firm, already hardened by the worshipping kisses he places all over. He trails a finger along your jaw, turning your face toward him. His lips meet yours, plump lips pressing gently against your own. When you figure he’s about to pull away, he grips your ass and you gasp, pushing his tongue into your mouth.

You moan into the kiss, your heart thudding hard against your ribcage. It’s been too long since you had seen your husband so… sensual. Usually, you’re both in a rush with the sole intent of getting some release but tonight, it seems as if Seokjin is determined to take his time in claiming all of you in the most intimate of ways, slowly but surely like it’s the last night of his life.

Seokjin savors every moan, every whimper as his deft fingers roam your body. He loves every curve and dip; how soft and taut it is at the same time. The milk baths you’ve always indulged in and your younger days of archery and horse riding had definitely done you good. He tries to etch them all into his memory though he knows flashes of images of you in his brain could never give justice to the reality of having you in his arms.

His fingers reach your cunt and he cups it, making you lean further against him for support. You feel the fine sheen of sweat of his torso on his back and for a moment you wonder how he’s managed to take his to take his top off without taking a hand off you. He pulls you away from your thoughts when he tugs you closer to him, shamelessly grinding his erection against your ass. He finds your clit easily through memory, rubbing the sensitive nub, fingers moving slowly in circular motions.

“S-seokjin please,” you beg, knowing you’re nearly there but still so far away, far too greedy to orgasm on clitoral stimulation alone. You needed him inside you. Now. “Speak up, my love,” he orders, shallowly dipping a finger in your cunt and withdrawing it just as quick. “Please. Y-you. Need y- “You’re rendered breathless by his teasing, your hand traveling to tug at his hair. “You want me to put a baby in you, hmm?” He finally pushes a finger in. “You’d love that don’t you? Having to carry the next heir to the throne inside you?” Another finger breaches you, Seokjin chuckling when you let out a loud gasp.

He nips at the shell of your ear, reminding you of the presence of the guards outside in a low whisper. Your hand instantly moves to cover your mouth but Seokjin grabs you by the wrists. “Who told you to cover your mouth, hmm? We both know you want the whole palace to hear how filthy their queen is.” Seokjin must admit, the whole idea is just as pleasing to him as it is to you. You were practically squelching when his fingers quicken the pace, your orgasm coming to you at breakneck speed. The feeling of his fingers toying with your cunt too much for you to handle that you are unable to stop your lover’s name fall like a prayer on your lips. Your whole body trembles in his grip, legs threatening to give in. A whimper escapes you when he pulls his fingers out, sending him a glare through the mirror. You were so, so close.

“My love, as much as I enjoy seeing you wrecked under my touch through the mirror, we have to take this to the bed.” He gives you a chaste kiss on the cheek and tugs at your arm, but you stand your ground. You wag a finger at him, ‘tsk’-ing at his impatience. Not until he’d have a taste of his own medicine.

You let your finger trail along his torso, tracing the outlines of his abdominals. Imitating your husband’s  earlier torturous ministrations, you take your time with him, reveling in how much you’ve affected him – how his breathing is getting more labored by the second. You run a finger along the length of his shaft still covered by his pants. He’s already hard, you reckon, feeling it slightly twitch under your touch.

Slowly, you lower down on your knees, tugging his pants down along with your descent. The sight of his cock makes you wet your lips, too eager to please. “My love, you don’t have to,” his hands hover yours that are resting on his hips. It’s not that he didn’t want your mouth on his cock but he just wanted to drawl out this evening for as long as he could. Frankly, he couldn’t afford to release in your mouth without having felt your velvety walls first.

“I want to.” Not wanting to wait any longer, you tentatively place a kiss on the bulbous head, making Seokjin gasp at the contact. You get bolder, gathering some of the precum that has gathered on the tip spreading it along his length your tongue. Using the armrests as leverage, you straighten your back and finally take him in your mouth. Seokjin deems he’ll never get used to this feeling. You vaguely hear him groan above you, but you’re far too busy pushing his shaft farther inside.

You briefly gaze at him through your eyelashes. It’s unfair, you reckon, that even when your lamps cast this golden glow to only one side of his face, he’s just as ethereal as under the light of day. You take him in your mouth as far as you can. When Seokjin throws his head back in pleasure with his wonderfully thick neck on display only for you to see, it ignites a carnal desire in you, so you push yourself further. When he finally hits the back of your throat, you swallow and your husband chokes on air, his knuckles turning white as he grips onto the armrests.

It’s an arduous task, having to try and take control of your breathing as you pleasure your husband. You move up then down slowly until you find a steady rhythm. You feel your eyes water with the pace until his chest starts heaving and you know he’s nearing his climax. “N-no. P-please,” your husband pleads, each word brokenly spoken. Tugging at your hair slightly, he pries you off his mouth, releasing a sigh of relief when you take your mouth off him.

“Bed now.” With your knees still sore from kneeling too long, it takes you some time to get up. Impatiently, the moment you get one of your knees off the ground he hooks his arm below them and lifts you off the ground, carrying you bridal style. “Stop trying to stall.” Seokjin huffs, his lips forming a pout. You giggle at his cuteness, of course even at a time like this, he manages to make you smile like a kid with candy.

He lays you gently on the bed, your hair fanning out on the pillows. He caresses your face with the pads of his fingers and you find yourself leaning against his touch. “My queen,” he sighs, “Your beauty is unrivaled. Truly.” Your lips meet when he closes the distance between the two of you. He stays like that for a moment, his swollen lips placed on top of yours until he swipes his tongue against your bottom lip. You fervently kiss each other, feeling yourself slowly getting lost in the kiss. When he pulls away, your eyes pry open again only to see your husband’s teary ones.

“Seokjin-ie, are you okay? What’s the matter?” He shakes his head, replying, “You’re just so beautiful. I’m the luckiest man alive to have you as my wife.” Your face crumples at his words and you give him another kiss. “How could you possibly think that when so many other women who vying for my position right now? Both literally and figuratively. You’re glad when you get a chuckle out of Seokjin. “As much as I want to argue about who’s the luckier one, I have a more pressing problem. And it’s getting really painful, so please…” His lips close in on one of your breasts, your hand flying up to pull at his hair.

Once again, you’re a moaning mess beneath Seokjin. You’re whining, begging for more than the assault he’s doing on your breasts. He doesn’t waste time in complying with your whims, your legs spreading apart when he shifts his position above you. He braces himself on one arm and you hiss as he swipes against your folds, taking some of the wetness on his palm and rubbing it onto his cock. When he pushes slowly against your entrance, you whimper as he gradually sinks into you. Gods, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to this, to him.

When he’s fully sank into you to the hilt, he pauses, knowing that you’ll need a moment for the pain to subside into pleasure. Seokjin places kisses your shoulders as he waits for you to adjust to the feeling. You push your hips up, encouraging him to move. Dragging his cock out slowly, he pushes back down just as languidly. “Jin, please,” you beseech, goading him to go faster. The moment the word escapes your lips, Seokjin begins pounding into you relentlessly. He hastily places a pillow under your hips to angle yours better. The next thrust he gets in has you mewling, each stroke easily rubbing up against your g-spot.

Your thighs begin quivering, every fiber of your body ablaze with each plunge of your husband’s hips. Seokjin feels your impending orgasm with your cunt beginning to pulsate against his cock, and he moves one of his hands between your thighs and starts to toy vigorously with your clit.

“Fuck!” you scream, fisting the sheets that now haphazardly dangling from the bed. Your high hits you so strong, your pussy tightening, clamping around Seokjin. His thrusts begin to stutter as you continue to milk his cock. With one final push, Seokjin cums, releasing ropes of cum inside you. He stays on top of you for a moment, too exhausted and worn out to move an inch. Also, because he wishes that this time it finally gets you pregnant, that your earlier inclination to the idea of having a baby inside you is as enthralling as it is to him.

Seokjin finally pulls out of you with a small grunt, elbows that have been holding up his weight finally give in, breathing heavily as he falls to your side.

He hadn’t meant to stay this long.

In fact, when he heard the first moan that fell from your lips, he had sent the rest of the guards to go on patrol to give you and your husband the much-needed privacy. He had intended to keep lookout from the front of the hanok. With one more corridor to clear out before leaving, he took his steps with caution, knowing that this passage was the one next to your room. The palace’s wooden walls will never be thick enough to hide the sounds of pleasure. His ears are already ringing with the faint sound of your moans but there was one section where the sweet sound was most audible. The door to your room was slightly open, the light from your lamps passing through the narrow slit.

He tries to push away the temptation, reminding himself that he has other duties to attend to… right?

Surely, the rebellious troops would have been subdued before they reach the palace…right?

Ultimately, he can’t leave with you sounding so desperate and broken…right?

He knew his resolve was breaking with every step he took nearer towards the thin beam of light.  He takes the final step with bated breath, wincing when the wood creaks under his weight. He lets out a shaky exhale when he finally peeks through the crevice. Your bed is situated right across from where he’s watching – the whole scene like a live show from a festival. He knows this is wrong, that what happens inside the four walls of your chambers is none of his business but when he sees the king flip you and take you from behind, his lips part, suddenly out of breath like he’s the one pounding into you.  

The voyeur continues to watch the whole spectacle with an unrelenting gaze. He watches the unsuspecting royals get lost in their own world while he lingers in perverse amusement. The strain in his silk pants is getting painful, uncomfortable too when the tip of his cock brushes against the wet patch on the cloth. He reproaches himself for his lack of manners tonight but if this mischief shall reward him with a release later on, then he shall remain here, unperturbed.

Moments later Seokjin’s hips stutter and he feels his own hands lose rhythm as well. Your loud moans fill the room as you reach your high, your husband following. His hand moves faster than before, white spurts of cum coating his hand not long after. He shivers when he pulls his pants back up, the silk proving to be too much for the sensitive tip of his cock. When his eyes revert back to the crevice, he sees Seokjin trace patterns on your back while the both of you murmur softly in each other’s arms. Your husband gives you a chaste kiss, lips closing in on the shell on your ear as he whispers something that makes you giggle. He takes this as his cue to leave, hoping that no other guard has lingered around long enough to see him leave the house.

Fortunately, no one sees the dazed captain walk out of the hanok in the middle of the night.

You are momentarily awakened from a fleeting kiss placed on your cheek, the back of your hands rubbing at your drooping eyelids. Body still sore from your activities last night, you blindly reach out for the blue cloak in front of you as you call out your husband’s name. “I hadn’t meant to wake you from your slumber, my love. Go back to sleep.” He strokes your hair gently while humming a soft melody to lull you back to your slumber.

There’s an ache on his chest when he watches sleep take over you once more, soft snores escaping your lips. Seokjin wonders if he would get to see you this peaceful one more time. You shift in your sleep, the blanket revealing purplish marks littered across your chest. Normally, this would’ve sent all his blood pumping south but with the emotion weighing on his shoulders, all he’s thinking about is engraving your beauty into his memory.

The present disposition in his hands had monopolized his time and because of this he knew he had been neglecting you these past few weeks. He wasn’t able to check up on you, ask how your day went, or even join supper, hence your intimacies last night.  Although your husband knew that after all these years together, you were never one to demand affection because you were well aware of his duties as ruler of a nation. Funnily enough, it was he who yearned for that most of time, while you would remind him of his obligations with a chortling intonation.

Usually, you would push him away when he tries to lavish you with kisses even with the guards and court ladies present, but he knew deep inside that you secretly enjoyed them, cheeks turning a rosy red every time he teases you about it. Albeit being born into royalty, you were treated like a slave by your own step-mother so Seokjin knew it would have taken some time before he had successfully lured you out of your shell. And he knew he had forever to show you the love that you were deprived of. Or did he now?

He recalls the time you had both met in your secret rendezvous. It was a garden exhibiting the most gorgeous fusion of pink and green, cultivated to perfection by Seokjin himself and of course with the help of a few chosen gardeners. Included in the garden was a narrow passage with water directly flowing from the Gaeun River. The secluded site was a testament to Seokjin’s love for the color pink. Flowers of all shades of blush are scattered among the lush green grass, from Azaleas to Carnations to Peonies. ‘Most are from foreign lands’ he informs, carefully plucking out a flower and handing one to you. A blush instantly colors your cheeks at this and Seokjin finds it most endearing, unable to resist teasing you. “You seem to blend in just fine with my flowers,” he observes, poking your cheeks, “but you stand out the most.”

Amongst the rosy hued shrubs and mossy rocks, on a small slope stood a singular cherry blossom tree - your most favorite feature of all. Cherry blossoms had always been known to symbolize the transience of life and rebirth. True to your ancestors’ beliefs, this special tree was tangible proof of the metaphor. The tree had witnessed quite a number of your most cherished moments in life. This was where Seokjin brought you when you broke down into tears after escaping the southern palace, this was where he first pecked you on the cheek, and this same tree witnessed Seokjin’s humble request for your hand in marriage.

Regret weighs heavily on him. You were the only constant reality he had in this capricious life. You had been nothing but perfect, always by his side no matter what. Having to bid his farewell like this broke his heart but if he properly did so, it would probably break his heart all the more. Your husband had already made up his mind – he is to leave for the South before the dawn breaks.

Seokjin was hanging onto that small sliver of hope that a discussion on the dilemma may change their minds. The situation in the southern city had inevitably worsened but he had to try. He could be very persuasive if he wanted to, sure, but you always knew it wouldn’t work. Not by a long shot. You made sure to remind him of that fact. That’s why you never supported the idea of visiting the city especially at a time of agitation like this. The southerners are men honed by war and they are not called the nation’s keepers for nothing. They are willing to sacrifice lives rather than heed diplomacy. It had proved beneficial in the past when foreigners wanted to colonize your country, but with a turmoil conceived by its own countrymen, these people are all the more fueled to fight for what they believe in.

Then again, this was his decision. He had to try. He was willing to risk everything for his nation, even if it meant that this might be the last time he’ll be seeing your face. He wanted to be selfish, just this once, to give in to the matters of the heart, but he knew he couldn’t. If he did, then all his parent’s teachings would have been for nothing. Being born into royalty couldn’t have meant anything. Being the king then would lose its meaning.

With tears brimming at the corner of his eyes, he retrieves a scroll, his brush, and an ink block. ‘This all seems unreal’, Seokjin reels. He only takes out the three when he’s making a new proclamation or with pronouncements usually related to the duties of a king. You two could only stay apart for so long and at the end of the day you’d always find yourselves each other’s arms. Not once did he imagine having to write you a letter, let alone one bidding you farewell.

Patches of tears soften different spots on the previously coarse scroll. With dawn fast approaching, Seokjin ends his letter with a lingering kiss on the paper. He retrieves a flower that he’s plucked from the garden and places it together with the scroll he’s left on the bedside table. Seokjin kisses you on the cheek one last time, “Goodbye, my queen.”

© joontier 2020. All rights reserved. 

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Can you imagine Chris with a fever? Trying to tell jake he doesn’t feel well, he wants to be held, but the high fever only makes it harder to talk? Everyone in the safe house crowded around, desperate to cool him down bc they can go to a hospital?

CW: Feverish, sickness, mentions of symptoms of sickness + references to past noncon/dubcon, plus fucky thought processes around that. Vague references to past torture.

Timeline: Chris’s first week at the shelter.

Tagging:  @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @stxckfxck , @slaintetowhump

His bones hurt, but he keeps that to himself. It's just bones, after all, and he's had way more of him hurt much worse than this.

At least, it starts with bones, just in his upper arms and in his thighs, and he thinks maybe it’s because he is always tense in this strange new place. The house seems small compared to Sir’s mansion but he is allowed to move around all of it, not just one hallway of rooms. 

This makes him nervous but he does, anyway, padding silent and still as a mouse around the hallways and down the stairs at night, searching for signs that this will be a life he understands. 

He finds none. 

There is no basement, or if there is, they don’t show him. He doesn’t know what happened, exactly - there was a night where Sir had a party, and then he was put in a car and then another car and then there was this new place, these new people.

No, at first it’s really just his thighs, an ache buried so deep under the skin that no amount of rubbing against it seems to work it out. After that, his arms start to hurt, and then down his calves, and finally it settles in at his hips like two hands are gripped on tight. The ache is familiar, a memory of a life he doesn’t have to live any longer.

They tell him he doesn’t, anyway.

They tell him he doesn’t have to do that, here, but there are two men and three women and he thinks maybe eventually he will have to be good. He’s not trained for women but it can’t be that different, can it? He tries not to think about it very much, and hopes if he just stays quiet, and still, and holds his hands in little stone fists at his sides that no one will notice him.

If they don’t notice him, they won’t ask, and he won’t have to, even though he kind of wants to, but also he doesn’t, and he can’t remember if he ever really did or if it was always a voice inside him that someone put there on purpose to make him like this.

He wants to be held but he is scared of what it means, because it’s never just holding. It always means having to be good. Maybe not right away, but always, sooner or later. 

Does he actually want to be held? Or did they do that to him, with all the time he spent alone, praying someone would open the door to the white room? 

He wants someone to hold him while he feels like this, but… his bones hurt too much for what happens after the holding, and he feels so cold, like being back in the white rooms that have all blurred together. 

Once all the other hurts are joined by a strange, pounding headache that won’t lift, a weight like his brain is solidifying inside his skull, the boy takes a big soft blanket right off the bed of the larger man who lives here and finds a place to hide. 

They're all downstairs, the other people here. 

There’s a storage room at the end of the hallway where all the bedrooms are, and the door isn’t locked - at Sir’s all the doors are locked except the rooms he’s allowed in, so that must mean he’s allowed in here.

He’s having trouble walking, there’s a dizzy lilt to his footsteps and he seems to keep bumping into the wall even though he thought he was walking straight. He trips on the blanket as it trails the floor, over and over again. Somehow it never occurs to him to pick the blanket up.

The door looks wrong, for reasons he can't explain. The boy gets briefly lost in the swirl of the woodgrain, staring at what looks like another set of wood-eyes, frozen in surprise, staring right back. 

He has to blink again and again and again to get the wood-eyes to fade away. 

They are laughing at something downstairs and the sound makes the boy nervous - Sir laughing usually meant things Sir thought were good, and the boy had to be good but he never thought they were good. He has to hide, or they'll see his wobbly legs and play games with him.

Sir likes games, when the boy is tired or sick from the pills or sad. The boy doesn't want to play games, here. They have said they won't hurt him but games don't always hurt the outside. 

He gets the doorknob to turn after three tries, slips into the little storage room, and sees the perfect hiding spot.

There’s a huge wooden desk shoved up against one wall, stacked high with what looks like photo albums, folders stuffed until they’re bursting, loose stacks of paper, brochures and flyers, plus old books and all kinds of things. 

On top of one stack of flyers, there an ancient stuffed puppydog, with floppy arms and legs and floppy ears and a strange bronze yellow no-color fur, threadbare in patches where someone loved it, once. The boy could almost see the way a child must have petted along the back, wearing it to nothing bit by bit, day by day. 

Something about the sight of it makes the boy's throat want to tighten and close. He doesn't know what or why - he's never had a stuffed animal, all he remembers is the white walls and the cold and then the warmth of Sir burning him alive.

He takes a sudden breath, shivering as cold snaps through his body, his muscles contracting like aftershocks from training, chills that roll through him, bounce around inside his skin.

The desk is like Sir's and not like that at all. He doesn't want the desk - he wants the hollow spot in the center under it. It feels safe and familiar, sliding to his knees under a wooden desk, Position Two, effortless as breathing. Tip his head up, chin at rest on Sir's knee, waiting. Making his thoughts stutter-skip to a stop until all his mind is a vast and empty place he never looks too far into. 

He is not empty, now.

The boy does not feel empty at all. Instead he feels too much. He feels the strangely rough carpet under his knees, hard floor through the soft fabric of the pants they gave him to wear. He thinks of the stuffed puppy alone in the room - is he lonely in here? nobody to rub his fur all to gone any longer-

"'Real isn't how you are made,' said the Skin Horse." The voice in his mind is soothing and soft. It is a woman's voice but he doesn't know who it belongs to. He knows there was a book, can almost feel the texture of the cover, slippery-smooth, the shine as it caught the dim, yellowed light. He can feel the warmth of a soft arm around him, a hand ruffling into his hair as chubby fingers tap on his own legs, feet swinging off the side of a tiny toddler bed. "'It's a thing that happens to you.'"

His headache gets worse all at once, a thunderclap of pain, and the boy whimpers and pushes himself until his back is against the other side of the desk, curling knees to his chest with the blanket wrapped around himself. 

The chills roll through, his fingers shaking too hard to do anything but hold onto himself and hope it will stop. Teeth chatter, clattering together like someone is playing dice inside his mouth, and his tongue feels like leaden weight in there, too large for the space. 

Under the desk it is dark, no light in the room but a clouded sense of sunlight finding its way through off-white blinds, covered in dust, cutting stripes of yellow over the opposite wall.

The boy sees tiny dust particles in the air, floating. Dancing. His eyes follow them, and he almost smiles. Sir used to leave him alone for hours and hours locked in the room or the basement with nothing, but there was no such thing as nothing when your brain could follow specks of dust…

He feels no warmer, even as he sits under the blanket. The cold is too deep in him, settling into his bones alongside the pain, which has sharpened, gone from dull sawing to a sharpened blade. He whimpers, curling up even tighter.

Even now, he has hurt worse than this, and for worse reasons. He knows how to stay still, has learned to keep his palms pressed flat against his stomach to stop himself from tapping, to let the lead weights roll around inside his head to keep himself from hitting it on anything to calm down. Silence is better than screaming.

He learned his lesson. Sir may have given him up, but the boy has not forgotten. 

Footsteps move in the hallway, and the boy does not look - does not try to peek out the door and see. Now that he has curled up so tightly, he's not sure he could uncurl. His legs feel locked tightly, every muscle tensed around his hurting bones. 

Where is he? The woman's voice, the older one. The one he thought must be the owner of this household and all its pets. He's not in his room.

He is not in the bathroom, a male voice says, the slightest, barest hint of an accent to it. 

I hope he didn't run away. A girl voice. The boy shivers. 

He's not Kauri, a second girl voice says. He won't just run without saying anything. He's scared, he probably found a crawlspace or something.

A crawlspace, the first girl repeats, a little plaintively. She repeats things a lot, the boy has noticed. 

We should keep looking. The man, the one he thinks must be the Sir. But he doesn't act like one. 

The boy tucks himself back into the corner of the spot under the desk, closing his eyes as they just don't want to be open any longer. 

He wants his Sir, suddenly, so badly it burns under all the chill, like holding a piece of ice to your skin so long that the cells forget they feel cold. Sir would hold him tightly, would wrap him up or give him lukewarm baths or just hold him, in his lap, whispering things into his ear. Reading aloud the news reports, the new poll numbers. Speaking with his friend Mr. Alexander who is like me, in a lot of ways that go beyond just our career aspirations, darlin'. 

Sir would make him feel better, even if it felt awful all the same. 

A different awful. He would trade that awful, now, if he could. At least Sir's did not live so far under his skin, was only in those first few layers he could scrub away if he stayed in the shower long enough. This kind wouldn’t come out, only burrowed deeper and deeper.

He falls asleep - or into something like sleep, anyway - there under the desk, like he has on many afternoons, lulled to boredom by long days where he isn’t allowed to move or feel or think. It’s not the same desk and there is no one to nudge him awake with a perfectly shining leather shoe. 

The boy dreams uneasy dreams of vast bedrooms swathed in navy silk and uncertain worn-out fabric creatures with threadbare patches are peeking from behind the drapes, beckoning to him to come closer and hear what they have to say. Only he can’t move, because the sheets are wrapped too tightly around his wrists. They hold him to the bed or the wall, he can’t think of where he is, lying down and standing up all at once. He has to hear what they want to tell him.

He’s too far away, and they are whispering.

Real isn’t how you are made, said the Skin Horse. It’s a thing that happens to you.

Wake up. Wake up. Wake up-

“Hey.” There’s a hand on his shoulder and the boy jerks awake with a gasp, flinching back so hard his head smacks back into the back of the desk. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t, uh, you were talking and I thought maybe you were already up. Hey, are you okay?”

The boy stares, wide-eyed, at the man he thinks is the Sir of this house. He’s younger, but the others except for the older woman all do what he asks them to do. He has blond hair and blue eyes and he’s so tall the boy has to crane and crane his head to look up at him sometimes. He swallows, as he shivers all over again. “My… bones… hurt.” 

His voice is slow, evenly paced, a little hoarse. He sounds like he’s been screaming, but he hasn’t. When he swallows, his throat hurts, like swallowing glass. He winces and puts a had up to feel at the outside. His throat feels odd on either side, just under his jaw. Sort of lumpy.

“Your bones hurt? What the fuck-... hey, come out so I can see you a little better, okay? Come on, man.” The man grips onto his hands, and the man’s fingers are big and warm and the boy moves almost helplessly towards the solidity and warmth that those hands represent. 

His mind is a woozy swirl of trains, careening back and forth, his eyes drifting over dancing bits of dust and the piles of papers everywhere and old broken computer chairs, that one’s padded, should have slept there, he hears a robin call outside and fights the urge to purse his lips and whistle back. 

When he is out into the dim light in the room, the man’s eyes trail over his face. The boy feels the weight of the look, and thinks he might blush, but his face felt hot before, too, even though the rest of his body feels like it’s carved from blocks of very pretty ice.

He’s much nicer-looking than Sir is, the man. Younger, too, and something about him doesn’t seem uncomfortable and strange, but instead open and genuine. The boy can almost read him, and he never knew what Sir was thinking. But in the look on the man’s face, he thinks he can read a simple concern.

“You look like shit,” The man says - he said his name was Jake, right? - and reaches out to touch the boy’s face. “Oooh, you feel like shit, too. Clammy as hell.”

Is he clammy? The boy hasn’t noticed. He feels too cold for sweat, everywhere but his forehead, his cheeks, his lips. 

The man’s fingers prod just under his jaw, and the boy winces and whimpers when he hits the swollen little circles that seem to have stuck up from his skin there.

“Yep. Your lymph nodes are all fucked up. One more thing, okay? Just here. Right here, and nowhere else.” The man slowly lays a cool hand to his forehead. The boy’s eyes flutter closed at the simple, comforting, soothing touch.

I could be good for him. The thought is brief, there and then gone, carried further down the track with other thoughts he tries not to linger on. 

“Well, I have a diagnosis,” Jake says, sitting back on his heels. “You’re sick as fuck. Come on, we need to get you into an actual bed. And I need to tell Nat you didn’t wander off, she’s losing her shit downstairs about it. Were you scared?” His voice dips down into something soft. It’s a voice the boy wants to fall into. It’s kind of like the voice that belonged to the warm arm around him, in his dreams.

The boy shakes his head. You’re not supposed to admit you’re scared unless they want you to, and he doesn’t think this man wants him to.

He lets the man pull him to his feet. Jake notices the boy’s hands pressed still against his stomach and asks if he needs to throw up, but he shakes his head - he doesn’t, he just doesn’t want to get in trouble. When he can’t keep his hands still, he is punished. 

“Then why were you in here?”

The boy doesn’t speak. He can feel his tongue in his mouth, every one of his teeth. He might speak too quickly, stumble over himself. Silence is better than stammering. He only shrugs, a movement of thin shoulders under the heavy, soft blanket he wears. 

“Okay, fair enough. Come on, let’s get you laid down and get some Tylenol in you.”

He doesn’t remember what Tylenol is, and lets himself be led, shivering and chattering teeth, laid down in the little bed in the room where the other Box Boy sleeps. There is a framed drawing of a bird above the bed he sleeps in, and he looks up at it, feeling dazed by all the colors that want to bleed right out and down the wall and maybe he could get some color in his skin if he catches the paint…

The man is gone, for a few minutes. There are talking-sounds downstairs but the boy can’t understand them. Too muffled or too loud or too something. He gets lost in the bird.

“Here we go.” Jake reappears and gives him a cup of water as he pushes himself up to his elbow and he drinks it obediently, sipping. It’s cool and clean-tasting on his tongue. Then Jake holds out a little cup with a purple liquid in it and the boy stares down, then back up at him. “It’s… not Tylenol. Nat said her contact told her you were drugged, so I figured… maybe no pills?”

The boy shakes, all at once, a full-body shudder that wracks his tensed-up muscles and makes them burn around his bones. He bends himself nearly in half, shaking his head, again and again. “No… no pill, please,” He whispers, barely able to form the words. “Please, please, please-please no, no, no no no no-”

“It’s okay,” Jake says quickly. “No pill. So this is, um, this is like a liquid fever reducer. We keep it for the rescues who can’t… can’t swallow pills. Okay? Just drink it down and you’ll feel better, I promise.”

It could be just like the pills. The boy hesitates, looking up into the man’s eyes. Something in them seems like he can be trusted to tell the truth, and after a long hesitation, the boy takes the tiny plastic cup from his hands and drinks the sticky fake-grape taste down, wrinkling his nose. It clings to his teeth and his tongue, and he washes it away with more water from the glass. 

“Perfect. I had to guess on dosage, but that should be okay… Will you stay in the room, if I go?” The question is there, underneath the words - the boy can read them just fine. Are you going to hide under the desk again?

“I don’t… want to… be alone.” He has to carefully space words. He has to be good, that way. He didn’t understand yet what everyone here wanted. 

“Is that how you really feel, or what you’re saying because you think it’s what I want?” The man asks, his voice still soft, and gentle. “You won’t be in trouble no matter what you say.”

The boy doesn’t know how to answer this - no one ever asks him his wants. What he wants isn’t important, it’s not relevant. He grips the blanket in his fingers and twists the fabric, quilted and so soft it feels like it will float away from him. He stares down into his lap and says nothing, only shaking his head, not quite a yes and not quite a no.

“I’m… very cold,” He offers, finally, in a small voice, when the man doesn’t say anything right away. “And my… bones hurt.”

“Right, you said, your bones-... must be something to do with the fever, maybe? Something… look, lay down and I’ll get you all covered up, there are some more blankets in that storage room you were hiding in. I’m surprised you didn’t just make a nest.”

The boy hadn’t noticed the other blankets then. If he had… he might have. He lets himself be laid on his back, looking up, watching the dust spin and move and dance, as the man leaves the room once more. He hears footsteps in the hall, lighter ones, and looks to catch a glimpse of a swinging ponytail and a heavy sweatshirt and sweatpants. The girl doesn’t look at him. She goes into her own room and shuts the door.

Jake comes back with a heap of folded blankets. “You’ll shove these off once your fever breaks, but they might make you feel a little better while we wait. Oh, and I saw this in there!”

He holds up the stuffed puppy, with beady black eyes barely hanging on from old thread, the little bare patches on the rump part, where somebody petted off all its fur.

His throat closes again. He doesn’t know why looking at the dog makes him feel that way.

“Thank… you,” He says, and holds out his hands like a child, and the man drops the puppy into his arms. The boy makes a sound and rolls onto his side, letting the man cover him in blankets, tuck them in around him, with the puppy’s head tucked securely under his chin.

He feels… better.

“There you go,” Jake says, running a hand across his forehead, pushing some hair away from his eyes. “There you go. That’s better. I’ll leave you to get some sleep. Pretty sure you haven’t slept since you got here, huh? You should think about what name you want, while you sleep.”

“Sir chooses my, my, my name,” The boy says, already starting to drift, forgetting to space out his words, his thoughts. They start to run again on their natural tracks, splitting into a thousand different focuses at once. He thinks about the birds outside and the ones in his wall and the feel of the stuffed animal in his arms, surprisingly solid for its age, heavier than he thought it’d be. He thinks about his dream and how to keep waking up.

“Not here, he doesn’t,” The man says, voice firm, almost commanding. “Your name’s all you, man. Just tell us when you decide, okay?”

“Okay,” The boy whispers, and thinks about a warm arm around him, a woman’s low voice reading him a story with a deliberate, spaced-out rhythm. 

In the great green room there was a telephone and a red balloon and a picture of the cow jumping over the moon

Maybe they read him a story in training. He can’t remember. But he thinks he was too small for that. Someone else, maybe, once.

He winces as his head starts to ache and chases the thought away, sends it rolling down its track to where all the other thoughts stay that make him hurt. 

“I’ll come back to check on you in a few. Just… stay in the bed and get some rest.”

“Okay,” he says again, and his eyes have gone too heavy to open, his grip iron-tight on the stuffed puppy in his arms. He’s too old for stuffed animals - I’m eighteen, all pets are of legal consenting age - but he feels good holding it, anyway.

“Once you are real you can't become unreal again. It lasts for always.” Do you know what that means, T-

“Chris,” He says, without opening his eyes. He hears Jake stop in the doorway, turn to look at him. “I like Chris.”

“Chris it is, then,” Jake replies, sounding pleased. “That’s a good one. I’ll tell Nat. Get some sleep and feel better, Chris. That’s a solid name. I like that name on you.”

Chris waits until he hears the door close, and the sound of the man’s footsteps on the stairs, before he smiles.

I like that name on you.

He likes it, too.

Chris feels like a person. Chris feels real.

The boy falls asleep in the bed in a new place and with new people and for the first time since he got here, he falls asleep without feeling scared of what he’ll see behind his closed eyes. Baldur is scared, and the number boy was scared, but Chris, he decides, is going to live in a totally different way. 

Chris is going to be real, and not be scared of anything. 

Just as soon as he isn’t sick.

[irrelevantwriter]

Acts of Service

Pairing: Negan x Female Reader/You

Rating: Explicit, NSFW

Warnings: Language, Daddy kink, mentions of bodily fluids, oral sex (female and male receiving), titty fucking (is there a nicer term?), vaginal fingering, Negan and his big dick energy

Word Count: 4K

Summary: Part 2. We continue on our quest through all that foreplay has to offer with some enthusiastic acts of service.

A/N: Soooooooo, I felt like adding another part to The Art of Foreplay. If you haven’t read it, you definitely don’t have to but also you should could. I’m really into the idea of exploring foreplay with Negan and a wife who’s insistent on not sleeping with him. It’s kinda refreshing to not write the actual act of sex and I’m having a lot of fun thinking of all the ways I can expand on this. I hope you guys are down with it and like it. If so, maybe I’ll add more parts in the future. And I definitely have to give a shout out and thank you to @negans-lucille-tblr​ bc without her foreplay challenge, this idea would not exist so thanks girl! Feedback is that good shit. Enjoy and share with your friends!

A/N dos: Also, latex/patent lingerie is a thing. I got some interesting results when I googled it. Lots of latex suits lol. 

*Check out part one: The Art of Foreplay 

*Check out part three: Pillow Talk

*Foreplay series masterlist

*Masterlist in bio.

**********************

“You rang?”

You announced yourself as you entered Negan’s quarters without knocking. He was expecting you, though his summons had come nearly an hour earlier. You knew he’d be displeased with your tardiness, but you had good reason…at least you thought you did.

“Fucking finally…”

Your eyes found him seated on his couch, his body the picture of relaxation. He was holding a glass tumbler filled with an amber liquid, his long arms stretched along the back of the couch. His leather jacket was discarded near him, the stretch of his white t-shirt showcasing the broadness of his chest and shoulders. His hair was slicked back, his tongue licking his lips as he eyed you. There was a mix of disapproval and lust reflecting in the orbs, the intensity of it making you shiver.

He looked dangerous. He looked like all the things your parents had warned you about. He was a fire burning out of control. A tornado destroying everything in its wake. A tsunami flattening the earth. He was a natural disaster. A whirlwind of disorder and menace.

And you were jumping headfirst into the chaos.

“What the fuck took you so long?” He asked with an obvious annoyed tone. His eyes traced your form as you stepped closer, the appreciation of your feminine form still present despite his irritation. The black dress your wore accentuated your curves, inviting him to visually consume you. He didn’t disappoint.

“I was getting ready for you, my dear husband.” You responded with a coquettish smile, coming to a halt between his widely spread thighs. You fluttered your made-up eyes down at him, licked at your painted lips as his expression started to soften. A grin began to split his lips, the whites of his teeth a stark contrast to the golden shade of his skin.

Negan chuckled, bringing the glass still clasped in his hand to his lips. You watched as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion. His gaze never wavered from you, watching you watching him. It made you feel exposed.

“Finally gonna let me fuck that pussy out of commission?” He taunted, the roughness of his voice settling like hot lava between your thighs.

“Not yet.” You replied with a shake of your head, your feet unconsciously shifting you closer to his body.

He caught the movement, a smirk breaking out onto his face. He leant forward slightly as his free hand glided up your exposed leg and thigh, stopping at the hem of your dress. His fingers gripped the flesh, edging upwards under the fabric. His touch felt like an electric shock, his hand instantly searing your skin. You didn’t know how much longer you’d be able to deny him. The temptation of giving yourself completely to such a man no longer felt reckless. Instead, it felt instinctual; as if your need for him was now embedded into your DNA.

“But,” You started, voice regaining its composure as he continued to trail his fingers under your dress. “I do have a surprise for you.”

His eyes danced with amusement, his devilish tongue sliding along his lips. “I do love surprises.”

You turned your back to him, forcing his hand to separate from your thigh. You glanced at him from over your shoulder, gesturing to the long silver zipper that held the fabric of your dress together.

“Help me out?”

“Fucking gladly, doll.” He said with all the boyish glee of a kid on Christmas morning. He shifted forward and began to release the metal teeth, revealing your back and the undergarments you wore.

Once he was done, you turned back around to face him, the dress now dangling precariously off your body. You pulled your arms out of the sleeves, maintaining eye contact with Negan as you did. You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip as the material caught on your hips before you shimmied and let the fabric fall in a heap at your feet. You kicked it away, your arms slightly outstretched to keep your balance on the heels you wore.

“Well fuck me gently with a chainsaw…” Negan rasped, his body once again sunken into the cushions of the couch. The position allowed him to take you in all at once, to admire his gift in all its glory.

You forced yourself to stay still as his eyes burned over every inch of your body, the rapid breaths of his chest giving him away. You were half-naked, your breasts encased by a black latex bralette while your lower half was barely concealed by a matching pair of latex panties. The set was one you’d found hidden among the scraps of lace and silk Negan had brought back for the wives. The glint of the shiny fabric had immediately caught your eye and you’d snatched it before anyone could notice. The outfit obviously belonged amongst a selection of whips and chains, the insinuation clear. You weren’t necessarily looking to dominate your husband, but you were interested in being different…special. You wanted to stand out from the others. You wanted to capture Negan’s attention and hold it. And so far you’d been successful.

“What do you think?” You purred, aware that the question wasn’t needed. The shift in Negan’s hips was the answer.

He licked his lips again, rubbing at the shadowing of hair that covered his jaw. The strands were peppered with hints of grey, matching the hair at his temples. It was one of your favorite features. He wore the proof of age well, the fines lines and grey hairs a testament to the life he’d lived. And with that came experience. Experience that he loved to showcase for you.

“My dick is hard enough to crack skulls.”

His words made your body tingle, your heartbeat now centered within your throbbing pussy. Negan had that ability. He could get you to the very edge with just his words. Any filthy thing that crossed his mind, he said it. It was refreshing and overwhelmingly effective.

“I thought you might like it.” You said as you let your hands cradle your heaving breasts. They were pushed high up on your chest by the restricting latex, creating the best cleavage you’d ever had. Predictably, Negan’s hungry gaze followed.

“The shit looks painted on your fucking body. How the fuck you get that shit on?” He asked in awe, his hand reaching out to run along the smooth fabric that shielded your pussy.

You jerked at the feeling of his fingers barely grazing your lips. Even though the sensation was muted by the material between you, it still carried the weight of desire.

“Took forever. Hence my late arrival.” You whispered as he continued to dance his fingers along your body, the calloused digits forcing goosebumps to rise on your flesh. You gripped his shoulders as he straightened, his glass now abandoned on the couch cushion next to him. His mouth hovered over your stomach, his hot breaths panting in an erratic pattern. You could feel the ghosting of his lips as they painted your skin with kisses, his hands freely roaming your ass.

“You are one good fucking girl, aren’t you baby?” He questioned against your stomach, eyes centered up and on you.

Your thighs twitched and clasped together, effectively cutting off his wandering touch. Your nipples pebbled against the bralette, your back arching imperceptibly towards the air. Your walls flooded at his praise, overcome with his approval of you. It was enough to make you pull away and shove gently at his chest.

“There’s more…” You said with a mischievous smile, your hand forcing him to lean back against the sofa. He went willingly, too intrigued by your words to fight you for control. You sank to your knees and you swore his smile grew ten times wider. His thighs parted to make room for you as you took every opportunity to rub your body against him.

“Fucking hell...You are a fucking vision on your knees for me.” He admired, a wayward hand rubbing at his now very hard cock through his pants.

You said nothing in response, but you felt it. Watching him palm himself made a whimper leave your lips, your chest inching closer to his crotch to seek out any form of friction you could get. He noticed your actions and laughed, his hand continuing to ease the ache of his cock.

“Those titties need me, doll?”

You nodded, unable to form words.

“Pull me out.” He instructed, his hand finally leaving his body to allow you to take over. You shifted forward, hands instantly going to his belt. You undid the button on his dark trousers, pulling the material down his hips with his underwear. You moved the clothing just enough so that his swollen cock was free. His flesh was warm and solid in your hands, the sight inducing a Pavlovian response within you. Your mouth salivated, your pussy thrummed as you bent forward and licked him from base to tip. A low groan filled the room as you did, the sound only fueling your lust.

You allowed your mouth to fill with saliva and suctioned the head of his cock lightly, coating him for your consumption. You let your mouth do most of the work for now, your hand holding him steady. You attacked his flesh like a rapid melting popsicle on a hot summer day. You were determined to savor every drop of him.

“Spit.” He commanded suddenly. You met his eyes as you conjured up enough liquid and did as he said, covering him. “Fuck.” He cursed, fingers dancing along your scalp. You could feel his restraint as he struggled not to choke you down onto him, letting you set your pace.

With the added lubrication, you were able to move easier and you used it to your advantage. Your mouth moved along his length, allowing him to hit the back of your throat and sit there. Mumbled curses and growls spurred you on as your hand began working in tandem with your mouth. You threw all caution to the wind, uncaring of how disheveled you might look with saliva coating your chin and mascara running down your cheeks. Your only concern was getting your husband off.

You remained unmoving as Negan’s hips began to thrust. He was gentle at first, barely moving, but now he assaulted your throat with a vengeance, his hand no longer practicing self-control. He kept you locked to him, your nose brushing against the hair that trailed from just below his navel. Tears erupted from your eyes as you struggled to breathe, but you didn’t pull away. You let him fuck your throat, let him desecrate your mouth in the way you knew he wanted to do to your pussy. The thought sent a new wave of arousal that settled in your panties.

“Goddamn, doll…” He groaned as he finally released your head and allowed you to take in air.

You swallowed away the spittle and sting of pain he’d left in his wake, though a line of saliva still kept you momentarily connected to him. You took in his spit soaked cock, the head an angry shade of red. The tip was dotted with a clear liquid, the saltiness lingering on your tongue. His hand was back to stroking himself, the flesh sliding easily against each other.

“You almost made me fucking cum.” He exclaimed with heavy breaths as he squeezed the base of his cock, his pupils blown out and masking his colorful irises.

You wiped at your chin and moved your hips against nothing, your desperation magnifying. You wanted so badly to cum, the persistent throbbing of your pussy a constant reminder. But you were far from done with Negan.

You wordlessly grasped his cock, shooing his own hand away. He watched in rapt fascination as you pulled the lower edge of the latex covering your breasts away from your body. With your free hand you slipped Negan’s cock easily beneath the hem and sheathed him right between your breasts. He was trapped between your flesh and the constricting fabric, but he obviously was in no hurry to remove himself.

“You gonna let me fuck those titties, baby?”

His voice was low and wanting, his excitement palpable. You met his gaze and nodded as you began to move your upper body. The extra lubrication aided your movements as you pushed your breasts together, squeezing his cock in a way that had him throwing his head back.

“Shit, that feels fucking amazing.” He groaned, his abdomen tensing with each stroke.

You moved slowly at first, finding a steady rhythm. His hips moved with you, sliding his cock between your breasts like he was sliding between your legs. You watched him, mesmerized by the way his pleasure held him prisoner. A man as powerful as Negan was rarely seen as vulnerable, yet you had the benefit of seeing him so undone, and it did more for you than you’d ever thought possible.

“Cum for me, Daddy…” You softly demanded. His wild eyes met yours and you took advantage, spitting on his cock again. You felt him twitch against your chest, the action having the desired effect.

“Fucking fuck. Can I cum on your titties?” He asked, the exertion clear in his voice.

“You can cum anywhere you want.” You said, a tender lilt coating your words. Your body never broke stride, continuing to take his cock while your hands held your breasts together. Precum was leaking from his tip, lubricating your movements as you increased your pace.

“Show me those gorgeous tits, baby…lemme see ‘em.” Negan grunted, the veins in his neck bulging with effort.  

You obeyed, pulling your arms from the straps and pushing the materiel down your torso so that it no longer wrapped around your breasts. You removed him from beneath the band of the bra, his flesh now freely bouncing over yours. You took a minute to tease him, letting the head of his cock rub sensuously at your nipples. Your body hummed with satisfaction at the way his jaw clenched and his knuckles gripped at the sofa beneath him. He was breathing through his nose, the rhythm almost sounding angry if not for the simple fact that his cock was wedged between your tits.

He was getting close. You could feel him tense, practically hear his teeth cracking with how hard he was biting down. You sped up your movements, your breasts bouncing against his cock in tight strokes. You played with your nipples as he stared down at you, danger of a different kind completely clouding his gaze.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum…”

You doubled your efforts and was immediately rewarded for it. Warm ropes of cum coated your chest and neck, the liquid landing with a heaviness that made your pussy clamp around itself. Negan grunted and groaned above you, head thrown back and hips stuttering as he released. You continued to move, milking him for all he was worth. His cock spasmed as his body tensed with orgasmic relief. His skin turned flush as a fine sheen of sweat broke out onto the surface. You slowed your touch when he hissed against the oversensitivity, his cock now going soft.

“Jesus fucking Christ, doll. Were you trying to fuck the life outta me?” He joked, his words interrupted by heavy panting.

You flashed a self-satisfied smirk while gently stroking his now flaccid cock. You felt his cum trailing down your chest in thick rivulets. You were still unsatisfied and brimming with need. Urged on by Negan’s heavy-lidded gaze, you grasped your breasts in your hands, rubbing his cum into your skin. He grunted in approval, the edge of his tongue peeking from the confines of his mouth.

“You need Daddy, don’t you baby?”

His voice washed over you like molasses, the sensual roughness of it only adding to the blaze burning inside of you. A strand of hair broke free from the rest as it rested against his forehead. That predatory stare was back in his eyes as he regarded your yearning for him. You moaned in response, a call to your lover.

He answered.

“Stand up.”

You climbed onto shaky feet, using his legs as support. You waited and watched as he slipped himself back into his pants, leaving the buttons undone. He scooted to the edge of the couch, his face now even with the place that ached the most. His hands wasted no time as they gripped the edge of your panties and pulled. The material made it difficult to do so, but Negan’s strength was no match for yours and he was able to relieve you of the latex far quicker than you’d been able to dress in them. You went to step out of your heels, but he gave a firm shake of his head, silently expressing not to.

“On the bed. Face down and pussy skyward.” He ordered gruffly, gesturing to the majestic piece of furniture he referred to as his bed. The mattress was settled high onto a wooden frame, grey and black sheets covering the soft pillow beneath.

You did as he said, crawling onto the bed and arching your back so that your face was pressed against the Egyptian cotton sheets. The mess on your chest transferred to the fabric beneath you and you delighted in the small fact that you were staining his pristine bed. You listened closely, knowing better than to look over your shoulder. His footsteps were muted against the rug, but you could feel his presence at your back. You were perched near the edge of the bed, easily accessible for what you knew was about to come next.

“This pussy really needs a Daddy’s touch, baby…” He breathed against your soaked sex, his fingers tracing the outer edges of your lips. “You sure you don’t want my cock instead?”

You angled your hips closer to him, begging for a reprieve after being so good to him. You were just about to plead for mercy when his tongue assaulted your pussy with one long swipe. You tried not to flinch away from the onslaught of pleasure, clutching the bedding beneath you with a grip that mirrored Negan’s only moments before.

“Shit,” You moaned as his hands gripped your ass, positioning you perfectly on his waiting mouth. He spread you so that you were on display and accessible, his hot breath tickling your thighs.

“You didn’t answer my question, doll.”

You struggled to remember what he’d asked, his tongue slowly torturing you by tracing your swollen lips but never penetrating beyond that point. You whimpered, trying to shift yourself closer to his warmth.

“Please, Negan…” You unabashedly begged, ready to be put out of your misery.

“Wrong.”

A fierce slap reverberated from your pussy, forcing a yelp from your parted lips. You jerked away but heavy hands kept you in place.

“Daddy!” You amended, hoping he was in a forgiving mood.

A gentle touch rubbed at your opening, easing the sting that had settled between your thighs. The strike had hurt more so than usual because of the moisture that coated your flesh. Your tensed muscles eased some as he lazily teased your clit, a long finger barely entering you.

“That’s better. Relax for Daddy and lemme take care of you.” He soothed.

You submitted and eased the hold your fists had on the blankets. You felt him drag you closer, opening you up for his attack. You waited with baited breath until his tongue pierced you. You gasped as he devoured you from behind, his finger still rubbing at your clit. His entire mouth encased you, his tongue dragging along your soaked walls. You struggled to stay put as he tasted every inch of you, his tongue useful for more than just witty quips and inappropriate humor.

“I’m close.” You moaned as he moved faster and harder, the tendrils of ecstasy beginning to pull you under. You didn’t need much. Pleasuring Negan like you did had set you on a face track for climax before he’d ever even touched you.

Your muscles burned with unreleased tension, your pussy struggling to clench down on Negan’s tongue. The sound of his lips sloppily drinking from your body filled the room as it threatened to send you over the edge.

“Cum for me. Cum for Daddy.”

Two fingers filled you unexpectedly, forcing your pussy to accommodate. You arched your back against the sensations, feeling the sweet burn begin to make its way up from the tips of your toes. Stars danced behind your tightly shut eyes as your entire body tremored against Negan’s rapidly moving fingers. Your walls squeezed around the appendages, flooding them with your release. You could vaguely hear the appreciative curses from your husband as your body succumbed to the overwhelming pleasure it’d been victim to.

“Oh, god…” You moaned as your high began to settle. The lustful fog was still thick, but you began to come back into your body, your exhaustion now taking over. Your face was still pressed against the bed, your lower half still sitting high. Negan’s hands were caressing your ass, his fingers trailing in the slickness that now coated your thighs.

“I cannot wait to have this tight cunt wrapped around me.” He emphasized his statement with a palm to your thoroughly ravaged pussy, his hand rubbing through your folds with lazy strokes.

You pulled away, too sensitive to have him touching you with such force. “Don’t.” You whimpered.

He released you, but your reprieve was short-lived. He turned you onto your back, your lethargic body unable to fight against his. Your legs were kept spread by his body between them, the grin on his lips almost wide enough to split his face. He appraised your supple form, taking note of the drying tracks of him still marring your chest. His hands grasped your breasts, touching with careful precision. You could feel him watching your face, waiting for you to push him away. But you didn’t.

“You’re gorgeous.” He admitted, new flames of desire roaring to life in his eyes.

“And you’re full of shit.” You teased, your legs trapping his fully clothed body against your nude one.

“I never lie about post-coitus glows, doll.” Negan said with a wink, a finger tracing your nipple.

You outwardly laughed at his words, choosing to ignore the spark his touch induced. “Good to know.”

He eyed you for a long moment, long enough to make you feel self-conscious. You would’ve thought he was trying to read your thoughts, but the smirk he wore said something else. There was a reverence to his gaze, as if he was in astonishment of your existence. That’s what you needed from him. You were more than one amongst five in a harem. Negan was starting to see that too.

“Give Daddy some sugar.” He ordered with a finger tapping his bearded lips.

You let out a girlish giggle, but took the hand he offered so that you could sit upright. You met him in a kiss, the action far from gentle and fueled by passion. Tongues tasted the other, teeth clashed as your lips moved in sync with the other. Your hands ran through his hair while his settled at your hips, running the length of your back.

You both pulled away when air became an issue, the look of satiation surely reflecting in both of your faces. Negan ran a thumb under your eye, no doubt attempting to clean the smeared mascara that had settled there.

“You know, for not getting pounded by my dick, you sure fucking look like you did.” Negan teased with a chuckle as he cradled your face in his hands.

“Gee, thanks.” You retorted flatly, aware that his words were very true. You were sure you looked a complete mess…a gorgeous mess in Negan’s eyes.  

“Let’s get you cleaned up, doll.”

He helped you off the bed, leading you to his bathroom. You ditched your heels as you walked with him, aware that the longer you did this with him, the harder it was going to be to deny him each time. More time spent with Negan meant more time for temptation that you were positive you wanted. You’d been ready to sleep with him, but having him consume you in every other way but fucking you made it all the more sweeter. And soon enough you knew you’d break.

It was only a matter of time.

[tirednotflirting]

show's over, the same old story now

hi i wrote a fic based on ‘moon in the morning’ by adam melchor. objectively this is very much not a happy fic am very sorry (but also not bc i think it’s good lol)

if you’re not comfy with reading stuff about infidelity this one is not gonna be your jam just fyi

thank you to @reveriesofawriter for giving this a read for me this morning <3

you can read it on ao3 here

He’s never given Alex a key. Jack figures he has to draw the line somewhere so he’s never given Alex the spare key to his place. 

Instead, the key stays just beneath the flower pot beside the front door and it stays there rather than under the mat because the first place someone would go looking for a key is below the mat, Jack. So really, the line is more like faded chalk on a sidewalk after a summer rain and Jack can’t be bothered to fix it with something more permanent.

It’s around midnight when Jack hears the lock turning and the front door open and close. He’s been sitting on the floor in front of his coffee table working on a research paper for the last several hours, late night talk shows play from the TV for some background noise. Without lifting his eyes from his laptop screen, he listens to Alex kick off his shoes by the door before wandering into the kitchen. It’s a well rehearsed routine. He doesn’t need to look across the room to know that somewhere on the other side of the wall Alex is plugging his phone into the charger by the coffee maker before checking the fridge for leftovers. (They’re aren’t any in there tonight since Jack finished off the last of the chicken parmesan for his own dinner. There is some watermelon on the top shelf though.)

Given the time and the fact that it’s Friday, Alex must have been picking up someone’s shift at the bar so Jack isn’t surprised when he hears more soft footsteps head in the direction of the bathroom. A few moments later he hears the sound of the spray from the shower. Jack figures that’s another ten or so minutes he’ll have to work on his citations so he gets back to the task at hand. 

Almost exactly ten minutes later, Alex wanders into the living room wearing a pair of sweatpants pulled from Jack’s closet but his own flannel. He hasn’t bothered with the buttons and Jack does what he can to ignore that observation. Alex takes a seat on the couch just behind where Jack sits and again, in an all too familiar routine, Jack sighs at the feeling of Alex’s fingers pressing into the tension he holds in his shoulders. 

“You’ve gotta stop sitting on the floor when you’re working,” Alex says. “You’re going to graduate with a masters in back pain otherwise.”

“I’m comfiest on the floor.”

“I promise you would be comfier at your desk, Jack.” Alex says with a laugh before he leans forward and presses his lips against Jack’s hair like he always does. Before he sits back up, Jack catches the faded scent of Alex’s cologne on the collar of the flannel and it’s enough motivation to reach forward and quickly hit save before closing his laptop for the night. Jack pushes himself up onto the couch beside him and their brown eyes meet for the first time since Alex let himself in twenty or so minutes earlier. Alex looks tired (he always looks so tired) and Jack can’t help but lift a hand to cradle his cheek, his thumb brushing gently below the dark circles he can see in the glow from the TV. 

“I’ll be fine,” Jack finally answers after a few beats of silence pass between them. 

“Just trying to take care of you,” Alex mumbles as he drops a hand against Jack’s knee and his thumb traces circles against the bone there. There’s some kind of emotion Jack can’t quite place in his tone. He’d question what to call it but they both know that’s not where this is headed.

“You always do,” he replies instead and moves his hand to the back of Alex’s neck to pull him closer to bring their lips together. Alex catches on quickly enough and sighs against Jack’s lips before climbing into his lap and winding his arms around his shoulders, his fingers tangling into the ends of Jack’s hair.

Jack smiles into the kiss when Alex gasps at the feeling of Jack’s fingertips skating their way up his back below the worn flannel shirt. Jack has perpetually cold hands meanwhile Alex’s skin always feels like he’s on fire. There’s probably something poetic in that but Jack ignores the dreamy thoughts and words in favor of pushing the soft material away from Alex’s shoulders until he briefly removes his hands from Jack’s hair to shake the shirt the rest of the way off. He tosses the shirt behind him before wrapping himself around Jack again. Jack feels goosebumps rise against where his fingers brush against Alex’s chest and he knows it’s something he’ll never get over the thrill of being able to do.

Alex’s lips travel down Jack’s jaw to the tattoo on his neck that Alex has always been fond of. “Let’s go to your room,” Alex mumbles in a lower voice, his lips brushing against Jack’s ear. He all but falls out of Jack’s lap before grabbing his hand to pull him in the direction of the hall. The flannel is left forgotten on the back of the couch and the TV is left on with some random late night show host still telling bad jokes to a studio audience. 

As they pass the kitchen, Alex’s greedy lips pressing against whatever skin he can find as he pulls Jack toward the bedroom at the end of the hall, Jack swears he can hear the sound of Alex’s phone buzzing out a rhythm against his kitchen counter. 

And unlike Alex’s melancholy tone or the poetry told by the temperature of their skin, Jack doesn’t have to question who’s trying to call Alex after midnight on a Friday night. Jack already knows the answer. But as he takes the final steps into his bedroom and lets Alex kiss him against the closed door, he once again chooses to ignore the truth and the buzzing beside his coffee maker in favor of falling into bed with a boy he knows will be gone by sunrise.

*

A few hours later, the sound of the sink running wakes Jack from his sleep. He’s always hated how lightly he sleeps. He knows he’d be far more well rested just in general if he could stay unconscious through the sound of thunderstorms and his late night companion leaving in the earliest hours of the morning. But he figures for the universe to stay balanced he has to be punished for this somehow and maybe this is the best the universe can do at this kind of hour.

His eyes flutter barely open, just enough that he can make out some of the details of his bedroom from the tiny light provided by the moon shining through the curtain he hadn’t bothered to close before falling asleep a few hours earlier. As he listens to the sounds of Alex brushing his teeth and wandering around Jack’s apartment to find the clothes he arrived in, Jack takes in his open closet and the mussed up other side of his bed. It’s reached the point in the year where Jack only sleeps with a sheet because he can’t rest when he’s too warm. A long time ago Alex told him something about how he’s never been able to sleep without something weighing down over him. Jack had started keeping a quilt in the chair in the corner soon after that. It’s already been folded up again and placed back in its spot.

He hears the familiar jingle of Alex’s keys that he dropped in the bowl by the door on his way in a few hours earlier and exhaustion starts to settle back over Jack. He pulls the sheet up over his chest and turns away from his bedroom door and lets out a long breath before closing his eyes. 

He’s just started to tumble back over the edge toward sleep so he can’t be sure it wasn’t the beginning of a dream but Jack swears he hears the soft sound of footsteps on the carpet and feels a pair of lips press against his temple. It’s probably easier for everyone involved to assume it’s only his subconscious playing tricks with him again though, he figures, and then he’s asleep. 

*

It’s a couple weeks later on a night that follows the same routine as all the others. But for some reason they’ve both chosen tonight to pull a wild card on each other. Rather than forcing his eyes shut and his breathing to steady out after listening to Alex shuffle around the small apartment before heading out, Jack lets himself stay awake. He sits up against the headboard, the sheets falling to pool around his waist. He feels himself shiver in the cool air. He always keeps his place fairly cool at night but he stopped noticing it when he so often is sharing a bed with a human furnace.

Alex steps back into the doorframe, his arms crossing against his chest as he leans his shoulder into the wood, his dark eyes falling to meet Jack’s. He doesn’t look all that surprised to see Jack awake, his eyebrows only barely lifting in recognition that they’ve gone off script a bit.

“You should get some rest, Jack,” Alex says in a voice that suggests he should take his own advice. “You’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”

“Does he make you happy?” Jack asks, his tone all curiosity. Jack is a student before all else; all he wants to do is understand, really.

“He doesn’t make me unhappy,” Alex answers as though the answer should be that obvious. “I wouldn’t stay with someone that makes me miserable.”

“Then does he know you come here? Does he never question why you come home two hours after closing smelling like another man?” Jack isn’t sure who he’s judging more out of the two of them with the questions. He watches Alex take a moment to sigh and scratch at the back of his neck.

“Jack, we can’t have this conversation right now,” Alex says, his eyes floating around the room from his spot at the door in an attempt to avoid Jack’s gaze. “I need to get home. It’s late.”

He shoves his hands in his pockets and turns then to leave. Jack holds his breath until he hears the front door open and close and the lock slide into place. He takes a deep breath then and lets his body fall back against the mattress. Jack closes his eyes and pushes aside the ache in his chest at the silent reminder that despite how often Alex makes his way into Jack’s apartment and heart at the end of the day, home will always be within a different collection of four walls and with a different boy.

*

It’s a creak in the mattress that wakes Jack up this time. For a moment he’s confused at the warm body still pressed against his back. He’s worried his mind is starting to play even more cruel tricks on him in his dreams but the fingertips pressed against his middle tell him their current position is a reality. He lets his fingers fall into the spaces between Alex’s and he feels a sigh against the back of his neck. But he also doesn’t miss the way Alex pulls him impossibly closer against his chest.

“I need to leave soon, Jack,” he states quietly, another emotion hidden in his tone since Jack can’t see Alex's face. 

“Can you stay until the morning?” Jack asks the question before he can stop it from leaving his lips. He squeezes their hands together. The action feels somewhat clumsy, it’s not often that they hold hands. “We’ve both gotta get up for class. I’ll make coffee, you can borrow a shirt.”

“He’ll wonder where I was,” Alex answers though there isn’t anything combative in his voice.

“Will he?”

They’re both silent for a few moments but they both know there’s an answer that’s been said regardless. Alex presses his lips against the back of Jack’s neck and it feels like he’s struck a match against the skin.

“Goodnight, Jack.”

And as both of their breathing evens out while they stay pressed against each other under the sheets, Jack’s final thought before stumbling into sleep is that maybe he wouldn’t mind getting burned. 

*