#PUT THE PEN DOWN. HE DOES NOT NEED ABS.

[ozymoron]

no more buff men!!!!!!!!!!!! no more!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i cant takr it anymore!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[barelytolerabled]

The Wall Between Us

Spencer Reid xfem!Reader

Summary: You and Spencer see each other again after days avoiding each other at the writing club

Warnings: none

WC: 1.162

You nervously tapped your pen on the desk as you waited for your turn to share your writing at the club meeting.

You had been avoiding Spencer for days after a heated argument. The tension between the two of you was palpable and it was as if there was a wall between you that neither of you knew how to break down.

You nervously tapped your foot on the ground as you waited for Spencer to come home. He had been working on a case for days, and you hadn't seen him in what felt like forever. You knew he was dedicated to his job, but lately, it felt like he was putting it before you.

As soon as you heard the door open, you stood up from the couch, ready to confront him. Spencer looked exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes and his hair in disarray.

"Hey," he said, giving you a tired smile. "I'm sorry I'm late."

"It's not just about being late, Spencer," you said, crossing your arms over your chest. "It feels like you're putting your work before me, and I don't know how much longer I can take it."

"What are you talking about?" Spencer asked, confusion etched on his face.

"You've been gone for days, Spencer. You don't call, you don't text, you don't even check in. It's like you don't care about me at all," you said, your voice rising with each word.

"I do care about you, Y/N," Spencer said, his voice softening. "But this case is important, and I have to focus on it."

"You always have to focus on something, Spencer," you said, tears starting to prick at your eyes. "It's like I'm not even a priority to you anymore."

"That's not true," Spencer said, taking a step towards you. "You know how much you mean to me."

"Then why does it feel like you're choosing your job over me?" you asked, your voice trembling.

"I'm not choosing my job over you," Spencer said, his tone firm. "But sometimes, my job has to come first. You know that."

"I understand that, but it feels like you're always choosing your job over me," you said, your voice cracking. "I need to feel like I matter to you, Spencer. I need to know that I'm not just some afterthought."

Spencer took a deep breath, his eyes searching yours. "You do matter to me, Y/N," he said, his voice gentle. "I'm sorry if it hasn't felt like that lately, but I promise I'll try to make it up to you."

"I just don't know if I can do this anymore, Spencer," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

"What do you mean?" Spencer asked, his voice barely hiding his panic.

"I mean that I don't know if I can keep feeling like I'm not a priority to you," you said, your eyes filling with tears. "I love you, Spencer, but I can't keep feeling like this."

Spencer's face fell, and you could see the hurt in his eyes. "Please don't leave me, Y/N," he said, taking a step closer to you. "I'll do anything to make this right."

"I just need some time to think," you said, stepping away from him. "I need to know that I matter to you, Spencer. I need to know that you're not going to put your job before me every time."

"I'll try to do better," Spencer said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want to lose you, Y/N. You mean everything to me."

With that, you walked away, unsure of what the future held for you and Spencer. All you knew was that you couldn't keep feeling like you were second best in his life.

But when you found out that the theme of this week's writing club meeting was "love," you knew you had to write about Spencer. It was your way of reaching out to him, of showing him that even though you were angry and hurt, you still loved him deeply.

As the person before you finished, you took a deep breath and stood up, clutching the paper in your hand. You glanced around the room, taking in the other writers who were all waiting patiently to hear your work.

"Um, hi everyone," you began, your voice slightly shaky. "My name is Y/N, and I wrote a poem about... someone special to me."

As you stood in front of the others to read your poem, your hands were shaking and your voice was trembling. You felt Spencer's eyes on you, but you didn't dare look up to meet his gaze.

As you started to read, you felt a wave of emotions wash over you. This was the first time you had shared your writing with anyone, let alone a group of strangers. But as you spoke, you realized that the words flowed out of you effortlessly, as if they had been waiting to be written all along.

"I hate the way we fight and bicker,

The way we always seem to disagree and quiver.

I hate the way we've been avoiding each other,

The way it feels like we're not even lovers.

I hate the way I miss your touch,

The way it hurts to not feel your clutch.

I hate the way I love you still,

Even though we've been through so much ill.

I hate the way you make me think,

With your genius brain that never seems to blink.

I hate the way you see the world,

Like there's always more to learn, more to be unfurled.

I hate the way you're always right,

Even when I'm stubborn and refuse to see the light.

I hate the way you make me smile,

Even when I've been down for a while.

But most of all, I hate the way I don't hate you.

Not even a little bit, not even at all."

. As you finished reading, you finally looked up to see Spencer staring at you with tears in his eyes. He stood up and walked towards you, taking your hand in his.

"I hate the way I hurt you," he said, his voice choked with emotion. "I hate the way I let my work get in the way of us. But I don't hate you, Y/N. I love you more than anything in this world."

You felt tears welling up in your own eyes as you looked at him, feeling the weight of his words and the sincerity in his eyes.

"I love you too, Spencer," you said, squeezing his hand tightly. "I hate fighting with you, but I know we can work through anything as long as we're together."

Spencer leaned in and kissed you deeply, his arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace.

As you kissed him back, you knew that your love for each other was strong enough to overcome any obstacle, no matter how big or small.

[boyfhee]

ooo wait what about rating likelihoods using the otp prompt generator and your moots with their bias

mimi ure a genius

@maiverie : 104266/10 why am i crying IM IMAGINING THEM GOING TO A PET CAFE AND ALL THE KITTENS/PUPPIES JSUT ASSEMBLE AROUND HEE AS THEY SIT DOWN??? like she goes to place their order and then it's heeseung who's busy playing with them it's so cute until it's time to leave and mai has to pick the kittens/pups one by one and put them aside to free him 😭😭😭😭 they keep running back to him HEAD IN MY HANDS IM DISSOCIATING 😭😭

@flwrshee : 10/10 ITS GIVING HIGHSCHOOL TALENT COMPETITION? like imagine ri being the new student and having no one to pair up with yet and then heeseung approaches her, asking if she wants to pair up with me (ri-cael band disbanding in my head) I SEE HIM LOOKING AT HER WITH HEART EYES AS SHE PLAYS WTV INSTRUMENT SHE'S GOOD AT. like the perfect romance here idk my otp fr THEIR PERFORMANCE IS ABSOLUTELY INSANE LIKE EVERYONE SAW THE WAY HE LOOKED AT HER WHEN SHE WAS THANKING PPL AROUND AFTER WINNING ohhh god me when😂

@whoschr : 56325/10 hear me out. both chae and hee having a crush on each other and they go out with their friends IT'S SNOWING OFC WE NEED TO SET THE ATMOSPHERE and then they sit on the bench when heeseung sees that she's shivering a bit??? chae i know u left ur scarf at home deliberately. ANYWAY SO SHE JOKINGLY SAYS THAT THEY SHOULD SHARE HIS SCARF BUT MY GUY, HE'S SERIOUS AND SCOOTS CLOSER TO HER AND PUTS HIS SCARF AROUND BOTH OF THEM im on the floor crying . like imagine both of them blushing and all JUST CONFESS ALR

@hoonvrs : 10/10 SAINTHOON CORE!!!!! thought they both were being discreet and subtle with all those glances and winks WE SAW. like u do not expect us to not notice the way sunghoon deliberately drops his pen during class as an excuse to mutter a soft and quiet 'i love you' to saint who's sitting in front of him GOD THE PEAK OF HS ROMANCE???? thought no one was there when they were kissing in class after school but me and ri we SAW U BOTH . the walk of confidence they do when they announce their relationship to the friend group on graduation and everyone is like . we Know 🥸 EVERYONE POINT AT LAUGH AT THE LOSER COUPLE i love them

@haerinz : 9/10 one point off bc idk how someone messes up a kiss so bad that they have bruises BUT THIS IS SO CUTE LIEK IT ALR TOOK JUNGWON EIGHT DAYS AND FIFTEEN SELF TED TALKS TO KISS FAE AND THEN WHEN THEY TRY TO DO THEY JUST BUMP FOREHEADS 😭😭😭 the crazy amount of blushing oh my god he cant face her after that . BUT FAE I KNOW WHAT U ARE I BET SHE CUPS HIS FACE AND KISSES HIM YEAHHH idk maybe they also get matching bandages for those bruises ☝️

@jaeyunverse : scale broke THIS GENERATOR IS CRAZY?? ok first of all i know the real sage won't hesitate let's be fr. second of all THIS IS SO CUTE like idek what to say here everything is said by the generator LIKE I BET SHE FIRST STARTED AT HIS FACE FOR A GOOD FIVE MINUTES. AND THEN LEANS IN TO KISS HIM BUT ALMOST BACKS OFF WHEN HEESEUNG OPENS IN HIS EYES BUT HE'S A MAN OF HIS WORDS HE DOES KISS HER i could've added a few more things here but let's keep the delusion low for now

@tyunni : 10/10 this is something they will do i know. like imagine riki peeking through the slight gap as he hides in the closet, smiling widely every time may seemingly steps towards the closet BUT SHE NEVER GOES NEAR IT 🤓☝️ MY BOY SPENT FIFTEEN MINUTES IN A FUCKING CLOSET FOR HER LMFAOOO HE JUST GIVES UP IN THE END AND COMES OUT SAYING "U HAVE TO COME NEAR THE CLOSET FOR ME TO SCARE U" LIKE ??????? riki where did the logic go. HE'S SULKING BC HIS PLAN FAILED AND I KNOW MAY WILL NOT LET THIS GO . riki hates her for this (no he doesn't)

@jennaissantes : 10/10 the cutest!!! like they're both sitting on the couch and watching tv before the tv is ignored and they start talking ab their day SHARING TEA ohh . gossip girls fr 🙏 U CANNOT MISS THE WAY THEY KEEP SHIFTING CLOSER TO EACH OTHER LIEK from sitting at corners for the armrest to moving to the middle to falling asleep while cuddling and snuggling on the couch THAT GUY IS HOLDING ON HER REAL TIGHT BC HE DOESNT WANT LILY TO FALL OF THE COUCH i want this

@ctrlemis : 10/10 idc if anyone uses ipod now THIS IS TOO CUTE TO NOT TALK ABOUT. like cmon im sure sunoo is down bad for art ANYONE IN THEIR RIGHT MIND WOULD BE and he def plans on confessing with a playlist since they love listening and trying out new songs. THE SWEATER UMMM bet it's after it has rained and the temperature has gotten a few degrees lower when sunoo offers them his sweater before art leaves for home (they both do but they live in opposite directions yes this is right) he literally sprints all the way to art's place when he realises his ipod is with them, AND LIKE IMAGINE THE CONVO LIKE ART DEF GOES "i like you too" while handing over his sweater and ipod while sunoo just stops functioning for a good minute IM CRYING THEY'RE SO ADORABLE

@sunooze : 356447/10 adding mimi here for giving this amazing idea IM SRY IF JAY IS NOT UR BIAS BUT I JS WENT WITH HIM BC I SAW HEE, JAY, JAKE AND SUNOO ON UR BLOG PLSSS but this is so cute i would propose immediately if someone did this for me LIKE I DEF SEE U RUMMAGING THRU THE KITCHEN TO LOOK FOR SOMETHING TO EAT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT AND JAY WALKS UP TO CHECK ON ALL THE SHUFFLING NOISES??? he looks so sleepy ok sleepy jay will be adorable i know but all the sleep lefts his body when he realises that what u want isnt at home . INSTANTLY RUNS TO THE STORE . LIKE U BLINK AND HE'S OUT OF THE HOUSE. comes back w so many packets of that food item that it's not gna run out for at least a week pls pay him back in cuddles ☹️

@heeliopheelia : 10/10 BUTTERFLIES? carly and hee they both r talking more like she is talking and he's listening so attentively (eye contact game is insane) while she's talking about her day or something, AND THEN HE SUDDENLY BRINGS HIS HAND UP TO HER FACE TO TUCK A FEW STRANDS OF HER HAIR BEHIND HER EAR how have you not passed out yet bae. AND THE WAY HE'S SO NORMAL ABOUT IT LIKE HIS REASON IS "it was blocking my view, pretty," I WILL THROW MY LAPTOP ACROSS THE ROOM

[callsignspark]

soft-tober | 11 | Billy Avalone

soft-tober is about experiencing the joys of October with loved ones. each day is a fall-related one-shot for one of the couples from my Dagger, Sword & Shield universe, plus a few extras! today is Billy and Aaron with “I don’t like scary movies.” “I’ll keep you safe.” from this prompt list.

If you’d like to be tagged for soft-tober, please send an ask!

word count: 1.6k

soft-tober masterlist | main masterlist | divider credit here

warnings: implied homophobia but nothing is actually said, this takes place in a vague time during the late-2000s before DADT was repealed bc I haven’t nailed down their exact timeline yet, some miscommunication but it gets resolved

callsignspark disclaimer: my blog is an 18+ space; minors do not interact - you will be blocked. I do not consent to my work being copied, run through an AI generator, translated, or posted elsewhere. I do have an AO3, where I eventually will be cross-posting my works.

11. “I don’t like scary movies.” “I’ll keep you safe.”

“Oh, for the love of god!” Aaron slams his hands on the table, wincing even as he does it for fear of the librarian kicking them out. Again. “You have got to stop.”

“Stop what?” Billy feels dumb asking, but he’s actually not sure what’s annoying his best friend.

“The fidgeting, Billy! Tapping the pen and bouncing your knee, you’re shaking the entire table!”

“M’sorry.” His voice is tiny, scolding himself for not being able to do anything right lately.

“I know,” Aaron sighs, scrubbing his hands down his face. “I just really need to finish this paper, so I need quiet right now.”

“I’ll go.”

“You don’t- I don’t want you to go, Billy. I just need quiet for the next hour.”

Billy sucks his lip into his mouth, he’s been jittery all week, and today has been worse than any other day, unable to sit still. Things have been tense between them since last weekend, and he doesn’t want to make Aaron even more mad.

“I don’t think I can.” He quietly admits, ears burning.

His best friend glances up from the textbook he’s furiously flipping through, taking in the bashful expression of the man across from him. Aaron opens his mouth, but Billy’s stomach growls, interrupting him.

“Have you eaten dinner? Why don’t you go grab some food?” Aaron suggests when Billy shakes his head. “Leave your stuff here, and by the time you come back, I should almost be done.”

“Do you want me to grab you something?”

His heart skips a beat when Aaron gives him a small smile. “Nah, that’s alright; thanks, B.”

Billy returns the smile, tidying his side of the table and pushing his chair in before heading to the student center. Should have grabbed a sweatshirt, he thinks as he steps out into the chilly Thursday evening. The setting sun stealing the warmth out of the air, making him shiver.

During his walk to the student center, he contemplates the same thing he has been doing all week, trying to brainstorm how to fix things with Aaron. He hates how stiff things got after he apologized.

The two of them had been hiding outside the house, drinks in hand, as they took a breather from the lacrosse team’s annual Halloween bash. Neither of them had put a lot of effort into their costumes. Billy just wrapped some white tape around a pair of broken sunglasses to be a nerd, and Aaron was Michael Phelps, plastic gold medals around his neck to complete the look.

He looks so hot.

That thought had been the start of Billy’s downfall. After that, all he could do was stare and admire his best friend’s body - his male best friend - as his brain got fuzzier from the alcohol. Then Aaron caught him staring. Normally, he would make a joke, and they’d laugh, move on. But that night, he had just stared back, taking a sip from his red solo cup as brown eyes roamed his body.

A splash of beer dripped down his bare chest as he lowered the cup, soaking into the waistband of his swim trunks. Billy watched the liquid trail down his roommate's solid chest and strong abs of his roommate, only stopping once it was absorbed. When their eyes met again, Billy made the first move.

Lukewarm beer splashed their legs as they collided, and Aaron pushed Billy against the rough siding of the men’s lacrosse house, using his two-inch height advantage. Then they were kissing, tongues intertwining, and hands roaming, unable to get enough.

I’m kissing Aaron. I’m kissing my best friend. God, he’s so warm.

It had been a great kiss, the best kiss of Billy’s life until it got interrupted by his teammate.

“Fritz! Yo! Where are you, dude?” Tansey yells, causing Aaron to pull back enough to breathe. “We need you for pong, man!”

“You should g-”

“We shouldn’t have done that! I’m sorry!”

Aaron freezes, his face shuttering closed like it does whenever his feelings are hurt. A face Billy has never been the cause of in their nine years of friendship.

“What.”

It’s not even a question. There’s no emotion behind it.

“No, not like that!” Billy tries to explain, but his tongue is tied, the alcohol making it hard to think.

“You should go; sounds like they need you.”

Aaron had walked away, rounding the corner and leaving Billy panting against the house, their cups littered by his feet. That’s where Tansey had found him and forced him into a beer pong tournament. He had woken up the next day on the couch, Aaron sitting in the armchair across from him.

He had been kind enough to wait for Billy to finish throwing up before yelling at him. Reminding his best friend how hard it is to be gay and that Billy was the one to make the first move so he doesn’t get to make him feel bad for kissing back.

“I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad.”

“And the best way to do that was by telling me we shouldn’t have done that?”

“I didn’t mean it like that!”

“Then how did you mean it?” Aaron is across their living room, and Fritz wishes he was closer; all the thinking is making his headache worse. “Billy, I need to know what you meant. I need to know if I need to move out.”

“What? You can’t move out!”

“If this isn’t a safe space for me, yes, I do.”

“You’re safe with me! You know that!”

“Am I?”

“Of course! Oh my god, Aaron.” Billy stands up, walking to his best friend. “You’re always safe with me; I’ll keep you safe.”

The twenty-one-year-olds stare at each other, emotions swirling around them. They have been friends since middle school and have dealt with bullies and Aaron’s family ridiculing him for his suspected sexuality. Billy has stood strong next to him the entire time. It had never mattered to Billy who Aaron had a crush on, just that he was happy.

Aaron blinks, his green eyes watery. “Billy, I need to know what you meant.”

He’s been trying to figure out how to answer this question for the last twelve hours; he knew this moment was coming.

“I meant that we shouldn’t have been drunk.”

“You wanted to kiss me?”

“I moved first.”

Aaron absorbs that information, nodding in realization that Billy had been the one to initiate the kiss. “What does that mean for us?”

And this is the moment he hoped wasn’t coming.

“You’re my best friend-”

“If you don’t want anything, just say so.” Aaron harshly cuts him off.

“That was the first time I’ve ever even thought about kissing a guy, Aaron! I don’t know what I want! All I know is I don’t want to lose you. You’re my best friend, and we’re about to graduate. We’re not going to see each other for months, and who knows how much we’ll be able to talk.”

“Yeah, I’m sure they don’t have cell service in Rhode Island.”

“Aaron, c’mon, you know that’s not what I meant. I’ll be going through officer school, then flight school, and you’re gonna be in California, in law school. Those are things that don’t leave a lot of free time. I’m sorry, I don’t know what I want right now. But I couldn’t take it if we weren’t friends.”

Aaron had agreed, not wanting to lose the friendship, but told Billy that he needed space. He had agreed, thinking it would be a few quiet days around the apartment. But now it had been a whole week, and they were still being awkward around each other.

Billy is drowning his sorrows in chicken nuggets when he overhears some freshman girls talking about the horror movie double feature the theatre in town is hosting. It gives him an idea.

“We should have our own marathon!” He tries to convince Aaron on the walk home, hoping that quality time will smooth out the roughness of the past week.

“I don’t like scary movies.”

“I know, but I’ll keep you safe.”

The words leave his mouth in a softer tone than he meant, changing the air around them and stopping them on the sidewalk just outside their apartment building.

“Yeah?”

“Always, Aaron.”

“Okay.”

“Also.” Billy takes a deep breath, aware that he’s about to change things and make them much harder. “I’ve been thinking about it. We should go out tomorrow night.”

“What?”

“I want to take you on a date. You’re my best friend, and I’m pretty sure we’ve been in love for years now.”

“You’re not gay.”

“I don’t think so? I’m still attracted to women. But I want you, Aaron.”

“William.” Aaron breathes his name, the one that’s never used. His mouth opens and closes a few times before he ushers them inside and up to their apartment, not speaking again until the door is locked behind them. “You’re going to be in the Navy. You’ll get kicked out if they catch you!”

“I know. We’ll have to be careful, but not having you at all would be so much worse than having to be quiet about us. And they’re going to repeal DADT someday, and then we won’t have to hide!”

“Billy, I don’t think you’re thinking about this fully.”

“Aaron, all I’ve done this week is think about how to apologize to you and if you’d want to go with me to Sophie’s for dinner tomorrow.”

Aaron blinks at him, wide green eyes the only thing betraying how flustered he feels. “You’re taking me to a pizza place for our first date?”

Billy’s heart feels like it’s going to burst. This time, he’s the one to push Aaron against a wall, trying to pour all his feelings into their second kiss.

“We can go wherever you want to go for dinner.” He pants, smiling so hard his cheeks hurt when Aaron squeezes his waist. “Just as long as you say yes.”

“Pizza is fine, Billy.”

“You’re saying yes?”

“Yes, now c’mere.”

@gretagerwigsmuse | @hangmanapologist | @hangmanbrainrot | @princessphilly | @hangmanssunnies | @thesewordsareallihavetogive | @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby | @katieshook02 | @hellojameshowyadoin | @aristotles-butthole | @atarmychick007 | @whatislovevavy | @kmc1989 | @sometimesanalice | @laracrofted | @yuckosworld | @mika-darling | @bradshawsbaddie | @bobblebobsbae | @ohtobeleah | @withahappyrefrain

[what-gs-watching]

"If you have to ask, you're streets behind."

Welp. This week on What G's Watching: comfort shows.

Because gang, I got (somewhat surprisingly) laid off yesterday. Internal politics, blah blah blah, a lot crying, a lot of beautiful messages from coworkers, some insomnia, more crying, cleaning random things, turning my airpods up as high as they go and screaming through playlists. You get it. 

So if I thought I was watching everything before, just kidding. It's about to get so much worse. Which means, right now, I need comfort shows.

Today's comfort show highlight? Community. A pure and beautiful masterpiece.

Here's the thing: I watched Community from the beginning. Like, when it started airing weekly on NBC in 2009. From the very first episode. Because I'm ancient. I was a fan of Joel McHale from Talk Soup (oh yeah, we're going back that far) and I would have watched him in anything, so I was down for a show about a community college, hell, I'd even gone to one for a little bit.

But it's so much more than that. It's hilarious and real and way too meta for most people and all of the characters are imperfect and ridiculous and some of the plots are so dumb, but it makes you feel things. 

The overall point of the show was that Jeff was a lawyer who lied about having a bachelor's degree and got caught so he goes Greendale Community College to replace it. He lies about having a spanish study group to hook up with a blonde in his class - Britta - and ends up creating an actual study group with the help of Abed, who I'm not gonna lie, might be my favorite character. 

Group of the usual suspects, right: 

- Jeff is the handsome manipulative one (I'm still not quite sure why Joel McHale is handsome, like, its WEIRD but I'm here for it)

- Britta starts out as a chick in her late 20's who maybe got lost along the way and was trying to clean her life up and then she kind of becomes a caricature of herself later on, but it works

- Shirley's a mom going through a divorce, wanting to start her own business

- Pierce is a rich old guy that's been going to Greendale for years just for something to do (Chevy Chase returning to TV, which sounds great but then it gets weird behind the scenes)

- Abed is sweet and magical and likely on the spectrum (and the best unreliable narrator)

- Troy is a former high school football star that suffered an injury (he's Childish Gambino! Before anyone knew he was Childish Gambino! But he will ALWAYS be Troy to me)

- Annie is young and a perfectionist and a control freak who had a pill addiction that landed her there (Allison Brie becoming Allison Brie)

and it starts out as you would assume it should, but it gets unexpectedly hilarious. And I give that credit to Dan Harmon. For his flaws, Dan Harmon is a tortured genius and I will, and mostly do, watch anything that man is involved in. He puts shit in your face that you never wanted but in a way that makes you laugh out loud and then hurt a little bit, for a while. 

Honestly the charm of the show comes from the fact that it never truly takes itself seriously. Abed relates to the world through media (hi it's me, I'm the problem, it's me) and he insists time and again that they're in a tv show. Episode about everyone turning into Zombies because of tainted food at the Halloween dance? Completely plausible. 'Bottle' episode because Annie lost a pen and she can't fucking take it anymore, someone must have stolen it? Yes. Series-running story about the "Ass Crack Bandit" that drops a quarter on you when you least expect it, resulting in one of the best episodes of the later seasons? 100%. 

Abed deciding that by rolling a dice to see who goes down to get the pizza being delivered, six different timelines are being created? That one will knock you on your fucking ass. And it makes no sense, but it really, really does. 

This show has given me a lot of random things that still rattle around in my brain, even now N rewatches deep. Way back when offices were a thing, I'd once shouted "BOOKS!"when it was particularly quiet and a single engineer stood up across the room and just pointed at me, incredulous. After that he and I didn't stop terrorizing the entire team with random quotes. I still find myself humming 'Daybreak' (IYKYK). Yesterday while I muddled through my feelings I started yelling "I'm high as hell and I'm about to get SHOT!" It's infectious, it gets in your bones.  

The best part of course is the relationships, complicated but sweet and endearing. Troy and Abed form a friendship that makes me sad almost because it's childish and pure for a while and it does (what I think, I'm not an expert though so who knows) a pretty good job of portraying the bond that can come out of accepting someone on the spectrum wholly and fully. 

They build a blanket fort. They pretend to have their own morning tv show (🎶Troy and Abed in the mornnnniiiing 🎶). They dress up in coordinated Halloween costumes. They get obsessed with Inspector Spacetime (we're gonna get to Doctor Who, I promise). They spout off the best random Spanish rap and create 'Baby Boomer Santa'. They invent the Dreamatorium. They pillow fight for hours because they think if they stop, their friendship will end. 

The two of them desperately make you wish you had a friend like that in your early twenties to just get real WEIRD with, because they'd always go along with it and have your back no matter what. I still, very much, want to build a blanket slash pillow fort half as majestic. (Which, maybe I should. I have a fuck ton of time right now.)

Honestly, Community is one of those things I sometimes measure people against. Seen it and loved it? You rank a little bit higher with me. Season 4's your least favorite? it's okay bud, we all agree. You wanna use your name in poorly concocted puns? That's you're i-dean-tity, I'm with it. You found something that's streets ahead? YES. Be my best friend.

I know a lot of people feel a certain way about Friends, like, oh they're the friends everyone wishes they had, but I'm sorry. No. The friends you wish you had are the Greendale Seven. And there's too many moments and too much to go into here, but you need to trust me on that. Because they're all just flawed people trying to do better in a flawed place that manifests a little bit of the mania we all feel. And it lets you feel it, but it always wraps you up safe at the end. Jeff always brings it home with a perfect Winger speech. And sometimes I really wish life was a little bit more like that. Because sometimes we suffer a fucking gas leak year in our existence, sometimes it's like that, and it'd be nice if everyone just shrugged that off, if everyone just accepted the fact that we're all flawed, selfish people is actually a strength. 

At one point in the first season, Abed gets obsessed with "The Cape" (which was a real show, y'all) and he's skulking around in this ridiculous get-up and Jeff yells "That show's gonna last three weeks!" and while Abed runs off he yells "SIX SEASONS AND A MOVIE!"

During the show's run, #sixseasonsandamovie became a mantra, because it was always on the brink of cancellation - season six was revived by Yahoo Stream, which isn't even a thing anymore - and I still think about that when I want something to last. I want #sixseasonsandamovie for everything that I love. I want everything to have that little bit of magic and faith. 

I started my latest rewatch a couple of weeks ago, compelled to seek out the comfort for some reason, my brain trying to tell me something was wrong. My brain had been right. So yesterday I eventually climbed into bed with puffy eyes and I got back into season five. I'm already into the part where the show starts to dismantle a bit (the second half of season 5 and all of 6 are distinctly different but still perfect), and that makes sense for me right this second, it's fitting. Sometimes things fall apart. Sometimes people leave. Sometimes you have to clone yourself in a game of 'the floor is lava' so you can properly say goodbye. 

I'll finish it again in the next couple of days I'm sure, and I'll put it down for a while (until the next time my brain is trying to tell me something). But I'll be thankful I had something to turn to while I attempted to sort myself out. 

Greendale is always the perfect place to sort yourself out. 

[izzysarchivedblogs]

"I got you a ring pop." He holds it to the other, it's already out of it's wrapper and everything. Peter was licking his own watermelon sour flavor (is it on his left hand? but his index finger.. what does this mean? nothing of course.)

"Cherry is your favorite right?" It's just an innocent ring pop. Nothing more, nothing less. (Or is it?)

It was at Peter Parker's apartment that he had decided to roost. Taking the stack of papers, tucked in those ugly yellow folders, and brought it HOME ⸻ this place that was no longer precisely a destination; the meaning of the very word changed.

TO FOCUS ON THAT FEELING ⸻ HOME WITH A DIFFERENT MEANING. Clint would find himself pondering, often in moments like this (sitting down, leant over a collection of papers). Today specifically he's at the small table that has been designated the dining table, which on several days was the catch all table.

Clint often disposed many objects at this table, anywhere from packages to arrow-making kits (all to be dealt with at a later). THIS PLACE HAD BECAME A HOME ⸻ But THE HOME was a different place entirely; lacking of, in fact, being a place at all. IT WAS A PERSON, IT WAS BECOMING PETER.

Another one of those things that he pondered was how had he GOTTEN SO LUCKY. It sure wasn't in his nature of luck to end up completely smitten (no, that part was par for the course) but it wasn't in his nature for that to last without any major SCREW UPS or something hindering them.

LIKE ⸻ you know, he wasn't going to get into the old aches. Clint needed to get this paperwork done, because YOU ARE THE TEAM LEADER ⸺ AND ⸺ NEED TO SET AN EXAMPLE. Being all official, government approved and city sanctioned, meant doing paperwork. The Avengers had that too; but the point standing that being all OFFICIAL meant heaps of paperwork.

Actually, he just needed to do this before Helen started holding hostage, or booking him for more interviews (who ever let him open his mouth made a mistake). ⸻ DISTRACTION !!

The front door opens, with Peter wandering in with a few re-usable tote bag in arm, returning from a grocery run. FINALLY ⸻ PETER'S WHINE ABOUT HAVING NOTHING IN THE FRIDGE FOR WEEKS (it's cause he has been mooching off the fridge at their brooklyn home which one of them needed to say something and move in to one apartment or another).

Clint only mumbles a greeting, leaning over to the side that Peter come up on, letting him kiss him before focus is put back onto the paperwork (with much more frustration now). He listens to his talkative love (OH GOSH HOW HE LOVES HIM) go on about three and a half tangents while he restocks his own kitchen. ❝ Oh, yup, that's great, baby. ❞ He'll input here-there, until Peter's back at his side again interrupting Clint's train of thought as he's trying to transcribe Eegro's writing (which why the hell did whatever Eegro was need to write reports as well).

He's doing that crouch that he liked to do, which why hadn't Peter jut pulled up a chair. HE'S SO GODDAMN RIDICULOUS. A red ⸺ A RED RING POP ⸺ is presented in front of him.

"I got you a ring pop."

YES, HE SEES THAT. There's other things that he has clocked because Hawkeye was not literal but to some degree, Clint's trained himself in visual perception. KNOWING HOW TO TAKEN IN A SIGHT, A SCENE, AT A GLANCE. Picking up on small things, points where an arrow might cause a chain reaction, and so on. Something anyone can do with practice. THE OTHER THINGS BEING ⸻ The crouched position at his side, could almost be a kneel if he squinted really tight ⸺ and ⸺ Peter's got his own RING POP on his left hand (index finger but that's probably because it fit better).

"Cherry is your favorite right?"

Clint sets his pen down, which was a poor choice to work with because he's got scribbles of pen ink drawn over his palms whenever the ballpoint would die on him and he couldn't just scribble on government documents. LOOK HE'S TAKING HIS JOB SERIOUSLY (as much as Peter gets to hear Clint bitch about a system he hates, and worrying that he has become a part of the system; mourning the days of old).

IT'S NOT A PROPOSAL ⸻ but there's that smile on Peter's face, all too innocent that makes Clint pause for a moment. THEY HAD JUST CELEBRATED AN ANNIVERSARY NOT ALL THAT LONG AGO. They had been working well enough together, Mayday was walking and talking.

He takes the ring pop, give it a lick. ARIFITICAL FLAVOUR ⸻ HIS FAVORITE.

❝ Oh gosh, is the big bad, be your boyfriend question? ⸺ You know I had thought we were already doing that, I mean what I am doing here? Was I not your boyfriend already? 'Causse if not, boy, do I feel embarrassed. I thought we had a great thing going here. ❞ He jokes, but that was something couples considered after a time and they really did need to have the talk about a permanent living situation. Peter's place was better, Mayday was going to want and need her own room. In the bedroom with Clint and Peter, or the couch was not ideal or permanently situation for a growing kid.

Gosh, who could he ask on the top floor that he move them to lower apartments (his apartment with the loft) and made a lot of barbecue for the neighbors, for some light construction to make a larger apartment on the top for room for. . . FAMILY.

❝ Sure thing, baby, I'll be your boyfriend. ❞ AND MORE, EVENTUALLY. Sooner than later. Keep asking him.

[badedramay]

You know what it is. Breakdown of the Kim and dawood scenes from this week? 😏

you guys..i am in love.

i am in love with the show. i am in love with the characters. i am in love with their dynamics. i am in love with the pacing. i am in love with each and every pixel of the show. i love it i i love it i loveeeee it.

see when you just have LIKABLE characters across the board and you add in a direction and screenplay that emphasizes NOT on the dhoom tana drama but instead chooses to focus on beautifully penned down and peacefully directed conversations...the show just automatically becomes something that keeps you coming back for more. ab now you can either beat the dead horse by complaining about the same "flaws" that have been there since ep1 or accept them as just a reality of this world to focus on all the GOOD this show offers. and this show offers a lot of GOOD food for thought in a very subtle, relatable way without making an entire circus out of it.

Kim&Dawood continue to grow on me but i think after this epi they have me in a chokehold. just the whole CALMNESS they exude in all their interactions and the maturity with which they handle all important topics related to their relationships..it's just so refreshing to watch? i mean i love the push&pull hot&cold chemistry as much as the next person but it's also just so damn NICE to witness a love story developing that does not make use of those dramatic tropes. for weeks I have read praise of Yunhi being all "this has a very old classic PTV drama vibe to it" and today I finally understood WHY that is said for this show. cuz in those dramas the entire chemistry of the characters was built via the conversations they had and the vulnerability they shared with each other. Kim&Dawood do just that. theirs is such an HONEST relationship that leaves, at least until now, no room for misunderstanding. they both are so aware of where they stand in this relationship and what they think will be the end of it. despite them "challenging" each other you just know it's not cuz of any emotion like a veiled hatred they have for each other but because they want the other person to know exactly what they are thinking in that moment so the other person can adjust their expectations. cuz see..it's not like Kim is 100% against the idea of staying with Dawood. and it's not like Dawood will only accept Kim if she 100% changes as per his wishes. all they just want is to be given the chance and space to open up to new possibilities.

which, btw, IS COMPLETELY DIFFERENT FROM WHAT'S HAPPENING IN TB SO FFS STOP SAYING BOTH THE SHOWS ARE SAME!!!!

I was sooooooooo glad that in 14th Kim already confessed that her initial perception of Dawood was wrong and that he isn't a bad guy after all. urgh this show's habit of not letting things stretch is *chef kiss* nazar na lage! their lunch date conversation was so beautifully written. i giggled every time Dawood taunted Kim about her decision to leave and Kim just brushed it all off. it's their inside joke already!!! I feel like Kim continues to test Dawood about his integrity and he passes with flying colors. like when she questioned him if he borrowed his father's money and Dawood replied that between a parent and child there's no such transactional relationship of lending and borrowing. but then he followed by saying that he will still return the money to his father. it's the way Dawood always defends his traditional desi values but also incorporates the liberal western ways of living that impresses Kim. and see! she said so! she put the onus of making her stay behind completely on Dawood's ability to impress her. Kim has many reasons to leave, she doesn't have a reason to stay. and she just needs one. DAWOOD is that reason, she knows it. she just wants him to prove it. AAAAHHH i love it!!! this dynamic is just so..uff!

Kim says their relationship is that of friends and not husband and wife and here i JUST want to say that YES, physical intimacy IS a huge part of a married relationship but relegating it to JUST that is so...isn't it insulting to the entire institute of marriage? how or when do two people choose to consummate their marriage should be completely on THEM and their comfort level. Kim is NOT comfortable with the idea of having a physical relationship with Dawood as she has the complete right to. Dawood wanting to have that relationship but respecting Kim's wishes is also not a sign of weakness in character. in fact it is a mark of a well developed human. humans can control their innate desires if they wish so, that's how God created us. it's difficult but it's not impossible. the running theme with Kim&Dawood is that of TIME. Kim needs TIME to adjust and accept. Dawood is WILLING to give her that TIME. it's beautiful and doesn't need to be negatively criticized BECAUSE even without their lack of physical intimacy..their relationship STILL stands strong. because they have chosen to be FRIENDS first.

and you can already SEE how Kim reacts to Dawood the friend vs how she reacted to Dawood the would-be husband. Kim is aware of the intentions behind touches..PAINFULLY AND TRAUMATICALLY aware of it. Kim lashing out at Dawood for holding her hand to stop her from leaving at the terrace vs Kim opening up to Dawood when he held her hand to say she's his bravest friend (OH GOD THAT SCENE! THAT LINE!! HAD MY HEART WEEPING!!!!)..it's really all about EARNING the right to be that close to Kim. and Dawood continues to earn that right more and more with more time he spends with Kim. it's either cuz he has realized that the way to get to Kim is to not be forceful with her but to gently make her understand or because he's just naturally GOOD at the art of talking.

now the BEST scene of the epi - Kim speaking about her abusive past. can I just applaud Sarwat Nazir and M. Ehteshammudin for writing and executing this scene with SUCH sensitivity and brilliance? AND OF COURSE TO MAYA ALI FOR DELIVERING IT WITH SUCH FINESSE THAT SHE HAD ME WANTING TO GET IN THE SCREEN TO JUST HUG KIM!!!!!! so subtly..with just ONE single line and the appropriate expression of disgust, horror and grief..it made us completely aware of what Kim went through. and suddenly everything about her makes sense. why she thinks negatively of Muslims? why all the research she did on Pakistan was done with the intention of confirmation bias? why she's averse to nonconsensual touches? why she has a black belt and isn't afraid of using it? ONE LINE and we understood it all. na shor..na sharaba..Dawood BLESS HIS HEART AND HIS MATURITY so quickly understood it all and immediately apologized for asking too many questions. and Kim who was confiding in a friend both as like an explanation of her behavior continued on to tell him WHERE her fears are coming from. i loved how after having that talk Kim didn't go to sleep peacefully. the trauma within her still lives on. despite all the defense classes she has taken..her demons have a way of winning.

IT'S JUST SUCH GOOD WRITING????

Kim dressing up for the dawat (MY GOD ABOVE MAYA ALI IS JUST SO BEAUTIFUL I CRYYYY) and Dawood not shying away from complimenting her. but she's just so irritated by the clothes to even bother asdkjhawekaw! it's the very natural scenes like these that make me go all squealing giggling over them and i NEVER thought i'd be doing that for THEM but here we are!!!!! HOW THE TURN TABLES!!!!! but but but thennnn Dawood first saying Kim doesn't have to go to the terrace if she wants a smoke like IMPLICATING that she is free to smoke in the room if she wants however he continues to say smoking isn't good for health and it'd be nice if she dropped this habit. IT'S JUST THE WAY HE PHRASES IT???? NOT ASKING HER NOT REQUESTING HER AND DEFINITELY NOT ORDERING HER! just merely stating a FACT after she has a cough that reminds her of something we allllllllllllllllllllll know and then just SUGGESTING that it'd be good for her if she stopped smoking. not taking away her agency, not taking away her right to decide; just merely giving her an option. that's all Dawood does..he gives Kim the OPTION. an option that broadens horizons for her. an option of a possibility. an option to lead her to a future she doesn't think is possible for her but STILL...it's a option. she can choose to pursue it if she wants. or not. but she can never complain that she was never given the OPTION.

[cabbxges-and-kings]

𝐔𝐍𝐔𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.

i love hearing little headcanons and facts about characters that aren’t usually talked about, so i threw this together. feel free to copy and do yourself!

WHICH WAY DO THEY HANG THE TOILET ROLL, OVER OR UNDER? Abe prefers to roll it under.

HOW DO THEY SLEEP? DO THEY HAVE ANY ROUTINE THEY MUST DO FIRST? DO THEY STEAL THE COVERS, ETC? Usually Abe drinks to wind down before bed, he doesn’t intend to be drunk, and he puts the knife he keeps concealed in his sleeve will be pushed under his pillow. He even does this when he’s home and keeps a flintlock loaded nearby. Abe does have a s.ex addiction and he sometimes partakes in this to silence his mind before bed, but this isn’t always the case for him before bed. He tends to drink more than anything. He also makes sure to look over his root cellar to keep anything incriminating hidden away. Abe tends to sleep on his back, but sometimes he will sleep on his side. Abe sleeps on his side with a hand under his pillow, but with his spy work, he tends to sleep on his back for cautionary reasons. Abe doesn’t sleep that great usually, becoming a light sleeper from his spy work and all of his trauma (especially after his time in prison where he always felt like he had to watch his back after the one guy betrayed him).

HOW DO THEY HOLD A PEN? DO THEY HAVE ANY WRITING QUIRKS? Like most people of this century, he writes in cursive, but he tends to hold his quill tight in his hand. For his spying, he tends to write fast to get all of the intelligence on the page. So he often will really strain his hand and his handwriting can be pretty sloppy with his rushed mannerisms. 

WHAT TRADITIONALLY UNCONVENTIONAL FEATURES DO THEY HAVE? ACNE, CROOKED TEETH, UNIBROW, ETC ETC?* Abe still has the scar on his forehead from the s1e1 episode where he purposely cut his forehead to make it look like he had been robbed on his boat. But Abe has scars on his hands and a few on his body from the time he was stabbed, the various times he has been injured when out spying. I do think for a while after his s3s10 he has scars from being hung that remain for a while. I also imagine Abe has a bit of yellow teeth from his alcohol and coffee habit and has some crooked teeth.

WHAT IS THEIR SHOWER ROUTINE? Abe keeps his baths short. He’s in there enough to fully wash himself, and while he finds it relaxing, his mind is often on what he needs to do afterwards. When in the city and away from home, he feels vulnerable to be in a bath, so he doesn’t spend too long bathing. I think Abe only washes his hair once and is prone to oilier looking hair because he doesn’t always get all of the stuff out of his hair (the soap and whatnot). He likes baths late at night since it can also be a way for him to wind down before bed and it feels more refreshing/cleanlier in his mind to bath after a long day than in the morning.

HOW DO THEY DEAL WITH ILLNESS? Abe denies he’s sick for a while. He hardly ever gets sick and he has a good immune system. But when he’s sick, he gets hit heavy with it. But with his spying, he always tries to ignore any sickness to get his job done for the cause, to provide for Thomas. Eventually, though, it’s usually Mary (or the rare chance, Anna) that convinces him to rest and deal with his sickness than avoid it because he gets more sloppy, more frustrated and temperamental since he ignores to look after himself when sick.

ARE THEY A VISUAL LEARNER? KINESTHETIC LEARNER? AUDITORY LEARNER? I think Abe is an kinesthetic learner. He learns best when he’s using his hands, which may have been a reason why he choose farming. Abe leans best when he can work on something himself, since usually, he thinks he has the right idea anyway with his stubbornness. I would also say Abe can potentially also be an auditory learner with his spying thing since he has to listen in on people.

WHAT DO THEIR HANDS LOOK LIKE? Rough for coming from a privileged and wealthy family because of his farming. His hands are often dirty to some extent, especially if he has been out in the fields, and it’s in the winter when his hands clear up a little bit since he’s not out farming. His hands are a bit coarse and rough, but actually, they are softer than what you expect for his job just because Abe has only been farming recently (in the turn timeline).

WHAT MUNDANE BAD HABITS DO THEY HAVE? DO THEY ALWAYS LET FOOD EXPIRE? DON’T WASH THEIR HANDS? CHEW WITH THEIR MOUTH OPEN, ETC? Abe does have the mindset that in the bathroom (probably a more modern day thing), if he didn’t touch absolutely anything -- he doesn’t need to wash his hands. So sometimes he’ll exit the bathroom without washing his hands sometimes. Abe drinks a lot and he tends to get drunk or buzzed most night before bed. 

HOW DO THEY USUALLY SPEND THEIR BIRTHDAY? In his adulthood, his birthday isn’t all that important. I think his birthday was one of the times him and Richard got along since he was more laidback and tolerable when it came to Abe’s birthday. With their strained relationship now, that’s often not the case. For is birthday, usually he would have breakfast at Whitehall and then partake in his day as usual. I don’t think he would take a break from spying with Abe’s whole determination and stubbornness, but I think he would spend more time Mary and Thomas that day.

WHAT IS ONE COMMON MISCONCEPTION OR INCORRECT FACT THAT COMPLETELY BELIEVE? I’m not sure honestly. I do think Abe has a privileged mindset that even when he dealt with his money problems, he believes that almost anyone can make a ton of money and rise the ranks of their social class if they work hard enough, regardless of their circumstances. Even if Abe dealt with money issues himself, he always had Richard there for a safety blanket to give him money if he really needed it. It’s just his own stubbornness that he wouldn’t take it. And because of his father’s favorable reputation in the community, I feel like that influenced people lending Abe money and all of the debts he has. Basically, he believes anyone can be rich and favored in a community, regardless of their circumstances and dismisses the factors that keep people in poverty.

WHAT ARE THEIR RED FLAGS OR #CANCELLABLE TRAIT? Oh god, where do you even start with Abe? Abe is a walking red flag, but I do have a bit of sympathy for Abe. He’s trying and his general movitiation of doing this for his son’s future is admirable. It just often comes out wrong with rash, reckless actions, his anger issues and stubbornness, and the whole affair. Basically everything about Abe lmao.

ARE THEY THE TYPE TO MAKE A SHOPPING LIST, GET WHAT THEY WANT AND LEAVE OR DO THEY MEANDER? DO THEY TRY TO CARRY ALL THEIR BAGS AT ONCE OR BREAK IT UP? Abe prefers not to make a shopping list. Abe has a pretty good memory, even if his lies are inconsistent sometimes. So usually, he meanders around the store or has a pretty good idea in his mind what he wants to get.

WHAT IS THEIR GO TO CURSE WORD? I think Abe uses a lot of different swear words, so I don’t think he has one he uses most frequently. Maybe “Shit”? idk.

WHAT DO THEY COLLECT? CANDLES, BOTTLES, COINS, SHINY ROCKS, ETC? When Abe was younger, he would collect wooden figurines. It was to play with, but eventually, in his teenage years, he started collecting them just to have them. He still has these and still collects figurines as a habit from his childhood, but also for Thomas to have. Around his room, in his childhood, he collected a few cool looking rocks and seashells.

WHAT IS ONE CONSPIRACY THEORY THEY BELIEVE IN? I honestly have no idea. Conspiracy theories has been around forever, but I can’t think of any for the 18th century. I would say in a modern au, Abe does believe in aliens to some extent.

DO THEY LIKE TO PLAN THINGS IN ADVANCE OR ARE THEY THE TYPE TO SHOW UP SOMEWHERE UNINVITED? It depends. Abe thinks he works best in the moment without any previous planning, but even despite this, he does know that a plan is better than nothing. He sometimes doesn’t stick to the plan in his mind or what you would call a “plan” isn’t that extensive at all, it’s just an idea in his head if everything goes in his favor. Usually, I would say he shows up somewhere uninvited, but usually he has a plan in mind on what to do or say. 

WHAT’S ONE THING THEY THINK THEY’RE TALENTED AT THAT THEY REALLY, REALLY AREN’T? I’m conflicted on this, but likely working with instinct/in the moment. Abe can lie really well in the moment and make it sound genuine, but acting recklessly in the moment is also his downfall. He thinks he’s better at going with the motion than planning ahead than he is and it only ever served him well a few times and harmed him a lot more in other times. I always say that Abe can lie really well, but he struggles with the longevity of a lie (unless it’s the whole Rogers is Culper thing). 

[veinsandknuckles]

Reflect what you are, pt 2

Abed Nadir/Autistic f!Reader. In love and at a loss, Abed turns to self professed woman-expert Jeff Winger for advice with mixed results. Part 1 Rated: pg Warnings: casual ableism, casual sexism, autistic stereotypes, reference to the The Big Bang Theory. If I’ve missed anything, let me know. This fic hasn’t been BETA’d. As a disclaimer, I’ll say upfront that the reader insert’s experiences with and outward signs of autism are based on my own. It’s always impossible to write a reader insert neutrally enough to be projected onto by everyone and I think that’s especially true when portraying a disability that is at once so specific and so varied.  ——–

“...I think I’m in love.”

“Really.” Jeff didn’t look up from his phone.

Abed wasn’t sure why he’d picked Jeff as the right person to talk to. Perhaps it was just because Jeff had lingered in the study room after their last session, leaving them alone in the room, and if Abed didn’t tell someone, anyone, he might literally explode. “Yes. Definitely. I show all the classic signs.”

Jeff didn’t respond. Had his sarcastic, disinterested tone been more pointed than usual? It was hard to tell.

“Did you already know I’m in love?”

“With what’s-her-name, your new study buddy?” Jeff gave Abed a look. “Uh, yeah. I’m pretty sure everyone knows.”

“Oh.” Abed tapped his pen against the table and thought this over. “Do I talk about her a lot?”

“Not really, but we know you. It’s pretty suspicious if you take an interest in anyone who isn’t a fictional character.” Jeff put his phone down and leaned his elbows on the table. “Does this mean you’ve finally come to me for dating advice? It’s about time.”

“Normally, I wouldn’t need advice...”

Jeff’s eyes narrowed. “Because women throw themselves at you, for some reason.” He sounded resentful. “Yeah, I remember.”

“And usually I don’t really care either way.” Perhaps this wasn’t the best approach if he wanted Jeff’s help, but it was the truth. “I mean, the attention is nice, but it’s not important.”

“Well, if you’re ‘in love’” (here, Jeff made so many air quotes he threatened to sprain a finger) “that’s a whole different story.”

“Yeah. I’d be pretty upset if she didn’t like me back.”

“I’m sure. So what have you tried so far?”

“Hm.” What had he tried? Shockingly little, now that he came to think about it. “I’ve talked to her a little. We’re working on a project together for class. Oh, and yesterday I threatened to beat a guy up for disrespecting her.”

There was a long pause. “See, this is why you should come to me for inspiration instead of turning to the movies.”

“Yeah, but it was warranted. He’s a bully.”

“Yeah, but still. I never figured you’d go for the caveman approach.”

Abed shrugged. “I don’t really have an approach.”

“Yeah, we established that. So what’s this girl like?”

“I think she’s autistic.”

Jeff’s eyes widened and his mouth seemed to twitch. He didn’t make a face, but it seemed to take him some effort not to make a face. What was he trying to hide? Surprise? A lack of surprise? Amusement? Ridicule? Probably not envy, but what did Jeff know?

“Abed, that’s not a very nice way to sum up a person. We taught you better than that.”

Abed had it on pretty good authority that Jeff had pointed him out to strangers as ‘the robot’ and ‘just don’t call him Sheldon’ several times just this month, but for some reason, people tended to get uncomfortable if the spade joined in and also started calling itself a spade.

“Okay, this is clearly a sensitive issue for you. If I tell you she’s also beautiful and funny and attentive and kind and clever and beautiful, does that make you feel better?”

“That’s a pretty long list.” Jeff smiled. “Beautiful made it in twice, huh?”

It was a fair summary as far as Abed was concerned, repetition included, but Jeff needed to be brought down a peg or two.“I thought that would reassure you.”

Jeff stopped smiling. “Whatever. So if you care so much about her supposed personality, what do you guys actually have in common? Apart from, you know. The A word.”

“I’m not sure. We both pay attention in class, so we already have some similar interests.”

“Okay, so get her talking about those. Women love it when you pretend to care about their dumb opinions.”

Abed was very much convinced that this was not an uniquely female trait and he knew that if he chose to make a rebuttal, Jeff himself would make for an excellent exhibit A. But Jeff depended on his 90’s stand up comedian understanding of gender roles and it would be unfair to take that comfort away from him. Instead, he chose diplomacy. “If she has dumb opinions, I’ll lose interest. Even if she’s beautiful twice.”

“Yeah, you’re weird like that.”

“But I get shy around her, and I’m not used to being shy. I try to plan our conversations in advance, but then when I talk to her I forget everything I was going to say... And I don’t want to pretend to be someone else.”

“You’re overthinking this. Just go up to her and talk, ask more questions than you give answers and if she smiles and laughs at your jokes...” Jeff thought about it, then shook his head. “Huh. Yeah, I see the problem. You still can’t really read anyone. Even I can’t read you and I’m a master manipulator who’s known you for years. If she’s like you...” He seemed at a loss for words. “Don’t you have, like, a secret language or something? Bleep, bloop, Star Trek good?”

How should Abed know? It wasn’t like he’d been ushered into a secret society or subscribed to the local autism mailing list. Maybe there actually was a club and he just hadn’t been invited - that would be a fun, ironic twist. “Not one I know of.” The trekkie accusation he filed away for a later argument.

“Alright. So, when she’s happy or annoyed or on the rag, can you even tell?”

“I think so.”

Abed worried that Jeff misinterpreted the reason for his interest. He couldn’t tell if Jeff wanted to over or under emphasise the autism part, but he could tell Jeff didn’t get it. Sure, it was exciting to meet someone who functioned the way he did, but not because he expected or even wanted you to be a copy of himself. He wasn’t looking for the comedy staple where the weirdo, slash robot, slash dog’s love interest was played by the same actor, slash costume, slash dog in a wig or a pink bow. He was just as desperate to explore all your differences as your possible similarities, and the disability thing was just a small part of that. And he’d underplayed the “beautiful” part, but your mind really was not the only thing he wanted to explore. After all, you’d already turned his head months before he’d realised what you shared.

It dawned on Abed that he really would be just as excited to talk to you if the topics you chose made no sense to him - whatever you said would interest him, simply because you were the one talking. And if he ever accidentally tuned you out, he’d be happy just to watch your lips move.

How could he even begin to explain all of this? Or any of it? If Jeff had ever felt the same way, he would never admit to it.

“She emotes a lot.” By Abed’s standards, anyway. “I don’t think most people can really tell she’s autistic.”

“Why are you so fixated on this?”

“Well, in this case, I mean I think she’s more of a people person than I am. She blends in better than I do and that would take a lot of practice.” He paused. “I never really made friends before I got to Greendale, but...”

“You’re worried you might have some competition?”

Abed shook his head. If anything, competition would be reassuring. But why? “I don’t want her to like me because she has no other option. I want her to choose me.” If that was true, why did admitting it make his stomach feel so cold? Abed swallowed and voiced a fear he hadn’t even been conscious of before. “I’m worried I might be too weird for her.”

Now Jeff made a face even Abed could recognise, if only because he’d seen it so often over the years. It was a face of pained, awkward pity.

Abed was seriously starting to regret being so honest, especially with someone who clearly still expected him to be more ashamed of himself than he really was.  

But Jeff surprised him and his expression changed gradually into a less familiar smile. “Yeah... I think we all feel like that sometimes. I mean, not me, obviously.” Abed nodded and Jeff continued. “I hate to be a cliché, but if you absolutely have to be in love, I really think you should just try to be yourself. If she doesn’t like you, it’s better you rip the band-aid off quickly.” He reached out as if to give Abed a pat on the shoulder but seemed to think better of it and let his hand fall. “Who knows, she might like you better for being a bit weird - I know I get sick of hanging out with normal people all the time. Whatever that means.”

Abed nodded. Especially the band-aid argument appealed to him. Right now he felt that if he didn’t either get to touch you or let go of this obsession within the week, he’d just wither up and die. Wow. He might actually have to resort to a weekend of 80’s rom coms, either to look for inspiration for some big dramatic gesture of his own, or to do what most people probably did when they watched rom coms - daydream about his own crush and imagine you and him up there on the screen instead, kissing and holding on to each other for dear life while the music swelled and the rain pored.  This was so much worse than he’d thought.

[cat-loves-music]

Exercise

Prompt: “Can we please stop running? I think I’m dying.”

Setting: FBI training course (Season 9 Episode 18 "Rabid")

Request: No

POV: Y/n

Words: 848

~•~•~•~•~♡~•~•~•~•~

I don't know how long it's been since we started running but all I know is that my legs are burning from the exercise. Spencer and Penelope stop a few feet ahead of me, trying to catch their breath. Catching up to them, I fall to my knees and lay down on the grass.

"8:49. Good God that's not even close," Garcia pants, her breathing heavy

Spence comments, "Why does it have to be such a fast mile?"

"I don't know but this is the most exercise that I've had to do in my life," I complain, the warm sunlight streaming on my face.

"Have y'all ever had to run a mile in the field?" Pen questions.

"Nope," I answer, "not even close."

"I'm not even in the field," she continues, "I sit at a computer on my perfect posterior like all day."

"Maybe we should ask Morgan for help?" Spencer suggests.

"No," Garcia replies.

"Absolutely not," I say as I sit up, my muscles aching, "he'd just make it harder than it already is."

I look over at Garcia, who is trying to stifle a laugh and I playfully glare at her, "Don't even."

She shrugs and laughs, "It's not my fault you said something that can be dirty if you put the right mind to it."

I shake my head in disappointment and Spencer pants as he continues, "But he has really good abs."

I lay back down, "Amen to that."

"Yes he does, but it’s bad enough some bureaucrat is making us take this stupid test," Garcia adds, "the last thing we need it Mr. Universe talking smack the whole time."

"He does know about this stuff, but then again we're already struggling enough," I said.

"He could probably like, teach us tricks and help us train," Spencer replies.

"We aren't dogs, Spence," I chuckle then groan in pain, "oh my lungs."

"I just hope the P.T. instructor isn't a jerk," Garica states, "those jock guys are always jerks."

"Don't jinx it Pen, we don't need that kind of karma," I replied.

"Uh oh, here he comes," Penelope says as she points to the hooded man who was walking towards us, "and such a total jerk walk too."

"If that's Morgan, I swear to everything on this earth I'm gonna kill somebody," I groan, "and it's gonna be him if he makes us do more exercise."

He gets closer and of course I probably jinxed it since it's most definitely Morgan.

"Hello ladies, how we doin'?" Morgan asks.

"No offense but why are you here?" I asked.

"Looks like I'm your new P.T. instructor," he chuckles.

All three of us groan.

"Oh no, don't give me that," Morgan laughs, "you know, you guys should have said something. I could have had the whole thing waived."

"How were we supposed to know?" Spence asks.

Morgan shrugs with an evil grin on his face.

"Too late now I suppose," I sighed, "let's get this mile over with."

"You didn’t hear?" Morgan starts. "The fit test is more than a mile."

My heart sinks, You've gotta be kidding me.

"Let’s go, let's go!" Morgan encourages as he makes us do so much grueling exercise.

We had to run up and down the bleachers and do agility tests just to name a few. We still had a run to do, but my muscles burned, my body felt numb, and I could barely breathe. Spencer, Penelope, and I collapsed on the ground, our breathing heavy.

"Can we please stop running? I think I'm dying?" I complain.

"Hey, hey, what’s with all this huffin' and puffin'? We still got a 2 mile run to do," Morgan informed.

"Morgan–I love you–you know I do, but there’s no way in hell my ass is doing that today," I replied, my voice a bit hoarse from lack of air.

"What she said," Spencer added.

Morgan laughs, "Alright, I guess it's time for me to let the cat out of the bag."

My body tried to sit up to look at him, but it quickly refused, my back hitting the ground to catch my breath.

"I kinda already had your fitness test waived," he trailed off, a cheeky smile on his face.

"What?" Spencer asked, confused.

"I mean come on, Babygirl, you're not even in the field," Morgan explains, "and you guys already have enough hours to qualify."

"If my legs didn't feel like jelly, I would kill you," I stated.

"Oh I'm gonna kill him," Garcia replies trying to tackle him.

"If I can manage to lift my arms, I'll hold him down," Spencer promises.

I finally manage to sit up, "I'll join ya in a minute. I'm regaining my strength."

Well more like watch the show of Spencer and Penelope trying to chase Morgan around the field was a better pastime than actually joining in.

"Waiting for you, Y/n!" Spencer calls out.

I laugh, "Comin'!"

I get up and try my best to tackles Morgan, but Garcia manages to first and we all fall to the ground in laughter.

//////////////////////////////////////♡\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Hiiii guys! Hope you liked it! I've been working on this for a while but I finally finished it. I should have a masterlist of all my works on Tumblr soon. Maybe even some new works I might have in store than I need to work on. Love y'all!

[papergirllife]

Lee Jeno

'You ease Jeno's frustrations during a late night recording session."

Warnings : unprotected sex, cockwarming, generally quite fluffy.

Word count : 1.8k

You were in your pajamas at 1 a.m. in the morning, still in the company because your boyfriend is trying to record the best version of his verse in the recording booth a few feet away, his black denim jacket draped across your chest to shield you from the cold.

You were going through your own lyrics, making a few changes here and there to make sure the flow of the song suits you, working in a low volume to avoid disturbing Jeno, who was already getting antsy from this certain verse.

When you were done, you placed the pencil on the desk and got up from your seat, walking to the booth where Jeno had his handsome face in a frown.

“You okay, Jeno? Aren’t you cold in here?” you asked as you took his jacket off of you, draping it back onto his broad shoulders.

“I'm feeling fine, you should use it,” Jeno said shortly before he takes it off, putting it onto you again.

“But you're just in a tank, and you have to perform on stages very soon, you can't catch a cold,” you argued before trying to take it off once more, only to be stopped by Jeno’s hands.

“I'm fine, you're the one who's sensitive to the cold, I don't want you to get sick because of me, I didn't ask for you to be here with me, and still you showered and came back here to be with me, I'm sorry for eating up our time, I know I promised to have a night in with you,” Jeno said with a sad tinge to his usually cheerful eyes before reaching out for you, embracing you into his warmth.

“I know how important this comeback is for you, I wanted to stay here with you because I'm stubborn and that's on me, not you,” you said before turning your body to tuck yourself closer into Jeno, giving his bicep a quick peck before burying your head into his neck, the familiar scent of cologne filling your lungs.

Jeno let's out a chuckle at this odd but familiar action, you started doing this since the day Jeno had started working out on his arms more, every little thing he does you’d always be proud of it, which is why you're so different from everyone else, Jeno feels safe with you, the fact that the both of you absolutely adore each other irks his members out, but he doesn’t care, not when he only has eyes for you.

“I love you,” Jeno said without hesitation, it's always been like this for the two of you, saying these three words whenever you felt like it, communication between the two of you has always been good, though it hasn't always been like this.

There was a time at the beginning of the relationship where Jeno only knew how to show his love through actions, fearing that it may seem too pushy if he constantly speaks up about his emotions, being a guy and all, but your reassurance of loving to hear everything he has to say, as well as those doe eyes of yours that always have a hundred percent focus on him, had given him a sense of comfort, and so he now speaks whatever that comes to mind when he's with you, most often 'I love yous', it could be in the morning when you wake up, or moments like this where there are uncertainties in his head, you’re his rock.

“I love you too, Jeno,” you said it back before pulling away slightly to kiss him, pulling him closer again by looping your hands around his nape, playing with the strands of hair there as you bit on his bottom lip gently before feeling a sudden grip on your hip, a gasp falling from your lips just to give Jeno the opportunity to dominate the kiss, getting you right where he wanted you to be, under his control.

Jeno tasted like the chocolate mint balls he was having just now, a mixture of sweet chocolate and invigorating mint clouding your senses, the taste so addictive that you licked at his tongue just to taste more, but soon Jeno pulled away, noticing that you were running out of breath, your forehead lolled against his, a sign that he was all too familiar with.

“Slow down, baby, what's got you so worked up?” Jeno asked as he peppers kisses down your neck sloppily, he knows he can't mark you without your manager lecturing you, so he'll just have to manoeuvre himself to the valley of your breasts, popping open the buttons of your pajamas to reveal that you've worn a set that had no padding, the tips of your nipples would've been obvious it weren't for how loose your shirt was.

“Remember the last time we fucked in here? You had a writer’s block for stronger and 119, I want to be your muse again, Jen,” you reminded him as you trailed your hand at the hem of his tank, palming his abs that you go crazy over, you must be the luckiest girl ever, to find a guy who’s as hot as he’s talented in his career, not to mention the sinful things he does with those dancer hips.

Jeno chuckled at that fond memory, recalling Jaemin’s horrid expression when he found the two of you in such a state.

“You do know that this is ANL right?” gesturing at the lyrics on the stand.

“Which is a highly suggestive yet quite a fluffy song, we have to set the mood in order for you to actually gain some inspiration, no?” you said before you pulled off his shirt, throwing it somewhere behind you.

“Greedy aren't you?” Jeno said as he tips your chin higher to get a good look at you in the dim lights, admiring your swollen lips and the lust in your eyes, all because of him.

“Well, you can't pen my name down for these songs, the least you can do is give me a good fuck to remember it by,” you said with those seductive eyes of yours looking into his hooded ones before reaching down his pants, a jolt from his cock at your freezing hands.

“Whatever my baby wants, whatever she gets am I right?” Jeno said before manoeuvring you to your back facing his, letting your ass feel his hard on.

You placed your hands on the stool that Jeno previously sat in, arching your back for him to easily access the situation.

Jeno pulls your sweats and panties down hanging them onto the stand, you purse your lips at the sight, hoping that none of your arousal gets onto the surface, but before you could make up your mind whether to tell Jeno to place your clothing somewhere else, Jeno had spread your folds with two fingers, a hand coming up to swipe at your slit teasingly before pinching your clit lightly in between his thumb and index finger, combing a moan out of you, legs jolting at the sudden pleasure, you were always sensitive there.

“Fuck, baby, I barely touched you and you’re dripping wet, didn't know you were this worked up,” Jeno said by your ear, his voice a few octaves lower.

Jeno enters two fingers in one go, making you buckle your knees at the sudden intrusion, not expecting it so soon, the feeling of his rough finger pads reaching deep into you, searching for that one spot, and when he found it, it felt like the first taste of heaven, a whimper falling from your lips as you held onto the stool harder, preparing for what's to come.

Jeno thrusted his fingers in a moderate pace before sliding in a third, making a scissoring motion to open you up for his large cock.

When he deemed that you were wet enough, Jeno shoved his pants and boxers down to his knees, impatient for the warmth in between your legs.

Jeno positioned himself at your entrance, pushing in an inch before slamming himself into you.

“Fuck, Jeno!” you could feel how full you were now, and how he fits perfectly inside you, his tip dangerously close to your sweet spot, you just need him to move.

“Jeno, you can move now, please,” you begged, breathless as your mind is still registering the feeling of this euphoria.

Jeno clenches his jaw in concentration before pulling out of your sweet pussy slightly, before thrusting back in, starting a quick and shallow pace, the way your warm walls were clenching onto him was making him lightheaded from the immense pleasure, but he knows he has to get his shit together if he wants to actually finish up recording tonight.

Jeno grips onto your hips as he builds up his pace, pistoning his dick inside of you hard and fast as he hears your screams of pleasure, the sound echoing in this small booth, encouraging him to go faster as he gets addicted to this sweet melody.

You held onto the stool for your dear life as you felt the knot in your abdomen slowly unwinding, a sign that you’re nearing your edge.

“I'm gonna cum, Jen, cum with me, please,” you said before purposely clenching onto his dick.

“Fuck, baby, I’m not gonna last any longer if you keep doing that,” Jeno said in one breath, before focusing back onto chasing both your highs, a hand moving to your breasts to pinch your nipples with the perfect amount of pain, he knows how much of a pain slut you are for him, and that was exactly what pushed you over the edge.

You felt your body convulsing as you orgasmed, the knot snapping free as the screams of Jeno’s name tumble from your lips as you let Jeno continue.

Jeno came only a few sloppy thrusts, after you, biting onto your shoulder as he came, giving a few hard thrusts to ride out both your highs, and just so he could bury his cum inside you, letting both your juices mix.

When both of you were done, Jeno moved your limp body expertly on top of his as he took a seat onto the stool, him still inside of you, your head tucked by his left shoulder, picking up where he had left off just now.

“You're right baby, you really are my muse,” Jeno said before humming a tune, then correcting some errors on the sheet.

“Well, good to know I was helpful, now if you'll excuse me, I need to clean up,” you said before trying to get up.

Jeno's left hand grips onto your hips, restricting you from leaving.

“Stay for a bit, I'm finishing up soon, then I'll clean you up, I'm sure you’re too tired to walk now, get some rest,” Jeno said as he pats your head gently, something he does that oddly lulls you to sleep.

“Okay, just don't overwork yourself,” you said before drifting off to sleep on your boyfriend’s shoulder, your very own human pillow.

[yee-fxcking-haw]

•Cross The Line•

Summary: “And they were roommates” predictable self induldent Denki roommate content lmao. Friends to lovers, pretty fluffy

Pairing: Denki Kaminari x FemReader (both 18+)

Warnings: Itty bitty angst, Lots o’ tension, Unprotected sex, Oral sex (female receiving), Quirk use during sex, Cumplay.

Word count: 6,984

A/N: Y'all I did it I wrote mostly plot are y'all proud of me for not being useless and horni for one fic. I mean it gets horni at the end but there is plot so yeehaw.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Son of a bitch!” You yell as you hurl the eyeliner across the bathroom, at your wits end after messing up for the third time. It hits the door with a sharp crack before it falls to the floor.

You kick the cabinet, successfully stubbing your toe in the process.

“Shit, shit shit shit.” You tumble backwards as you hop on one foot, planting your ass right on the toilet lid with a loud groan.

“You remodeling in here?” A chirpy voice says from the other side of the door.

“Fuck off, Denki.” You bark as you hold your busted toe.

He just chuckles as he opens the door and strides in, he leans back against the counter and crosses his arms while you scowl up at him.

His signature smirk is painted across his face, yellow hair sticking up in every direction. As usual, he’s going without a shirt, leaving him in just a pair of loose basketball shorts.

They hang just a little too low, exposing the waistband of his briefs, framing his defined adonis belt…

“You’re gonna need a bucket for all that drool.” He says, raising his eyebrows as his smirk grows into a smile.

“Oh please, I was noticing how scrawny you look.” You retort, letting your foot drop to the floor so you can stand.

“You got a date?” He nods at your dress, eyes lingering at the slit that exposes just a little too much thigh.

You and Denki are just roommates, that’s it. You’re also both incredibly horny, bisexual disasters. Naturally, there’s attraction, lingering stares, and moments of tension, but it never goes past that.

Just roommates. You can’t cross that line. Kirishima had introduced you two after meeting in class one day, convinced you would hit it off. You sure as hell did. You cliqued pretty much instantly, both full of chaotic dumbass energy.

Eventually, Kirishima moved in with his boyfriend, Katsuki Bakugo. This left Denki with no roommate, which meant you got an invitation.

You were hesitant at first, moving in with somebody after a few months of friendship was a big step, but you and Denki just worked. Neither of you kept a schedule, you shared one brain cell, and you always made each other laugh.

So, of course you moved in. Two years later, it’s still you and Denki against the world. You take care of each other, he’ll bring you candy and a heating pad when you’re on your period, you’ll make him soup and play with his hair when he’s sick.

You’ve seen each other naked, heard each other have sex, and helped each other score hookups. You pick each other up when you’re sloppy drunk, and nurse each other through the hangover the next day.

You have not, and will not, cross the line of a sexual relationship with each other. You can’t afford to, neither of you can lose the movie nights, the screaming bad music in the car together, or the two in the morning waffle house runs.

“I did, but I’m not going.” You huff as you stomp over to the sink so you can wash off the makeup.

“I can’t get this stupid eyeliner right, I’ve tried like a million times and I can’t fucking do it.” You scrub your face a little too hard, turning your skin a bit red in the process.

“Want me to do it?” He asks, he says it like it’s obvious. It kind of is, the kid is wicked good at eyeliner, he does it nearly every day.

“If you pinky promise you won’t make me look stupid and sabotage my date.” You glare at him, hinting at a time when he did in fact sabotage a date.

“That was one time, which you thanked me for in the end, because the dude was a total fuckboy.” He holds up his hands in a defensive posture.

“You’re a total fuckboy, and you did not have to tell him I had fucking herpes.” You throw your wet rag at him, which he catches skillfully.

“I’m a whore, not a fuckboy. Big difference.” He says as he tosses the rag onto the side of the sink.

“What would that be?” You ask as you bend down to retrieve the eyeliner before handing it to him begrudgingly.

He accepts it with a grin, golden eyes lighting up as he pulls the cap off of the felt pen before giving it a good shake.

“Fuckboys are so selfish, they always leave someone wanting.” He shifts so he’s standing in front of you as you lean back against the counter.

He places one hand under your chin so you’ll tilt your face up for him.

“A whore keeps someone satisfied.” His voice drops slightly as he looks down at you.

You don’t look down at his lips, or his collar bones, or his abs…

“You’re such a flirt.” You say, crossing your arms, trying to put something between the two of you.

“Hell yeah I am, now close those eyes for me.” He winks and you roll your eyes before closing them.

His hand slides up from your chin so you can hold the side of your face, his thumb lifts your eyelid slightly.

The feeling of his hand touching your face so gently shouldn’t make your heart rate increase, the feeling of his breath on your face shouldn’t make your knees a little unsteady. Most of all, Denki being this close shouldn’t be making you this dizzy.

You’ve walked in on him jerking it, you’ve even walked in on him balls deep in somebody else. You and Denki are close, you’ve stood this close before, with less clothing, why does it all of a sudden feel so different? No, it doesn’t. It can’t.

You feel the felt tip of the eyeliner press into your eyelid, he moves so fluently. He flicks his wrist at the end of the line, he shifts and does the other eye with the same precision.

“Open.” You do as he says, blinking up at him, raising your eyebrows in question as he looks you over.

A pleased smile creeps onto his face.

“You’re real pretty, ya know?” He says softly, grabbing your chin gently so he can turn your face from one side to the other.

The compliment makes your cheeks grow warmer. Your eyes dart down as you shift on your feet a little bit.

“You’re a sap.” You grumble before turning to check his work in the mirror.

It’s perfect, just a delicate little wing that enhances your eye shape. Perfect for a first date, Denki has always been better at makeup, and it’s always driven you just a little insane.

“What else are you gonna do?” He asks, making eye contact with you through the mirror.

“What do you mean?” You say as you grab your mascara and start applying it.

“Well are you gonna do anything with this?” He ruffles the top of your hair, you drop the mascara so you can bat his hand away.

“Dude, knock it off.” You say, you try to sound pissed, but start laughing when he wraps his arm around your neck so he can put you in a headlock.

“Only if you let me fix the rat’s nest on your head.” He laughs as you struggle to pull his arm off.

“I can do my own hair you sparky bastard.” You reach over and pinch his side.

He yelps and releases you from the hold, he raises his hands up and gives you a mischievous look.

“Oh, you want sparky?” Small snaps of electricity start to emit from his palms.

“Denki Kaminari, if you zap me I will suplex you.” You warn him, looking around for something you can grab to defend yourself with.

He’s much quicker than you though, and his arms around your waist in an instant. He hoists you up into the air and sits your ass on the counter. You feel the little shocks popping at your sides as he pushes you so your back is pressed against the mirror. Your senses are invaded by his warmth and the smell of Axe body spray, a smell you’ve grown to love.

“Denki, no! This shit always makes my hair all frizzy!” You protest as involuntary giggles leave your chest.

“Aw, sweetheart, are you sayin’ you can feel electricity between us?” He wiggles his eyebrows as his fingers stall.

“I will puke on you if you say any more cheesy shit.” You warn him, trying to keep your face straight, but you crack up at the melodramatic expression that crosses his face.

Then he delivers a particularly strong zap to the meat of your hip.

You don’t have time to control the way your body reacts. There’s no chance for you to keep your back arches, or the way you let out a fuck. The way you shiver is a little too intimate, your voice a little too broken. All of which Denki pays a little too much attention to.

You both settle and freeze, his sharp eyes meet yours. You’ve seen Denki Kaminari look serious a grand total of twice in the time you’ve known him. The first time was when you were ridiculously sick last winter, fever and chill with the works. The second time is now.

He watches you carefully, one eyebrow shooting up.

“Did that tickle?” He questions, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“It- yeah- it also fucking hurt, asshole.” You grumble, pushing at his chest so you can hop off the counter.

You try to shove past him with your head down, desperate to get out from under the weighty tension in the bathroom. Denki grabs you around the wrist though, stopping you in your tracks.

Your eyes meet as another wave of nerves washes over your body.

“Are we gonna talk about it?” His voice is steady, but tentative.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Your voice is just above a whisper.

Though, there certainly was.

You both stand there for a brief beat of thick silence, watching, waiting. You must imagine the way his lip twitches, the way his body shifts forward slightly…

No fucking way.

You turn on your heels and make your way out of the bathroom quickly.

You’re in your room with the door closed in no time. You lean against the back of it, catching the breath you didn’t realize you had lost.

What the hell was that? And why did it feel so… good?

No. Fuck no. Not with Denki.

You get ready in a huff, positively full of angst and confusion.

You shove it all down. It’s normal, right? To have a bit of tension with somebody you know so well, live so closely with, care for so deeply. You and Denki know each other. That’s all.

Your outfit isn’t much, but it’s enough for a first day. The colors are flattering against your complexion, the fabric clings in the right places. It’s nice, just nice.

You walk quietly from your room to the living room where Denki is sitting on the couch, legs spread wide with an arm across the back. Looking absolutely delicious- fuck- no not delicious. He just looks like Denki.

“That’s cute.” He says, he motions up and down with his phone, directing his comment at your outfit.

“Thanks.” You say a little too shortly, feeling the guilt immediately.

“I’ll be home later.” You say as you grab your keys from the dish.

“Be safe.” He calls after you.

Fuck.

***

Your date is an absolute disaster, nothing short of a trainwreck. It’s one of those dates that drains you. You politely nod as they ramble on about themselves, laugh at the bad and very insensitive jokes, and indulge in the small talk. Most of all, you miss Denki. You contribute very little, enjoy nothing, and wait for the end of the dreadful two hours you set aside for this.

You pay for dinner quickly, declining their offer for drinks, giving some bullshit excuse about having to work in the morning and being tired. You’re off tomorrow, and you’re wide awake.

You’re itching to get back to your apartment, dying to tell Denki all about your date’s wet cardboard personality. Hopefully, the bizarre moment you shared in the bathroom will be ignored and buried.

Never to be seen again.

You bust into the apartment, shuck off your bag and kick off your shoes. Denki is no longer on the couch, but at the kitchen table huddled over a cup of tea. The lights are all low or off, leaving him in mostly darkness. His posture is odd, slouched, defeated almost.

“Who died?” You try to joke, usually able to earn a chuckle with that line.

Denki doesn’t chuckle though, he sniffles.

“Sparky? What’s wrong?” You’re on him instantly, feet moving on their own.

Your hands are on the sides of his face, pulling up so he has to look at you. Your heart clenches and your chest burns as soon as the small amount of light catches his face.

His left cheek is painted with a deep red and purple bruise. His bright eyes search your face as you take the sight in, and you’re suddenly filled with fiery rage when you see how heartbroken he looks.

“Who the fuck-”

“It was my fault.” He cuts you off, grabbing your wrists so he can pull your hands off his face.

“Denki, what-”

“I told him we would hook up, so he thought we would. When I got there he had a bad vibe so I tried to leave… but he didn’t like that and he-”

You hush him when his breathing picks up, when you see tears well and his lip quiver.

“Hey, it’s ok, you’re ok.” You pull him against your chest, making a mental note to find and throttle the bastard that did this.

But that can wait. You and Denki had both returned from dates fairly busted up. The bruises were always one that were wanted though, never like this. A bad date was always laughed over, never cried over. The very thought of somebody laying their hands on Denki like this… it makes your skin crawl, it makes you want to kill.

His arms are around your waist immediately, hands grabbing as your clothes, pulling you closer. You hold each other for a long while until you feel his leg start bouncing and his fingers start to twitch.

You pull back and look down at him. He looks so displaced, so frantic and caught off guard. He needs something to do. Something to focus on. You can tell he’s not ready to talk, but he’s ready to be distracted, talking will come later.

“Will you help me get this shit off my face?” You ask gently, sliding your hand through his hair.

He blinks hard before wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Yeah- shit- I’m sorry, how was your date?” He asks, doing a shit job as pulling himself together.

“Don’t be sorry. It was awful. All they talked about was their college glory days.” You sigh, thumb running over his forehead.

“That didn’t win you? What’s wrong with you?” He asks, voice dripping with sarcasm.

There he is, or at least he’s trying.

“I missed you the whole time.” It slips out, runs away from you. You mean it though, god do you mean it.

He looks up at you with that same uneasy, distraught look. It almost makes you buckle. You feel pulled to fall into his lap, wrap yourself around him and press sweet kisses into his neck. You can’t, you know you can’t. He would probably be pissed if you crossed that line.

He doesn’t answer, he just nods silently, eyes falling to the ground as he stands up.

“Let’s get that shit off your face.”

You end up perched on the counter again as he wipes your makeup off with a warm cloth. It may seem backwards, him taking care of you, to most people it is. During your time together, you’ve learned that Denki feels useless if he isn’t helping.

When something is hurting him, he’s healed by pouring into someone else, so you let him. You’ll ice his bruise later, bring him water and medicine once you help him scratch this itch.

He takes his time with you, wiping away the makeup he did for you. The dull ache returns to your chest as he works. The soft glow of the bathroom nightlight is your only illumination, giving the room a painfully intimate environment.

He slowly wipes the cloth across your forehead one last time, laying it on the sink before bringing his hand up to hold your chin like he had earlier. You can’t help but glance at his bruise and simply hurt deep inside. You hate that you weren’t there, that you couldn’t stop it.

He breathes for a moment, looking at the planes of your face, eyes lingering in your lips for a bit too long.

“Pretty…” It’s a soft confession, something far too tender for the nature of your relationship.

His admittance settles somewhere deep within you, it wraps itself around your heart and warms it. It’s almost overwhelming and definitely terrifying.

“Do you need to eat?” You kill the building flames immediately, stamp them out with a stubborn foot.

He doesn’t mean it, he’s just vulnerable, he’s just emotional. You’d be an asshole to give into it.

“I could eat.” He sighs.

***

“This is so fucking stupid.” Denki laughs, irritated by the default plot line of the chick flick on tv.

You had ordered your favorite takeout, too much of it, to share as you watch. Slowly, you had pulled him out of his shaken state. With plenty of talk about your awful date, several good laughs, and the occasional soft spoken “you’re okay”. Denki is now settled with his head in your lap as he criticizes the lazy drama of the film.

“Why won’t they just stop being stupid and just… like each other?” He whines, gesturing at the tv with an inpatient hand.

“Dude they can’t. It would ruin the tension for them to like each other right now.” You explain.

He sits up and huffs before grabbing a handful of popcorn.

“But they could work. They could really work.” He says as he stuffs his face.

He seems so genuinely thoughtful, despite his grievances with the quality of the movie, he’s involved.

“Maybe they could.” You say, watching him instead of the movie.

He feels it when he looks at you, squeezing his ribs, trickling down his spine. The overwhelming, almost blind urge to lean in and kiss you. But he can’t, so he doesn’t.

“Could they?” He whispers.

You’re both frozen, trapped in the beam that’s suddenly shining down on you. It exposes every crack and corner of your relationship, leaving you both ripped open and afraid.

He’s leaning in again like he did in the bathroom, closer and closer and closer… until he grabs his damn drink.

Fuck.

A blush spreads across your cheeks, stomach aching with embarrassment. You pull back, shoving yourself under a blanket. You weren’t too obvious, right? You didn’t lean in too much… right?

He takes a long sip then sets the drink down harshly, not enough to make you jump, but enough to make you pay attention.

“Can we stop, please?” He says as he stands up, he runs his hands through his hair and huffs before he starts to pace.

“What?” You ask, trying to sound as oblivious as possible.

“Dude.” He turns on you, looking exhausted, eyes begging you for something.

“Denki- I, you need sleep…” You stand up and start to tidy, not really doing anything though. Just picking up cups and setting them down to look busy.

“I don’t need sleep.” He snaps before grabbing you by the shoulders. His eyes are wild, frantic, searching.

“What do you need?” You ask, hands shaking at your sides. His body sags, hands releasing you so he can hug himself.

“I don’t know.” It’s short and rushed, and he leaves you no time to respond before he storms off to his bedroom. His feet stomp, the door slams, and you fall to the couch in a heap.

This cannot be happening, not to you and Denki. You both just need sleep, you just need to brush it off and start again tomorrow. He’s emotional. He’s just emotional.

You turn the TV off, sneering at the couple kissing on it. You clean up slowly, setting dishes in the sink to be done tomorrow.

It’s ok. You’re ok. Emotions run high after bad dates, after traumatic events. It’s human nature. That’s all, you and Denki will be ok, you always are.

Your shoulders draw up when you hear his door open again, staying busy at the sink as you heard him walk into the kitchen.

“Can we talk about it?” His voice is unsteady, it tugs on your heart as you spin to face him.

“Talk about wha-”

“Please. Don’t.” He sighs as he steps towards you.

He’s too damn pretty when he’s tired. His cheeks get all pink, with glassy eyes and a shiny nose. Even with his busted cheek bone, he’s so… pretty.

Denki’s feelings have always run hot, he loves fast and hurts deeply. You can’t even begin to imagine the tsunami of emotion he must have pounding against his chest. You see it in his eyes though, something is breaking him.

“We could work.” He closes the distance between you even more, giving you no room to hide once your backside hits the counter.

“Denki…” You put your hands on his chest, trying to put something between you two, trying to cling to the line that’s been drawn.

“We could. Just- you don’t have to answer. Just think about it.” And then he’s gone again, away to hide in his room. Leaving you shocked and overwhelmed.

We could work.

You could, and you know it, you’re just not ready to accept it.

***

Sleep doesn’t come well, or even at all. You do think about it, all night. It’s the only thing on your mind as you toss and turn and huff. The sun is already peaking up into the sky, bathing your room in a hazy glow.

We could work.

Just because you could, doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be foolish of you to try. This is a friendship neither of you can afford to lose. You have some confidence that it could indeed withstand an awkward attempt at a relationship… but what if the attempt wasn’t awkward? Denki had told you, drunkenly, how much he loved you. He slept next to you when you cried, held you and talked you down. He knew how many sugars to put in your coffee and how you never bothered to match your socks.

Over time, Denki had memorized you as a person, and you had done the same for him. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to have in a partner? Someone who knows you, someone who makes it safe to be known.

Knock knock

It’s a courtesy knock, something he does to let you know he’s coming in. You never keep your door locked, and he’s always allowed in.

“Mornin’.” He says with a scratchy voice as he peaks into your room.

Fucking hell. Why does he have to be so pretty all the time?

“Mornin’.” You reply

You pull the blankets up around your chest, you realize now you’re in one of his t-shirts, not uncommon, but entirely too intimate given recent events.

He sits on the edge of your bed, all messy hair and puffy eyes. He offers you one of the coffee cups he’s holding, and it smells divine. You accept it as you sit up right, crossing your legs and clinging to your blankets.

His bruise is darker, yellow around the edges with deep red and purple splotches. It gives your chest the same tight feeling, something helpless and angry.

“I’m sorry, I was out of line.” He says quietly.

“You were right, I was emotional and I needed sleep and I definitely shouldn’t have dumped it on you.”

He fidgets while he talks, leg bouncing as his fingers dance around his mug. You reach out to rub his back, but he flinches. He fucking flinches.

Neither of you speak, but you meet each other’s eyes. He looks sorry, so sorry. He looks embarrassed and scared and guilty.

Slowly, you grab both cups and set them on your nightstand. You open your arms to him, still not speaking, not opening the door for him to apologise for something that isn’t his fault.

He falls into you easily, arms around your waist with his face against your neck. He crumbles there, unable to articulate, only able to cry. You hold him close, rub circles in his back and play with his hair. You let him go as long as he needs to, sitting with him, hurting with him.

“Denki?” You tread carefully, using your softest voice.

He looks up then, with a rosey face and searching eyes.

“You’re safe here. You’re safe with me.”

Something you’ve never seen before flashes in his eyes, something soft and warm, something that makes you want to fall forward into him like he just did with you.

You don’t, though, you stay still.

“Thank you.” He whispers.

Then, with all the caution and care in the world, he places a kiss on your forehead. It’s so simple, it’s been done a million times between the two of you, but it sits differently in your chest this time. It stays there, taking up space, spreading through you. That feeling of wanting to cross a line.

“Do you want to make breakfast?” He asks as he wipes at his face with his sleeves.

“Of course. You want those big ass waffles I make?” You ask, trying to lighten the mood.

His grin is slow to appear, but it does appear, and it’s as dazzling as always.

“I always want some big ass waffles.”

***

The rest of the day is spent in close proximity with each other, not unusual, but like everything else the past twenty four hours, it feels different.

You share you sit with knees touching while you eat your waffles, pee with the door open, he puts the toothpaste on your toothbrush for you. It’s all so normal for you two, but god it feels so different. It feels more important, it feels more… wholesome? Maybe? Not quite, that word isn’t entirely applicable. Neither you to Denki are wholesome in any capacity. Then a horrible thought scrambles into your mind.

It feels romantic. It feels domestic. It feels like a relationship.

It hits you while you’re helping him clean up the mess you’ve made cooking dinner. It’s in the way his hand ghosts over your waist when he slides behind you, the way he gets you more to eat without asking him to, the way makes you laugh so naturally.

Fuck.

You love him, you know this as a fact. You love him more than anyone, he knows you inside and out and you know him. You’re just now realizing in exactly what way you love him. He holds your hair when you puke, he rubs your back when you cramp, he pretends to be your boyfriend to scare off bad dates. He loves you too.

“Denki.” Your voice is quiet, your hands shake.

“Can we talk about it?”

His whole body tenses as he sets down the plate he was rinsing. He turns slowly, as if to avoid frightening you.

“Can we?” He asks gently, hopefully.

You step towards him, twisting your fingers around each other anxiously.

“This… works, doesn’t it?” You ask, awkwardly gesturing between the two of you.

He closes more of the distance, standing only inches from you.

“It does, and it could.” He says gently.

“What If it doesn’t?” You wonder out loud, fear creeping up your spine.

“Then it doesn’t.” He says simply.

“And we’ll be ok?”

“We’ll be ok.”

You stand in silence, keeping an eye on each other as you both process the information. He does that leaning thing again, like he wants to be closer. Then you panic.

“But it would be stupid.” You say as you turn away, wringing your hands around each other while you pace. He lets out a sigh and throws his hands up, exhausted with the back and forth.

“Right, because you and I would never do anything stupid.” His voice is rough, impatient, unfamiliar.

“We can’t afford to be stupid with this, dude. Can’t you see that?” You argue.

“Then we can be careful with it, we can start slow, we can ease into it.” He’s nearly begging, stepping towards you again.

“Ease into what!?” You turn on him, stopping him in his tracks.

“Don’t play dumb.” He crosses his arms, you mirror him, both skittish, both afraid.

“Tell me you don’t want this, and we won’t talk about it ever again. You have my word.” He offers, but he doesn’t want to.

You stand there, weighing your options, chest seizing as you watch his vibrant eyes search your face.

You can’t tell him you don’t want it. You can’t lie to him.

“I- Denki… I can’t lose you. We can’t fuck this up.” You feel tears prick at your eyes and a tightness in your throat, the very idea of being without your best friend makes you panic.

“You won’t fucking lose me. You have me, all of me. We won’t fuck this up if we just keep doing what we do.” He tries to keep his voice calm, but he breaks a little.

Another moment of heavy silence is spent between you, chests rising and falling rapidly, hands twitching as minds race.

Denying this any longer would be a crime, a horrible waste of time. Something snaps then, something gives in, and the line is crossed.

His hands are at the side of your face and his forehead falls against yours. Breath is hot, hands are needy, hearts are aching.

“Please, god, please.” You grab at his wrists, not to push him off, to pull him in, keep him close.

“I want you, need you, please.” You confess.

And then your soul is in flames. He shudders and his lips are on yours as soon as he can get them there. All at once, and not soon enough, the line you had both been clinging to is crossed. His hands hold your face so tightly as he works his lips against yours, kissing you with all he has left, letting loose all the times he’s wanted to before. It’s all consuming, it’s mind numbing, it’s (no pun intended) fucking electric.

He walks you back as he kisses you urgently until your ass hits the counter, his hands are on the backs of your thighs instantly. He whispers a quick jump against your lips. You do exactly that.

Now seated on the counter, you spread your legs so he can settle between them. He slides in perfectly, lips still hot and greedy against your own. His hands cling to your hips while yours claw at his back.

He breaks from you, panting with his pupils blown wide.

“Can we do something stupid?” He asks between puffs of air.

“Please, Denki, please.” You sigh, grabbing at his shirt. He grabs it by the collar and rips it off, revealing the body you’ve seen so often, but now you get to know it.

“I wanna taste your pussy.” He whispers before pressing his open mouth against your neck.

The words send a shock all the way down your body. The sparks fly and then settle between your legs where you feel his hard length pressing against your heat.

“Haven’t shaved.” You say, slightly embarrassed.

“Like I fucking care.” And then his hands are at your clothes, pulling them off and throwing them away until you’re left completely bare for him.

His skin feels like heaven against yours, warm and dewy and right.

“Gonna make you feel so good, fuck.” The last word is said with a tone of disbelief.

His hands slide up your sides, gathering your breasts so he can tease your nipples with his thumbs.

He smirks against your neck when you gasp and arch against him, pushing your bodies even closer together.

“Sensitive little thing, aren’t you?” He taunts.

“You’re talking too much.” You let out a breathy laugh at his teasing before planting your hand on top of his head and pushing him down.

He gladly falls to his knees, he throws one of your legs over his shoulder like it’s life or death before finally looking at your soaked center.

“Oh my fucking god.” He sighs.

“I wanna tease you but holy hell, I gotta-” He’s on you before you can brace at all, his tongue licks along your slit slowly, almost reverently.

And then he moans. It’s something whiney, something achey, escaping from the back of his throat.

He doesn’t stop, he doesn’t pull away, he finds the spot that makes you jump and sets up camp. He kitten licks your clit until your hands are pulling at his hair as you gasp above him.

It’s all so much, it’s all so good. Especially when he finally presses two fingers into you. He steps a gentle pace, a soothing push and pull that feels incredible. He works and works and works until your thighs are trembling and you’re babbling praises.

“Denki- fuck- there, right there, fuck fuck fuck.” He eats you so sweetly, with so much precision.

You almost anticipated him being more reckless, more sloppy. He isn’t though, he takes his time, learning your sweet spots, finding the angle that makes you crumble.

And he does.

You reach your end when he flattens his tongue and curls his fingers, massaging every part of you. His name falls from your lips in a broken cry, hands tug at his hair as your thighs squeeze his head.

He helps you through it, licking and fingering slowly to ease you back down, letting you feel every last nerve erupt in pleasure.

“Fuck that was perfect, you’re so fucking sweet.” He sighs against you.

You don’t answer, you can’t, you just grab at him until he gets the hint to stand up.

“Need you inside me, please, Denki please.”

“That’s funny.” He says thoughtfully, pulling down his sweats and briefs to reveal his very hard, very pretty dick.

“What?” You ask, breathless as he steps between your legs. He grabs at his length and gives it a few lazy strokes before pressing his head up against your cunt. The action makes you shiver and dig your nails into his shoulder.

“Didn’t think you were one to beg.” He says with a trembling voice, body buzzing with anticipation.

Then he presses in, replacing any smart remark you may have had with a gasp. It’s definitely a stretch, but god it’s incredible. He fills you so well, presses all of the right spots as he slides in.

“Denki- shit.” Your head falls back against the cabinet, your brain turns to mush as you try to fully comprehend how you ended up here, most of all how you went so long without this.

“So fucking tight.” He pants as he bottoms out, his praise makes you clench, which in turn makes his head fall back with a sweet little gasp.

He pulls in a sharp breath through his teeth, his top lip pulls up almost like he’s in pain. You know he isn’t though, he’s just savoring it.

With a frantic hand, you reach up and grab at the hair at the nape of his neck. You pull him back down against you, both moaning into the kiss when he moves his hips back slowly.

Your lips are messy against each other, bodies working together, finally colliding the way they’re meant to. He keeps his hips moving, setting a perfect, smooth pace. His hands settle on your hips as your stay in his hair.

You’re more vocal than usual, moaning out little praises, needing more and begging for it.

“You feel so good, don’t stop, baby- feels so fucking good.” Your lips quiver as you speak, making you sound so weak and needy. That mixed with the affectionate name does something to Denki, something that names him break a little more.

He buries his face into your neck, whispering a harsh fuck that sounds strangled and desperate. His thrusts get a little faster, his hands grab you a little tighter, and all you feel is Denki.

Your whole body buzzes, in your fingertips, the backs of your thighs, you feel him everywhere.

You don’t even consider the mess that you’ll make on the counter, don’t mind the bruises he’ll leave on your hips, it’s all worth it. So fucking worth it.

“Look at me, look at me when I make you cum.” One of his hands comes up to hold your face as he speaks frantically.

His words set off a cloud of butterflies in your stomach, every sensation building, becoming more intense. You nod pitifully as you lean into his hand, chasing your high with each of his deep, filling thrusts.

The feeling of his hand on your hip reminds you of the last time he had you sitting on a counter like this. You remember how he shocked you, how it went straight to your cunt, how much you loved the feeling.

Body jolting with each thrust, your hand falls over his on your hip. You give him one look, and his eyebrows shoot sky high.

“Yeah? You want me to shock you?” His voice climbs as he speaks, so high and pretty and needy.

“Yes, fuck yes, please, Denki.” You plead, you’re so damn close, you just need that final push.

He doesn’t waste any time. As soon as you ask so sweetly, his palm starts to spark, biting at your skin. You cry out and throw your head forward, the electricity drives you up a wall, absolutely hooked on the sensation.

“That’s it, cum nice and hard for me sweetheart.” His other hand moves down to thumb at your clit and that’s all it takes.

“I’m gonna- ohmyfuckinggod- Denki! Shit!” You sob against his skin as he zaps you just a little more. It makes you delirious, you shiver and jolt as your hands claw down his back.

He fucks you through it, moans and praises fall from his lips as you crest. Your walls quiver around him, almost finishing him off too. Somehow, he keeps it together, he holds his pace until he’s sure you’re on your way back down.

“That’s it baby, that’s it.” He coos as his thrust become more shallow, “Oh fuck.”

He pulls out and jacks himself off only a few times before he’s spilling onto your thigh, painting the skin hot white ropes.

Your hand darts down to gather his release on your fingers before bringing it to your lips. You make a show of licking it up, popping your fingers from your mouth as your eyes flutter shut.

“Oh you dirty fuckin’ girl.” He muses, he gathers the rest up with his thumb so he can press it into your mouth.

You swirl your tongue around his thumb, looking up at him with a doe eyed expression.

You never dreamed you two would ever end up here, feeling and tasting each other in the filthiest of ways, but god it feels so right.

You stay there for just a moment, clinging to the high and each other, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

As your breathing steadies, his hands are placed gently around your waist, thumbs playing at the bottom of your ribs.

You share a moment of silence, waiting for the other to make the first move.

“Wanna talk about it?” Denki asks, a smile playing at his lips. You let out a breathy laugh, head falling forward so you can lean your forehead against his collar bone.

You start to press soft kisses across his chest, he hand slides to play with the hair at the back of your head.

“I don’t think we have to.” You kiss up his chest until you’re looking up at him.

“This works, doesn’t it?” He asks fondly, looking as stunning as ever, bruise and all.

“This works.” You confirm.

With that, he ducks down suddenly, arms sliding around you so he can throw you over his shoulder.

“Denki! What the hell?” You laugh, pounding at his back playfully.

“If we aren’t talkin’ we’re fuckin’. This isn’t a one and done deal baby.” He says as you round the corner to your bedroom, he throws you on the bed so you land with a bounce and a giggle.

“I hope you don’t have plans for the next six hours.” He falls into you, kissing all over your neck and collarbones.

“Hey.” You say quietly.

“Hmm.” He responds between kisses.

“I love you, sparky.”

He pauses, looking up at you with his luminant eyes.

“I know.” His face splits into a teasing grin.

You punch his shoulder, pouting dramatically.

He inches up the bed, caging you with his arms so he can cradle your head with his hands. He looks at you thoughtfully for just a moment before leaning down to kiss you.

It’s gentle and careful this time, slow and thought out. It makes you absolutely melt.

“I love you too.” He whispers against your lips.

It does work, it works beautifully. It was a slow and not so steady road, but you two knuckleheads did it. You crossed that damn line.

[writingsbychlo]

let it snow | joel dawson

word count; 20,746

summary; the night is made for doing things you probably shouldn’t do, and the mornings are for running away from them. except, for when you’re snowed in, and trapped with your problems for who knows how long.

notes; this is based vaguely on the movie ‘two night stand’, but very loosely, it does not follow much of the idea at all, just the basic outline. you absolutely do not have to have seen the movie to read this.

warnings; smut, reference to unprotected sex, very light (accidental) slut shaming, that’s about it.

It took you a moment to realise that you weren’t in your own bed when you woke up, startling a little as you came to the realisation. Your walls were not painted blue, and you definitely didn’t have a desk that messy pressed up underneath the window. In fact, your bedroom didn’t have a view like that at all, your bedroom window looked straight out into New York city, and the alleyways behind some dodgy fast-food restaurants.

This was a nice view, calmer roads and little houses, fields sprinkled with snow became visible the more you sat up, and you hadn't remembered it snowing this heavily last night. Sure, you’d been rather preoccupied, and okay, maybe it had been snowing a little bit, but this looked excessive. Although, it would explain the deep chill in the air right now.

You were still a little foggy, jumping slightly as hot breath washed over you from behind the bedding pulling as another body shuffled, and you were stiff all over. Then, it hit you. Reckless, a few drinks in with your happily loved up roommate and her boyfriend, who made you feel more and more painfully single every time you saw them, before you’d retreated to your bedroom, tipsy and secretly bitter, and checked some dating websites. A cute guy, some witty jokes, a funny conversation, and then him.

Everywhere, all at once, a quick train ride and some frantic kisses, your clothes being stripped from your body as that same mouth moved lower and lower, sweaty and hot and barely stopping to ask questions before you were waking up now, a little bit panicked and filled with ridiculous regret. Rubbing a hand over your eyes, you forced yourself to roll over, as calmly as you possibly could, to try and take in the sleeping man beside you.

Messy brown hair, the same shade as dark chocolate, your tongue tingling at the thought of the sweet treat as you liked your lips, resisting the urge to reach out and see if the stands were as soft as they looked. His face was half-hidden within the pillow, slumped down into it, but pale skin reflected little brown moles, his hair beginning to speckle with a light tracing of stubble, the tingle of which was now beginning to make itself known again between your thighs. Long eyelashes on closed lids hid his eyes from you, but you had a distinct memory of them, burned into your mind.

Warm pools of amber and gold, swirling browns that glittered in the low light that had taken over, like flickering candles and pools of caramel, a shade of whiskey that you wanted to be drunk on, beautiful and bright from all the times he’d looked at you. He was handsome, you couldn’t deny that, an odd surge of pride rushing through you as you congratulated yourself on at least being able to pick out somebody physically perfect to have a one-night stand with in your self-pitying loath.

The blankets were sitting around his middle, one hand stretched out a little towards your side of the bed, long and veiny fingers, and you remembered a little just why he’d driven you so wild now, those same veins making tracks up his forearms, disappearing just before his biceps. He was toned, but not overly so, the muscles along his chest standing out, a smattering of dark hair between them, and you could finally remember tracing the slight definition of abs with your tongue, before you’d been tracing something else, and your face flushed with heat as you remembered just how much of the man before you you’d seen.

It felt scandalous now, to be sharing abed with a stranger whom you could barely remember, and to know exactly what he looked like naked, or how he sounded while moaning as he came, but to not even know his last name, or to fully remember the address that you were even at. It was dirty, it was filthy, it was wrong. Oh, but it had been so fun, an experience that everybody should have at least once in their life, a naughty little secret, the one night stand you picked up at a bar, or through a friend, someone you’d look back on fondly once you were ten years older, married and settling down, and as you thought about it more, your lips were still flicking up in a smile.

You’d laugh about it one day.

Slipping from the covers, you tried to find your clothes, not wanting to linger any longer, not wanting the awkwardness of having to deal with stunted small-talk and forced politeness as you tried to adjust to the morning alongside him, someone who was still a little fuzzy in your mind, and your clothes were scattered around the room within easy access, a fortunate happening that made you thank whichever god or deity might be watching you right now.

Sipping your jeans back on, you wiggled a little, trying not to make the flooring creak underneath you, and only pausing long rough to put on your socks, shoes held in hand as you adjust your jumper on your body, a hand running through messy hair to tame it. The man shuffled, and you froze, watching as he paused for only a moment, before flipping over and away from the side you’d been sleeping on, a sleepy huff sounding from him, but he was still snoozing heavily, and you let out a little sigh. Your coat was hanging on the rack, and you grabbed that too, anticipating ho grateful you’d be to have it as you battled against the freezing cold that was surrounding you, toes chilling more and more against the concrete, but you didn’t want to wait much longer to leave.

A scrap of paper, a post-it note from the pad in the hall and a pen that barely had any ink left in, but you scribbled down a few quick words, pinning it up to the corkboard beside the door, and nodding to yourself as you deemed it good enough.

‘had a great time last night, thx.’

With a smiley face and a sign on your name to finish it off, you were undoing the catch across the door, the chain rattling slightly as it fell loose, and you winced, waiting to see if you’d woken him again, the studio apartment he resided within offering little in the way of walls and doors to muffle the muted noises of your escape. When you deemed it clear, your hand sealed around the door handle, clicking it open carefully, and pulling the door towards yourself.

So close, the corridor in sight, but the alarm beeped loudly, and you jumped, the computerised voice startling you so violently that your whole body jerked a little, and you went wide-eyed. You closed the door, hoping it would stop, but the beeping only intensified, and your heart raced in your chest.

“Shit!” Your voice was hissed out in a whisper, and you panicked, hearing the man in bed begin to stir a little, and in a last-minute bid to try and reclaim what little dignity you had left, not wanting to be caught sneaking out, you tore the note back down from the pin-board crinkling it slightly and tiptoeing back to the bedroom. Placing your shoes and coat down quietly as the man began to surface, and you tucked yourself back under the covers on the opposite side, pulling them up to your neck and faking a yawn as he pushed himself up with a groan, sleep broken.

He wandered away from you, your eyes diverting from his body a little bit as the covers fell away, and you were grateful to find that at some point he’d pulled his boxers back on, because you weren’t sure you could handle any more embarrassment this morning. The beeping came to a stop, a mechanic voice informing you that the alarm had been rest, and he was rubbing at his face and yawning as he wandered back through.

“False alarm.”  His voice was still raspy, filled with sleep and cracking a little.

“That’s so weird.” He only hummed in acknowledgement of your words, before he was shaking himself down, settling back into the bed and rolling onto his side, away from you as he fell right back into his slumber, and you sat up. “Bummer that it woke us up. I should probably get going anyway. I had fun, though!”

“Thanks, I think.” He was still half-asleep, barely processing your words, you picked at the sheets a little, trying to decide whether or not you were sufficiently polite enough to be able to leave yet.

“It was perfect for.. y’know.. what I needed. So, thanks, Joe.”

“Joel.” He mumbled, your brows furrowing as your legs swung over the edge of the bed, feet hitting the floor, and a loud creak sounded out under your sudden weight on the floorboards.

“What?” He huffed, deciding that sleep clearly wasn’t a luxury he was going to reclaim, and he pushed himself to sit up, pillows popped behind him.

“My name, it’s Joel.”

“What did I say?” Your fingers were doing up your laces, ignoring the burning heat of his gaze on you.

“Joe. My name has a little ‘L’ at the end. Joel.”

“Right, yeah, my bad.” You cringed a little, picking up your coat from the floor, and pulling it up your arms, an amused look on his face as he watched you.

“Did you sleep fully dressed?”

You looked down, shrugging a little and swallowing thickly as this got more and more awkward, and this wasn’t exactly how you’d pictured the morning after your first one night stand going. “I, uh, got cold.”

“Uh-huh.” You patted your hand at your sides, not sure what else to do, and he stretched his arms out, rolling his head from side to side, before looking at you again. “So, do you want to get some breakfast? Or do you normally just take off?”

“Normally?” He paused his stretching, looking up at you, a confused expression flicking across handsome features, and he made a vaguely confused noise, as though he didn’t know what he’d just spoken. “You said ‘normally’. Like, as if I do this so often that I’d have a normal and abnormal version of it.”

“That’s not what I meant. I have no idea how often you do this, I just thou-”

“I told you last night that this was my first time doing this, or even anything remotely like this!” You remembered that part clearly, because you choked a little on your words when telling him, and then he’d laughed breathlessly and kissed you, while pushing you back into his bed, and your face flushed as you remembered the exact moment, graphic detail almost disturbing.

“Yeah, but, c’mon.” You raised your brows at him, hands sitting on your hips as you stared at him, hoping your face portrayed the fact that you absolutely did not know. “(Y/N), c’mon. Do you really expect me to believe that this is your first one night stand, ever?”

“Yes! Because it is!” He stared at you blankly, before shrugging a little, seeming to accept it, but you were still feeling distinctly judged. “The only reason I’m even here is that my roommate and best friend had her boyfriend over, and I was feeling particularly lonely in the holidays, and they were, y’know, about to.. so, I had to do something, an-”

“No, yeah, you were sexiled, or whatever. I remember that. It’s just, surely this isn’t the first time your roommate has wanted to sleep with her boyfriend while you were home, so this can’t be the first time you’ve.. yeah.” He waved his hands, motioning between the two of you, and your arms crossed over your chest, glaring at him.

“I am sensing some distinctly judgy vibes coming from your side of the bed - which is odd, considering what we did took teamwork - and I haven’t even done anything worth judging!”

“There’s no judgy vibes coming from this side of the bed!” He laughed a little, shaking his head incredulously at you, and had your anger not been reaching its peak, you probably would have been a little more embarrassed. “Honestly, I really admire what you did. I wish more girls were that forward.”

“Forward?” You seethed, rolling your eyes at him. “There we go with that ‘slut’ thing again!”

“Wha- what ‘slut thing’? I’m not calling you a slut!” He moved now, standing up himself from the bed and you averted your eyes, letting him scoop up his shirt from the floor and tug it on over his head. “I’m calling you a girl, who went over to a stranger’s house at midnight. If only there was a word for that.”

“You know what, screw you!”

“That was a joke.” You stormed past him, hearing him chase after you with his own laughs as he tried to suppress them. “That was a joke! I’m sorry, bad timing.”

“You invited me here, just remember that!”

“That’s not quite how it happened, but it doesn’t matter.” He was biting at the inside of his cheek to contain his smile, fixing you with an amused gaze. “Look, why don’t we just have some breakfast? I make really good oatmeal, with a little smiley face made out of jam.” He almost had you, your resolve breaking just a little, before he was snickering to himself again. “And it’s not slutty at all.”

“Save your stupid oatmeal, I think I’m just going to take off.” You swung the door open, a bitter smile on your face as you looked back at him. “Thanks for having me, it was just awesome getting to know you. Have a great life, Joe.”

“Okay, cool, well, I’m just going to assume you did it on purpose that time, because I already told you a bunch of times that it’s Joel with an ‘L’.”

“It wasn’t, but don’t worry, you just have a stupid name!”

“Great.” He huffed, no amusement left in him as he stared at you with frustration. “Well, ‘bye! Lovely having sex with you!”

“Wish I could say the same!” You hissed, his jaw dropping a little, before his eyes were narrowing.

“Sounded like you had a pretty good time last night.”

“Don’t believe everything you hear.” You were prideful and mean, and you’d probably feel bad about it later but right now it was the only way you were getting through this disaster of a morning. “Especially when it’s something like ‘Hey, Joel - cool name.’ Like, what is that? Sounds like the first draft of a name!”

“Okay. Fuck you, (Y/N).”

“Fuck you, back!”

It was a weak ending to the argument, but you didn’t care, the door slamming behind you as you stormed away, quick to hold your coat closer to your body as the temperature between the apartment on the halls was radically different, your breath clouding in the air even from within the building, and you located the staircase.

It was only four floors up, the building being rather oddly constructed, only two apartments per floor, and it was unusually quiet behind all of the doors. When you finally reached the main entrance, remembering him coming downstairs to let you in last night, you undid the catch, your shoulder pushing against the fogged up glass as you made to leave, and a confused and slightly pained cry sounded from you as the door refused to budge even an inch.

You tried again, before you were wiping at the glass, to clear the condensation and try and see what the blockage was, but you quickly discovered it wasn’t fog but ice. Moving over to the window beside a door labelled ‘laundry’, you were met with the sight of snow piled up high, almost three feet up to reach the base of the window, and the roads weren’t even visible. You hadn't realised just how heavy the snow had gotten, and how bad the extent of it all was, until now, where you could see the

“Oh, no, no, no.” Panic flooded through your system as you realised just how screwed you were, trapped in a building with no way out, and your phone was dying, and you weren’t even sure whether your roommate would be up in time to come and find you and clear the snow before the battery died. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

Pulling up google, you were quick to check the news reports in the area, finding that the snow had increased and come down heavily overnight, it was a city-wide issue, and there was no way that they’d be getting anywhere near where you were for hours, if that. It was still snowing, albeit not as heavily, but they were prioritising inner-city roads and train lines, not little apartment blocks on the edges of cute fields and open space.

Of all the people you could choose to hook up with, you had to pick the person who was living in the most inconvenient location for a snowstorm.

Glancing around, you realised this was it, you were just going to have to hunker down for a few hours, and in all fairness, it could be worse. At least it was clean and smelled pleasant. Settling yourself down against the cool concrete flooring in the edge of the room, you stretched your legs out before yourself, daring to tap the ‘call’ button on your phone, and bringing it to your ear.

You waited, listening to it ring all the way until it went to voicemail, and then again, and again. After three times, and a whole 5% of what little battery life you had left remaining, you gave up on your roommate, knowing that if it were you at home, you’d be snuggled up cosy in your bed and still fast-asleep too. Switching the device off to conserve power, your head fell back, resting on the wall. Most wonderful time of the year, my ass.

“No, it was super fuckin’ weird. Totally fine, and then suddenly everything is a screaming match an-”

You cursed under your breath, the one voice you had wished you wouldn't have to hear again, followed by rhythmic bouncing of footsteps coming down the stairs, and you glanced up, offering a small wave to the person whom you’d hoped never to have to see again, and his brows furrowed, pausing where he was stood.

“I’m gonna’ have to call you back.” Tucking his phone into his pocket, he took the final few stairs slowly, coming to stand before you, and you pushed yourself up from the floor, brushing the dust from your pants. “What are you still doing here?”

“Blizzard. A whole bunch of snow piled up and now the door won’t open.”

He turned back to look at it, adjusting the basket in his arm before placing it down on the floor, and moving over to the door. Your arms crossed over your chest as he did, watching as he pushed the barred handle down, shoulder ramming into the door, and a grunt left him as it refused to move. He tried it again, before rubbing at his arm lightly, and moving away to peer out of the window just like you did, a little shocked at just how much it was, and you rolled your eyes at him. “I told you.”

“I was just trying to help, there was no need to be rude.” He muttered, and you scoffed once again, turning away from him as he picked the basket back up. He wandered away from you, into the laundry room, disappearing from sight, and you sat back down on the floor.

You heard him test the taps, water still coming through them miraculously, the metal and water within not having completely frozen over, and you brought your legs up to your chest, arms crossing over your knees and chin balancing atop them, preparing yourself for a long while of being bored. It was after many clicks and dials, the soft beeping of the machines as they rumbled to life, that you heard him appear once again, dirty Adidas scraping against the floor, before he came to a stop in front of you.

He looked at you for a minute, seeming to analyse whatever thoughts were going through his head, and you raised a single brow at him, prompting him to speak sooner rather than later. “You can come back upstairs, if you want.” You stared at him for a further minute, jaw dropping a little, and he tucked the laundry stock under his arm. “It’s going to be hours until those roads are cleared, even if they do unblock the doorway. You’ll freeze down here, and you haven’t eaten anything. I’ll make you some breakfast.”

He offered his hand, and sliding your palm against his, he pulled you up from your position on the floor, dropping your hand and spinning on his heel to guide you back up to his apartment. It was awkward, to say the least, and you rubbed your hands together to try and warm them back up, the chill in the air beginning to seep into your clothing and cool you to the core.

When the door opened back up, you let out a little groan, wishing you’d suppressed it better but being caught off guard, and you heard the man before you huff a laugh as your eyes scanned over the small space heater that was set up in the corner, warmth radiating from it and spreading across the apartment. Hanging your coat back up on the hooks by the door, you shuffled through the apartment, not too sure what you should be doing now that you’d returned to the scene of the crime from which you’d fled.

You chose to simply follow what Joel was doing, repeating his name like a mantra in your head so that you didn’t mess it up again, and taking a seat at the round table with a few mismatching chairs around it within his kitchen, watching as he clattered about with pots and pans at the stove. You busied yourself with your phone, finding that you at least had a signal, and could access your social media.

Instagram and snapchat were filled with videos and photographs of the snow, taken aesthetically from the windows, roofs and balconies of people who were lucky enough to be in their own homes, curled up with steaming mugs of tea and the loves of their lives to take pictures from behind frosted glass of the winter wonderland that was more like the bane of your existence.

You replied to a few texts, and messaged your friend again to update her, leaving it there for her to read whenever she came back around to consciousness, to tell her that she didn’t need to rush, and that you’d at least found yourself somewhere to keep warm and safe. Your head snapped up when a steaming bowl of oatmeal was paced down before you, smelling delicious with maple syrup and fruit, a spoon clattering down beside it before the scraping of the chair opposite you was ringing in your ears.

Poking at it, you couldn't help but notice the smiley face sitting on top, the syrup beginning to sink in as the blueberries scattered over the top were almost half-submerged, looking a little wonky but still adorable, and you looked up at the man who was already tucking into his own, finding him staring at his own meal in silence.

“Smiley face.”

Your voice cracked a little with your whispered words, but his eyes met yours, pausing only a second before the edges of his lips were flicking up in a gesture of a smile, and one shoulder rose and fell in a weak shrug. “Told you I would.”

You only nodded, spoon stirring at the contents of the dish, mixing it all together and the face on the porridge disappeared as you blended the flavours, before lifting a heaped spoonful to your mouth. Blowing on it carefully, you took the mouthful between your lips, this time successful in holding in your little sounds of appreciation as the food hit your tongue. It was delicious, you couldn't deny that, warm and satisfying as you tried to fight off the cold that was still threatening to creep in.

It wasn’t that you hadn't worn suitable clothing, but you’d only worn a camisole and jumper with a pair of leggings that were undoubtedly on the thinner side, because warm clothing hadn't been your main concern the night before when they were only going to be peeled from your body an hour or so later, discarded to the floor. Now, you were deeply regretting that decision.

You also hadn't realised how hungry you’d been, because the headache that had been forming, throbbing behind your eyes with a dull ache, was beginning to recede, the anger that had been dwelling within your system was fading, and you were allowing your mind to replace it with guilt instead. You’d been a little crass this morning, yelling and lashing out at Joel when it had been your fault that you felt like shit, succumbing to the sensual temptations of nightfall and your loneliness, and blaming your decisions on everyone else when the sun had risen.

“Look, we’re going to be here a while.” You jumped, spoon clanging against the edge of your dish, and Joel tried - and failed - to bite back his smirk at the amusement of having scared you out of your thoughts. “Why don’t we just pretend like last night never happened? Start over again? You can stay on one side of the apartment, I’ll stay on mine, we don’t even really have to interact. We’ll just coexist until the snow is cleared, and then we can part ways and never meet again. Sound cool?”

You let out a breathy sound of amusement, nodding your head as relief flooded your system. “Works for me. Clean slate?”

“Great.” He nodded, that flickering look of amusement passing over his face again, and he reached a hand out across the table. “Hey, I’m Joel. Your roommate for the next couple of hours.”

You paused, letting out a sigh as he arched his eyebrows in a silent question as to whether you were going to leave him hanging, before you accepted the outstretched hand and shook it. Giving him your name in return, he nodded his head, before he was standing up, and taking both of your bowls away to the sink, dumping them into the soapy water that he’d already prepared so that they could begin to soak.

Crossing your legs under the table, and your nails tapped for a second, silence filling the room for a few minutes, and you desperately searched for something to say that you could use to fill the silence. “Do you want to watch a movie?”

His voice sounded almost as strained as your own, but you let out a little sigh at the fact that at least he’d broken the tense silence between you both, and you hummed. “Yeah, that's good with me. Do you have a phone charger I can use?”

He turned to look at you over his shoulder, hands still submerged within the sink, but you waved the device at him as he took it in. “Yeah, I’ll grab it. You can go and pick a film; remote is around there somewhere. Pick something good.”

You were more than eager to get away from sitting idly at the table in awkward quiet and waiting for the hours to pass, each tortuous minute making you wish you’d just remained downstairs alone, slowly freezing into a statue. The couch was large and plush, slightly worn seats but it only made it look more inviting, a plethora of cushions and pillows laid out for you to settle into, and just as he’d said, the controls were already out on the coffee table, a few coasters and random pieces of stationary covering the surface too.

Switching the television on, you waited for it to boot up, finding that he had netflix downloaded, and there was a list of films in the back of your mind that you’d been waiting to watch, and you flickered through them all as you stared at the screen. Narrowing it down, you felt like a comedy might be a good choice, lighten the air with something easy going and funny, nothing too intense, and the couch dipped at the very opposite end as your company sat as far away as he could, leaning against the other arm of the couch but dropping his phone charger down onto the space between, an olive branch extended in the form of a tangled phone wire.

“How about ‘Jumanji’?”

“Good film.” He mumbled, and you nibble don your lower lip, before he was letting out the breath he was holding and turning towards you. “Second one is on here too, we could watch them both. I haven’t seen that one, just the first.”

“It’s a plan.” You confirmed, clicking play on the movie and crossing your legs, leaning over the side of the couch to try and locate a socket, pushing the plug into the wall, and hooking your phone up the power, the device buzzing in your hand as it began to charge up.

Dwayne Johnson and Kevin Hart were an entertaining pair on screen, and as the group began to navigate through the jungle, you let yourself become immersed in what you were seeing on screen. It wasn’t all that hard, because Jack black was hilarious. The occasional echo of a laugh from one or both of you would crack the silence when something happened, and the picking of loose threads on your jumper had begun to stop as you settled a little more into the situation, your anxiety settling and not needing to be quite so stiff.

When there were only twenty minutes or so until the end of the first movie, your phone buzzed, and then again, a series of rapidly incoming texts, and flipping over the device, it was revealed to you as your friend. Swiping it open, you pulled up the texts, chuckling to yourself at the frantic collection of broken messages that she had sent to you.

[soph 🌹] only just woke up, so sorry!!

[soph 🌹] just checked news, no way to get to u!!

[soph 🌹] roads all blocked, wtf, when did this snow come down??

[soph 🌹] kinda funny tho.

[soph 🌹] only u would go for a hookup and get snowed in there.

[soph 🌹] is he at least hot? tap that again. fill the day with hot sex??

You scoffed, but your lips were forming a smile, and you could feel the glances that were being cast your way every couple of seconds, choosing to glance up and return the look as he turned to face you once again.

“My friend just woke up, she’s finally learning about the snow.”

“Did she know you were still, um..” He scratched at the back of his neck, other hand casting around the apartment. “-out?”

Heat flushed your own cheeks, before you were nodding your head, and he seemed or accept that, silence forming between you both once again as he turned to look back at the TV screen, but stretching out with a little more comfort, long legs crossing at the ankles from where they were extended before him, and he lounged back a little more.

> that’s definitely not going to happen.

You were only given a moment of reprieve, before your phone was chiming again.

[soph 🌹] why not!! not like you’ve got anything else to do

> probably bc we're not exactly getting along. civil at best.

She didn’t respond after that, leaving your message on read, and you assumed that she’d become preoccupied with the man you guessed would have spent the night there with her, and once again, you were envious of her for being at home and comfortable in her own space, when instead, you felt like you were walking on eggshells.

The majority of the second movie was spent more on taking in the details of the apartment around you, instead of the plot line and characters. Posters hung up on the walls, and you wondered how he could afford to live here, the place was nice, but there was nothing here that suggested another person lived in the apartment, but there was no way a college student could afford a place like this alone, unless his parents were paying for it. It was a nice area, the kind of place you could live with if you had kids or were elderly, and you were pretty sure on your way over here the night before that you’d seen someone walking a dog, making it the picture-perfect neighbourhood.

College textbooks and stationery were around, a stack of notebooks and text printouts sitting on the little table before you, and it was almost fifteen minutes before you built up the confidence to lean forward and take them all in with a little more detail. He watched as you went, your eyes moving to meet his as you waited for permission, but he never stopped you, so you picked up the first book that was on top.

‘Art within Literature: The Importance of Illustrations’

“Didn’t have you pegged for an art kinda’ guy.” You mumbled, and you heard him chuckle, before he was sitting up a little straighter, moving across the couch closer to you just slightly, to see which one you had picked up.

“Not the first time I’ve been told that, actually.” He grabbed at the controls, your eyes flickering up to the screen as the sound of the movie cut off, replaced by the boring drone of the local news station, but right now, it may as well have been the most important thing in the world as the two of you perked up to listen. Placing the book back down, your legs folded underneath yourself, and you secretly had your hopes up that they were going to be getting around to this end of the city soon.

It took a while, the list of places that were being cleared was working out from the inner city in circles, your hopes falling more and more and you listened, getting an update on the weather about how it was expected to be even colder tonight than it had been last night, and the snowfall wasn’t expected to stop anytime soon, but instead, you would be here even longer than expected. The earliest that there were any plans for the road to be cleared in this area was tomorrow morning, and sadness was once again spiking within your system, feeling the man beside you sag with just as much disappointment.

“Guess I’ll set the couch up for you, later.”

“Thanks.” You hoped your lack of enthusiasm didn’t show in your voice, because you truly were grateful, and he stood up, wandering away to his bedroom and grabbing the plastic woven basket he’d been using earlier as he went, presumably to start up another load of laundry. When the door to the apartment closed behind him, you were left in silence once again, and you turned down the volume and picked up the next book that had been on his pile.

This one was a sketchbook, that much was clear as soon as you opened the book, and his full name was written across the front page, information on how to return it if it came up lost followed it, smudged fingerprints from graphite and coloured chalks were also along the corners. Flipping the first page, you were caught a little off-guard by the image you saw, yet not entirely surprised.

Clearly, his passions lay with fiction and fantasy, the name of what you assumed to be some kind of ancient Greek novel, much like ‘Iliad’ or ‘The Odyssey’, because a range of different creatures and monsters were scattered across the pages beautiful drawings, incredible details and shading, and you’d never seen anything quite like them. You wanted to trace your fingers over them, but resisted in fear of ruining the delicate art, and flicked through the pages instead.

At the top of some pages the book titles changed, inspirations from different famous works, some you knew and some you didn’t, but the drawings were always perfect. When you reached the final page, you placed it down, guilt once again running through your veins as you remembered the way you’d snapped at him this morning, because the more you learned about him, the more you realised he wasn’t all that bad, and he was probably a pretty decent guy, if you’d just given him the chance to be.

Getting up from the couch, an idea was forming in your mind, a way to at least try to pay him back or make your appreciation known, and you found yourself again in his kitchen, hands on the cupboard doors as you began to look through them.

They were mostly empty, not much in place but enough to make it work, you were sure of it, you could whip up something out of all of it, and you moved across to have a look at the contents of the tall refrigerator hidden in the corner.

“Need help finding something?”

You startled, turning to look at him and closing the fridge, and his hands were on his hips as he stared at you, your arms wrapping around yourself gently as you shrugged. You couldn’t blame him for being a little putt-off, you were just a stranger after all, but you wanted to at least try and make proper amends with him, and so you let yourself be unbothered by the frustration flashing over his features.

“What are you looking for?”

“I was just seeing what you had in.” You waved a hand behind yourself, swallowing thickly and taking a small step around the dining table towards him. “I was just seeing what you had, because I was hoping to cook dinner for you, maybe? Y’know, as a thank you for letting me stay with you, and keeping me warm and all, even though I was rude this morning.”

“Oh.” The tightness in his shoulders loosened, his body slumping a little, tension melting away, and a bashful look flickered over the anger, taking its place as he tried to muster a smile for you. “That would, uh, be nice. Thanks. I don’t have a lot in, though.”

“You really don’t. Do you just survive on junk food and pasta?”

He laughed, a genuine laugh at that, before he was standing before you and reaching over to the cupboards, pulling out a packet of pasta, and holding it out to you. “What’s wrong with junk food and pasta?”

“Nothing! But it’s all you have!”

He only grinned, opening the fridge and standing to the side, double-checking what he had in. “Well, I’ll have you know that I make a great minestrone, and that’s what I was planning to have for my dinner tonight. You can join me.”

“I don’t know how to make that.”

“Well, I’ll teach you, and it’ll change your life. I swear it.” He closed the fridge, leaning back against it with a questioning look on his face, and you shrugged, but you felt a lot more comfortable already, the simple banter between you both mending a broken bridge.

“I was supposed to be cooking you dinner though.”

“You can be my sous-chef, how about that?” Now that was a deal you could work with, and you shook his hand, this time it was filled with giggles and wide smiles, as opposed to the last time you’d come to an agreement over breakfast only a few hours ago, the beginning of the day bringing much brighter prospects than the early morning had. “Now, what do you want to do until then?”

That was a good question, and it took you a minute to think about it, eyes glancing around his apartment for inspiration, pausing on the television stand with boxes of games stacked up underneath, and you lit up a little. “How about board games?”

He groaned, loudly, and you found amusement in it once again, being that this was his apartment, and he was finding issues with his own methods of entertainment and possessions. “Nobody plays board games while sober.”

“It's midday! We’re not getting drunk at midday!”

It was scandalous, and you didn’t have much more space to give over to scandals within the next twenty-four hours, pretty much having reached your quota already, and a cheeky look flickered over his features. “Well, we don’t necessarily have to drink..”

“What are you suggesting?”

Your eyes narrowed on him, and he spun on his heel, not saying a thing but letting you follow him. He cleared the books from the coffee table, stacking them all away on the floor in the corner, before lifting up the fold in the middle. He reached inside, and you waited patiently, your jaw dropping as he revealed the item to you, looking more than proud of himself.

A bong, tall with green glass, and it was decorated and bejewelled along the bottom, stickers and actions figures stuck to it, the whole collections making you snort a laugh as you looked at him, before your hands were landing on your hips and a look that you hoped read as ‘seriously?’ written on your face.

“What, you don’t want to?” He waited a moment longer, nibbling on his lower lip, before sitting on the opposite side of the coffee table and finding his lighter. He also reached for the first box on the top of the file, producing a box with one word across the front, brightly coloured and you recognised it. “Suit yourself, but I am. I need something to get through the whole afternoon with you.”

The comment would have stung a lot more had it not been for the cheeky wink that he added onto the end to tell you he was joking, and you sat cross-legged opposite him, picking up the box labelled ‘UNO’ and tipping the deck out into your hands. He clicked at the lighter, waiting for it to spark up, before his mouth was meeting one end of the glass, the contents inside bubbling and gurgling a little as he inhaled, and you dealt out the cards.

He hummed, head tipping back, eyes closed as he settled into the feeling of his eye, and as though he could feel you watching him, his head fell forwards, eyes opening to look at you. “Sure you don’t want any?”

You waited only a moment longer, before huffing out, holding your hand out for them both. “Fine, hand it over.” He placed both pieces on the table, sliding them across the polished wood to you, and you picked them up. Clicking on the flame, you adjusted it in your hand, lips pressing to the cool rim of glass, swilling it a little for good measure, before you were lighting up the end.

Steamy smoke curled up into your lungs as you inhaled deeply, warmth racing through your body as a tingling kind of feeling ran through your throat, tickling and making you grin, in a way that you were familiar with and yet hadn't been accustomed to in a long time. The buzzing feeling raced through your body, already kick-starting nerves and reactions that had felt dormant for a long time.

You hadn't been to a party, a real and exciting college party, since your break up. You’d locked in and sealed yourself away ever since your heart had been broken, and it felt good to adventure back out into the world like this, even if you were locked away with a guy from halfway across town whom you’d known for about twelve hours. “Okay, you were right.”

“Feel better?” He grinned, holding his hand out for the device, and for a little while, the two of you simply shared it between you, letting that initial tingle grow into a proper buzz the world around you beginning to slip away into a haze. Your vision was soft around the edges, slightly out of focus, and the world felt a little more comfortable. Spreading your legs out underneath the coffee table, your back leaned against the couch, feet in his lap as he sat with his legs crossed and folded under him.

When you’d decided your high was enough, you’d started with the games. ‘UNO’ had brought on rivalry and chaos, the two of you raising your voices to the point that you’d been yelling at one another, throats going a little sore as you cursed and laughed, not quite sentient enough now to make the best calls at the game, and so it had felt like it had dragged on for hours, before you had finally been the champion.

He had challenged you to a rematch in the form of a board game called ‘Frustration’, and the two of you had been so busy playing that the time was slipping away around you, the board being flipped by you as he began to win, counters scattering across the floor, and he looked completely and utterly insulted at it, before cracking up laughing with you once again.

After that, you had sprawled all of the games out over the floor, some of them being team games that you were unable to play together, and you’d refused to play a drawing game with him, because you’d peeked at his designs, and were scared to showcase your own drawing in front of him, worried that he’d completely put you to shame and leave you embarrassed.

Poker had been too much of a challenge, half of the pieces for the monopoly board were missing, and you’d done every round of Mario Kart at least once by the time it had come to turning off the console under the TV. Joining you by your side, the two of you were slumped lazily into the couch cushions, shoulders pressed together as the bong sat between you, fresh hits racing through your systems to keep everything exciting, but the thrill of the act itself was beginning to die off, and you were once again out of things to do for entertainment.

At some point, the light outside of the windows had faded, the clumps of snow that had been left along the windowsill were still rising, flakes still falling in flurries from the clouds, except what had once been visible in the day was now dark, the low light of the lamps in the room spilling golden light out across the walls and carpet. Rolling your head to the side, you took in the man sitting before you, watching as he tapped his feet repetitively on the coffee table to the beat of a song you didn’t recognise.

“I looked at your drawings.”

“What?” He paused, twisting to look at you, and he sat up a little further.

“I was being nosey. Earlier, I looked at the drawings in your sketchbook.” His gaze flickered to the leather-bound book in the corner, stacked up with the rest of his belongings, before getting up and putting the bong away, folding the edge of the table back down, and wiping a hand over his face, cheeks tinted pink, and you weren’t sure if it was from the warmth of the room or out of embarrassment. “They’re incredible. Some of the best illustrations I’ve ever seen, actually.”

“You really think so?”

“Yeah. I could never draw like that. I can’t even draw stick men without them being wobbly, sometimes.” He smiled again at that, and you found an odd feeling running through you at the idea that you were able to make him smile, your stomach clenching and twisting as he looked at you fondly, shaking his head a little, eyes dropping to the floor.

“I don’t get a lot of practice with it, I can’t get any apprenticeships yet because nobody wants to hire someone who’s only experience is in one element. Mine being fantasy-sorts, I suppose.”

“Will you draw me?”

“What?” He looked a little startled, eyes wide, and you shuffled forwards on the couch, hand twitching to reach out and take his as you tried to reassure him, watching uncertainty flick over his face. “I don’t really have experience with drawing people. More the imaginary things, described but never seen, less to fuck up if there’s nothing to compare it to.”

“I don’t think you’ll fuck it up.” He swallowed thickly, moving to kneel on the other side of the table, his sketchbook in hands as he fidgeted with it.

“If I mess it up, don’t make me show you, okay?” You only nodded, and he hesitated a moment longer, before getting himself into a more comfortable position, searching through the drawers around him to find his pencils and equipment, laying them out and taking an extra amount of time to line them all up perfectly, and you were sure it was because he wanted to give himself a spare few seconds to hype himself up to it.

You waited patiently, just now beginning to process what was about to happen, and that you’d have to sit still for a long time, while he stared at you, drawing every highlight and flaw of you, while you remained steady under his gaze for as long as it took. When he was ready, you moved yourself a little more, sinking down onto the floor after rounding the coffee table, sitting at the side of it as he positioned you.

“Can you, um-” He tugged two fingers on his own t-shirt, and you looked down at your hoodie, the hood of it crowding around your shoulders, and you nodded, tugging it up from the bottom and over your head. A cool breeze swept over your skin, exposed with only the thin satin camisole hanging on your body to keep you warm, but you felt yourself light up on fire with the way his eyes swept over you. “However you’re comfortable. I’m just going to draw your head and shoulders, so, do whatever you want.”

You pressed your elbows to the wood, hand forming a loose fist and your cheek pressed to it, leaning like that, a slight ankle, and he nodded his head to himself, seeming to approve of the pose. Picking up a pencil, he studied you for a second, the nib hovering over the paper as he held it at an angle that couldn't see, perfect for him to work on though, before stopping.

Placing the pencil between his lips, he held it there, reaching forwards to pull a few strands of your hair free on either side, framing your face and letting them dangle there, curling one around his finger a little to make it twisted, before he was pulling back. “You’re so pretty.”

After that, he was working. Quick strokes of his pencil over the paper as he created the first outline of you, your head, where and how your hair would fall, your hand holding up your head and down to the spaghetti straps on your shoulders, quick movements, a lot of erasing, and very light brushes of the graphite over the paper. Once he was sure he had the form right, only a few minutes in, he started on the details.

His eyes, lingering on your face, licking at his lips to keep them wet as he worked, parted for short breaths, unaware of what he was doing and you resisted biting down on your own as you looked at him, trying to hold your position. It was hard, the look of concentration on his face while staring at your mouth, or the determination in his eyes as he held your gaze and yet was so far away, taking in every little detail, until he was rubbing his finger over certain spots to create shading, and create the minute detailed with finally sharped tips.

Your arm was sore and neck aching when he finally told you that you could sit up, and you rolled your head from side to side, loosening the muscles and tendons that had begun to lock up from the prolonged length of time motionless. He was clutching the pad to his chest, fingers tapping at the back, some slightly smudged with grey graphite, and you inched closer to him.

“Can I see?”

“I haven’t decided yet.” He tried to laugh at his own comment, but was nervous, and you placed a hand over his gently, pulling it toward you slowly, and he gave no reluctance, but wasn’t moving of his own accord. “Okay, you can look, but you have to remember that I’m not good at drawing people, and I’m still high as fuck.”

You’d almost forgotten about that, and it was just now clicking with you why you’d been bold enough to do something like model for a sketch, your inhibitions lower, the boldness of nightfall giving you yet another boost in something that you’d never have done earlier in the day. Taking it from him, you turned it around, seeing the nervous look on his face before you were looking down at the sketch. His own worries had prepared you for the worst, but as you looked at it, you decided it wasn’t all that bad.

There was certainly work to be done, but he had the basic forms down, even you could tell that. It was clear that his skill lay elsewhere, the detailing of things like fins and scales was nothing like drawing the subtle imperfections of skin and the dips and dimples of a face, the creases where a fist held a head up nothing like the folds along the back of a monster, but he certainly had a grounding to work from, and you loved what you were seeing despite it all.

“I love it.”

“You’re totally lying to me.” He mumbled, and you shook your head, placing the notepad down, and fixing your attention on him. “It fuckin’ sucks.”

“It does not! I think it's really good. Especially since you said you had no practice, I was expecting something bad. This is so much better than you made it out to be.”

His lips flicked up at the sides, his head raising, bringing him a little closer to you as he straightened out, feeling better about it all now. “You should’ve seen some of the things I drew in high school. My portraits were awful back then, but I was drawing people while in the car, so it wasn't the smoothest of working places.”

“Yeah, well, I think you’ve come a long way since high school, and I think you’re really talented.”

He hummed, eyes flicking down to your lips again, and this time, as he licked at his own, there was no excuse of artwork, or anything else, your heart jumping slightly in your chest. There was a moment, a second’s hesitation as you questioned whether this was what you wanted. There was time to stop, to pull back, his nose bumping yours lightly, warm breath washing over your mouth, and you were a second away from closing the gap, before loud knocking was sounding at the door, and making the decision for you.

Pulling back, his gaze went over your head, brows furrowing as he stared at the door. “Hello?”

You winced at the loud shout, and he mumbled an apology upon realising it, slight disappointment surging through you, but not as much as relief. You were growing more and more attached to this man, but at the end of the snowstorm, you’d still have to leave, and he was still a stranger. You were high, and the romanticism of the situation was morphing things to look rose-tinted and alluring, and you wanted to be of a rational mind to make a decision like that. “Hey, Joel! It’s Mandy, I was wondering if you would grab your stuff from the laundry room, so I can put a couple of loads through?”

His eyes went wide, gaze dropping to your own for a second. “Shit, I totally forgot about the laundry!”

His hand slipped down to yours, fingers lacing together as he tugged you up from the floor, handing you the basket that had been discarded hours ago, and he opened the door, an older woman who looked positively exhausted, arms full of boy’s clothing, and you pitied her knowing that she must be trapped in a shoebox apartment with a son who would be bouncing off of the walls and unable to burn off that energy.

“Sorry, Mandy, I forgot about it. We’ll grab it now.”

“We?” You muttered, the woman’s eyes flickering over you in amusement, and you were tugged out of the apartment and towards the stairs quickly, hearing the door close behind you, and the much slower steps of the tired mother as she trailed you.

The concrete was cold underfoot, especially the lower you got, and you hissed as your sock-covered feet hit the icy stone, never having had a chance to put on your shoes. Putting the container down, he opened it up, steam curling out into the air, even though the dryer had been finished for hours.

‘You couldn't have let me put my jumper on before we came down here? It’s literally freezing over right outside that window.” You mumbled, Joel turning to you, and he cringed a little, as though he had only just remembered the scrap of fabric you were wearing as a top. Pulling an armful of the warm clothing, he sorted through them, pulling a cosy looking jacket from within, and wrapping it over your shoulders. Heat seeped back into your body, warmed from the machine, and you barely noticed the mother entering the room, waiting for Joel to clear his clothes out, watching as you ripped the hoodie up along the front of your body, hood pulled up and hands made into paws by the long sleeves.

“You look cute.”

“I look cold.” You retorted, and he only rolled his eyes, but Mandy laughed, and that was enough recognition for you.

“Yeah, well, we can make some hot food when we get upstairs and you’ll be fine, how about that?” He sat the collection under one arm, offering his other hand to you, and you pushed up the sleeve of the borrowed hoodie, weaving your fingers with his as he guided you from the room.

“I’ve been waiting for this minestrone you’ve been boasting about. I need to see if it lives up to the hype.

“Hey, everyone loves my minestrone!” He backed his way into the home, dropping your hand in order to place down the basket that wouldn’t be looked at for hours now, you were sure. He ushered you into the kitchen, hurting you along until his hands were tickling at your sides and you were squirming under his touch, laugh loudly as he pushed you into the little room.

You worked alongside him, trying to take in the information he was giving to you but it was hard, because the little things he was doing were distracting you. The way in which his hands moved as he chopped the vegetables or prepare the meat, the passionate easy his voice sounded as he told you all about it, his eyes sparkling a little while instructing you, and the little jokes he’d make while bumping you out of the way with his hip, or guiding you around with nudges of his elbow or shoulders.

While cooking, he opened up a little, a story that you’d never have expected to learn from him, but he told you anyway. His parents had died in a car accident when he was young, too young to really remember them, but he’s been allowed to take several boxes of things with him to his foster home as he waited for adoption, and he’d taken his mother’s recipe book as one of those items.

When he’d been adopted, a man whose family had died and he’d become a foster parent, had helped him experiment with his cooking and drawing, instead of forcing him into typical paths for men to take, making him become a football player or a lawyer like he’d expected he’d end up after leaving the system.

A younger sister, also adopted from another family called Minnow, and a dog adopted from a shelter called ‘Boy’, and suddenly, in the space of time that it had taken to make the meal, delicious smell floating around you, he’d spilled to you his history, and you’d listened quietly as he got it off his chest, figuring out somewhere along the way that you were probably one of the only people to ever know this story.

You weren’t sure if that brought you comfort or not, whether he was telling you out of trust and connection, or whether he was telling you because he knew that you’d never see one another again after today, and so he didn’t mind sharing his deepest protected truths. During the heavy discussion, the nibbling of food and the time passing you by, the high you’d once claimed was beginning to fizzle out, everything coming back to sharpness once again, and yet somehow, just by being in his presence, you still felt that same freedom.

When you were sitting back at the table, he was staring at you with excitement now, watching as you lifted a spoonful of the concoction to your lips to try it, seemingly leaving behind the heavy conversation that had taken place as he simply moved on. You took a longer than needed time to assess it, humming contemplatively just to put him through his paces, before finally giving in.

“Okay, this is really good, I’ll give you that.”

“I told you so!” He cheered loudly, arms thrown up in the air, and you laughed a little, tucking into your meal, and wiping up one of the bread rolls that he'd placed into the middle of the table for you both.

You were tempted to ask him for the recipe, knowing that one day you’d be craving it again, and yet, you weren’t sure if you could, whether it would be appropriate or whether that would be crossing a line, to ask to take away a piece of something that he shared with his late mother.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.” You spoke, tearing off a mouthful of bread roll after dipping it into the soup mix, and chewing slowly as you waited for him to reply.  

“Did you mean it?” You paused your chewing, confusion making itself known on your face as you silently questioned what he meant, stirring your dinner with your spoon as you waited for him to elaborate, and he swallowed his mouthful to do so. “When you said my name sounded like a first draft of a name.”

For the umpteenth time today, embarrassment and regret was flooding through you, and you took your time to finish the food you were eating, his gaze lingering on you as he waited. When you couldn't stall any longer, you sipped at your water, before giving in. “Yes, I did.” His mouth pursed into a thin line, and you reached a hand out across the table, trying to contain your amusement. “Like, a really good first draft, though, almost there!”

“Nice save.”

Silence fell between you both once again, eating food in a comfortable quiet, and once again the direct parallel to this morning’s porridge struck through you, only twelve hours having passed and yet absolutely everything was different between you both. You couldn't put your finger on what it was about him, something that had caught your attention the first time around had now got you captive again, and there was just something adorably charming about everything he did.

Handsome but bashful, shy but cocky, always making jokes but somehow being able to jump right into something deep and meaningful too, and you’d closed yourself off for so long that it was a little scary for everything you were feeling to come rushing back all at once.

You hadn't had a crush since high school, and you weren’t sure if you liked the idea of one forming now.

“What about the other thing, did you mean that, too?” You searched your mind, reliving that argument as you tried to work out what he was referring to, and you almost dropped your spoon as it all came crashing down, remembering the harsh words that you’d spat in the eat of the moment, and yet it didn’t make them any less true. You only nodded your head, and he let out a loud groan, pouting a little. “Well, that fucking sucks.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, it’s really hard to do! Women are just better at doing that themselves, y’know? We don’t have to talk about it.”

“That doesn't help! You can’t just, like, drop a bomb on me like that; ‘hey, maybe you've never made a girl come in your entire freakin’ life’ and then say you don’t want to talk about it!” He pushed his empty dish away from himself, and your brows raised, arms crossing over atop the table, staring at him critically, and deciding you were finished with your food. “I want to talk!”

“No way! Guys can't handle constructive criticism like that! We’ll end up just like we were this morning, and then we’ll be back to square one! I like how we are now!”

“No! I promise you, I can take it. Just, help me out, here?” He reached out, pushing the dishes out of the way so that nothing was in the way, putting on his best puppy dog eyes. “You help me, I’ll help you.”

“What do you mean help me? You think you got pointers for me?”

“This isn’t a one-way street! Last night was awesome, but you could improve on a few things too. Guess you’ll never know, now, though.” He sighed, glancing off over your head, and you knew it was bait, some very obvious bait at that, and you hated to fall for it, but your own insecurities were getting the best of you, and you huffed loudly.

“Fine!” He turned back to you, a wicked smile on his lips as he realised that clearly, he had won. “I bite, you got me. Go!”

“Okay, this isn't just you, I just wanna’ make that clear to start with.” You raised a brow, leaning back in your chair, arm still crossed and listening intently. “What is with the whole lights off, thing? The fuck is that? If the lights are off, like you requested and I so gentlemanly obliged, I could be having sex with anything! I don’t want to be having sex with anything, I want to be having sex with you.” He paused, eyes darting away from you for only a second, and he wet his lips. “Or, y’know, whoever it is I’m with.”

“Lights on? Wow, and all guys feel this way?” He opened his mouth to reply, before you were letting out a loud ‘booing’ sound. “Duh! Girls hear that more than ‘hello’. That’s all you got?”

“Okay, okay, alright.” He smirked slightly, leaning forwards and resting his forearms on the table. “You, and by you, I mean women in general, do this thing where you stand up, and kinda’ turn away, and then get undressed, like, super-fast. Like you’re at the doctors or something, getting a physical!”

“I’ve never had any complaints about how fast I undress before. Most guys like naked me.”

“I love naked you.” He dropped his gaze, scanning along your body, and you threw a bread roll at him as you realised he was remembering you without your clothes on from the night before, the soft accompaniment bouncing from his head and rolling over the table. “Hey! I’m just saying! Naked you is awesome to look at, and touch, but what I mean is that you could make the getting to being naked part a little more exciting.”

“Exciting?”

“Yeah! You know, do that whole slow bra thing, take it off to the side. Drop it in that sexy way. Do that little ass thing with your panties, y’know, where you just-” He wiggled in his seat, demonstrating the little as movement that all girls did with their panties when they wanted to feel a little sexy. “All I’m saying is that guys like the undressing part too, make it more of a.. thing.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes, actually. One more thing.” He paused, this seemingly the one he was most nervous about, and you leaned forward on your elbows, watching him lean in a little too, rolling his lips before speaking. “When I was inside of you, you did this thing. You started helping yourself a little bit, it kind of made me feel like I was being benched. Second-string, forgotten.”

“Duly noted.” You mumbled, and he shrugged a little, the space between you both going void of sound but crackling with electricity. “Is it my turn now?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, first of all, I don’t know who taught guys to do that alphabet thing with their tongue, but it kind of makes me feel like I’m Helen Keller being fucked by her teacher.”

“That’s not a fantasy of yours?” He faked shock, and you tried to cover up your laugh to keep the conversation as serious as you could, and he tried to still himself, nodding for you to continue.

“There was this one moment, during foreplay, where I was close to coming, and I’m pretty sure I subtly pointed it out. Do you remember what I said?”

“Uh, ‘I’m close to coming’?”

“Yes, that’s it!” He scowled falsely, unsure where you were going with this, and it was your turn to smirk a little. “Right after I said that, you totally switched up what you were doing. What was the thought process there? If you had me right there at third, home base in sight, why would you start running in a different direction?”

“Okay, got it. That’s actually helpful.”

“All my tips are helpful! Like, also, you waited for me to undress you. Which was awkward, and a little weird, don’t do that.” You were almost out of advice, pausing for a second to think. “When a girl helps out, that's a good thing! This is sex, not a competition, my ex was weird about that too, just embrace the team spirit, it makes it better for everyone.” He nodded, and you felt a little out of breath, but a weight lifted off your shoulders. “Oh! Yeah, you went too fast. I felt like I was being drilled for oil. Girls want fast, but also slow. Kinda’ felt like you were in a rush, had somewhere better to be.”

“Trust me, I didn’t.”

“Obviously.” You teased, and he grinned, taking in all the information you were giving him. “Lastly, I guess it’s just after. Like, as soon as we finished, you retreated to the other side of the bed like you’d planted a bomb down there. Stick around, hold a girl, count to ten or something. That one will get you a long way, trust me.”

“Cuddling. Noted.”

“Other than that, you were a perfectly adequate lover.” He gaped at you a little, and his whole body sagged.

“Adequate? What a way to boost a guy’s ego.”

“See, I knew this would happen, you’re-”

“Fine! I’m fine!” He reached out, placing a hand over one of yours, and squeezing comfortingly. “Seriously, now I know. I can make use of that advice next time.” He offered you a smile, and you tried to return it, nervous butterflies making you feel a little nauseous as you tried to settle yourself, no indication that he was angry or upset with you. “You said something about your ex in there, y’know. Is that why you broke up, crappy sex?”

You knew it was meant as a joke, something to lighten the mood, but your stomach dropped. “Uh, no.” You cleared your throat, hands pulling from his to clasp them in your lap as you looked away. “That would’ve been because I found him in our bed with one of my friends.”

The air went dead, silence encased you, and you heard the legs of his chair scrape on the floor as he pushed it back. Kneeling in front of you, he took your hands in his, forcing you to meet his eye. “I’m really sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up.”

“It’s okay. At least I know she isn't getting much.”

He chuckled, but it was dry and empty, and he reached up, brushing a thumb over your cheek. “For the record, I think he’s a dipshit. You’re an amazing girl, anybody who would cheat on you isn’t worth you.”

“Thanks, Joel.”

He stood up, pulling you with him, until you were standing up once again. “Go find another film. I’ll get us all sorted here. Anything you want, it’ll cheer you up.” You waited a moment longer, ready to do as he’d said, before a set of lips were brushing against your forehead, and your breath hitched in your throat. Pressing into the touch just a little, it was almost embarrassing how you reacted, how much you’d missed simple affections, how it felt to be excited around someone instead of just bored or dreading having to see them, the excitement of once again experiencing the thrill of something invigorating and new. “I’m honestly sorry for bringing it up.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Kinda’ is.” He mumbled, fingers playing with yours lightly where your hands were still hanging connected, and the whole experience was a little different. This wasn’t a near-miss kiss while high after the intimacy of drawing one another, nor was it holding hands in the rush to get to the laundry room while hopped up on adrenaline and a little embarrassment. “He’s a moron, and he didn’t deserve you. Neither did your friend, if she’d do something like that to you.”

“They deserve each other.”

“Atta’ girl.” He teased, squeezing your hand once more, before letting you go, and as you settled down onto the couch cushions, you had to try hard just to steady your racing heart as you scroll through movies on Netflix, perched happily along the couch, but it was a little chilly, the space heater was barely holding its own against the chill of the outside.

“You got any blankets?” You didn’t even bother turning your head as you shouted the words, still exploring the film choices, and this time, you went for something a little more exciting. A ‘Mission Impossible’ movie was always a hit, right? Everybody loves Tom Cruise.

“Yes, I do.” You jumped, never having heard him moving around, and he stood before you, a fluffy looking blanket bundled in his arms, and you made grabby-hands for it with a grin. He shook his head, slumping down beside you on the ouch, and you bounced a little with the movements he made. “What, you think I read your mind? This blanket is for me, but I might just share it with you.”

“Yeah, what’s the catch?”

“You have to smile, so I know you’re really okay.” You couldn’t help it, trying to bite back the grin on your face as you flushed with shy heat, and he whooped loudly upon seeing the expression. Spreading the blanket out across you both, his fingers brushed across your skin, tucking it around your thighs and over your waist as he and sure you were covered, before his arm was stretching out along the back of the couch behind you.

“You’re too smooth for your own good.”

“Don’t get used to it, I’m incredibly awkward and not nearly as brave, usually.” You rolled your eyes, nudging your shoulder against his but not bothering to say anything, and starting up the movie.

Tucking your legs underneath yourself, you adjusted the blanket, your feet cold as you lifted them up from the cooled flooring, and directing your attention over to your phone. It had been hours since you’d check it, since you'd even felt the need to know whether anyone else had been in touch with you, and even as that realisation came to mind, you still didn’t budge to collect it.

Earlier in the day, you had been bitter and wishing to be home, where you’d inevitably only be locked up tight in your own bedroom and watching movies to pass the time away, listening to Sophie and her boyfriend move around the apartment, trapped in permanently third-wheeling until the snow melted. Now, you were happy, knowing that you’d made a new friend, and that you were at least venturing back out into the world for the first time since having your heart broken.

A hand came down, fingers playing with the edges of your hair lightly, twirling a light strand between his fingers, and as you swept your gaze over the man a foot or so away from you on the couch, his eyes were still fixed on the screen of the television. His fingers brushed against your neck occasionally, and each time, you had to suppress the urge to shiver. It was an invitation, the changing for day to night once again shifting everything between you both, unspoken words to invite you closer, easy for you to choose to take, or not to take, and nothing would be said about it at all.

Your entire body ran over with goosebumps, and your fingers picked lightly at the blanket, unsure of which move you wanted to make. On the one hand, you could definitely take that step, move a little closer and risk falling into that again, or you could stay where you were, play it safe and not risk a thing. Fold your cards and wait for the next round.

“I’ll just be a minute, okay?”

You stood up, his hand falling away from yourself and the blanket laying down on the couch, and he nodded his head, a barely present smile on his face as he nodded his head, and you slipped away, giving yourself just a moment to think as you disappeared to the bathroom. Closing the door behind yourself, you leaned back against it, letting out a deep breath and trying to clear your mind, weighing the pros and cons of where this night might go.

Shaking yourself down a little, you felt the tension flee from your body, and you placed your hands onto the sink, staring at yourself in the mirror hanging over it. You were always playing it safe, always had, and maybe that’s why your ex had adventured and found excitement somewhere else, needing the thrill of it, because you never took risks.

If you hadn't taken a risk last night, you wouldn't be here now, and after all, you’d had a great day. Maybe it would blow up and backfire, maybe when the snow melted you’d never see him again, maybe it wouldn't work out, but you’d never know if you didn’t at least try.

“Oh, woman up. For once in your life.” You muttered, running the water and splashing a little of the cool liquid over your face, refreshing yourself with just how icy cold it was, a little hiss leaving you. Shaking your hands off and patting your face dry, you ran a hand through your hair, deciding you were ready. Uncapping the toothpaste, you took a small chunk from it on your finger, placing the blob onto your tongue and licking it around your mouth for freshness, doing the best you could to clean your teeth a little, before using your hands as a cup and rinsing with some water.

At least you felt a little fresher and more alluring now. A good confidence booster, because fuck it, you were all in.

Stepping back out into the main room, you undid the zipper on the hoodie of his that you’d borrowed, letting it hang open along the front, the thin satin of your camisole on display, the material falling away from one shoulder as it hung baggy on your body now that it was open. Upon your return, he turned to look at you, lips parting a little as his eyes flickered along your body, gaze lingering on the exposed skin of your shoulder, your arms, the midriff shown between the edge of your top and the hem of your leggings, before his jaw was snapping shut, and he met your eyes again, only for a split second, before looking back to the movie.

Lifting the edge of the blanket, you sat a little closer to him than you had been before, your arm brushing against his side as you got comfy, and you heard him let out a slightly shaky breath, fingers tapping against the back of the couch, behind where your head had once been, now further down the couch as you sat close enough to smell the lingering aftershave on his skin.

Five long minutes passed, and you almost thought you’d overstepped, that he didn’t want this as much as you thought he would, that the connection was one-sided, but then his hand slipped down, fingers brushing over the bare skin of your shoulder on the side where the jacket had dipped down, nails scraping slightly, before the rest of his arm followed. Slipping it around your shoulders, his hand hung over you, playing lightly with the spaghetti strap of your top, running along the silky material, under it, playing with it in slow and absentminded patterns, and you contained yourself from celebrating out loud, or doing something that wouldn't be considered as ‘playing it cool’.

You paused, giving it just enough time, the feeling of roughened fingertips rubbing along your skin, and after a moment, you realised it was being inched a little further over. As the strap fell away, falling over your arm again, his movements paused, everything going still for just a second, before his fingertips were pressing to bare skin again. Twisting towards him a little more, you pressed up to his side, lifting a leg until the lower half of your legs were tangled together as they sat ahead of you, propped up on the coffee table.

He hummed a little under his breath, your head adjusting to rest on his shoulder, and he dared to reach his fingers a little lower than just along your shoulder, brushing as far as the undersides of your collarbones, and you cuddled in a little closer to him still.

“I can’t stop thinking about what you said.” His words were gruff, voice low and gravelling as he kept his tone to just above a whisper, and you rolled your lips together for a second, trying to settle on your words.

“And what would that be?”

“Well, y’know, all the improvements I could make. I’ve been thinking about it.” You only hummed, fingers smoothing over his stomach and across towards his side until you were holding onto him, and the muscles underneath tensed and rippled under the soft cotton tee he was wearing. “But, I’d never really know if I was getting it right until I put it into practice.”

“Well, that does make sense.”

“Yeah, and I mean, I’d need someone who could tell me, give me real talk.” He was continuing on with the rouse, the playful energy between you both sparkling, and the movie was long-forgotten, simply becoming background noise.

“Makes sense. Someone to guide you as you go.”

“Exactly.” He mumbled, turning himself enough to drag the tip of his nose over your cheek, and you tipped your head back a little, making it easier for him as his lips brushed your cheek. “Know anyone up for the task?”

“I think I might know someone.” You whispered, hand coming up to lace into his hair, and he rumbled happily at the scrape of your nails over his scalp.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You promised, and he grinned, shifting enough to let his mouth slant across yours, a kiss that was more than overdue. Lifting a hand to sit on his jaw, he pressed into you a little further, one hand still behind the couch, while the other was sliding down to find your waist, the blanket falling away and the movie becoming nothing but background noise as his lips worked softly with your own.

You’d expected hot and sloppy, but he was taking it slower this time, sweet and passionate, not nearly as desperate as you’d been anticipating, and your heart was racing in your chest with the tenderness in which he kissed you. Once the blanket was kicked from your legs, his hand dipped a little lower, smoothing around your lower back, and pulling you in towards him until you could drape a leg over his thighs. Settling into his lap, both of hands were sitting low on your hips, teeth grazing along your lower lip as the what between you both seemed to double, and you pressed a little closer into him.

“Put your hands, just-” You took a hold of his wrists, lowering his hands a little, your forehead pressed to his as you pushed them around until he could hold fistfuls of your ass through your leggings, squeezing tightly, and you keened into his touch. Rocking your hips down into his own, you gasped, his grunt at the feeling being silenced as your lips closed back over his, and he hummed happily when your tongue dragged slowly against his.

For each rock you made down into him, his hips were jumping, small thrust upwards to meet you, and it became more frantic with every little movement. He was growing underneath you, the material of his sweats doing little to hide the hardening cock that seemed to twitch and jump each time you dragged your core along his length, even through the layers of material, and you could feel yourself growing wetter and weather, uncomfortably so the longer your went, but the pressure was perfect, an orgasm already beginning to grow within you.

When the burn for oxygen became too much, he pulled back, lips worked along your jaw slowly, soft sucks that weren’t hard enough to leave bruises but sent sparks of electricity and excitement flooding through you each time, nips at your skin as he worked his way down your neck, until he was biting teasingly at the shoulder with the strap of your top still hanging over your arm, bare skin exposed to him. “You know, not a criticism, just a compliment, but you really got kissing down to an art.”

He chuckled against your skin, a little breathless, but still enough to make you tremble at the feeling, before he was making his way back up to you, nose dragging over your skin until his mouth could brush against yours. “Is that so?”

“Totally.” You mumbled, your hand slipping into his hair to hold onto a fistful as his mouth crashed back into your own, and he put those skills to good use. He all but knocked the oxygen from your lungs with the intensity of it, leaving your head spinning and lungs burning but you were unable to pull away, the addictive way that his mouth worked with your own, so sensual and intimate that you were flaring up with heat, and you finally knew what it felt like when people said there were fireworks in a kiss, because you felt as though the fourth of July was exploding around you.

“Bedroom?”

“Absolutely.” You mumbled, having to tear yourself away from his kisses, diving back in a few times, before finally, you managed to pull yourself away. You took his hands in your own, pulling him up with you as the two of you moved, and his hands found your hips, guiding you in your backwards walking steps as he followed behind you; foreheads pressed together, occasionally pressing sweet kisses to one another, giggles shared into the air between you until you came to a stop in the doorway.

Turning around, you paused, more of a laugh erupting from you.

“First criticism, messy sheets is a turn off.” He sounded confused for a second, mouth leaving where he had been kissing along your neck, his head coming up to take a look, and he huffed a little.

“Right, yeah, forgot about that. Let me just-” He moved away, on side of the bed to straighten the blankets out, pushing the pillows back up to the top end of the bed, and you helped out, smoothing over them until the job was done haphazardly, but at least it least it was no longer messy, and he stood on the opposite side from you, hands on his hips for a second. “Better?”

“Much.” He nodded his head, licking over his lips, and taking the lower one prisoner as his gaze swept over you, His hair was a little messy, cheeks flushed and lips swollen, and you were certain that you looked exactly the same, the tension between the two of you sizzling. You couldn't handle it, the two of you meeting halfway as you knelt on the bed, his body colliding with yours and lips meeting in frenzied kisses as you connected again.

He reached a hand behind his head, tugging his shirt up and away from his body, a delicious display of flexing muscles and veiny forearms as he discarded of it, shaking the hair that flopped down into his face free.

“That was hot.”

“All I did was take off my shirt?” He whispered, pulling back when you tried to kiss him so that he could raise his brows in silent questioning.

“We like that. When you do that whole ‘taking your shirt off with one hand behind your head’ thing. Plus, you just looked good while doing it.” He looked down at himself, before back up to you, hands cupping your face to bring you in closer to him, and he pressed a series of pecks to your lips, until you were laughing lightly and pushing him back with hands spread over his chest.

He followed you as you stood, and you undid the rest of the zip on the hoodie, letting it fall open, and down your arms slowly, and he watched it go, until the material was crumpled in a pile around your feet. Placing your hands on his chest, you pushed him backwards, until his knees were buckling against the mattress and he was sitting down, staring up at you with wide eyes and parted lips, waiting for your next move. With a finger under his chin, you tipped his face upwards, enough to be able to peck his lips, before you were stepping away from him.

Turning away, you heard him shuffling, the ruffling of material and the slight creaking of the bed, before it was silent, and you took a steadying breath. Crossing your arms over your middle, you tugged the satin top up slowly, brushing your own fingers over your skin, and you heard him groan behind you as it hit the floor, hair falling back down your back upon being freed from the material. Hooking your fingers into the edge of your leggings, you peeled them down your legs, bending at the waist, and removing them from your feet, slowly, before turning back to face him, clad only in your panties.

His eyes were half-lidded, and jaw hanging slack, only clad in his boxers now, but he was palming himself through the material as he sat propped up in the pillows, and you rounded to his side of the bed, one of his hands reaching out for you, and you took it, a gentle hold as his fingers weaved with yours.

“How was that?”

“So fucking hot.” He mumbled, the hand that he had been using to rub at his hard cock through his boxers came free, a wet patch left across the front of the pale checkered fabric, precum soaking into them and your thighs clenched at the idea of having that effect on him. Running the tip of one finger under the waistband of your panties, he tugged you a little closer to him still, before snapping the elastic against your skin. “What about these?”

“Figured you might want to do that.”

Your eyes dropped to his mouth, before meeting his gaze again, only a split second slip, but he was smirking, clearly having seen it. Before you could even process what he was doing, his arms had wrapped around your middle, twisting you around and lifting you to lay in the bed beside where he had been, your head in the pillows and his arms holding him up on either side of you, and you panted a little, the yelp that had left you making you breathless.

“Holy shit.”

“Couldn’t help it. You say dirty things and it makes me feel a little wild.” His legs were caging you in, moving lower and lower as he kissed his way over your collarbones, lips and tongue leaving wet trails between your breasts as he lowered himself further and further.

“Wild is good. I like wild.”

“Hm, I hope so.” He whispered the words, tongue grazing along the sensitive skin above your panties, before he was tapping at your hips with his fingers, and you were lifting them for him to shimmy your panties down. Once you were bare before him, you grew a little shy once again, legs snapping shut, and he chuckled, a hand landing on each knee, and he pressed kisses along the tops of your thighs. “Please don’t be shy, gorgeous. You’re so damn beautiful, you have nothing to be shy about.”

Squeezing his hands at your knees, you twitched a little, pushing yourself up onto your elbows to peer down at him, and he grinned, pressing a kiss to your stomach, before leaning up and pressing an equally quick but sweet kiss to your lips.

“Open up your pretty legs for me, yeah?”

You couldn't hold back, the way he was talking to you and touching you, loving caresses that soothed your nerves, and he groaned under his breath as your slick core was revealed to him. Legs bending at the knees, you planted your feet flat on the bedding, and he was able to settle on his stomach between them, hot breath fanning over your core.

His arms wrapped around your thighs, fingertips digging into them roughly, and he rubbed a hand up and down them slowly, the twitching in your gut coming to a still as he still managed to find time and sentience to ease your nerves as he pressed his mouth in sweet kisses along the insides of your thighs, biting a little at the top and chuckling as he felt you jerk in surprised shock. Lacing a hand into his hair just as his mouth moved to close over your core, you tugged lightly, his eyes flickering up to find yours. “What’s wrong, gorgeous? Did I mess something up?”

“No, no, you’re perfect.” Your words were panted out, and you were trembling while holding yourself up, but you shook your mind clear, trying to focus enough to break through the haze. “Just wanted to say thank you. You’re being such a sweetheart, I don’t think I’ve ever felt this confident before, so before my mind completely clears, I wanted to say that.”

He paused, a look flicking over his features to expose that he clearly didn’t expect that, and there was a much more adoring smile on his face as he processed your words. “It’s my pleasure, you’re worth it, and you deserve a guy to treat you like the special and incredible woman that you are.”

You choked a little on your breath, unsure of how to reply, so you swallowed the lump in your throat, nodding your head, before pushing his back down a little. “Okay, enough heart-to-heart crap. You can continue now.”

“As you wish, princess.”

He dragged his tongue once along your core slowly, and you took a sharp inhale of breath, the feeling of a hot and wet mouth working over you was something that you’d sorely missed, and while Joel had gone down on you yesterday too, this would be so much better and you already knew it. Instead of rushed and nervous, it was erotic and confident, sure in your movements, and sure that he could be the best you’d ever had, you could tell just from the way this night was going so far, that these memories would be burned in your mind for the rest of your life.

Rubbing a thumb over your clit, he chuckled at the way your thighs trembled slightly, before he was pulling away, diving in to replace his finger with his mouth. Lips sucking at the little bud, your fingers tightened in his hair, back arching at the feeling, and he licked over the bud, before repeating the process. Again, and again, and then, he was replacing his movements. Tongue flicking out, rapid kitten licks over the bud, and you squealed a little, thighs clamping around his head as you did, and you whined a little.

“Wait, Joel!” He paused after a moment, your entire body still tingling with the feeling of his mouth, but your legs loosened as he pulled them open, brows raising at you, and slick was already glistening on his chin. “Good, but can be better. Start slow, don’t go right in, tease me a little. Speed up when I’m closer, okay?”

“I thought girls hated being teased?”

“We can love it, if you do it right. You’ll know when to speed up, okay? Start slow, add a finger, then another, speed up when I’m getting close.” He nodded his head, a lopsided smile on his face, and he was taking your advice. He started slow, a long and torturous drag of his tongue over your core, and then again, before his tongue circled your entrance for a moment, barely dipping inside long enough to matter, but then he lapped at your core again. Lips sealing around your clit, he sucked harshly, your back arching up from the bed, your free hand finding purchase tangling in the bedding, and you moaned, loudly. “Fuck, yes, Joel. Just like that.”

He groaned into your body, the feeling reverberating along your skin, and one hand moved from your thigh, slipping along and disappearing from your skin until the tip of one nimble digit was circling your entrance, rubbing lightly across your weeping hole. Filthy sounds were already filling the room, and your mind was going completely blank, the only thing you could process right now was the movements of his mouth against you, tongue and lips working in tandem to drive you crazy as you bucked up into him, holding his face against your core as he slurped and sucked at every drop you had to release.

Slipping that finger into you, he had clearly taken our tip on teasing, because he only sunk it within you to the first knuckle, barely present at all, and yet your walls were clamping around him greedily, desperately trying to draw him deeper in as you felt him twist it a little, circling the finger and beginning to stretch you out, crooking it at the knuckle and tugging a little in your entrance as he began to pump it. A cry of his name left you as he bit down on your swollen clit lightly, the bud throbbing in response, and your entire body jumped at the sensation, loving the way he was taking control with it now.

Each time his finger dipped back into you, he sank a little further, his finger and tongue working in harmony, the same pace with their movements, and your entire body was layered in a thin sheen of shining sweat as he took you apart piece by piece. His hips were grinding down into the covers as he worked, the rustling of the covers giving it away, and he was grunting and growling against your every so often, his eyes closed as he enjoyed his motions just as much as you did, and you forced your hand free from him hair as you realised just how tight your fist had gotten. Just when you thought you might be getting used to this feeling, that you might be able to clear the fog in your mind enough to think straight, he sensed it, upping his ministrations.

“Fuck, Joel!” The coil in your stomach wound up ten times tighter in a matter of seconds as that dull tingling at your entrance made itself known, a second finger taking you by surprise as it plunged inside of you, and your back arched up so high your hips followed, borderline screaming as he picked up his pace. “I-I’m going to-”

“Come? Do it, come on, gorgeous. Give me all you got.” Faster movements, the tandem between his fingers and his mouth going to shit, as he continued to work his fingers in and out of you slowly, but his tongue was picking up his pace again. Switching between sucking and licking, you could barely process what was happening each time, and tears lined your eyes as you felt fire beginning to consume you.

Heat flooded your body, bliss filling every cell in your body and coursing through you until it was all-consuming, and you unravelled against him in a fit of squirming screams, his hands holding you to his mouth as he rode you through the pleasure, two fingers stretching you wide and scissoring you open each time, never giving up on his movements until you couldn't take it anymore.

You pushed him away, panting and gasping for breath, and his eyes were blown with lust as he pulled away, cheeks and chin shining with your arousal, your hand falling over your chest, feeling the erratic beating of your heart under your palm as your eyes closed, trying to contain the way you were feeling. Your throat was already scratchy, growing rough from the calls and cries of his name that you’d released.

“Good?”

“Is that even a question?” You teased, and he collapsed down into the bed beside you, wiping the back of his hand over his jaw, before you leaned in to kiss him, taking his lips with your own, and he let out a needy sound into your mouth as you did. He was rubbing at his jaw, pressing his lips lazily with your own as you kissed him, and he pressed you back down into the bed, leaning over you and letting his body press into yours.

One hand moved to his boxers, pushing them down, kicking them away until they were removed from his body. Leaning over you, a dripping cock brushed along your thigh, your leg raising up a little to rub against him, and he grunted into your mouth, biting down on your lower lip in warning, as he rooted through the nightstand to find a condom. Upon retrieving the package, he sat back on his heels, tearing it with his teeth and throwing the wrapper to the ground, a problem to be dealt with later, and he rolled the rubber along his length.

Long and flushed red, his cock was standing tall and proud, and you rubbed your thighs together a little, watching as he pumped himself slowly, eyes dragging over your body. You could see the cogs working in his mind, before he backed away from you entirely. Moving to the switch on the wall, he turned down the lights, leaving them on a little, but lowering them to a more comfortable level.

“Compromise?”

“I can work with that.” You offered, holding your hands out to him, and the bed bounced a little as he came to laying over the top of you. One leg was pressed between yours, and you shuffled, pressing yourself down against the muscle of his thigh, and a deep sound bubbled up from within him as you rode yourself against his thigh, kissing along his neck, and his head tipped back.

“For the record, I like hickies.”

You paused, a beat passing, before your mouth was sealing over the patch where his neck joined his shoulders, and he groaned loudly as you sucked at the skin harshly. Tipping his head back, his arms trembled a little dipping down until your chests were pressed together, and with every rolled of your core against his leg, your chest dragged over his, the friction making your nipples grown perky, and you whimpered into his neck, lapping at the spot you were abusing.

When you were finished, you pressed a sweet kiss over it, purple already beginning to blossom beneath the splotchy red on his pale skin, and he let out a shaky breath. Brushing your thumb over it, you smirked at the mark you’d made, before finally looking back up to him. Reaching a hand between your bodies, you took his cock in your hand, pumping slowly and watching as his jaw dropped slightly, before you were shifting your legs to accommodate his body and lining his length up at your core.

He rocked forwards, sinking into you slowly, and just like that, everything went fuzzy around you once again. It was like he was your only focus, everything was falling away until it was only him that remained, and your hands found his cheeks, pulling him down to kiss you. You were drowning in his touch, his hips nestled against your own as he gave you a moment to adjust to his size with you, that same twinge of an ache you’d felt this morning coming back in full force, but overpowered by the racing lust that was taking over.

When you felt ready, you clenched around him, curling your hips and feeling his cock shift within you, a gasp falling from you as the head of his cock brushed over your g-spot, and he took that chance to slip his tongue into your mouth. Hot and wet, everything felt like it was in overdrive as you lit up, and his hands were pressed into the mattress on either side of your head as he began to shift, hips drawing out of you, before sinking back in, and he took his time, moving slowly and waiting for you to tell him when he could speed up.

Lifting a leg up and onto his hip, he sank even deeper within you, your walls fluttering around him as you let out joint sounds of pure ecstasy, and his movements stuttered for only a moment at the feeling. One hand came down, fingertips digging into the muscle of your thighs so tightly that you’d be speckled with little polka dot bruises come morning, a sinful thought that made you head spin. You felt carefree, for the first time in your life, there was no doubts or anxiety, just the way it felt to be touched and cared for by him, the way his gaze swept so delicately over your face, or the way his lips puckered a little, curling up at the sides in a smile when your mouth pressed to his.

Hooking your hands under his arms, you encouraged him on, nails digging into his skin and dragging tracks into the flesh, his back arching up to push into your touch, and his pace began to pick up. He took his time, building the pace, and you’d never felt like this before. A high you’d never experienced was beginning to set in, your hips moving in time to match his thrusts.

He was panting into your mouth, hot and erotic as your foreheads remained pressed together, his lashes tickling against your cheeks, and every soft moan of your name that he let out made you want to scream out with pure bliss, because the way his voice cracked around your name made everything within you crumble. He made you weak, he made you completely fall apart, and you weren’t sure how or why, yet you found yourself loving it.

It was raw and exposed, your heart and soul open to him, and instead of crushing it like you’d grown to expect from everyone around you, he was taking care of it. You pushed up into him, pleasure surging through you, broken stutters of his name as he fucked into you, hard and fast, driving deep, and the tip of his cock was pressing to your g-spot each time, pinpoint accuracy as you weren't sure if he even knew that he was making stars flash behind your eyes.

“Joel, don’t stop! I’m so close!”

You moved, licking over two fingers, and making to slip them between your bodies to find your clit, to spur your orgasm on as best you could, but as you moved, he lifted a hand, snatching yours in his own and pinning it to the bed, and a loud moan rippled through you from the dominance he asserted. He seemed almost surprised, for only as second, before his brows were raising. “You liked that, huh? Shoulda’ told me.”

“That’s not general advice, you wanted general advice.”

He shook his head, leaning back down to brush the tip of his nose over your own. “Maybe I’d prefer it if you tailored the advice to yourself specifically. Tell me how to drive you wild.”

“Just keep doing what you’re doing, I like it when you take control of me a little bit.” He nodded his head, seeming to catch on, and he sat back leaving you laying in the bed as the angle changed. Two fingers prodded at your lips, and he raised his brows, waiting for you to draw them into your mouth, wetting the digits thoroughly for him. When he deemed them sufficiently slick, he pulled them back, trailing them down along your body, before pressing down roughly onto the neglected bud between your thighs, crying out for attention to push you over the edge.

As you tumbled into that bliss, he continued going, until your body was jerking and quivering underneath him, and you were crying out his name, clenching so hard around his cock that his head fell back as he gripped at your thigh with his other hand, kneeling between your parted legs and tucked snugly between your spasming walls. “Jeez, you’re so fucking tight.”

He collapsed down over you, sweaty and warm, covering your body with his entirety as he tried to catch his breath, and your eyes were still rolled back in your head, coming back to focus as you slipped back down to earth from the heaven he'd taken you to. “That was incredible.”

“You bet your cute little ass it was.”

You chuckled, feeling him shuffle, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. Locking your knees on either side of his hips, you flipped him over, his eyes wide as he found himself on his back, your hand finding his cock as you sank back down, shivering at the feeling as the aftermath of your last orgasm was still racing through you, and he let out a long and deep sound that vaguely resembled your name, hands finding your waist and pulling you the rest of the way down as he fucked up into you.

“You don’t have to, really-”

“You know, you’re pretty much the first guy I’ve ever been with who didn’t come first, and who genuinely cared about my pleasure.” Your nails scratched over his chest a little, making him shudder at your touch, before you were leaning down, hair drawing around you both, and he stared up at you in awe. “I want to make you feel good, too.”

He nodded, a hand tangling toughly in your hair, and he pulled you backwards, sitting up with you in his lap so that your legs could wrap around his waist more fully, your arms looping his neck, holding you as close as he possibly could. You whined at the feeling of your stinging scalp, loving the way he was manhandling you now, and he knew it too, his lips descending to your throat as he used his other hand to guide the movements of your hips.

“Tell me what to do, I don’t go on top a lot. Tell me what’s good, that’s what you’re supposed to do.” You were pleading with him, desperate to know how you could make him feel as good as you’d made him.

“What you’re doing right now is good.” He mumbled, but as you rolled your hips back down into his with what little space there was, his lips moving over your body until he could lean you back, taking a nipple between his lips and sucking one perky bud into his mouth. You cried out his name, his fist tangled into your hair to hold you still, and you tried to form thoughts, your first attempts at speaking coming out as broken stutters.

“Please, Joel..”

“Please what, gorgeous? Tell me what you need.” He cooed the words out, and you let out a desperate sound, your hips slamming down into his, and your hands found his chest, pushing him back into the bed, hearing the rush of breath he let out.

“Tell me what you want.”

He stared at you, blinking those beautiful brown eyes for a second, before giving in. “Honestly, I just want you to ride me like a pornstar. Go fucking wild, it’s so fucking sexy. When your tits bounce, and you slam yourself onto my cock, hair messy and a little sweaty, that's what I want.”

You nodded, swallowing thickly and bracing yourself on his chest, before you moved more solidly onto your knees, beginning to bounce against him. His jaw dropped, watching the movements of your chest, watching as you leaned back to show off the bouncing of your breasts before him as you built your confidence, and after getting past your anxieties, you were faced with the raging build of confidence that came with being on top.

He was staring at you like you’d put the lights in the sky, and you were, for once, glad that there were lights on to see him and for him to see you, to watch every movement you were making, because pure thrill was written on his face, adoration and lust as he stared, before you were taking one of his hands. Dragging it over your body, you sealed his fingers around one of your tits, pushing into his hands when he took control, fingers tweaking with your nipples, and he raised the other to do that same.

You were close, and you could tell he was too, the breathless way that he was beginning to chant your name on repeat, the way you were sure that the feeling of his cock tapping against every spot within you was going to be burned into your mind for the rest of your life, and the look on his face as he finally neared that peak.

“You look so fucking good. Taking what you want, riding me, absolutely perfect up there.”

“Only because that's how you want to see me, right now.” You whispered, and he shook his head, his hands finding your hips, waiting for you to lift yourself up, and as you did, he slammed you back down onto him, meeting you as he fucked up into you, and your body fell forwards in shock, barely catching yourself before your forehead hit his own, breath shared between you once again. His feet adjusted on the bed, bending at the knee to sit flat and he set a brutal pace, driving the both of you towards your final peak and he drilled into you.

Your eyes crossed, vision spotting, and a scream of his name was torn from you with force as you crashed into yet another earth-shattering orgasm at his touch, the sound of his cries of complete joy seeming muffled as he chased after you over the cliff, falling into orgasmic bliss. He rode the pair of you out, strained and weakening movements as your bodies trembled together, until finally, he stopped, completely sent off all energy, and you collapsed against his chest.

His heart was thudding against his chest under your cheek, your nails scratching lightly at the patch of dark hairs between lightly defined pecs, and he wrapped his arms around you. Rolling you to the side, he was reluctant to leave the bed, letting out a loud sound of distaste ta having to do so, but didn’t travel far, simply far enough to undo the rubber on his cock and tie it up, wrapping it in some tissues and dropping the crumpled heap into the bin.

When he came back over, he lay down beside you on his back, one hand under his head and the other stretched out towards you. As you lay on your stomach, shuffling closer to him, you lifted yourself onto your elbows, peering down at him with a small smile. “So, that was, like, the best sex ever. Right?”

You grinned, head ducking to hide the bashful expression you wore, but you were laughing nonetheless. “Ever.”

“I wish all girls were as cool as you. Like, sex would just be so much better if everyone just had that kind of communication, because, holy shit, that was mindblowing.” His hand came up beside his head, making an exploding noise as his fingers made the motion, as though his head really had exploded, and you grinned, feeling his fingers brush over your skin as he lowered it back down.

Quiet fell between you both, but it was comfortable, nice and easy-going, and you weren’t sure how to break the silence now, but neither was he, though it didn’t matter. When the temperatures that had risen in your body during your sinful act began to come back down, you found yourself cold once again, tucking yourself under the blankets and curling in a little closer to him, fingers brushing through his hair to distract yourself as he lay, staring up at you.

“Y’know, you said something, during it all..”

“You told me to give you advice! Don’t get pissy about it now.” Your joke was taken in good spirits, a loud laugh leaving him, and the burning gaze he’d mixed you with was broken for a few moments as his eyes closed to revel in his amusement, but when the laughter died down, he was looking at you again, with just as much intensity.

“Not that. You said you only thought you only looked good because I wanted you to look good.” His hand found your cheek, forcing you to find his gaze as he spoke. “That wasn’t true. You’re so fucking beautiful, and just because one dumbass broke your heart, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t think of yourself as not being worthy. It only leads to more heartbreak. Don’t let his stupid actions take away from your value.”

“You know, you’re real wise on all this stuff.” His thumb brushed over your lips, and you puckered your lips to press a kiss to the pad of the finger. “Who broke your heart, Joel?”

“What makes you think I’ve had my heart broken?”

“Takes one to know one.” You whispered, and he let out a little sigh, gaze trailing off to stare at the ceiling.

“Her name was Aimee. We were together in high-school. We got into different colleges, and I was so sure we could make a long-distance thing work.” You cringed a little, keeping it internal, already guessing where this was going, but letting him talk. “We did phone calls and video chats, and I went to see her so often, every chance I could, in first year. But then second year came, and everything got busy, and I didn’t get to see her as often as I would’ve liked. I was waiting for the summer break to go and see her. When I got there, things were different, she told me it had changed, that she’d fallen for someone else and just didn’t know how to tell me. She figured we’d just fizzle out, that we had been fading. We broke up officially, but, it didn’t hurt her as much as it hurt me.”

“I’m so sorry, Joel.”

“That’s alright.” He murmured, fingers tracing up and down your arm, and you settled into a comfortable quiet once again.

You were hesitant to admit it to yourself, but you were growing rather fond of the man, your hookup having become so much more. The snow, the cold weather, two broken hearts and a stupid hook up site, and suddenly, you’d found someone who had managed to change your life in a lot of little ways, all in just twenty-four hours.

You turned, finding the man already watching you, lips curled up in a sweet smile and eyes lazily drooped, simply watching you as the thoughts and feelings raced through your mind, and yet, under his gaze, they all seemed to go silent. The worries, the constant surge of ‘what ifs’ and ‘maybes’ all faded away, and you reached out a finger, tapping at the tip of his nose.

His expression somehow managed to morph into something even sweeter, practically giving you a toothache as his nose scrunched up adorably, before he was folding both hands under his head, moving to tangle his legs with yours, and simply sighing a little.

Golden and low lighting made his features seemed a little sharper, shadows on his face highlighting his jaw, cheekbones standing prominent and hair darker, and you knew just how soft it was, strands pushed back out of his face by you. The dark mark on his neck was making itself known now, and you were sure your own body would soon be littered in them, and you would check them all out with pride in the morning.

You turned to look at him again, drawing yourself back out of the spiral in your mind you’d once again fallen victim to, and meeting his gaze with a heatless huff. “What are you staring at?”

“Just.. you.” His brows pulled together a little, eyes sweeping across your face again in a way that made you feel raw and on the edge of your emotions. He lifted a hand, pushing your hair away behind your ears, before settling a hand over your jaw, and stroking his thumb across your skin slowly and soothingly.

“Yeah, well, don’t.” You whispered, voice cracking, and your gaze left his, but his touch never fell away, even when you tried to duck your head. “Don’t look at me like that, not unless you plan to act on it.”

“Oh, I would love to act on it. When this snow melts, I’d like to act on it properly.”

“Like.. a date?” You questioned, eyes flicking up to his for only a moment, and he was beaming what you did, toothy smile showing off his joy for only you to see.

“Exactly like a date, if you’ll have me?”

“Depends.” You murmured, shuffling in closer to him for warmth. “Can I share the bed with you tonight, or are you kicking me back out to the couch?”

He wrapped you up in his arms, pulling you down into his chest as the pair of you laughed, cocooning yourselves in the blankets with a series of rolls and twists, until you pressed up tightly together and locked in such a way. “There, now you’re not going anywhere.” He dipped down, pressing a kiss to your lips, one that you were eager to reciprocate. “Me and the bed are all yours, gorgeous.”

“I like the sound of that.”

[lalaangeldust]

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 & 𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

[ 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ] : none :)

[ 𝗳𝗲𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 ] : kaminari denki // bakugo katsuki // sero hanta

𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐤𝐢

ah yes, the bakusquad's resident pretty boy

he would definitely be the most obvious about his crush

two words: shitty flirting

horrible pick-up lines and just overall bad flirting

he pulls through sometimes though ( with sero's advice ) and his ego inflates through the roof if he can get you flustered and blushing

but if you give him the same energy, he will immediately combust

all function out the window

congratulations, you broke denki

none of your possessions are safe when denki is within the vicinity

shirts, hoodies, skirts, hats, jewelry, hair accessories

if he can grab it, he will have it

he has worn / stolen everything in your closet at least once, if not it is most definitely his goal

it does not matter if he fits it or not, he will make it work

he has no shame

but one time he stretched out one of your favorite skirts and it tore a bit and he felt soooo bad

"it not my fault i have a fat ass, y/n"

but he brought you to the mall on a date with him to get a new one, so it's all works out ;)

denki honestly just lives to make you laugh

every time he's the reason you're laughing, it makes his chest puff up so big

DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON MF TICKLING

if you two are close, he will without a doubt start a mock wrestling match and it always turns into a tickling fit with you pinned underneath him and wailing

but do NOT under any circumstances tickle him

he with shriek like a girl and accidentally activate his quirk

you nearly died

HE FELT BAD FOR THAT TOO

he's also just so infatuated with like- everything you do????

it doesn't matter how mundane you think it might be, as long as you're doing it, denki is so enthralled watching whatever it is you're doing

it's rather endearing

in all honesty, he'd probably blurt out he likes you outta no where while in the middle of a convo

he lights up every time your name is so much as mentioned

or- or

he'd be day dreaming, completely lost in his own world and someone would come up to him and ask him what he's thinking ab cus he looks basically dead to the world

still in a daze from being abruptly brought back to reality he'd just dreamily sigh, "y/n~" without even realizing

mans was SO embarrassed afterwards

face was beet red

*frantically looks around to see if you heard him or not*

----------------------------------------

bonus: love languages!!

physical touch // giving

words of affirmation // receiving

----------------------------------------

𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨 𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢

he's so emotionally constipated

that's not to say we wouldn't know he'd have feelings for you

he's actually pretty emotionally intelligent, and would be very perceptive of your emotions contrary to popular belief, he's just oblivious to his own feelings and emotions

he'd just ignore them

try his best to ignore you

key word try

but he always gives in and he'd make up dumb reasons to come bother you like-

he'd barge into your dorm while you're studying and he'd be like

"y/n i need a pen,"

"oh? uh ok, here you can have this one," you hand him a pen that you happened to have tucked behind your ear

"no not that one,"

...????

"can't you go to momo and ask her to make the pen you want..?"

bakugo starts to get grumpy at this point lmao

"no, she doesn't know how to make it,"

"well, what pen do you want..??"

bakugo hesitates cus he doesn't wanna admit that he doesn't actually want a pen, he wants to be with you

"that one," he lamely points at a beat up tinkerbell pen that you've had since you were like twelve

"really?? out of all the pens you choose that one?"

"shut up and just get it"

"... you can grab it,"

he goes and grabs it and goes to walk out the door without a word and right before he leaves he leans back and looks at you

"i need a pencil"

"OH MY GOD BAKUGO"

he kept the tinkerbell pen btw

like denki, bakugo would steal things from your dorm and not just anything, things that are actually inconvenient to misplace

he'd take your bobby pin container or your favorite brush so you'd come to him to ask where it went, he'd give it back ofc but not without a fight

he'd act totally clueless and he'd wait till you actually start to get pissed to tell you where he actually put your thing

so back to how he'd actually be very aware of your emotions

he'd notice the smallest changes and can always tell when you're upset but he wouldn't exactly know how to help you

so instead of using words, he'd use actions

you had a really bad day and he walked you to your dorm and when he came in he's like

"shit, your dorm is a fucking disaster, how do you live like this," you scowl at bakugo cus like- wtf i'm rlly emotional here you're not helping

he scoffs and bends down to start picking up your shit

"seriously, i have no idea how you find anything in here, nothing is organized" and he'd just keeps grumbling like an old man while completely cleaning and reorganizing your room

dont you dare try and help him though, he will yell at you

-----------------------------------------

bonus: love languages!!

acts of service // giving

quality time // receiving

-----------------------------------------

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚

I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE

sero SCREAMS besfriends to lovers troupe

like- you two are already practically dating without even realizing it

the romantic tension

you guys banter and flirt with eachother so often, you both have no idea whether you're serious when you jokingly call the other sexy or not

the oblivious idiots troupe

sero makes everything a competition

not nearly to extent as bakugo would, but still goes a bit over the top

he'd use anything as an excuse to show off for you

one time, like the spiderman fanboy he is, he challenged you to see who can hang upside down the longest without passing out ( literally the stupidest idea, sero, you're going to loose braincells )

sero won, obviously and he takes full advantage of bragging rights

everyone says how denki's the flirt and whatever but NO

sero is the biggest mf flirt and denki got his game from him

so with that being said, you are not safe

HE IS A BULLY

he respects boundaries of course but that doesn't mean he's not gonna try and test his limits a bit and mess with you

he's always trying to get you flustered

god forbid you're shorter than him because he will tease the shit outta you for it

when you two train together, mf goes on overdrive ESPECIALLY if you two happen to be sparring together

he'd hover over you and lean his face in ever so slightly while your talking to him just to get a rise outta you

TILT YOUR HEAD UP WITH ONE FINGER

"could you repeat that? i'm having a hard time hearing,"

SHEEEEEEEE

but you also make fun of him for being tall, so it checks out

whenever he says some slick shit you're just like-

"I'm sorry, what? That's funny coming from someone who's above the national average height. you're disgusting, tall man; shrink perhaps" ( if anyone knows what tiktok audio i'm referencing, i'm in love with you )

hope you have your casket ready because sero's gonna slaughter your ass for that shit

ok but one time while you two were partnered up for hero training, you got on his nerves and he tied you up and left you hanging and the mf just left

maaaan were you livid

15 minutes

15 minutes you were left up there while sero was doing god knows what

you gave him the silent treatment for the rest of the day and sero was genuinely distressed cus he didn't mean to make you so mad

but lucky for him, he always knows how to get you to smile no matter how sad or are or how angry you are with him

he shoots you a piece of tape with his handwriting on it

he made up some stupid, horribly written poem asking for your forgiveness and he's just looking at you the entire time you're reading it with an exaggerated pout

how can you say mad at him?

on the topic of him sending you notes on his tape

he'd totally leave pieces of his tape in really obscure places in your dorm or even under your desk

they'd be really stupid messages too like-

"you stink"

or a really random inside joke you two have that makes literally no sense but even just the thought of it makes you laugh to tears

he'd also leave little origami figures he made with his tape in random places for you to find too

or he'd just give them to you

you have a shelf specifically dedicated for the things sero has made for you ( and he's really touched you actually keep all his shitty arts and crafts projects )

in conclusion, sero is the best and he is my favorite and i'd die for him

-----------------------------------------

bonus: love languages!!

gift giving // giving

physical touch // giving and recieving

-----------------------------------------

If you guys want, i can elaborate on their love languages in another post! <3

𝒇𝒊𝒏 . ✩

[shugojima]

𝗔𝗸𝗮𝗮𝘀𝗵𝗶 𝗞𝗲𝗶𝗷𝗶 🍋♀️

Sensual play✔︎

Very soft✔︎

Aftercare✔︎

Condom cause he smart✔︎

Praising✔︎

♡︎

You were out with your friends. Those usual party nights you spend together, searching for a boy to fill you up. Yes, that's how much of a hoe you were. You just compensated your depression with dick. Some good dick made you forget about all the problems you had so why not making this a regular?

Dancing with some halfways attractive stranger you felt yourself getting thirsty. No, I don't talk about that kind of thirsty... hoe.

Walking your way to the bar you pushed some people aside and sat down to order your drink.

"Just give me something strong, please."

This lead to nothing. Not with this guy you thought. Also he seemed to be soft asf and you needed to get destroyed so why bother?

"Wanna talk about it?"

A soft but deep voice rang in your ear when you looked to your side and saw a pretty damn attractive guy. Black hair... beautiful, tourquise eyes... glasses... Damn. You had a thing for glasses. You thought those made every man look ten times hotter.

"Oh, sorry. Akaashi." he reached for your hand and you took it.

"Y/n... What made you think I need to talk?"

Smiling a little he said

"You just ran away from a guy you wanted to sleep with for whatever reason but figured it's not worth it, so you came here and ordered a strong drink to forget whatever is on your mind. So I just guessed you'd probably need someone to talk to."

"Well shit. You got me there... what a whore, huh?"

Sipping on your drink you tried to wash away the last blowjob you gave two hours ago as he looked at you kinda worried.

"Do you do that often?"

"Huh?"

"I mean using dick to cope with something."

You looked at him raising a brow.

"What are you my therapist?"

"You're right, I shouldn't have asked that. That was rude of me."

"Well, you certainly give off therapist vibes. With that look on your face, those glasses.. also what are you doing with pen and paper in a bar? Taking notes already?"

You felt you were getting comfortable due to the alcohol. He laughed a little and said

"Valid question, I guess. I'm a manga editor. That's just my worksheet. Usually I do that at home but I felt like I needed a drink."

The way he used his words so carefully and his overall behaviour made you wonder how high his IQ is.

Certainly a smart man and to be honest, that was a rare breed around here.

The two of you kept talking for over two hours and you really had a lot of fun. It wasn't the usual shit talk, nothing too flirty more deep. You also told him that he was right and you were actually just looking for a rough fuck but gave up hope when you noticed that guy was definetely a bottom.

Also... you were a little tipsy by now...

And that's where it started.

"So you think in order to forget everything around you, it has to be extremely rough?"

You looked at him confused. Well sure it has to be?!

"Uhm... yes? I mean... I at least never really enjoyed that soft shit. It's just... ughh idk I just like it hard."

A warm smile on his face your eyes met and his gaze was so intense, it send shivers down your spine. No way you would be able to break eye contact. Wow... just... wow. You felt like he was able to read your mind, look straight through you. He definetely had something about him. Something special that made your mind go blank.

"That isn't true."

"What?"

"I said that isn't true."

Who tf does he think he is? Thinking he knows what you like or not?

Looking into your eyes, no... basically into your soul, he said

"Sensual sex is something you need the right man for. You need to connect on a high level and feel real attraction. Not just to his dick but also to his personality. If you ever come across that man... Think of my words."

You sat there, mouth slightly agape and you didn't know why but his words somehow affected you... that deep voice, the way he spoke, its was erotic. No other way to put it. So you couldn't help but eventually press your legs a little together.

Sure, he noticed your reaction. He's a smart motherfucker after all...

Slowly placing his hand on your thigh he said

"That's what I was talking about. And I only used my words." He winked at you and you were already a puddle.

Blushing hard you almost spilled your drink when he broke eye contact first.

How did he do that? How could he get such a reaction out of you just by talking to you? Not even doing dirty talk, just by stating facts.

"How... I-...how?"

"Skill." He laughed.

TIMESKIP

"Make yourself at home, love. You relax a little I'll be right back."

You nodded and got a little comfortable on his bed. Sitting there you realized you had never been so nervous before you had sex.

Something was different this time and you were sure it was a positive change.

You knew each other for only about 4 hours now and you felt like you were already close friends. It was weird and if you'd believe in such things you'd say he's your soulmate.

The way he spoke about that connection people need to have... that had to be it.

When he came back he had more comfortable clothes on and a bowl with ice cubes in his hand as he sat himself besides you, placing the bowl on the carpet.

"How do you feel?"

"Good, I guess... not that drunk anymore."

"That's great to hear." he smiled as he leaned in whispering with his dark voice

"Because I want you to be sober enough to feel everthing to the fullest. Everything of me."

Gulp

"You're so nervous again just because of my words... You probably really love dirty talk, am I right?"

Eyeing me closely he didn't need an answer tho.

"Nevermind... Your legs are pressed together just like they were two hours ago."

Blushing hard you tried to act normal and keep your composure but that was absolutely impossible when he guided you onto his lap and looked deep into your eyes, through his black framed glasses. His mouth slightly open, not even half an inch from yours.

"If I'm doing it right, you're about to feel heaven, my love."

You wanted to feel his lips on yours so bad so you leaned in but he hold you in place, his hands on both sides of your head.

"No kissing. Heavy breathing can be just as erotic."

And that it was...

You just stayed like this, breathing in and out on opposite times, basically exchanging breaths. The air around you heating up rapidly as you closed your eyes and enjoyed this intense feeling.

"Can you feel the tension?" he breathed into your mouth before kissing you so sensual yet full of lust. He slightly bit your lower lip when he slid his tongue into your warm mouth, one hand on your back, the other slowly running through your soft hair.

You felt nothing less than loved in this exact moment and you already forgot about everything that made you feel so terribly sad earlier.

Never did a kiss feel so good.

When your slick lips seperated he leaned to your ear and whispered

"I can hear your heart beating."

Wanting to get rid of his glasses you stopped him in his tracks.

"Can you... leave the.. glasses on?"

Smirking knowingly he put the glasses with his middle finger back up the bridge of his nose.

"You like that, hm?"

"Y-yes... they.. look good on you."

"Note taken."

Carefully placing you with your back on his sheets he gave you a soft kiss on your forehead before he stood up.

"What.. are you-"

"I'm sorry, love. I don't do it raw."

"Oh r-right.."

Rummaging something in his drawer he put the shiny package on his bed side table before crawling up on top of you.

Your heart was beating out of your chest and you didn't even know why. He was a stranger after all. Someone you just met and still he made the butterflies in your belly you didn't even know you had, go fucking wild.

Your hips between his legs he slowly started to unbutton his grey and blue plaid shirt when you looked away blushing.

"Hey, eyes on me." He commanded softly, continuing with the last 3 buttons.

I'm sure my eyes had hearts in it by now when I saw his ripped body. Fuck... he was so hot. Those toned abs, perfectly on display with the low light that shone on them, leaving a little shadow under every muscle.

"My god..."

"And you wanted to look away in shame."

He smiled when he threw his shirt on the soft carpet near his bed and leaned in on you.

Kissing you again he carressed your deep red cheek and whispered

"Let me show you what real sex feels like."

You got the chills when he started to trail a path of soft kisses down your neck and sucked a little on your skin every now and then. Slight gasps leaving your throat he breathed heavily against your skin.

"You're so... so sensitive to my touch... "

"Wait.." You breathed out, wanting to get rid of your shirt as well so he could kiss you further.

Quickly taking it off so he can continue making you go crazy.

Holding you in this half sitting position he asked you if he could take off your bra as well when you nodded.

Skillfully opening it with one hand while his other cupped your cheek. He didn't stop kissing you until he layed you back down and took a moment to fully capture your feautures.

"You look absolutely beautiful, Y/n."

"Thank.. you, Akash-"

"Keiji."

Leaning down on you again his soft fingertips explored your body. Carressing along your neck, your collarbones, your breasts... before he pinched your hard buds slightly. Moaning softly you closed your eyes to make the feeling even more intense.

"Do you feel comfortable, love?"

"Y-yes... nghhh.. very much so.."

A warm smile on his face he reached for the bowl with ice cubes and put one into his mouth. Playing around with it a little until it completely melted he started licking circles around your bud. His cold tongue driving you crazy when he sucked slightly.

"Nghh... K-keiji.. that feels so good.."

Feeling his smile against your skin his hand found its way down your belly... to your skirt.

Hovering above you again he kissed you once more.

"You know where else that feels amazing?"

Melting another ice cube in his mouth he lifted your hips from the sheets and slowly took of your skirt along with your soaked panties.

Going down on you his cold tongue parted your slick lips making you throw your head back and moan loudly.

"Right here."

"Fuck."

He licked slowly but greedily along your wet slit, evetually sucking on your clit before he slid a finger inside and looked up at you.

"You're soaking wet, love. I thought you can only enjoy it the hard way?"

Inserting another finger you arched your back as you grinded on his fingers. Desperate for more.

Desperate for him.

"Keiji... I- I need more..."

"Is that so?" he smiled, curving his fingers inside making you scream as he hit your sweet spot.

"M-more... please!"

Pulling out slowly he licked your juice off them

and opened his belt before he stepped out of his jeans and pulled down his boxers.

"Holy shit."

Chuckling he went "Thanks I guess?"

He reached for the shiny package on the little table and opened it with his teeth before rolling it onto his hard cock.

Can we talk about how fucking big he is? Lord help you were thinking of calling an ambulance in advance.

"You know... I don't have to be rough on you to have you drowning in pleasure. There's no need to be when you know which bottons to push and when."

He said as he pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose when he leaned in on you and was close to your lips again, his eyes drilling holes into yours you felt his tip at your entrance.

"Right now you're craving my cock so bad that you'd basically do everything just to feel it rubbing against your walls. And I like that a lot. Not that I'd dare taking adventage of your miserable situation."

"Put.. it in... please, Keiji! I can't anymore!"

You whined as you tried to lower yourself onto his length just for him to grab your hips and hold you in place.

"Why are you so impatient, my love?" he breathed against your lips, pushing just his tip inside.

"Nghhh fuck! Please!!! Please I need more, Keiji!!"

"Remember this moment."

One deep thrust inside you screamed in heavenly pleasure, your eyes shut close and your back arching.

"OHH MY...GOD!"

Smirking at your reaction he took your hands and intertwined your fingers, holding them down besides your head when he started moving slowly.

"To me at least... It looks like you're enjoying it a lot."

His thick cock stretching you out to the limit, low growls leaving his mouth as the sounds of his balls hitting your ass and the squelching sound of your soaked pussy filled the room.

You were in heaven.

He brought heaven to you.

An endless rush of endorphines fluted your body as he teached you his way of pleasure.

He knew exactly what he did, how to do it and when. Noticing every little reaction coming from you and knew what it meant.

This man was a drug.

And you were about to get fucking addicted.

♡︎

Guys... I had to do a cut. This is getting sooo long and I really love how it turned out.

It's so sensual and sweet my heart is a puddle.

I will upload the second part as soon as possible.

Soft Akaashi is gold

😩🛐

[yanderenightmare]

Hey, can I have yandere!shinsou to insult the chubby!reader bcs she really made him angry to her by being rebellious so it ended up with she is getting fuck so hard by him 🥵💦

yandere ! SHINSO HITOSHI

goodiebag WARNINGS: nsfw, dubcon/noncon, mind-control, jealousy

MISTAKES COME BEST WHEN SERVED IN THREES

She’d been bugging him all night. 

They were hauled up in his dorm-room with homework, had been so for hours. And it wouldn't have been too bad, but she wouldn't shut up.

She laid on her stomach, elbows propped up beneath her, tits mushed perfectly into his mattress, looking like a comfortable pillow fo support, squeezed like two plump balloons in her top with the way she bounced on them. She always bounced as she spoke, so bubbly, voluptuous lips sucking on her pen in those breaks where she didn't have anything to say, looking like a cute little bunny with the chubs of her cheeks, her legs kicking in the air, ass wiggling like a puppy wagging its tail, as she babbled on and on and on about her stupid crush.

Disgusting. He’d lost count of how many times he’d rolled his eyes, sustained clicking his tongue in an exasperated fashion, now feeling the growing need to go puke his guts up.

“He’s got such pretty hair too, like... it’s fluffy, like a cat, like he has secrets hidden inside there or something...” He wanted to claw his eyes out, but he couldn't stop looking at her, those lips, that cheeky smile, her childish giggle. His ears bleeding, not wanting to hear another silly foolish detail about whomever the fuck had her so neatly tied around there finger. “I just want to run my hands through it, you know?” She fiddled with a lock of her own hair while she daydreamed, finger raking through the pretty shiny treads. “Tangle my fingers inside it and ride his face.” That’s when he snapped.

It took only a split second to process, perhaps because he’d imagined it so many times already. Her plush thighs hugging his face, hands grabbing the fat of her ass, setting the rhythm, not letting her go until he feels her dripping down his chin. “Who?” He sounded like an owl, looked like one too. Eyes intense as they stared at her place on his mattress. 

Such audacity she had, talking up wet-dreams of someone else in his fucking bed.

Her brows knitted, looking at him, legs stopping to rub together in the air. “Hm?” She only hummed, but it was enough.

“What’s his name?” He repeated, and this time she had no choice but to answer.

Her features blanched, eyes pooling with void, enslaved, gorgeous, pupils blown large like a black lake, like ink ready to write all her secrets, to spill her guts for him. 

“Shinso Hitoshi.”

The name dropped from her lips without hesitance, and despite the monotonous sound of it, despite lackluster at the absence of her substantial voice, her full-bodied brazen wild tone, it still managed to make his heart stop, stammer in his chest, before beating along like it usually does, like a skipping rock, picking up its pace, soon to be hammering like some war-drum, fueling war-paint through his system, spiked and frayed, making the thin hairs at the nape of his neck rise, his purple mane frizz with static. 

Thoroughly put out, enough to lose his hold on her.

“Did you...” She shook from the shock, from the shackles. “Did you just-” Her palms pushed into her temple as her eyes scrutinized, pulling her knees to curl into a sitting position on the bed. “Use your quirk on me?” 

Her frame had bled into a blurry view at the light of his bliss, his smile widened into a sneer as sharp as a knife, eyes refocusing at the sound of her voice breaking the otherwise pin-drop silence and galloping of his heart.

He scoffed at her pout, at the brimming, swirling vivid look of betrayal climbing in her eyes, almost drooling at the bashful blush that adorned her cheeks, having never seen her shy or humiliated before and finding an unparalleled sense of victory at the sight of it. 

“What?” He shrugged, sly smile nudging further up on his face, smug and victorious, uncaring of whatever feeling he must have stirred with knowing how she actually felt plain and simple and outspoken, pulled right from her chest, still echoing on the walls, ringing in his mind, dripping from his teeth. He could almost laugh. “Not the guy you thought I was?”

“This isn't funny, Toshi.” Believe him, he didn't think so either. “I trusted you.”

“Your first mistake.” His lilac eyes shone with such sinister glee, such carnal sadistic pleasure, she felt it like a claw on her throat. “Liking me is your second.”

“You’re such a jerk.” Her voice strained, caught between being vicious to teary-wet. He could only imagine, like he’d done so many sleepless nights already, the catlike whimpers and whines she’d spill once he did like she suggested earlier.

She pushed herself off his bed with a bounce and huff and a sweet little sniffle, walking past where he still sat seated on the chair by his desk, hand drumming lean knuckled fingers on the table. “Leaving so soon, Kitten?” He didn't bother getting up. He didn't need to.

“Fuck- you.” She mumbled, her voice already a croak of suppressed cries, her heart aching in her chest as she walked to the door.

The smile cracked even farther, more salacious, more enjoyed, gorged and savored. “Fuck me? Heh, that’ll be your third...” He scoffed, laugh lacing his mocking words. “Stop.” Was all he needed to say to turn all her nerves against her and bend them to do his bidding. “Come here.” 

His hand still drummed on the table, not having bothered turning around as he heard her approach him again. Perfectly timed steps, one after the other, mechanical almost, until she stood, plain and simple, without resistance, between his legs, all up for grabs. His fingers stopped drumming.

Then there was silence again. But she would say the smirk on his face was loud, and so was the glint in those lavender orbs, warm in her head, in her cheeks, hot and heavy with how he eyed her, up and down. Hotter as those arms, lined with the muscles of a man, straining veins and fresh bruises from his training, reaching out scarred hands to touch her ample hips, pulling her closer, tighter between his thighs. Fingers, strangely confident and lax, unbothered and unhurried, soon fiddling with the clasp that kept her short school skirt together at the waist, pinching what pliable flesh he found as he explored. Other hand ascending with the same grace, working slowly as he twisted the buttons to her shirt open, popping one after the other, face buried and pushed into the welcoming warm embrace of her breasts with a heavy sigh, lips dragging up and down the valley of them, nose rubbing and cuddling into her skin, teeth soon gracing alongside his tongue licking at her. Her shirt and skirt falling to the floor, pooling around her ankles, meanwhile his hand moved to the back to pinch loose the clasp of her bra, where the other hand had made itself busy feeling up the thickness of her ass like putty between his greedy fingers.

“On the bed.” He growled, face still mushed into her skin, all clothes except her precious cotton panties left in a pile by the desk.

And off she went, Shinso getting up and out of his chair to trail after her, towering over her short frame, looking down at the back of her head and how it seemed to bob up and down as she walked, hips swaying like a feline from side to side as she stalked, until she turned on her heel and plopped down with a bounce. Always so bouncy. So plump and full of life. Juicy like a peach.

He got down on his knees quickly, hands reached out to grab her knees, prying them apart carefully, opening up for a view of soft plush doughy flesh and the valley that made her panties look like a heart just beneath her tummy, all for him to bite into. He groaned, hands curled as they raked down from grabbing at her ass, until they hooked under her knees, pushing her up and down on her back, tits bouncing from the fall, his other hand giving them the attention they deserve, kneading one breasts in his palm, fingers going from tweaking the nib to pulling at it like picking up a water-balloon by the tail, managing to wake her.

“Get off!” She gasped, whined at the harsh touch, hands coming to push at his hard abs. But he wasn't budging, hands easily and softly finding her wrists to keep them from flailing, his dark chuckle stirring that something deep within her gut.

“Get off?” He repeated, questioningly, a slight snicker playing in his tone. “What?” It was clear he was amused, that he had no regrets and no intentions of backing down. “You don't like it when I touch you?” He pushed her down, drowned her in the sheets, hiked his knee up on the bed to earn leverage and height, like a tower toppling over, pushing her wrists into the mattress, head dipping to kiss at her collarbone, nose sliding up her neck as she shook her head in slight protest were any verbal answers were sure to be taken advantage of. “Well-” He scoffed. “That’s a lie.” His words whispered at her ear, as he smoothly hooked his foot under her leg to push them open, knee fitting snugly between the tight space of her thighs, hiking her up over the tops of his own, fitting between her. “We both know you’ll love it when I touch you, Kitten.” 

He bit her earlobe with another snicker, kissed her cheek chastely, slipping his tongue into her mouth as he dunked in for one hungry sloppy kiss, loving her adorable girlish squeals beneath him, how her hands had stopped struggling, a tinge of rose blushing her cheeks once he pulled up for air. 

“There’s no need to be shy.” Pupils blown, his eyes had never seemed darker. “You belong to me.” He kissed down her neck, bit at her skin. “Every single inch of you.” His hands relieving their post, leaving two smaller hands to stay where they’d been placed. “These tits.” Lips kissing the bud of her breast, teeth rolling it on his tongue. Rough fingers grabbing like claws into the cake of her thighs again, spreading them further apart. “These thighs.” He growled, hands cupping her ass to rut his bulge into her thinly clothed sex, lips crashing onto her once again, even as she yelped against him. “This ass.” He groaned, rocking into her. “All of you. Every single curve.” He purred. “There won’t be an ounce of your being left untouched, unlicked, un-fucked once I’m done.”