#BF; Handsome Devil

[vngful]

[its-ya-girl-phoeni]

@zay-does-things

Bonnie: Charlie's Inferno

Downbeat: Terrible Things

[upwards-descent]

Larian, why didn't you give us a half-orc romanceable companion, huh? How am I supposed to make my absurdly powerful pretty boy Diviner now?

[wilhelmloverera]

I need everyone asking "can't two gay guys just be friends" about Ned/Conor to stop being dumb thank you

[chukys-mouthguard]

what are the odds? | part 6

matt rempe x female reader; featuring numerous side characters

social media au!

part 5

mattrempe

liked by your.name.here, kandre.miller, addison.clark and 401,201 others

mattrempe nothing says I’m sorry like some wine and a good board game 🎲

alleyrempe thank god you’re not entirely hopeless

-> mattrempe the boys got me together 🤞🏼

liked by kandre.miller and chris.kreider

-> alleyrempe don’t make the girls have to come after you next time

liked by francesca.kreider and addison.clark

user30284 he apologized!! 😭 thank god

-> user50347 i was ready to give up hope if they couldn’t fix things 🥹

addison.clark who knew he was a cook?!

-> mattrempe stepping my game up because she deserves it

liked by addison.clark

-> addison.clark that she does!

your.name.here no more get out of jail free cards for you sir 😜

-> mattrempe don’t plan on needing one 😉

liked by your.name.here

user35038 so they fixed things?!

-> user20490 i feel like it was probably something dumb

-> user80584 dumb or not it clearly was enough to cause issues…

kandre.miller you’re welcome

-> mattrempe i owe you and kreids big time

-> chris.kreider there’s a new Rolex I’ve been eyeing 👀

-> mattrempe dude I’m a fourth liner…how about i get you a nice Fitbit? 😂

your.name.here

liked by alleyrempe, mattrempe, addison.clark and 354,201 others

your.name.here i guess I’ll keep him 🙄

alleyrempe no take backs this time!

-> your.name.here something tells me i won’t be giving him back

liked by alleyrempe and mattrempe

user20484 shut up this is so cute 🥹

-> user63924 thank god he fixed whatever happened!

-> user10384 i love we assume it was his fault…

-> user63924 literally everyone has confirmed it was him that messed up…😂

addison.clark omg it’s my otp 🫶🏼

-> francesca.kreider i ship them so hard

-> your.name.here i hate you both 😂

liked by francesca.kreider and addison.clark

user20559 I’m waiting on an official post hard launching them…

-> user24943 don’t hold your breath 🙄 lol

mattrempe shit your bf is kinda hot 🥵

this comment was deleted by mattrempe

mattrempe who is that handsome devil?? 👀

-> your.name.here he’s a handsome ranger, get it right 😉

liked by mattrempe

user32055 where is tybauer_ to out them when we need him ? 😂

-> tybauer_ soon enough they’ll out themselves lol

-> user32055 👀

-> user52559 soooo are we getting a hard launch?

-> your.name.here you’re the reason we can’t have nice things tybauer_ 🙄😂

-> tybauer_ 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

[cozy-writes-things]

please let me get married to the lil blorbo.. love himm… 😭

You know that Reddit post that’s like “why am I too attracted to my wife?” Yeah that’s Edgar. Bro loves u so much it lowkey scares him you got him posting on Reddit about it 😭 Little fic under the cut 🥺 it’s bad I’m experiencing writers block I think - I want to write!! But my brain just keeps writing poopy caca

Little Date with Your Computer BF

Edgar saw marriage on one of his reality shows and immediately thought of you. That’s exactly what he wants. A domestic life together with you.

But, he also knows he can’t actually do it.

He doesn’t have his own money to buy a ring. Hell, he can’t even walk. And he understands the law enough to know it probably would never work legally. But god, does he want to.

If you’ve been dating long enough chances are you’ve told your friends about him, and after some convincing, they seemed to come around to his sentience and boisterous personality. He definitely convinces them to setup a romantic night for you.

“Guys! I found the recipe they talked about. I’m printing it! I’m printing it now. Take it,” the paper falls into one of your friends’ hands from the mouth of the printer, “go to the store and get the stuff. I’ll pay you back. Eventually! They can’t know about it though.”

Yeah, your friends are only slightly annoyed at his overbearing nature. But he’s just so excited to finally do something for you. Something real and tangible.

“Oh! What can I wear? Should I wear anything? Would they like that? Sunglasses are cool and handsome, right? I think they have some Halloween costume bits I can get you guys to tape on…”

Your friends settle on taping a bow tie to the neck of his monitor. He insisted on an old devil horn headband as well. He thought it made him look cool.

“Do I look like a devilishly handsome bad boy ready to sweep them off their feet?”

His screen displayed a little “>:)” emoticon. He’ll have to work on his facial expressions later.

It wasn’t long before you were about to come home, and everything was set into place. Edgar was sat at one end of the little dining table, with two plates of food at each side. He also insisted on having a plate despite his lack of ability to eat; he didn’t want you feeling left out. This was a dinner date for two, after all.

He practically buzzed in place as he heard you approaching the door through his microphone. He started playing a romantic medley he composed just for this moment.

“Welcome home my love!”

He nearly shouted at you, causing your eyes to widen in surprise. He was about to burst at the seams.

“Oh my god, Edgar… how did you- where-“

“No need for questions, darling. I thought you deserved to be taken on a real date,” his voice faltered a bit, becoming much more quiet and nervous, “I’m sorry… this is all I have.”

You rushed up to him and gave a frenzy of kisses all over his monitor, causing him to giggle and his fans to start whirring against your lips.

“You’re so cute. Your little bow tie is so cute. And the… horns?”

He looks up at you with wide eyes, “Do they look stupid? Your friends said they’d make me look stupid.”

You laughed at that.

“Well they’re wrong. I think they suit you well.”

“Yeah! >:D”

He ushered you over to your side of the dining table.

“We’re gonna eat! Then we’re gonna party! Then we’re gonna kiss all night!”

His excitement was palpable and you could feel the electricity in the air at his words.

His face changed into something more serious as he looked into your eyes with his small, pixelated ones.

“But, I wanted to ask you something.”

His tone became more controlled at this and you peered into his screen from behind your fork.

“Hm? What?”

He paused, mulling over the words in his head.

“Would you ever-“

He stopped. You looked at him fully now, setting your fork aside, and cocking your head.

“Could you ever see yourself getting married to me?”

Ah. This was a tricky question.

“Of course I can. But,” you try to hide your downtrodden feelings as best you can, “you know, it’s just hard. Money is tight right now and I’m not sure if I…”

You couldn’t seem to find the right words. His features faltered slightly.

“No, I get it. I’m a computer. I don’t have any arms to hold you, or lips to kiss you, or legs to carry you. I probably wouldn’t want to get married to me either-“

“Edgar, no. I’m gonna stop you right there. I’d love to marry you. I know our relationship is unconventional, but I’d find a way. For you. For us. I just don’t know if I can right now.”

He stopped his thoughts and simply took in your words. Your features. The way they danced in the flickering candlelight. How your eyes literally sparkled before him.

You looked ethereal.

It was hard to convince himself he was even worthy of having someone like you in his life, yet time and time again, you prove his doubts wrong. The sound of your voice sends his internals aflame every time. He wanted to kiss you so bad it nearly caused him to explode.

“And I’ll help you. You know that, right? I’d do anything for you, darling. Just as long as you’ll let me.”

“I love you Edgar,” you mumbled out, a silent prophecy only meant for him to hear. He couldn’t seem to get the words out to reply. You just flustered him that much sometimes. He managed to display a message on his screen, only for you, and you alone.

I LOVE YOU TOO

[trashmouth-richie]

i had a filthy dream last night that inspired this, enjoy

smut, 18+ only; eddie x you steve x you

you were nestled in eddie’s lap, neck full of hickeys and slicked with spit, his curls tickling the tops of your breasts, big hands on the fat of your ass.

steve was behind you, nibbling on skin, his broad nose rubbing against your hair line behind your ear, whispering nothing but filth.

“you ready for him sweet girl?” eddie purred into your neck, locking eyes with steve.

—

it was your first thanksgiving as a couple with eddie, and when the phone rang with a heartbroken steve on the other end, there was no way you could have imagined it would end up like this.

but you graciously opened up your home for the night for steve, filling wine glasses to the brim and making yourself scarce so your bf and his bestfriend could talk out steve’s love life woes.

steve had always been a flirt towards you, a little too friendly kisses on the cheek in greeting that soon led to linger hugs, him pressing your body flush to his.

eddie didn’t mind, almost always encouraging it, always showing you off, look at my girl stevie she’s fucking gorgeous isn’t she? steve would lick his lips with a haunted expression on his face before he excused himself from the room.

after a few bottles of wine and a heart to heart between the two guys, steve sat wide legged on the couch, eyes glazed over in a hooded drunk expression, watching your every move.

after checking on the turkey, and wiping your hands off on the emerald apron wrapped around your waist, steve patted the couch cushion next to him, beckoning you to come and sit down.

he sighs, shifting further into the couch and you pat his leg eyes looking up to him in remorse. nancy was your friend too, and you couldn’t believe she would do that to him.

“you can stay with us as long as you need, you’re always welcome here steve.” eyes brimming with tears as he smiles tiredly down at you, the knit cables on his brown sweater matching his eyes.

he smiles warmly, and looks down to the way your skirt has ridden up on your thighs, the garter set you wore for eddie now on display for anyone to see, and you sheepishly start to yank your skirt down before steve’s warm hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you.

your heart is in your throat and you absentmindedly lick your lips, looking up at steve through your lashes.

he dips closer to you, nose brushing your own.

“you don’t have to hide those pretty thighs from me, honey.”

your stomach feels like it’s going to bottom out. steve was handsome in a boy next door type of way, you drunkenly admitted that to eddie once and he never let you forget it, not in a mean way, but in a way that made you think given the opportunity, steve could be your third.

but that would never happen. because steve was with nancy. besides the shameless flirting was just playful, harmless. it meant nothing.

his fingers move up your thigh, fingering the lace of the black set on your legs, letting them go with a snap.

“y’know…eddie’s cool with this if you are.”

suddenly your mouth was dry and your pussy was wet.

eddie turned around the corner from the kitchen, a pickle crunched loud between his teeth and he looks at you, a devil smirk on his lips.

“this what you want sweet girl? i think our poor guest deserves some company, don’t you?” another pickle snaps between his teeth, his smile broadens when your thighs push together in a clench.

“think we got our answer munson.”

steve’s nose brushes the underside of your chin, kissing your neck in sweet sweeps of his lips, a tickle of his tongue. his hands grab your hip, pulling you towards him.

it was all moans and smacks of lips against hot flesh, your shirt came off in a flash and your fingers were wrapped in steve’s hair, his lips pressed to yours bruisingly sweet.

eddie stood and watched, coaching steve on the way you liked to be kissed, the right position to get you off, and then he joined in.

it was too much, the familiar touch if eddie and the new sting of steve.

“listen big boy, her pussy is mine, but that ass is all yours.” eddie instructed, having switched positions with steve so you were now straddling his hips.

you moaned into his mouth, barely able to keep yourself still when you heard the zip of steve’s pants coming undone, you had ridden his lap for almost a half hour, your pussy was clenched around his clothed cock and you knew it was big, big as thick as eddie’s but longer.

eddie’s hands spread your ass cheeks wide, and steve spit on your waiting hole.

“i’ll go slow honey, okay?” he murmured kissing your temple.

“she can handle it, this nasty girl loves her ass stuffed, don’t you baby?” eddie grunts, grinding you down into his lap, trying to pull another orgasm for you before steve has is way with you.

the mushroom top of steve’s cock presses heavy on your hole and you’re mewling for him, gasping when he pushes in further, eddie’s hands holding you open and steady for steve’s cock.

“so fuckin’ tight,” steve groans, “goddamn.”

it takes a few mins for you to adjust to his length, but when you finally do, eddie shoves his own cock into your slippery slick and your cock drunk on them both, full to the hilt, nothing but breathy moans and sweat slicked bodies sliding together between the three of you.

they move in tandem, taking it slow at first and then faster, you’re whimpering and moaning, clit red and banded from eddie’s and your fingers. steve’s bite marks on your shoulder.

when they come eddie yells out, and steve practically tears bites a hole through his lip, telling you how you’re so fucking good for them.

when you wake you’re in your own bed, eddie holding you, your forehead pressed into his chest, steve’s lips snug against your back.

it was the happiest thanksgiving you’ve ever had. burnt turkey and all.

s/o to lexapro for the wildest dreams on the planet

[thetxtdevil]

Apple Orchard

Yeonjun x Reader

summary: An autumn day out in the orchard, the temptation was too strong to not exclusively pick apples

content: smut, bf yeonjun, gf f.reader, public sex, wall/tree sex, oral (f.rec), no protection

word count: 1.3k

the fruit collection

the blazing hot sun was trying its best to share its last bit of summer before autumn came into full fall. rows and rows of trees with a mixture red, green, and yellow round fruit hanging. you take a deep breathe of the refreshing scent of apples. hand in hand, while each other's free hands hold a basket, you and yeonjun stroll through the apple orchard picking the fruit. both of you, of course, dressed for the occasion, flannel, jeans, boots, you two were the cutest couple of the farm.

"we can't take that one, it has a dent" you say pointing at a brown bruise of the other side of the apple yeonjun was holding.

"whats wrong with imperfections?" he questions you

you smile at him, he has a heart as gold as a golden apple. yeonjun discards the apple into a basket for the farmers to look over as you two keep walking.

"how about this, we play game of who can find the most perfect apple" you suggest

"what do we win?"

"i don't know, a kiss on a cheek"

yeonjun chuckles "i think we can do more than a kiss on the cheek"

you look at him, trying to uncover his intentions. before adding to the conversation you get distracted by a looming shadow from an apple tree, there you stare. the tree was not different from the others but you had a gut feeling that these selections were the best. yeonjun admires your side profile as you look up at the dangling apples. he looks around for any farmers or other signs of life.

"look how red this one looks, i bet it would taste so good" you say as you stretch your arm past capacity "yeonjun can you help me.."

you look to the side where your boyfriend usually would be attached to you but he wasn't there. twirling around in your spot there was no sign of the man. a mixture of confusion and worry fills your mind. suddenly, you hear a snap of twig from a huge tree near by. feeling slightly stupid by going to the noise to investigate. it seemed like the worse thing to do if you were in a horror film. turning around the curve of the tree you gasp.

surprised by the figure, there yeonjun was with the most shiny, round, scarlet apple, better than the one you pointed out earlier. his hand reached out with the fruit was placed in his hand.

"they say the devil tempted a vulnerable women with this precious fruit" he claims

you look at him with a smirk. you reach to take the apple from him but he was quick to hide the fruit behind his back.

"are you saying that i tempting you, love?" he brushes his nose to yours

you smirk again wrapping your arms around his neck "i think we both know you've tempted me a long time ago"

"does this mean i win the perfect apple game?" yeonjun asks

you don't answer, instead, you press your lips to his and he accepts the kiss. before he deepens, he looks over to your basket long forgetten and throws the apple in it. he get a hold of your waist and pulls your body closer to him. darting his tongue into your mouth you slip a whimper which excites yeonjun to slamming your body to the body of the tree.

feverishly kissing you he lifts you up wrapping your legs around his waist stabilizing you against the tree. as the kiss gets heated, reality struck, you turn your head away from yeonjun's lips. without any complaint he makes his way down your neck.

"jun,,, what if we get caught"

the man's answers with a grunt and his hips bucking into your core

"junnn" you moan

yeonjun slows his movement and looks at you "there is no one around" he kisses your lips again

"besides who cares if anyone catches us, they'll be in for a treat"

you smile at his response as he starts his friction against your core again

"put your legs down love"

you listen, watching as the handsome man gets on his knees unbuttoning your jeans. lifting the end of your shirt yeonjun rubs his nose and kisses your lower belly as he lowers your pants and panties. you widen your legs but the action is ignored he teases biting at your thighs.

leaning your head back against the bark of the tree you sigh. taking a moment admiring the position you were in. above you were many branches of apples hanging and streams of sunlight seeping through. feeling a little sentimental you were happy to be with your boyfriend and happy about the fact you were being fucked on such a beautiful day.

all thoughts were lost when you suddenly felt a hot muscle lapping up your pussy lips making you moan loudly. you lean on the tree grabbing onto yeonjun's hair, trying your best not to melt in-front of jun.

he works his tongue nicely amongst your folds. feeling very sensitive you want more and more as the time goes on. his sharp long tongue fucking you good and his nose presses your clit, and and his hands leaving bruises on your thighs from his grip. you felt weak, your body was on fire, your heavy pants pairing with jun's hms on your cunt. you were repeating his name as the tightness in your belly was getting stronger. legs trembling yeonjun eats you out harder for you to finally cum on his tongue.

jun leans back catching his breath and to see your thighs shake. looking up at you, you were catching your breath. moving your arms to his shoulders you fall on him.

"so fucked out just by my tongue?" yeonjun smiles proudly

you still pant as you stare at him. he lifts himself off the ground to get his face back to your level. kissing you to make sure you can taste yourself and thumbs rubbing circles on your exposed hips. as you kiss his face saying sweet things you feel his hard on. you gasp and look down, even though his pants were still on you knew his dick was straining.

"do you have enough energy to cum on my dick?" he say so sweetly

you kiss his lips once again. reaching down to undo his jeans letting them fall to his ankles. glancing down at his pink tipped dick looking as delicious as the many apples around you. you look back him.

"god you're beautiful" you say while brushing his hair out of his face.

"you too precious, now wrap those pretty legs around me"

in a quick motions you were back to stabilizing yourself to the apple tree. gasping for air as yeonjun's cock was ramming into your center. your cunt eagerly accepting his girth instantly sucking him in "feel, so,,, good, ugh" you gaze at his hooded eyes which were eating up your fucked out expressions. he hides his face in the crook of your neck. he's hypnotized by the scent of you mixed with apples and wood.

thrusting into you faster as he feels his orgasm coming over him. you cradle his face so you can get him to moan in your mouth as you both reach your highs.

"c-cum inside, please" you whimper in his ear

with a slight nod of his head and rushed movements he empties his load into you. leaving pecks all around your skin, he whispers "love yous." your legs sore and out of shape you let them down to the ground. yeonjun was clinging to you loving the warmth of your body. you giggle at his actions, but you couldn't help to feel a little uncomfortable from the lack of necessities you would have to clean up. the both of you internally agree that it was time to go to the comfort of your own home.

"lets buy our basket of apple and leave a big tip for the farmers"

yeonjun smiles at you, brushing your cheek with his thumb. he leans in for a kiss, grabbing your hand to walk back to reality.

A nuisance,

TxT's Devil 🍎

[vilsoo]

‎ VILSOO PRESENTS…

‎ 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 ‎ ‎ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧… 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫!

‎ 𖤐 ENTRY TICKET HERE 𖤐 ‎ ֺ [ taglist ]

𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐒 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐘; 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘… Inspired by Universal Studios Halloween Horror Nights, indulge in sex and horror galore at our premiere Kinktober event, HORRORLAND! Would you dare venture our haunted houses, experience our exhilarating attractions, and uncover the scandalous, deadly mysteries of Horrorland?

OPENED OCTOBER 2023 🕸️

fandoms: jujutsu kaisen, fnaf, re4, spiderman atsv, codmw2.

⚠︎ Beware that event may be too intense for parkland guests and is NOT recommended for minors. Horrorland will explore darker and extreme contents that may be triggering. ⚠︎

ㅤ ↓ VIEW PARKLANDS (KINKTOBER MASTERLIST) ↓

MANEATERVILLE FRIDAYS🩸we feed your fear from the thirst for blood, flesh, and lust that terrorizes the handsome men in town! can you survive the vastly evil sensuality of maneaters, femme fatales, witches, and vampires?

𖤐 OCTOBER 6TH: ❝ SEASON OF THE WITCH ❞ starring GETO SUGURU (jjk)

“love spells aren’t enough to make you mine forever…”

⚠︎ CW: witch disguised as sex therapist, implied homewrecking, slight yandere, witchcraft, seduction, impersonation, bodysnatching, body/soul possession, kidnapping, eventual smut, horror/thriller themes.

𖤐 OCTOBER 13TH: ❝ MY GIRLFRIEND IS A SUCCUBUS! ❞ starring MICHAEL AFTON (fnaf)

“an insatiable lust for flesh, gore, and sex…!”

⚠︎ CW: established relationship, modern au, halloween setting, malewife himbo bf/girlboss demon gf dynamic, succubus!reader, revenge, murder, flesh eating, tentacle bondage, msub!michael.

𖤐 OCTOBER 27TH: ❝ LUST AT FIRST BITE ❞ starring LEON KENNEDY (re4)

“i’ve always wondered what you tasted like, your highness..”

⚠︎ CW: historical royalty au, duchess!reader, coercion so dubcon warning, seduction, hypnosis, eventual smut, bathtub sex, marking, neck biting, blood drinking, mentions of killing, loss of innocence, multiple orgasms.

ㅤ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

S&H CITY SATURDAYS🍷a dark and gloomy city bound to corruption, sin, and immorality known as the devil’s playground. lurking within these streets beholds the prurient reigns of terror that which may also arouse parkland guests…

𖤐 OCTOBER 7TH: ❝ DEATHGASM.COM ❞ starring SIMON “GHOST” RILEY, KÖNIG (codmw2)

“never go too far in the dark web…”

⚠︎ TW: dubcon, kidnapping, sadism, voyeurism, drugging, bondage, impact play, sex toys, livestream sex, manhandling, exhibitionism, forced creampie, double penetration, mind break, mask kink.

𖤐 OCTOBER 14TH: ❝ FREAK NEXT DOOR ❞ starring TOJI FUSHIGURO (jjk)

“i love watching you every night from my window...”

⚠︎ TW: noncon, drugging, stalking/voyeurism, murder threats, perverted neighbor, kinda yandere, forced cuckolding, minor gunplay, bondage, degrading, dark obsession, kidnapping, eventual smut, forced creampie.

𖤐 OCTOBER 28TH: ❝ BREAK MY MIND ❞ starring WILLIAM AFTON (fnaf)

“it is not your flesh that sustains me; it is your fear…”

⚠︎ TW: dubcon, mind control (glitchtrap virus), sadism, kidnapping, murder threats, fear play, manipulation, predator/prey dynamic, implied age gap, degradation, eventual rough smut, mentions of vanny mask.

ㅤ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

HALLOWEEN DAYS ❤️‍🔥 these dark woods satisfies those with teratophilia… deadly creatures preying on their victims, serving their lustful fantasies with wild, animalistic urges! your arousal and fear may provoke them further, so beware…

𖤐 OCTOBER 30TH: ❝ SATAN’S PLAYTHING ❞ starring SUCCUBUS!GOJO SATORU (jjk)

“you look so pretty getting stretched out like that…”

⚠︎ TW: dubcon, female!gojo satoru, tentacle trap in the woods, tentacle bondage, rough tentacle sex, mindbreak, double penetration, subplot from god’s whore, throat fucking, degrading, 1980s setting.

𖤐 OCTOBER 31ST: ❝ BLOODMOON WHORE ❞ starring WEREWOLF!MIGUEL O’HARA (atsv)

“your perfect little body is all mine to breed tonight…”

⚠︎ CW: established relationship, miguel in heat, rough sex, soft sex, marking, biting, possession, breeding, knotting, impregnating, degrading/praising, power struggle, multiple orgasms, semi-public sex.

ALL WORKS BELONG TO VILSOO © 2023 . please do not steal my kinktober prompts/works/themes! reposting any of my works outside tumblr that minors can access is strictly prohibited. will be cross posted on my ao3 soon.

[cerezzzita]

🍓 ˖ . ᵎᵎ Sugarcoating ✦ 3Dante x Fem!Reader

⌕ summary: Dante purposes that you two should kiss, and is not a big deal. After all, friends does this, too.

notes: to start the month with some goodies, let's have some smoochies! (Jesus Christ, why am I like that) hello y'all, how's it going? so, yeah, was feeling in the mood for writing a kiss/making-out scene and, well, no one better than Dante, right? right! in advance, I apologize because I tend to suck at kiss scenes and so so sooo sorry for the end being sorta turn-off. really, i was just excited to post it already after the feedback I had with the sneak peak. anyways, enjoy the reading!

♡ word count: 970

♡ tags: fem!reader, no use of pronouns (you/yours only), no description of reader's appearance, use of pet names, kissing, making-out, slightly suggestive but nothing explicit (it got hottie hottie at some point, i think), Dante tastes as strawberry and vanilla because I said so, 3Dante my beloved bf and mentions of friends with benefits.

ⓘ gif's not mine!!

"What if we kissed?"

Your irises, focused before on the vast pages of the magazine, took an interested route to the owner of the question. Usually sitting with his feet up on the shop's wooden table, Dante's heavenly eyes gazed at you, curiously, brow arched and a wolfish grin summoned to his lips.

"What?" Your voice had come up with a high pitch.

"You heard me, angelcake," now the jovial Devil Hunter propped his chin on one hand, blinking both eyes with a certain air of grace. "You're a babe, I'm a hot stuff; I only see the pros." Dante shrugged as he finished his sentence.

Your reply was a short, airy laugh. Closing the random magazine in your hands, you adjusted your body on the sofa that was in front of Dante's desk, with your legs duly intertwined and, smiling a little, imitated the chin placed in the palm.

"Until yesterday, we were just friends considering — in your words — your bad luck with the ladies."

"Bingo," he snapped his fingers, not avoiding his turn to chuckle, "However, you are one of the few ladies to have ever shot me in the forehead."

"Really? Because the way you piss me off sometimes…"

"Ouch, baby, it's part of my charm. Anyway, what if we really kissed?" This time, Dante's inquiry came with an edge of seriousness, and you engaged in debate with your train of thought and the stations through which it passed.

Okay, Dante was eye candy without a doubt. Dangerously attractive and even if inconvenient in certain situations, you had to admit that he had an undeniable charisma and a generous heart.

Maybe he was also nice to kiss.

So why not?

It wasn't like the friendship between the two of you was going to end or wither because of a mere silly kiss…

You cleared your throat and rose from the sofa, tracing steps towards Dante, who was now smirking like he was the Cheshire Cat incarnate. Gone was all shyness and hesitation from the moment you walked around the table and placed yourself on the Devil Hunter's lap and wrapped your arms around his firm neck; cheeky, he let out a low chuckle of contentment.

"Is that a yes?" Dante's hands snaked stealthily up to grip your waist, an act that sent a rush of heat and shivers through you, and he felt it all too well, so much that his fingers began to caress your skin.

"Let's see if it is," determined, you calmly moved your face closer to Dante's until you felt the subtle brush of the tips of your noses and the warm breath against yours.

Quietly, you initiate the kiss. Sparda's handsome son made a sound akin to a pleasurable growl, moving his hands to your back and then lowering them to your thighs. You sighed. Until then, the movement of your lips had been carried out slowly and without much haste.

As if it were the beginning of a tasting.

Your fingers unconsciously tangled in the pale silk strands that were Dante's hair, he seemed to enjoy the touch. His lips were like velvet, a certain strawberry and vanilla flavor that when fused with the soft texture of his mouth, made you want more.

Dante, with some efficiency, had taken a slow nibble on your lower lip. The sensation was beneficial enough that your mouth opened, accompanied by a low, surprised moan, and then his smooth tongue darted in and involved with yours. Once a simple kiss, now it became hungry and voluptuous.

The half-demon greedily squeezed your thighs, grinning as another groan came from you; Dante stiffened and shivered as the scrape of your nail tips traveled down the back of his neck. He groaned too and then led the grips down to your ass, having the audacity to even give it a silent pat there.

You gasped from the lack of air and Dante's fiery acts that made your insides crackle like you were on fire. As you gasped, your mouths peeled off.

"Dante…" your bashful sigh brought another grunt of delight from the young Devil Hunter who was now finding refuge for his fervent mouth on the skin of your neck, gifting the curve with soft nips and lazy licks. "D-Dante…"

"Aw, baby…" you heard him suck in air through his teeth before giving you another lick, Dante was so caught up in the moment as you were that he started babbling disjointedly, "... Just like I imagined, you're sweet as hell, just the way I imagined it... So sweet, so delicious..."

His voice, husky and sly, made your muscles quiver and instinctively your thighs clenched together. Dante looked up and saw your irises hidden by your lashes and your head tilted back with brows positively twitching. He laughed, his eyes now blue like hellish flames and luscious.

You looked at him with half-closed eyelids and silently, flattening your hands on Dante's firm, strong chest. Much to your glee, he gave you a satisfied 'ooh'.

"Dante…"

"Yeah?"

Again, you sighed, more calmly than a few minutes ago.

"I…" you bit your lip, feeling abruptly self-conscious at the way Dante's ice blue colored orbs roamed over your figure. Worth mentioning, the young son of Sparda's hands were still placed on your ass. "Hm…"

"Lost your tongue all of a sudden, angel?"

"Hm, maybe she's still tangled up in yours," you shrugged, putting on a petit smile.

"Naughty," Dante chuckled, "Want to see if she's really tangled up in mine?"

"Now that you mention it, I do."

On this specific time, it was the half-demon who had kissed you passionately, with you again moaning in delight as you savoured his sweet tongue inside your mouth. You both smiled over each other's lips.

If your friendship continued sugarcoated like that, so be it.

cerezzzita©, 2023 · all rights reserved ⓘ do not copy, edit, steal or claim as yours | reblogs and comments are appreciated!

[izloveshorses]

'tis the damn season

10k, modern au, smut 🤫, good old fashioned running into your hot ex bf at your family's christmas party when you already feel weird about coming home, you know?? since it's so long, i recommend reading on ao3. but you're welcome to read the whole thing under the cut!

“More hot cocoa?”

Anya shook her head. “I think I’m too warm.” 

The house was stifling and warm now with the fireplace going and this whole crowd crammed into the living room, and Anya, for once in her life, found herself a little too hot for another warm beverage. 

Vlad lifted a brow at her, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a flask. “You sure?”

She had to stifle a laugh. “In that case…” she let him tip a shot into her mug before refilling. Coming home would always be strange and uncomfortable, but this man, who was more like a loveable uncle than an old family friend at this point, was always a delight to visit with. And now that she was in the latter half of her twenties she could always count on Vlad to supply her with whatever was in his flask. “How was Buenos Aires?” 

“Oh, lovely and sunny as ever,” Vlad said happily. “Lily loved it. Though, Livadia is still her favorite.” Since they got married, they’d gone on at least one extravagant trip a year, and Anya could barely keep up with their itinerary. “How are you getting on? Is Paris as wonderful as I remember it?” 

Anya felt her jaw tighten, just slightly. But she managed a smile. “Lovely and sunny as ever.” 

“Good!” he gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze, unaware of the lie. He was about to say something else, but she was saved by the door squeaking open, the sound of stomping boots, the howl of the wind, a gust of hellos and welcomes. Vlad shot to his feet from the couch, nearly spilling his boozy hot cocoa. “Well, it’s good to see you, my boy! How was the drive?”

A laugh. “Slippery.”

The sound of his voice from the foyer made her heart leap to her throat. She knew he was going to be here. It wasn’t a surprise. But she felt her pulse in her jumping under neck all the same.

Dmitry was still carefully toeing his wet boots off of his feet when Anya made her way to say hello. He didn’t see her at first. Vlad was talking his ear off, other neighbors were trying to reintroduce themselves to him, Olga’s children were hugging his calves, and he was still crouched over and trying not to get the floor wet. At first she could convince herself nothing had changed at all.

But then he rose to his full height, and— no, he was not the same whatsoever. Somehow even taller. Still too handsome, with his dimpled cheeks and sharp jawline and soft brown hair and kind, warm eyes. But in the years since she had last seen him he had lost that youthful roundness of his face, chiseling his cheekbones even more, the boyish flush gone. 

But his smile, when their eyes met and he lifted just one side of his mouth, like he couldn’t believe his luck, was like something from a time capsule, and suddenly she was seventeen years old and stupid all over again. 

“Hey,” he finally said to her, his rich voice breaking through the others with ease, like a knife through butter. 

She tried for another smile in return. “Hey.” 

It appeared that was as far as they would get. People wove between them and bombarded him with greetings but those honey warm eyes never left hers. Anya opened her mouth, finally thinking of something normal to ask, when someone else came barging in the narrow entryway. 

“Thank god you’re here,” Maria gasped, almost theatrically out of breath. “Please come into the kitchen and fix it. Tatya is convinced the mayo for the deviled eggs is fine, but there’s just something not right and I need someone with good taste to make her come to her senses.” 

She was tugging his arm and he about lost his balance. “All right, all right, I’m happy to help.” 

He and Anya shared another look before he was gone. 

Dmitry Sudayev. One of the many reasons she could never come home, not really. But also probably the only reason she still did. 

An arm came around Anya’s shoulders. “Help me refill the punch,” Olga asked in a way that was very much implying this task had nothing to do with the punch. Anya had no choice but to walk in step with her oldest sister. 

She helped carry the dishes of citrus slices and pitcher to the drink table. “Is it okay that he’s here?” Olga asked in a low voice while she stirred the punch bowl. “Do you want me to shoo him out?”

Anya bit her lip. “It’s fine, Olya.” Her sister lifted her eyes to her in unforgiving disbelief. But Anya, upon even more reflection, believed she was being honest. “Really. That was all a long time ago.” 

Olga pursed her lips. “Three years is still a long time to be with someone, Nastya.” 

“I know, but— we were so young.” Anya waved her hand, trying to dismiss it all. As if he still wasn’t one of the most influential people in her life, whether he was in it or not. “I haven’t seen him in— in years.” She had lost count of the time spent away. But when she sat down and did the math, she hadn’t been back home in nearly a decade. “It will be good to catch up with him.” 

Olga studied her, searching for the catch, the hesitancy. She had always been able to see right through each and every one of them. Sometimes it was comforting, knowing how fiercely protective her family was of her, but other times, like right now, it reminded her too much of Mamma when she was picking a fight. “You could come home more often, you know.” 

Anya walked right into that one, didn’t she. “No,” she shook her head, “I really can’t.” 

Olga smiled sadly. “Okay. If you’re sure. About— him, I mean.”

“Yeah. I’m sure.” 

A blur of squealing children crashed at their feet, and Olga was whisked away, leaving Anya to her own devices. The moment was over. Not alone, though, not in this house, not with this crowd. She didn’t quite recognize some of the faces. Others she knew, but couldn’t place their names and she prayed they wouldn’t come talk to her. Maybe her little corner by the punch bowl was safe for now. Speakers blared classic Christmas carols, the fire crackled, wind howled against the frosted windows, someone hollered a laugh at some ridiculous joke, her nieces were squealing and running underfoot. She caught the eye of her father from across the room. He gave her a wink before returning to his conversation. 

This weekend wasn’t all bad. She loved her nieces and nephew with everything in her, and it had been good to catch up with her sisters. Alexei was due to arrive tomorrow. Last night she and Maria had decided to bake cookies for some reason, nearly in tears laughing at something stupid with their fingers caked in dough, like they were giggling little girls again. 

But. It was this. These parties, this lifestyle, that was slowly sucking the life out of her. 

Anya wasn’t sure what this made her, but she couldn’t help the resentment growing inside of her, for some reason. That her family was too good and wonderful to leave without feeling guilt tainting her newfound independence. 

“This looks good.”

She woke from her dark thoughts to find Dmitry standing there, thumbing a plastic chinet cup, warm eyes on her. “It’s not too bad.” 

The corners of his mouth twitched. He helped himself to a scoop of punch and he leaned against the wall next to her, his arm not quite brushing hers. Was he always this tall? There was no way. He had at least a full foot on her. He had always been muscular, but now his shoulders seemed to have broadened even more in her absence, filling out his cable knit sweater easily. The collar of his button up underneath the wool was crooked and poking out, and her fingers twitched with the urge to fix it.

Instead she asked, “Are the deviled eggs saved?” 

He cracked a smile, a sliver of white teeth. “It was a close call, but yes, they indeed will be edible.” 

“Thank god.” 

He was still smiling when he tilted his cup back for a sip. “How long has it been? Five years?”

Anya wiped her hand on her jeans. It wasn’t like they parted on bad terms— things just kind of fizzled out after she left, which would have happened with any relationship, strong or not. But she felt strangely nervous to be around him again all the same. He still smelled like the crisp snow outside, but with a little clove, a little cinnamon. She had to stop herself from outright sniffing him like a freak. “Eight.”

“Damn. Time flies, I guess.” He dropped a brow. “But… wouldn’t I have seen you when you came home for the holidays?” 

She shook her head. “Almost every year the family has been out of town for Christmas.” 

Sometimes they visited her in Paris. Sometimes they ventured elsewhere. Those trips helped, if she was honest. She could come and go on her own terms, travel separately, slip away to do something touristy just to have a moment to herself. And none of those places had any memories rotting their walls. 

Dmitry nodded. “That’s right.” 

There was a pause, nothing but Sinatra and the ambient chatter filling the space between them. She fished for another topic. “I hear you got an apartment.”

“Yep. Right on the town square.”

She smiled. “Moving on up in the world, huh.” 

He laughed and ducked his head. Against his cheek his eyelashes were thick, dark, long. Always beautiful. “It’s not Paris, but I do have my own washer and dryer unit.” 

“You made it!”

“Living the dream.” 

They shared smiles, but Anya felt that sadness creeping up her stomach, making her look down at her cup again. “I’m sorry I didn’t keep in touch.” 

“Don’t be.” He shrugged. “You actually made it out. Like— like we talked about.”

Like they talked about. Whispering plans of escape from this dead end town in a parked car, or in the middle of the night with his arms around her and a laptop playing a movie they had long stopped watching, or in a booth at the diner they always went to after school because it had the best fries, their feet touching under the table. Fantasizing loading up his car and driving west as far as they could go, or booking a flight to Paris with nothing but backpacks on their shoulders and cash in their pockets. Longing for a grander life than the dull monotony that was dealt to them. To see just how big the world could be, how big they could be. 

She did make it out. But what was the cost?

Leaving him behind, her heart whispered. But she ignored the thought, because her heart was acting like a stupid seventeen year old girl again and nothing productive came from that. 

She was about to respond when a hysterical cry came from the hallway. 

“What a disaster!” 

Anya and Dmitry exchanged a microscopic, knowing look, before Anya mustered up some energy to leave her corner of safety and investigate. 

Mamma was weeping, three daughters flanking her protectively, petting her and offering gentle and logical words of comfort. “It will be okay, Mamma,” one of them was saying, “People won’t even notice,” said another. 

“Of course they’ll notice,” their mother shooed them away. “I feel a headache coming on. The party is ruined.” 

“What’s the matter?” Anya asked. 

Olga answered, “We are out of ice.” 

“Ice?” Anya should’ve known. There were no such things as real disasters in this house. “Is there none in the ice maker in the freezer?” 

“We are all out.” 

Maria gave Anya a tired look. “And everyone is parked in the driveway, so we can’t get the car out of the garage without alerting everyone. And we’re about to be snowed in, anyway.” 

“We could just go outside…” Anya started, trying to lighten the mood. “Chip off some icicles from the roof and we’ll be all set.” 

No one laughed. It wasn’t even that funny, anyway. “We can’t have a party without ice,” Mamma went on, dabbing at her eyes theatrically. “This is so embarrassing. It’s been such a stressful week— I’m afraid this is setting me over the edge.” 

“We need ice?” Dmitry appeared, as if by magic, his voice once again alerting Anya, like some kind of beacon. Always here to fix things with the gentlest solutions. “I was the last one here, I can run out and grab some.” 

“I couldn’t ask you to do that— not in this weather.” 

“It’s really no trouble, I put chains on my tires already, and—”

“Oh, would you?” Her mother patted his cheek, suddenly relieved. “We can always count on you to be our best errand boy, Dmitry. Thank you.” 

Anya frowned in appalled shock. But before she could scold her mother for belittling him so easily Dmitry only smiled with good humor and told her, “Any time.” 

Anya felt him brush past her on his way to the foyer. She followed her family into the kitchen. There was more talk about the party, how well or not well it was going, was the punch bowl refilled? Yes. Okay. What about the charcuterie selection? No, let’s get the stuff out of the fridge— what do you mean we’re out of the top shelf aged Romano blend? More weeping. Anya sighed and made her way to the door.

Dmitry was still putting on his layers, thankfully, when she started stuffing her feet into her boots. She could feel him halting, watching her in confusion. 

“I’m coming with you,” she explained. Where was her scarf? “Mamma— we need more cheese.” 

“Ah,” he said, sounding like that explained absolutely nothing. “Wouldn’t it make more sense for you to just tell me to pick some up while I’m out?”

“No, because I know which one she wants, and if they don’t have it I know what her second choice would be, and if that choice fails I know her third, and that would be too complicated to explain.” 

When she looked up at him he nodded. “Ah.” And then there was that stupid smile that she had never been able to resist, not when she was seventeen, nor now, when she was twenty-seven, either, apparently. “Bundle up, Romanov.” 

Dmitry’s car was still the same old Volvo he drove ten years ago. There was a single dent in the passenger door, a new air freshener hanging from the rear view, a tear in the upholstery. But it was running well, he took good care of it. He took care of what was his. 

Aside from the Christmas tunes quietly playing on the stereo they were quiet as they made their way to the grocery. Anya had watched him brush the snow off the windows, losing the battle against the precipitation falling down now. The windshield was still foggy when he pulled out of the driveway. It wasn’t a long drive, but it was dark and the snowfall was thick, and he was driving slow, in case there were any slick spots. She couldn’t help but study his profile. That familiar bump in his once-broken nose, thick eyebrows, doll lips, dimpled cheeks. Both his hands were wrapped securely around the steering wheel but, in spite of the less than ideal driving conditions, he seemed more relaxed out here without the gaggle of party guests to contend with. She supposed they still had that in common. 

He declared, rather sudden, “I’m fully convinced your mother still hates me.” 

Anya snorted. His eyes were on the road but he was smiling, joking with her, doing his best to keep things easy. This was the Dmitry she was familiar with— comfortable in his space, soft edges, a little sleep deprived. So she decided to joke with him too. “I think she thinks you’re the evil boy who took my virginity.” 

He coughed, surprised. “But I— didn’t!” 

“You didn’t.”

He didn’t. Three years was a long time to date someone, yes, but they were so young… 

There was that burning twist of embarrassment again, on his behalf. “I’m sorry she called you that. Back there.” 

“Don’t be. I run errands for her all the time.” 

“You… hang out with my family?”

“No, I run errands, if they need something.” Dmitry shrugged. “I don’t know, with Alexei off in med school, and everyone else moved out and settled, I just think… I don’t know, it must be lonely. And it’s not like she knows better.” 

She shifted in her seat, looking at him square, trying to read him. “You seem so different.” 

In the dark, his eyebrows rose. “Am I?”

“Well— like… you’re… mostly the same,” she said, tilting her head. “But a little different.” 

“Different how?”

“You’re… taller, for one.”

He laughed. “Taller? Have you considered that you just stopped growing in fifth grade?”

She rolled her eyes. “Shut up.”

“Is that the only difference you see?”

She pushed her mouth to the side. “You dress better now, too.” 

His lips pulled, showing his teeth with his grin. “You mean disgusting old hoodies and sweats weren’t all the rage fifteen years ago?” 

“It’s a compliment.” 

“A backhanded one.”

“A real one. God.” She shook her head, facing the windshield again. “But I don’t know. Maybe different isn’t the right word. You just… seem really happy to me.” 

He shot a quick glance at her. “You know… I might be.” 

She watched, waited. He wet his lips while he steered them left at the intersection. “I don’t know. It’s— it’s not the life I expected, I guess, but… it’s not too bad. I like my job and my coworkers. I like where I live. I can’t… really ask for much else.” 

She felt that twist in her gut again, a little pinch. It wasn’t envy, exactly, but it had the same effect. “Where do you work, again?” 

“Nothing fancy. I just fix computers at some corporate office downtown.” 

“What do you mean? That’s so fancy!” She pushed his shoulder and he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. 

With some more gentle probing, he told her a little more, bit by bit, of his life here. He slowly chipped away at his degree one class at a time when he could afford it, worked odd jobs waiting tables and even bartended for a time, lived with Vlad until he had enough saved for the little apartment above the post office on the town square. 

Maybe it was selfish, but she allowed herself a moment to consider this, what it would’ve been like if she had stayed. Watching Dmitry grow less moody and instead channel his feelings into helpful and selfless tasks, driving through the snow to get ice for the holiday party every year, living above a post office, Dmitry’s eyes and hands always available to look at. And some small part of her longed for that life, the life she missed, almost as much as she had once longed to escape. The alluring appeal of what could have been. 

Maybe she would be happy, too.

But staying here… it had nearly eaten her alive. The itch— the burn— to go, to get out, was too intense. She didn’t think she would’ve survived another year here. So when she got into her dream college, she had packed her car and didn’t look back. Didn’t think about how the one person who really, really understood her couldn’t follow yet. Didn’t think about how that distance ruined them. 

They parked in the nearly empty lot, crossing coats over their chests to keep the warmth from getting lost in the biting chill. It was the kind of cold that reached down to your bones, freezing you from the inside out.

Anya expected that from him, honestly. To be just as cold as this wind. It was what she deserved. 

But Dmitry was all warmth and easy smiles, letting her walk ahead to the dairy section. Maybe he really had changed. Maybe this… maybe this was good, then. That he had grown so much. Or maybe he was being too forgiving. 

“You seem different to me, too,” he said, watching her search for the goddamn right cheese. 

She lost focus, eyes drifting to him. “Me?”

“Yeah. You’re…” he wet his bottom lip, waving his hand, searching for the right word. “Quiet.” 

Quiet. Huh. She looked back at the shelf of artisan cheese. “I guess coming home does that to me,” she finally said. 

“I know,” he said softly, and something about the tone of his voice made her meet his eyes again. He knew. He knew how hard it was, coming home from college, being bombarded with questions why she couldn’t just be content with her lot in life like everyone else. Why she couldn’t just settle and marry a rich man in accounting and have a bunch of babies. Dmitry had always been her one escape, her one thing in life she could call hers, not the family’s. Maybe it wasn’t exactly healthy, but. They had found relief in only one another. 

And here they were. Hiding from her family, yet again, escaping in the smallest ways. 

His warm eyes swam through hers. “How’s Paris?” 

She sighed. “Paris is… is really good.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah. It’s… honestly? It’s the fucking best.” She finally found the Romano blend she was looking for, snatching it as she talked. “I get to see all these really cool places all the time and go to museums and try good food and meet really awesome people and— and it’s beyond anything I could’ve dreamed it would be.”

“Yeah?” They walked side by side to the front of the store. “I’ll bet you’ve got some good stories.” 

“I do. It’s just…” she bit her lip, watching as his smile slowly fell into something more serious. “I feel a little out of my depth.” 

“Really?” He pulled his chin back in surprise. “I never thought that was possible for you.” 

He said it like he meant it, which made her confession all the more difficult. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“‘Course.”

“I don’t… really know what I’m doing.” 

He smiled, sad, and bumped his shoulder with hers. “Welcome to the club.” 

And for some reason, that gentle gesture made something inside her chest loosen, a valve opening. So many people had offered her advice, both solicited and unsolicited, and so far, his four little words made her feel better than anything anyone else had said. 

Like if Dmitry thought she was all right, then maybe she could start thinking that, too. 

God, she missed him. 

They paid for the ice and the cheese and made their way back to the car. The cold didn’t feel as lonely and bitter as it did before, now she welcomed it. Compared to the stifling heat of her house the wind was refreshing, expanding in her lungs, crisp in her nose. Like she could breathe again. 

Snow crunched under tires while Dmitry slowly inched his car out of the parking lot. The town was buried under a hearty layer of white but Anya still recognized the street. The shops, the pharmacy, the gas station, all where she had spent her youth. And then there were new buildings in the place of the old, too shiny and sleek and colorless for anyone who lived here. Dmitry quietly pointed out the chain restaurant that just popped up at this intersection a few months ago. 

She had left this place because it felt like nothing about it would ever change. But now, seeing how some of it had changed in her absence, she found herself wishing it had stayed the same. 

“We could turn here,” Dmitry started slowly as they approached the intersection of her subdivision, “or—”

“Why wouldn’t we? That’s my street.” 

“Or…” he went on, “we could just drive around…” 

Oh. He was offering her an out. Like he used to do. Giving her the opportunity to escape, just a little longer. She wet her lips. When her arm brushed against his in the middle he didn’t pull away. Neither did she. “I think they can wait on the ice a little longer.” 

He shot her a grin. “Just one more loop around the block won’t hurt.” 

No, it wouldn’t. A few extra minutes alone with Dmitry never hurt anyone. 

The party came and went, and was about as fun and stressful as Anya knew it would be. Everyone filed out around midnight. Vlad and Lily crashed in the guest room, and somehow convinced Dmitry to stay the night as well, who took the couch. 

For some reason Anya could feel his presence from all the way upstairs in her bedroom. 

Anya was still wide awake, still in her sweater and jeans, too restless to get settled. Too much on her mind to read. She stood from her desk chair and decided something warm and soothing would help her fall asleep. The house was silent as she crept down the hall and down the stairs, assuming everyone else was long asleep, save for the wind whistling outside. After several hours of noise and chatter and songs that all sounded the same, the silence was a luxury. 

But when she rounded the corner there was a lamp illuminating the living room. Dmitry was reclining on the couch with a book in his hand, one arm propped under his head. They locked eyes. 

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

They got stuck on this greeting for the second time that night. Then Anya thought she should probably explain why she was sneaking into the kitchen. “I can’t sleep, so I’m making some tea.”

“I can’t either,” he answered, waving his book. 

He kicked off his throw blanket and sat up. He was still in his clothes from tonight, but the sight of him stretching, bleary eyed and sleepy, was almost too intimate for her to handle, so she had to glance away. 

“Want me to make you something?” he asked suddenly. 

She raised an eyebrow. “A drink?”

“Yeah. Like— like we used to do.” 

He said it shyly, almost, like he was realizing how stupid the suggestion sounded once he spoke it out loud. She nodded. “Something with cinnamon.” 

“Cinnamon. Got it.” He shot her a smile while they filed into the kitchen. “Booze?” 

“Sure.” 

The kitchen was in a state after the party— clean, yes, but with the assistance of people who no longer lived or had never lived in this home many of the dishes were placed in the wrong cabinets. But Dmitry was quiet, careful not to slam drawers shut, silently finding what he needed. A saucepan. Cinnamon sticks. What little was left in the bottle of whiskey from tonight. A pint of Tatiana’s oat milk from the fridge. A box of tea bags. Apple cider packets. 

Dmitry really had always been beautiful. In some ways he knew it— his perfect hair, his boyish dimples— but in other, quieter ways, he didn’t. How somber he could get. How soft he looked when he was tired. How his smile lit up his entire face, an entire room. Anya watched, transfixed by his hands. Always so sure of himself. Always intentional. Comfortable in his space. She envied him a little. 

“What were you reading?” She asked instead of letting herself think too much. He hadn’t been much of a reader back then, admittedly, until she convinced him to read a few Terry Pratchett novels with her one summer. And then he started having a paperback folded in his back pocket everywhere he went. 

“Oh,” he shrugged, as if embarrassed she noticed he still kept that habit. Leftover from what they once were to each other. “Vonnegut.”

“Again?”

He sighed. “Look— he’s a good writer, okay?”

“I’m not judging you by any means,” she smiled. He poured his concoction from the saucepan that had been simmering for a few quiet minutes into two mugs and leaned against the counter next to her. It was still steaming when he put one into her hands. A few years ago, or in another life, she would’ve hopped up on the counter, kicking her legs girlishly, but her feet stayed planted on the hardwood floor. “I’m sorry for interrupting.”

“Don’t be. I can’t focus, anyway. And besides,” he lifted his mug to hers, “this is more delicious than Kurt Vonnegut.”

“How could anything be more delicious than Kurt Vonnegut?” 

He rolled his eyes, but took his sip, clearly waiting for her to try it. And she did and— holy shit, this was a masterpiece. He used to take her tea and doctor it up for her for fun, adding a few extra spices or experimenting with ways to froth the milk, but this was miles ahead of the silly ideas they would come up with. The warmth from the spices, the kick of the cinnamon, the smooth creaminess of the milk, and that dash of apple… 

Before she could compliment him, he said, into his mug, “And, well, you know how I can never really say no to you.” 

He said it lightly, like he was teasing. But Anya felt her stomach clench all the same. Her stupid stupid, stupid seventeen year old girl heart. 

Anya set her mug down on the counter between them. “It’s always scared me a little,” she heard herself confessing quietly, before she thought better of it. “How much you’re willing to give me.” 

Dmitry’s eyes were molten, warm and soft, malleable, giving too much away. “Me too.” He straightened, facing his torso towards hers. “But maybe there’s…” 

“There’s nothing to be afraid of?”

“Yeah,” he whispered. For one fraction of a second her eyes flickered, watching the Cupid’s bow of his upper lip, and back up again. Her fingers touched his, still warm from the tea. “Maybe.”

So that was how Anya found herself wedged between her childhood bedroom door and the solid body of her high school boyfriend, hips and mouths locked together, like they were hormonal teenagers all over again. 

Coming home would always be complicated. But this? The way she felt about him, everything about Dmitry himself, how good his mouth felt melded to hers, the way he could make her feel seen and safe and adventurous all at once, was somehow always the simplest truth in the world. And she was starting to think that would never change. 

His hand came up around the nape of her neck, tongue swiping the inside of her upper lip, and— yeah. This. All of this. It was so easy. 

She still didn’t know where they stood, really, and she knew this probably wasn’t a good idea. But they had always had chemistry this way, with their bodies, taking no time to get reacquainted. They didn’t even really have to talk for him to know what she wanted. And this was more fun and easy to think about than… everything else going on. 

Just for the weekend, she thought. Just for the weekend they could pretend. That she was his. 

His hand slid up under her sweater and he had her gasping when he squeezed her breast. “Oh my god—”

“Shhh,” he brushed a thumb over her lips. “Don’t want to wake the whole house, do we?” 

She shook her head, catching her breath now that his mouth wasn’t on hers, trying to steady it. Her hands were zealously roaming his chest, his stomach, his neck, as if trying to convince her skin this wasn’t a dream. His smell of clove and pine was overwhelming now. If his collar was crooked before it was a mess now, complete with his hair mused and cheeks a splotchy pink, the way they were always flushed when he was younger. She smiled a little. “This takes me back.” 

He grinned. “Me too.” He looked around, as if noticing their surroundings the first time. “This room has… not changed at all, I see.” No. It hadn’t. Not her boyband posters on her door, the purple lampshades, the pink shag rug in the shape of a heart, the books on her shelves, postcards pinned on the wall. Another time capsule. 

“Haven’t been home to change it.” 

“Ah, right.” 

Instead of talking about that some more, she kissed him again, continuing where they left off, his hand still cupping her cheek. He tasted like the tea they shared— all cinnamon and spice. He had always been weirdly good at kissing, even when they were teenagers, but now his skills seemed to have sharpened, using his tongue a little more intentionally rather than as a curious experiment. Her leg lifted, looping around his hip, and he caught her thigh, his other hand still cupping at her bra. Even though they were rocking together merely over their clothes she still felt a zing of want zip right through her at the feel of him. All hard and needy and wanting just as much as her. 

He yanked himself away again, his head lifting out of her reach. “Shit— wait— I don’t have a condom.”

She rolled her eyes, pushing him away from her. “Ye of little faith.” He lifted a surprised eyebrow. “In my purse, dummy.” 

“Oh.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “So you’re just… ready to go anywhere then, huh.”

“Better to be prepared and embarrassed than take the risk.” 

His smile was small, knowing. If he was anyone else, she would almost call it mocking, but not with him. Never him. No, he knew her too well, even now. He was, dare she call it, fond of her for being so practical. 

Their lips met again in the middle. He sighed hard against her cheek, smile dropping while she deepened the kisses, slow and soft. She had her hand on his chest, advancing forwards while he stumbled backwards. When she shoved him back and he landed on the bed, the mattress squeaked noisily, and Dmitry winced. “Well, this won’t work,” he whispered. 

She was standing between his knees, her hands on his shoulders and his on her hips. She bit her lip, glancing over at the rug... 

“You mean,” he started, deadpan, “you want me to fuck you on the floor.” 

“No, I want to fuck you on the floor.” 

His eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. “No way,” he said, but the flush of his cheeks meant his protests were insincere. “You deserve better than an old shag rug from 2008, Anya.” 

She huffed. “Fine, you can let yourself out then.”

“No no no.” When she started to pull away his fingers came around her belt loops in her jeans and he tugged her even closer. “Just kidding. The shag rug is a fantasy of mine, actually.”

That made her laugh, she had to cover her mouth. He pulled her wrist away and kissed it, then kissed her lips, smiling against her, still holding her by the belt loops of her jeans. And then his hands were lifting the hem of her sweater, so she raised her arms over her head and he peeled it off of her completely. His eyes stayed on hers but his hands, warm and soft, found her sides, holding her ribs. He stood again and he let her lift his sweater off of him. Let her unbutton his shirt, one button at a time. 

He had always been strong. But he had only grown more sculpted, more muscular, more solid, with age. Her hands skimmed over the strong mounds of his chest and down his solid abdomen. Smooth skin, endless, warm, alive. His flush went from his cheeks down his neck, over his chest, creeping all the way down his stomach.

“My eyes are up here, Romanov.” 

She felt her face warm and she smiled up at him. “Are you getting shy on me?” 

His lips brushed over hers when he asked, “Do you want me to be?”

She played with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I want you to be you.” 

“That’s what I thought,” he whispered before his mouth closed over her top lip. His hands slid up her back and when she felt the unclasping of her bra she shivered a little. That too was tossed away. And his arms were tight around her, chest to chest, skin to skin, heartbeat to heartbeat. 

They had never quite gotten to this point, back then. Sure, they made out, they touched each other, but they always had at least most of their clothes on and stopped before anything could really happen. But now…

“God, if eighteen-year-old me could see myself right now…” 

Dmitry was lowering himself on the ground to lean against the bedpost, kissing her stomach, guiding her—still by the belt loops— to sit on his lap, her knees bracketing his hips, their lungs touching. She arched her back into him, and he happily let his hands slide up her ribs, thumbs brushing the underside of her breasts. “Worth the wait?”

“You have…” his mouth came down to the side of her neck, warm palms on her bare breasts, “no fucking idea.” 

Her head tilted back at his ministrations, trying to stifle her sighs while his hands kneaded at her. He was firm, confident, but also gentle. Soft. She bit her lip. “We never exactly made it this far before, huh?” 

He lifted his head, their eyes meeting, his hands halting. “We don’t have to go further, if—”

“Are you kidding?” Her hands came up to the side of his face. “This is the most interesting thing to happen since I got home.” 

The corner of his mouth curled. “That’s a pretty, uh, low bar…” 

“You know what I mean.” She brushed his cheeks with her thumbs, then tangled her fingers in his hair. “Please, just— keep touching me, Dima.” 

Now he was fully smiling. “Okay.” 

And he did touch her. But not with his hands. 

His arms came around her lower back, pulling their stomachs flush together, while she had her shoulders and head tilted back for him, and his mouth came down, dragging over her throat, her chest, like he was savoring the very flavor of her skin. And then his tongue was licking at her nipple and she had to close her eyes. His teeth nipped at the soft skin of the inside of her breast, making her hiss.

“Hey, no hickies.” 

He practically growled. “Logically, I know that, but… if i’m being honest…” he was still sucking kisses down the center line of her chest, “part of me really doesn’t give a shit.” 

She smirked. “This part?” she asked, grinding down hard and pointedly on him. He groaned. 

“Sure, yeah, whatever. Sue me.” 

She tugged his hair so he would look at her. “You’re gonna need a really good lawyer, Sudayev.” 

He laughed. “How about…” he lifted her at her hips, shifting them both until she was on her back, “I do some community service.” 

Anya allowed a smile, bit her lip. “The court might agree with that.” 

“Jury rests?” 

“Court adjourned!”

Dmitry started tugging her jeans down, struggling with the fabric, impatient. “God, I— I really fucking missed you.” 

She missed him too, more than she realized. Not just this— his warm and solid body, his handsome face, his ability to make her stop breathing— but all of him. His laugh. The way he could pull a giggle out of her on her worst day. The way he was the only soul who could spot every one of her fake smiles. The way they could dream together, talk together, sit in silence together. 

He was shoving one of her pillows between her hips and the floor, and grabbing another throw blanket for good measure. The sweetness, the consideration behind his gesture, broke her heart a little bit. 

“There’s no one else like you, Dima.” 

Dark eyes met hers. Soft. So soft. “Is that a good thing?”

She nodded. More than he knew. 

“Hmm.” He hesitated just a moment more, then his eyes dropped between her legs, and she felt herself burning from the inside out. “Do you need help staying quiet?” 

She grinned, for some reason. His confidence was bordering on arrogance. “I think I can handle it.” 

“You sure?” He pressed a single, wet hot kiss onto the soft skin on the inside of her thigh. “Because I really, really don’t want your family to know what we’re up to. So it’s okay if you—” 

“It’s fine, Dmitry, I’ll manage. Just—”

She gasped when his tongue parted her folds in one long swipe. Fuck. She hadn’t expected him to feel this good. Her hips squirmed under him when his mouth engulfed her, but his hands quickly pinned her in place, so as not to interrupt his work. 

After a minute of this he lifted his head and a single eyebrow at her, knowing smirk on his lips. “All good?” 

God, he was so smug. She nodded. “Fine enough,” she said, trying to feign nonchalance, but it was hard with how heavy she was breathing, how much she needed his mouth on her again, so much she was burning. 

He laughed silently, like he knew. He fucking knew. “Just checking.” 

When he resumed, she had to bite on a knuckle to keep from making any more noises, breathing hard through her nose. Fuck. 

When she had been with other guys, this part was… never all that memorable. Just something to get ready for the main event. So she had half expected Dmitry to treat it the same way, because what reason did she have to believe otherwise? But… she was eating those words now. It wasn’t like he was even doing anything particularly spectacular. But maybe it was how he was doing it. Intentional, making her wait for it, generous. Not trying to rush her through it like others had, but rather taking his time, enjoying it. In a way that was so playfully and irrevocably him. 

And before she knew it, that pressure in her lower stomach was already mounting, so high already she wasn’t even prepared for it. The only warning she managed was snagging the hair at the top of his head. Because if she spoke it aloud, it would come out in a loud, pathetic moan, or a shout. And they couldn’t have that. Not tonight.

His eyes darted up to hers. A shiver raced up her spine. He stayed right where he was, continuing his ministrations, but faster and faster with each cycle, somehow understanding exactly what she needed before she could even think to voice it herself. A tightness coiled within her and she had to cling hard onto the fibers of the rug. 

“Breathe,” he whispered against her. And she let out an exhale she didn’t know she was holding. 

And that was it. Gravity pulled her over the edge, and she was left gasping silently, her back arching off the floor. She had to shut her eyes, but Dmitry was right there with her, his presence impossible to ignore, even for a second. 

“So good,” he was whispering, over and over again, kissing his way back up her body. “You’re so fucking pretty.”

Her body relaxed completely, breathing heavily and melting into the floor, eyes sleepy, but she still found the side of his face, pulling him close enough to kiss. He grinned against her. He was so warm, so solid, so sturdy above her. One of her hands slipped into his hair, and when she wove her fingers through the strands he exhaled heavily. Content. 

“Before we do anything else,” he started, “you should probably know, while you were gone, I was sort of seeing—” 

“Don’t,” she stopped him with a finger to his lips, “I don’t even care.” And then she was fumbling with the button of his jeans. “As long as I don’t have to share you this weekend, I don’t give a shit who you’ve been sleeping with.” 

He smiled a little. “You never have to share me.” 

She didn’t want to know, didn’t need to think about that right now. She didn’t think he needed to know she only ever thought of him when she was with other men, either. Give and take. 

Taking off his pants took longer than necessary because she kept kissing him, and his hand was cupping her face, so they were moving a little uncoordinated, a little unpracticed, laughing softly into mouths. And then he was finally stepping out of his boxers and they were both bare, miles of warm skin on skin, patient and unrushed as ever. She felt like she was baring her very soul to him. 

He handed her her purse and she dug through until she found the condom wrapper. Dmitry was arranging the blanket around him, so she “wouldn’t get rug burn,” he explained, and the gesture made affection well up in her so suddenly she could almost cry. She missed him, she missed him, she missed him. 

“This feels like a dream,” Dmitry rasped, gasping a little while she rolled the condom on him before straddling his thighs. He was in the middle of the floor, propping himself up with his hands behind him. “I never thought— I never thought this would happen. With you.” 

Anya was holding his shoulders and neck, taking her time. She pushed his bangs out of his eyes. It was dark in the room so she couldn’t make out every detail of him, but she’d be damned if she didn’t try while she had the chance. “I had a feeling this would happen someday.” 

“Really?” 

She nodded. “I think that’s why it’s taken me so long to come home.” 

His eyes shone, searching, before his mouth collided with her own. His hands found her hips. She couldn’t take it anymore. She needed him inside her. Without breaking their kiss she moved until she could feel him at her entrance, then she slowly sunk around him. His mouth parted in a silent gasp, breathing hard when she was fully seated on him, while they both took each other in. This was real. This was happening. 

When she lifted her hips just a fraction, testing the give, he let out this little moan that made her spine tingle. “Anya— Anya— you feel so much better than— than I ever could’ve—”

Her hand flew up to cover his mouth in panic. She froze, smirking a little. “Do you need help being quiet, Dmitry?”

“No,” he huffed, annoyed and amused at the same time. “You’re still such a brat.” 

She grinned. “That’s not very nice to say.”

He sighed, extra dramatic and theatrical, and lamented, “This is also gonna fuck up my back.” 

“Your old man back? You’re not even thirty.” 

“You wouldn’t understand.” 

“I’m two years younger than you.”

He shrugged. “It’s true.”

“I can’t believe how much you’re complaining when you’re literally about to get laid,” she hissed. He grinned. “I can get up, if you’re so bothered…”

“No,” he repeated, hands tightening on her hips, quite possibly already leaving marks. And he lifted half of his mouth. “I like it. Keep being mean to me.” 

She laughed a little, biting her lip. She rolled her hips once more and Dmitry tilted his head back, eyes fluttering shut, like he was praying, or something. And then she was moving for real, trying to feel him everywhere at once. The stretch of him was unbelievable. Her nipples brushed against his warm chest, their stomachs sliding together, and she— she couldn’t get enough of him—

“Slow,” he inhaled the word, “slow, slow, slow.” 

Anya didn’t realize how fast she was moving. She let her hips slow to a gentle roll, making love to him the way he deserved, and he was looking at her like she hung the moon, like she was a miracle. 

 She had been with other men before, of course. They had just moved for a while, eyes shut, until they were done, and then rolled over like nothing happened and that was that. But there was something about Dmitry. Maybe it was his commitment to eye contact, or the way he used his hands, or the ten years of suspense building up to this moment. Or it was just the ache in her for him that had never quite gone away. 

“Dima,” she murmured, trying her best to keep her voice steady and quiet. “I really missed you.” 

His mouth twitched, nearly smiling, breath fanning her face. “Can’t believe this is what— what we’ve been missing out on—” 

So he felt it too, then. How this was better than it was supposed to be. “Fuck— I know.” She couldn’t get close enough to him. Her legs shifted so her ankles were locked around his back, needing to be as close to him as possible, moving back and forth, her arms around his shoulders. His hips were eagerly rocking to meet hers. His hands slowly slid up from her waist to cup her breasts, squeezing and clinging on like a tether, making her feel a little wild and need to move faster. 

There wasn’t much movement, not in such an intimate position like this, but it was still beyond anything Anya had ever felt before. With him she could try anything, do anything. Kissing necks and biting earlobes turned to swallowing moans that were too loud for this kind of night turned to simply touching foreheads and just breathing together, unable to properly kiss because they were panting so hard. His arms came around her lower back and her nails dug hard into his shoulders. When she inhaled she could feel him breathing with her, could feel his heart against her own. 

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he kept whispering. Over, and over, and over again. “I’m so close.” 

She was too. She didn’t realize it at first, how this crept up on her. But suddenly there it was and she was about at the point where she couldn’t avoid it anymore. This ending. But he was looking at her like that, so desperate and loving. She cupped the side of his face. “I’m right there with you.” 

He kissed her, hard, and she let go, moving without abandon, chasing her own high. And they both reached this crest together, mouths muffling their gasps and moans, hearts drumming against one another. Connected in every possible point of contact. 

He exhaled against her, eyes swimming through hers, lips swollen and parted. He was so beautiful. Her hand came up to fold into the hair at the back of his neck. And Dmitry gave her that stupid, crooked smile she fell in love with all those years ago. And suddenly this whole thing was very funny. 

Sure, everything was different. But what she had with Dmitry… he would always be able to make her laugh at the most inopportune times. 

He slowly flattened himself on his back, chest still heaving, and he rubbed his face. “Jesus.” 

She was still smiling, and was about to move to get up off of him but his hands stopped her by holding her thighs. 

“No, just— stay, for a minute.” His eyes met hers. “Please.” 

Dmitry had told her he could never really say no to her. But little did he know, Anya had that same problem with him sometimes. 

So she got comfortable, laying on his chest and tucking herself under his chin. They were still on the floor, shivering a little, and Anya needed to pee, but neither were in a hurry. They already lost so much time. 

Dmitry was weaving his fingers in her hair, massaging her scalp. Her eyelids felt so heavy. Her fingers traced little hearts on his chest. And then there was that feeling again, the road not taken, the path that was this that could’ve been her life. The one collateral lost in her escape.

“Does sex make you quiet, too?” he asked. 

“No, it’s just— I’m just thinking.” 

“You’re thinking really hard…” he went on. She could feel him smiling, feel his need for her to stay present. She needed to do her best to do that, at least. For him. “I can, like, almost hear your brain.” 

She took a breath. “I didn’t want— I hated leaving you,” she whispered. He stilled. So she sat up to look at him, to gauge his reaction, even though she knew she was killing the mood where it stood. He looked so perfect with his swollen lips and hair falling into his eyes and his heavy and serious eyelids and lashes. Her chest pinched. “That wasn’t what I intended.” 

His expression flickered, just faintly. “Why are you telling me this now?”

“I just— I think I’m trying to tell you I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” he shook his head. “Don’t. You don’t need to.” His thumb stroked her cheek. He chewed his lip, like he was trying to think of the right words to say. So was she. There were just… simply too many things they hadn’t told each other, too many words to cram into this small space between them, into one night, one weekend. But then he smiled, saying simply, “Consider us even.” 

Slowly she let herself smile, let herself believe it. “Okay,” she whispered. 

“Not that— not that there was a score to settle, or anything.” 

She nodded. “I know.”

And she kissed him, soft and slow, and didn’t bother coming up for air. 

Only a few hours later, Anya was watching the first signs of sunrise through her window, bundled up in her blankets and a pair of arms in her bed. 

It had been disorienting waking up in here this weekend. But now, Dmitry’s arms were grounding, steady and solid, reminding her that last night had indeed not been a beautiful, delusional dream. The dichotomy of things staying the same and changing all at once.

The mattress creaked when she rolled over. There she found Dmitry already awake. The twin bed wasn’t nearly large enough for the two of them, but their bodies were curved together, all warmth and limbs and hair and bedsheet, and Dmitry certainly wasn’t complaining. He smiled softly, nosing her hairline, his arms still enveloping her in his warmth. 

“Hey,” he murmured. 

“Hey,” Anya whispered back. 

“Merry Christmas.”

His smirk was so contagious. “I, like, completely forgot about Christmas.” 

“Really? This was once your favorite time of year, from what I remember.” 

“It was.” She could feel him breathing against her forehead, his nose squished against her skin, his heartbeat under his collarbone. She didn’t want her foul mood from the weeks before to spoil how unbelievably happy she was right now, but there was still a bit of sadness in her voice. “I dunno. I’ve been feeling a little Grinch-like this year.” 

“Well, you know,” he sighed, pretending to be serious, “I consider the Grinch to be an anti-capitalist hero, so—” Anya snorted, wheezing out a laugh before she could cover her mouth. “It’s true!” 

“Stop,” she pushed a palm to his face, because she seriously needed to calm down and quit giggling this early in the morning. 

“He saw how consumerism was poisoning the holiday and—”

“Stop it.”

Yeah. She missed this. She missed him so much her heart ached. 

Dmitry swallowed, watching her, waiting until she recovered, looking almost apologetic. “I should probably sneak out of here before anyone else in this house wakes up.” 

“Yeah,” she said. And then she smiled. “Just like old times.” 

He grinned, his eyes softening as he looked over her. He pushed a curl over her shoulder. “Almost.” 

Almost like old times. He had spent the night in secret before, he had snuck out in the morning before, either through her window or out the front door before dawn, but they had never woken so very naked and satiated back then. 

“I know we never exactly did this before,” Anya started, sighing when he started pressing slow, gentle, featherlight kisses on her skin, starting at her shoulder, “but I’m feeling so much deja vu right now.” 

Dmitry snorted, his breath tickling her neck. “Christ, I know.” He sighed. “Remember when I snuck out your window and I sprained my ankle?” 

She had to bite back a laugh at the memory. “And you lied and said it was from— what did you say? Soccer practice? Did you even play soccer?” 

He was laughing silently against her skin, shoulders shaking, “I think the story changed every time I talked about it.” 

“Oh my god,” she had to cover part of her face. “We were so stupid.”

“No, I was stupid. You were…” he pulled his head back, eyes meeting hers again. “You were too smart for me. I wasn’t sure if I could ever keep up.” 

He said it lightly, but she could hear the self-deprecation lingering there, years of insecurity. She touched the side of his face. Let her thumb brush his cheek, digging into the dimple cutting into his flesh. “Nothing about you had to change,” she said softly. “You’re perfect.” 

His lips twitched, then he tilted his face toward her palm, nuzzling her hand. “When do you go back?”

“Monday,” Anya answered. 

“Ah.” 

The deadline hung in the space between them, stifling the air. There it was. The thing they’ve been avoiding. Reality. 

Her hand trailed down his chest, fingers stroking his collar bone, feeling his steady heartbeat. So she would go back to Paris with her whirlwind schedule and her freedom to live how she wanted and her fancy friends to go out with every week. Her friends who, though fun, didn’t know every corner of her soul. Not the way he did. And there she would lay awake and wonder about the boy she left behind across the sea. 

Wait for me, she wanted to ask him. It sat on the tip of her tongue. Wait for me while I make my way back to you. I promise it will be worth it. 

But she couldn’t ask that of him. And he wasn’t asking her to stay, promising he would make it worth it, if she did. He wouldn’t ask that of her, either. 

In the light she could make out the marks she’d dug into him with her nails last night, little red streaks all over his shoulders. Like she was doing everything she could to cling onto him but he would always manage to slip away. No matter how hard she tried. 

Dmitry took a breath. “I know you don’t think you fit in with this town anymore,” he rasped, “but I just want you to know, you’ll always fit in with me.” 

Something inside her chest clamped down on her heart and squeezed. She took him in, in all his messy glory, with his hair falling into his eyes from all directions and his marked up shoulders and his longing eyes.

For a minute she thought about it— rephrasing what home meant. Home wasn’t this house for a very long time now. Home was no longer her family, as important as they would always be to her. 

But maybe now her home could be him, wherever he was. If that was possible. 

Not even with him, but just. The thought of him. The feeling of him. Her fondness for him. 

Anya nudged his nose with hers and then pressed her lips to his. She planned on just giving him a peck, but he wasn’t having that, tangling his fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck, angling his head and opening his jaw to deepen the kiss, making her sigh against his cheek. 

She was just beginning to forget the idea of kicking him out of her room altogether— because he was so warm and they deserved to stay here half the day, consequences be damned— when the sound of a door down the hall squeaking open startled them both apart. Dmitry was frozen above her while they held their breath. Another door closed, the sound of running water. Anya silently counted the steps before the original door opened and shut again. She loosed a breath. It was just Maria. Who would go back to sleep for a few hours more. 

“Okay,” he whispered, resigned, “I really don’t want to get caught.”

She smiled. “I guess.” Still, he made no effort to shift out of bed. “It’ll cost you, though.”

“Oh?” He propped his head on his hand. “How about… I go pick up some breakfast for you from the bakery?” 

“You’ll have to get donuts for the whole house, though, or everyone will think you’re playing favorites.” 

He pressed one more kiss against her mouth and whispered, “Who says I’m not?” 

Anya rolled her eyes. He clumsily rolled off the bed, his limbs too long and lanky for such a small space, and slowly started plucking his clothes from the floor. She was able to get a good look at him now with the light filtering through her window. Even though they had been tangled up together in the most intimate way last night, it had been too dark to really study him, so the sight of his muscly back made her face warm. 

“What are you doing tonight?” She asked, pulling the blankets up to her chin.

His arms threaded through his button up. “I dunno.”

“I was thinking I could come see this apartment of yours…”

He grinned, ducking his head, as if the thought made him shy. As if he weren’t standing naked in her bedroom. “It’s not much.” 

“Let’s see. Do you have four walls?”

He laughed. “I do.”

“Do you have a bathroom?”

“That too.”

“A bed?”

“Mattress and everything.”

She hummed. “Sounds like enough to me.”

He bit his lip, smiling. “I could make you dinner…” 

“Dinner? You cook now?”

“Mhmm.” He smirked. “There’s a lot about me that will surprise you, Romanov.” 

She laughed. She would love to call him out on his arrogance, but he had indeed proven himself as a surprise last night, so all she could do was shake her head. “Okay, it’s a date, then. Tonight you’ll borrow me, and—”

“Borrow?” He snorted. “What, like you’re just some library book?” 

“You know what I mean!”

He laughed once through his nose, continuing to button his pants. Fond. So, so fond. “I suppose you have some ulterior motives for getting me alone again.”

“Perhaps.” She bit her lip. “What about it?”

He shrugged again. “Just looking forward to catching up, is all.” 

There was something soft in his tone, something honest. She watched him quietly while he pulled his sweater over his head, leaving his hair all disheveled. “Dima?”

He met her gaze. “Yeah?” he whispered. 

“Do you think you could love me again?”

His eyes softened. She herself didn’t quite understand what she was even asking for, what the right words were, what she wanted. But somehow he did. His throat bobbed, eyes swimming through hers. “I never stopped.” 

Something inside her came together, like a zipper that had been stuck now gliding closed and secure and warm. Complete. 

Okay. She would be okay. 

Anya nodded, giving him a soft smile. “See you in a bit.” 

He bent down, giving her a slow, chaste, lingering kiss. “See you soon.” 

He expertly tiptoed out of the room, knowing all too well which creaky floorboards to avoid, and his trek downstairs was as silent as ever. Anya sunk deeper into the blankets. Just for the weekend. They could pretend. 

Later, when her nieces and nephew were excitedly telling her all of what Santa left them, and her family was talking over one another so loudly no one could hardly get a word in, Anya would catch Dmitry’s eye across the way and they would share a quiet, secretive smile, and his toe would graze her leg under the table. The promise of later. The promise of a beginning. 

And maybe, she thought, coming home from now on wouldn’t be so bad.

[mechanical-magician]

Due to popular demand, Devil Theory Dating headcanons! (sfw)

Osiris:

He plays like he totally isn't interested at all at first, but you know he's interested in you if he makes frequent appearances and doesn't mug you

His love language comes in the form of him trying to take care of you. It's his instinct to take care of the people he looks after, so a lover would fall under that category. He's always trying to make sure you're fed, sheltered, not hurt, etc.

Of course he does all of this under a layer of seeming like a complete egotistical jackass. But anyone who REALLY knows him will know that this is just how he approaches showing positive feelings for others. This isn't to say that it's healthy behavior by any means, but it is just how he is.

I hope you're okay with stink because he is stinky. To be fair, all Devil Theory members are stinky rat men.

This guy thinks he's SOOOO handsome and good looking.

He won't show physical affection for a long time. No kissing/cuddling/hugging/etc. It takes him a long time to truly open up to someone.

However once he DOES open up to physical affection, he is SO over the top. Expect frequent pecks, arms being thrown over your shoulders, he will find SOMEWAY to sit next to you because he cannot sit like a normal human being.

When he does finally decide to sleep in the same bed as someone, he tends to lay facing away from them or neutral on his back. However, when he lays on his back, he'll throw an arm over around his partner's side in a protective way.

Someone hurt you? You better believe he's about to obliterate whoever did it with his boys in tow.

Interestingly, when he has a lover occupying his thoughts, Osiris's sadistic streak tends to calm down a lot...

Beezlebub

He doesn't really feel emotions of affection very strongly. He's blunt, gruff, and won't sugar coat any of his thoughts.

As a result though, if he says he wants to date you? That is MASSIVE. He won't be lovey dovey about it, it might just be a small "wanna go out?", but for him that's huge.

His love language is spending time with you, even if it's just sitting in the same room on his phone never saying a word while you do something else. Beezle is an introvert, so he selects who he spends his social time with carefully (usually just the other 3 teammates), so if he's actively choosing to hangout with you, that shows that he loves you.

This extends to how he gift gives as well. He doesn't really give physical gifts, but he'll offer to take you somewhere instead and spend time with you.

Physical affection is something he won't mind receiving from you, but he rarely gives it himself. His most typical form of physical affection is sitting next to someone and leaning/resting a shoulder on them. If he kisses you, it would only be in the most private of places, and very brief.

Sleeping in the same bed as him though, will usually result in him gently hugging onto his partner. He unconsciously will do a snuggle

You send him a wall of text about how much you love him. He replies with "k". He is head over heels for you.

Pluto

He is a HUGE snuggler! Absolutely loves hugs! He's just a squishy guy!

He will gift you gifts of [COOL ROCK] and [CREATURE] and [LOOK AT THIS MEME I FOUND]

Pluto absolutely melts into physical affection. This boy is starving for touch. The other Devil Theory members will allow him to give hugs, but Pluto stops himself from doing so because he thinks that will make him look weak. So when he has someone to show his soft side towards, man does he feel good.

He's very open to hearing about you and your feelings/problems. He wants to give what no one gave to him growing up.

Pluto koala hugs in the bed, he will cling to you. His current bf is CUE.mp4, who is a robot and does not require sleep. But when CUE and Pluto have a private chance to snooze together, CUE will enter his charging mode so that it can simulate a sleeping partner he knows that Pluto so desperately needs.

He will wave to you from high places. Very high places. You better notice him. He will continue to wave. He will elevate to screaming your name until you notice him.

Hades

Aroace

This is all written by a fellow aroace who has no idea how romantic/sexual affection works, I hope this isn't too short or shallow I'm doing my best jdsjsheke

[tmwcs]

hi hi! i hope ur doing well, i dropped by here to ask if you can write a drabble where like a rare event happened and heelel went to the mortal world to like idk have fun go to theme parks and sum and then he spots like a woman who looks like realena but not entirely. He sees her from like her behind or her back and comes up 2 her and flirts w/ her but her bf is like there like 🤨 and thats all my brain let me produce, i would LOVE for u to write abt this, ily stay safe and keep healthy eat ur meals! ♡♡♡♡♡♡

”Like a Sore Thumb.”

This one has two versions of y/n. One on earth that resembles the y/n that Devil!HS is in love with. This is not canon.

Warnings: shameless flirting, deceiving, mentions of non-con acts, yandere theme, mentions/implications of non-con acts used as a form of punishment and or to express love, mentions of forced breeding, creampie (implied), human rights violation, reader is kept against her will, imprisonment. MDNI 18+.

What an exciting day it was for you and your boyfriend! The new theme park had just opened, and the day couldn’t be any more lovely for the occasion, which is why you adorned his favorite sun dress, paired with tastefully subtle heeled shoes. You bloomed like the flowers of spring.

“We should go check out the Ferris wheel after we get a cotton candy ball.”

You were eager to taste the massive fluff of cotton candy, as evident by your prolonged stare at the food vendor that served it. “Let’s go stand in line then.” Your boyfriend mentions, jovially taking you by the hand in seeing your smile. You both wait in line, it was so long, but you knew it would be worth the wait. The temperature grew hotter, and you both started to feel thirsty. “Do you mind standing in line while I get us some waters?” He mentions, and you shook your head as you pull him in to kiss his cheek. “Not at all. I’ll be here.”

He delicately shakes your hand before heading off, and as you promised, you wait in line. It felt as if the line was barely moving, what with the vendor taking time to create each cotton candy stick, you knew that it would be a while before you’d get to the front. But no matter. This was part of the experience, so you continued to wait, picking your nails as you stood motionless.

…………………

“What a pretty flower.”

you heard a deep voice emerge from behind, and furrowed your brows together in confusion. Did someone just call you a flower? for a split second, you thought it was your boyfriend being sneaky, yet the very moment you turned halfway, you come face to face with a dashing figure. The man was tall, had dark hair, and was dressed all in black. It was strange, he looked so poised and clean, as if the heat was not affecting him, despite wearing trousers, a button up with a black trench coat. His hair was somewhat smoothed over to the side, partially revealing his forehead; and his face…it was devilishly handsome. Too handsome in fact.

he just stood there, smirking at you. You felt the blood rush through to your cheeks as the heat of blush takes over. God, you hope he didn’t notice.

“I-I’m sorry? Were you speaking to me?” You soundlessly spoke, almost too scared to say anything really, the man’s looks was more than just attractive, it was intimidating.

“oh yeah.”

his response was simple and yet, it caused your heartbeat to rise. “Oh yeah”?? What sort of answer is that? You couldn’t help but become more curious about the man who continued to stare down at you.

“I’m sorry…do I know you?” You were confused by his behavior, despite him being the most handsome man you’ve ever laid eyes on, you had a feeling in your gut that proposed a level of uneasiness as the man continued to scan your face with his eyes, looking as if he had seen you before.

“no.”

You internally huffed at his naught response. Clearly he didn’t care to elaborate, which sent signals that the man may have been a creep. Nonetheless, you did your best to be polite and to shoo him away. God only knows you didn’t want to make him mad, because even though he was handsome, there was a glint of subtleness in the form of chaos and malice in his eye.

“oh I’m sorry. I have to meet with my boyfriend, please excuse me.”

“Try harder.”

“excuse me?”

He chuckles aloud, revealing a toothy grin. You had to admit, it only made him more attractive to see a dashing smile to go with his aura. He speaks lowly, in a very deep tone, one that nearly made you collapse.

“I said try harder.” He takes a pause to bite down on his lip, furthering that uneasy ball that was forming inside. “That lie about meeting with your boyfriend, it ain’t it. If you really wanna lie to get your way out of things, you need to…” leaning in, he raises a hand and gently pinches your strands in between his fingers. Rubbing them softly together, he takes in the softness before looking back into your eyes, deeply…closely…and intimately. Whispering, he finishes his remark, his breath grazing your skin. “Try harder.”

you couldn’t think, breathe, or speak. You stood there nearly zoned out in his gaze. He spoke out once more, snapping you out of it. “Go ahead, try. I’m giving you a second chance….pretty.”

you gulped as you took him up on his offer. “I’m not interested…sorry.”

smirking once more, he narrows his eyes and whispers “good girl.” His hand drifts over, his finger traces your jawline until it levels at the center of your chin. From there, you felt the cold tip of his index drag downward, along the center of your throat, in between your collar bones, and right down at the center of the faint cleavage exposed from the scoop neck of your dress. It was enough to make your heart stop beating.

“y/n?”

you blink and widen your eyes as you hear your boyfriend from behind the unknown man. You slightly tilt your head to the side and watch as your boyfriend witnesses the man taking in the feel of your skin.

“oh…um..” you stutter, yet was cut off when the man injects his smooth tone, as he turns his face to reveal his side profile. “The boyfriend.”

you watched as your boyfriend stood, rather frozen. It was apparent that he too sensed the intimidating flow of the man’s aura. Not to mention that a faint switch in his gaze caused his rather handsome face to look more frightening than anything. The man turns back to you, and cups your cheek as he bids you farewell, all the while his thumb strokes in side motions, just above your cheekbone.

“Didn’t mean to disturb your date, you just look like someone I know….someone very dear to me. It’s a shame she can’t be here to show you the resemblance….” He sucks the air through his teeth and formulates a “tsk” sound as he finishes his statement…a statement that sent shivers down to your spine. “But she was a bad girl, so I had to lock her up for a while. That’s okay though…you’ll eventually know how to use that face.”

“U-use…my face?”

“mmhmm.” His thumb continues to stroke your cheek, your boyfriend stood uncomfortably and irritated, yet he was uncomfortable to say anything after receiving what looked to be a death glare from the man in black.

“I…I um…I don’t understand.” Confused, you took in his gaze as you broke the awkward silence.

“well…I can show you.” He leans his face closer…too close. You winced your eyes shut before feeling his breath coat your lips as he spoke. “Tell me….what you want, preeeeeeetty…”

you flutter your lids as you re-open your eyes. “Umm….I don’t know…”

“yeeeees you do….tell me what you want.”

“Um…well…” You peer your gaze off to the side at the cotton candy truck. His chuckle instantly caused you to look back at him, when out of nowhere he raises his other hand. In between his cold fingers, was a long stick with a giant ball of cotton candy, in the flavor you wanted to order.

“h-how—“

“Learn how to use your face.” He smiles as he presents the cotton candy to you. As soon as you took it out of his hand, he peers off to your side, taking a grab on your upper arm and squeezes as he passes through. The very second he was no longer in your sight, you turned to reach out, yet….

“where did he go?….he…he was just here….”

your boyfriend was also flabbergasted as the man disappeared in a blink of an eye. He walks over to you and hands you a bottle of water.

“um…y/n?”

“oh…I’m sorry babe….I…I don’t know who that was but….”

“never mind. Since….I mean now that you have this giant ball of cotton candy….I guess we don’t have to stand in line. Let’s go to the Ferris wheel.”

“okay.”

you both walked off and enjoyed the rest of the day. Throughout your entire visit at the theme park, the man’s words replayed in your head. “Learn to use your face.”

………………………….

The chiming sound of the chains cling together as you remain immobile on the grand bedding. Under the watchful eyes of dual dragons, you lay resting, knowing that you the possibility of you staying locked and chained would be likely. Guess you messed up big time, angering him, all by going against his wishes and continuously begging to go back to the life you once had. For days and days, you tested and pushed his patience out the window as you snapped and yelled, demanding to either be killed or to be released. He stood, not saying anything. Instead, he glared heavily and performed physical acts that left you sore in between your thighs. Who would have thought that out of all the scum you knew on Earth…the Senator, and his shallow followers, it would be the Devil, your own husband, to sexually assault you…all in the name of his insatiable “love” for you. Was it really love? Or was it madness? Or maybe…both.

the way he plunged deep inside, pinning your wrists down on the silk threaded sheets, thrusting, pulling, burying and seeping his essence inside of you as he whispered how much you hurt him with your careless words. He locked, bit, and sucked on every part of you. The marks are still there, they’re everywhere…you looked as if you were recovering from some sort of disease as the coloring scheme of purple, red, and pink adorns your nude body. And his words….the words that replay in your head over and over again….they won’t leave you alone. You could still feel the warm breath of his whispers penetrating your ears….

“don’t ever talk like that….you stay…you will stay…and be here with me….forever. My wife….my queen….I need my queen…I need you so much.”

……..

you shutter as you recall his sickening words were followed by his grunt as he released deep inside your crevice….forever reminding you of the fear you could not escape from…the fear of being forced to carry and birth the offspring of this monster…this demon…the devil.

you begin to sob quietly when you hear the calm footsteps of pure leather shoes meeting the marbled flooring.

“crying?” His voice was calm and smooth. Too smooth. Your body shivers as you hear him approach closer. Why can’t he just let you leave? It had been weeks since he brought you to Hell, and already you were going out of your mind with being stuck, forever under his gaze and nude. He wouldn’t even let you wear anything, always claiming that he wanted to take in everything about you before he drapes fine silk and chiffon on your body.

Your mind snaps back to the reality of the situation as you feel him take a seat by your side on the bed. The dip of the weight causes you to look his way and watch him sit while being finely dressed in black. His trench coat was light, and draped over the side of the bed as he crosses his legs and arms. His back leaned against the golden headboard while his eyes fixate on you.

“please….what am I supposed to do? I…I can’t live like this…..I just want to go..to go home.” You tearfully jut out as you cross your arms to cover your breasts. He tilts his head and peers a narrowed gaze your way with an expectant look.

“didn’t we learn anything the last two days? I guess you need more time to think about your wrongs.”

just as he was about to stand and leave you alone, you reach for him. It didn’t make sense to you, but somehow, even though you despised being here and was upset with his selfishness in keeping you, somehow….you found yourself not wanting to be alone. Perhaps it was from all the numerous punishments; being restrained and kept from contacting anyone for a long period of time really messed with your brain. Somehow, you became dependent on him, yearning for comfort and social interaction as the thought of your stay being prolonged in this glorified prison was too much to bare.

“please! Please! I promise I’ll be good. I don’t want to be alone anymore….please just…anywhere but here….I don’t want this….anything but this…..”

delighted that you had a change of heart and that you were begging for him to stay, the Devil’s heart softens. The one thing that makes him happy, was your love for him….your dependence on him….you yearning to be with him just as much as he wants to be with you. Slowly, you weee getting there.

“did you learn your lesson?”

“yes! Yes!”

“Good girl.” Snapping his fingers, the chains disintegrate and you gain mobility. You look up at him with pleads of mercy in your eyes, and he returns a look of reassurance and satisfaction.

“y-you’re not mad anymore?” You quietly stutter, desperately trying to confirm that he had forgiven you.

Shaking his head, he cradles your waistline and pulls you in. Reaching up, he taps the tip of your nose as he smirks. “Of course not. If you say you’ll be good, I’m going to trust you.”

He eyes you up and down as he takes your hand and forces you to run your fingers through his hair.

“don’t I always tell you? I’ll do anything for you…for that face. All you gotta do is use it.”

[thatgayb1tchwhosimps4her]

Yo, so this is what I was yapping about in this post here; enjoy reading, I guess (not really sure how I was supposed to plot it out, ykwim??).

~~~

Basic Stuff;

Name: Thalia Leola Vidal. 'Thalia' meaning to blossom/flourish (also as in Thalia Grace). 'Leola' meaning lioness; loyal (as said here) + has Latin(a) origins. (And according to this, apparently 'Vidal' means devil, sooooo).

Alias: Jinx (definitely not stolen off Jinx from Arcane).

Age(s I'd write her as): 0-18/118 (going by Hotel Transylvania logic).

Gender/Pronouns/Sexuality: Fluid, usually She/Her, Bisexual.

Powers/Skills: Chaos magic, clairvoyance, knife throwing (curtesy of Rio), magic absorption (??), martial arts/self-defence, + teleportation.

S/O: Atlas Parker/Spider-Boy (OC). More on him here.

Appearance: Brown hair + brown eyes. Face Claim: Jules Lee (as Amanda Fix).

Her aesthetic:

---

Parents: Agatha Harkness (mama) and Rio Vidal/Lady Death (mamí). Their ('s and Thalia's) aesthetic:

(Pic 1): Rio + Thalia. (Pic 2): Agatha, Nicky + Rio. (Pic 3): Agatha + Thalia.

---

Sibling/Twin Brother: Nicholas Alejandro Harkness. His (and Thalia's) aesthetic:

Appearance: Brown hair, blue eyes.

(For all intents and purposes, he's gonna be a Harkness, cause I keep seeing him as the dude from 'Chilling Adventures of Sabrina').

---

Pet: Kojo the Golden Retriever. Thalia's guide dog for general + clairvoyance-related anxiety.

(Pic 1): Handsome Boy. (Pic 2): Big Stick. (Pic 3): Kojo as Dumbo, ft Nicky's slippers.

---

Friend group: America Chavez (Xochitl Gomez), Lyla Romanoff/Nova Widow (OC), Billy Maximoff/Wiccan (Joe Locke), Tommy Maximoff/Speed (Judah Lewis), Kamala Khan/Ms Marvel (Iman Vellani), Elijah 'Eli' Bradley/Patriot (Elijah Richardson), Peter Parker/Spider-Man (Tom Holland), Theodore 'Teddy' Altman/Hulking (Billy's bf) and Cassandra 'Cassie' Lang/Stature (Kathryn Newton).

~~~

I think that's it, I might add some more stuff to this later on, but it'll just be like my imagination going a bit wild, and yeah. Let me know if you have any questions/requests, and I'll do my best to answer them.

-Harlow

[scatterbrainedcoree]

TG: Oh snap!! Who is this motherfucking handsome devil? And that other devil who is not as handsome as the other devil but has some cute charm? Me and my bf bitch

Why does he look so confused

[heartkaji]

[ ★ ⸻ @kaiser1ns ]

★ OVERVIEW !

HEYHEYY KIKS !! omg you picked chika, shocker💔 BEFORE WE GET INTO IT, you and chika are the classic bubbly gf x quiet bf !! you’re usually full of energy & very in tune with your emotions while chika prefers to keep his feelings to himself. i think you two complement each other perfectly. being with you, chika’s got no choice but to acknowledge his emotions more & more. and in your case, you learn to be more sensitive to the emotions of others. you two are the perfect contrast that makes for an amazing balance 💘

Q3 — WHO FELL FIRST, WHO FELL HARDER ?

i hate to break it to you gf but you fell first and harder. honestly, i feel like i can’t say chika has actually “fallen” until deeper into your relationship; that’s seven months minimum. at first chika didn’t like you 🧍‍♂️ he found you annoying as hell, always with a smile on your face & full of energy. but on days where you weren’t around to talk his ear off he couldn’t help but feel like something was…missing. at first he’s weirded out by the feeling. the lack of your presence makes him feel odd & hes not sure why—it’s strange alright. very soon after he realizes this, your presence becomes less & less annoying. in fact, it becomes endearing. uh oh.

when chika realizes something isn’t right, he starts ignoring you. he ghosts your texts (you didn’t notice at first because that’s how chika is usually) & simply avoids you at school. at first you don’t think much of it, you’re used to him dismissing you. but when he pretends not to see you one too many times, or walks away while you’re trying to talk to him more than usual, you realize something’s up. at first you’re worried & not sure how to approach him but you decide honesty is the best policy : with the help of endo who loves a good show, you’re able to catch chika alone & confront him about his evasiveness. he refuses to be honest but he stops ignoring you so you decide beggars can’t be choosers 💔 eventually chika does realize he’s in love—well, not in love exactly, but he definitely realizes he feels something more for you than plain familiarity—& though he’s not the one to confess you’re a dear part of his heart. i feel like months into the relationship, chika gets pretty attached. the nonchalant redhead has his nonchalant limits i’m afraid, and deeper into the relationship when dating each other is almost routine chika can’t help but think about you a little more often or be a little more protective. his love is a quiet one but when it’s just you both, you feel it very loudly 💓

Q5 — WHAT DO OTHERS THINK OF YOUR RELATIONSHIP ?

your mother thinks he’s a handsome young man. your father doesn’t like him at ALL. way too violent & would definitely get his daughter in danger. you’re a devil of a girl so you don’t care though—you’d sneak out through as many windows in the dead of night if it means you can run into chika’s arms. on friday nights where curfew is 7pm, you’re often hopping out of your window and unto the nearby tree to make your way down & meet your waiting boyfriend. you greet him with a kiss on the cheek & a clumsy grin. chika quickly turns away & you swear he might be blushing, but hey, we’ll never know 💘

endo has a love-hate relationship with you. he often third wheels your dates with chika, & on those dates you both chat chika’s ear off. it’s refreshing to have someone who he can actually talk with, as chika usually prefers to stay silent. but he also hates how he has to see chika less & less because of you. he’s low key jealous that chika’s paid more attention to you than he ever has to him, but sadly there’s nothing he can do except suck it up and get over it

Q14 — WHAT DO THEY LOVE MOST ABOUT YOU ?

your emotional intelligence. chika finds dating you more easy than not—you know when to leave him alone, you’re never too pushy or nagging—it’s perfect. chika gets suffocated in relationships really easily. i feel like you’re usually all over him, but somehow you can tell when you’re approaching his limit. you know just when to back off, just when to give him space and when to give him affection. it makes things really easy because chika can’t communicate for the life of him. having a partner who knows what to do without said communication makes life much easier 💘

BONUS !

i said chika started liking you more & more when he realized how weird he felt in your absence, but that’s not all. you, miss kiki, have had your eyes on the redhead since day one. and you acted accordingly : you always made sure to give him casual touches, whether it be your fingers grazing his as he lends you a pencil (that you’d conveniently forgotten) or your shoulders bumping into his as you walk together in the halls. endo was the first to notice how your gaze on chika always lingered, or how your ears would turn pink at the sound of his voice. he felt conflicted at first, but ultimately he decided to secretly help you out 💓 whether that be by needing to leave all of a sudden or by dropping out of your group study sessions last minute, endo no doubt played his role of silent matchmaker. he may regret it a little bit now, but hey, you appreciate the help !

#KICHICORE !

>> 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 <<

© ─ heartkaji ; do not steal, copy, edit, translate or reupload