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ayyy-pee · 6 months ago
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𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐃
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Discord 18+ - Twitter
Pairing: Model!Shoko Ieri x Female Reader, Model!Utahime Iori x Female Reader, Shokohime x Female Reader
Summary: You're a top Public Relations manager covering Tokyo Fashion Week. All the drugs, sex and outrageous going ons never see the light of day. Why? Because it's your job to cover up scandal.
But that doesn't mean you can't have your own risky fun.
Story Warning: Smut, LESBIANS, Reader works in Public Relations, Mentions of Drugs, Mentions of hookups, Bath sex, Bathtub Threesome, Cunnilingus, Cum Eating, Profanity bc c'mon...it's me, Vaginal Bumping and Grinding, Referenced STRAP usage, Fingering, Secret Flings, Sneaky Sex, Dub-con? (Reader and ShokoHime have a few drinks...but do consent to sex), Sneaking Around, Secret Recordings
Art by: Cake__Sensei (Twitter)
A/N: I FINALLY finished something for my Jujutsu Journal Collab Event! I hope yall enjoy!!! Thank you to everyone participating and for everyone who has helped me to reach 3k followers!!!
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You’ve always loved the fast paced feel of Tokyo Fashion Week. The bright lights flashing and catching every crease and detail of the fabrics on display. The music thumping and crowd cheering as the models strut down the runway. The chaos backstage as everyone rushes to slip in and out of the next garment in time for their cue. Yes, you loved being a part of that feeling, you loved capturing that feeling. Because it was your job to catch every crease and detail, the sexy walks of the models, the mayhem that happens behind the scenes while the audience patiently waits.
It’s exhilarating, really. Being invited to such elite and exclusive events has changed your life in ways you could have never imagined. When you first started your career in fashion, you would have never dreamed of making it this far. This was worlds away from filming street fashion on your shitty little cell phone and interviewing small time designers. But you’ve worked so hard, worked even smarter and have networked your way to the top of your department.
And now, you're the head of the PR team for one of the top fashion magazines in Japan, currently assigned to cover the after party of Tokyo Fashion Week to collect enough content for a post show documentary.
The after party is as wild as you’d imagined it would be. The ritziness and glam of the actual fashion show can hardly be found here. It’s all thumping loud music, raunchy dancing and paraphernalia scattered across various surfaces. 
Looking for sweaty bodies bumping and grinding in off the runway Dior? You’ll find it here. 
Want to catch someone snorting a line in vintage Chanel? Just turn your head in any direction, really. 
Can you see a pair of this season’s YSL heels peeking out from around the corner where someone is on their knees giving the sloppiest blowjob? Absolutely.
And it’s your job to make sure that what’s happening here never sees the light of day.
You love scandal, because it gives you a job, pays your bills and keeps your lights on and food in your fridge. As long as some celebrity is getting into shit they’re not supposed to, you’ll always have a job. But outside of work, you loathe scandal, avoid it at all costs because the biggest cost would be your career. Sure, you’ve joined in on the fun, partook in scandalous behavior from time to time, but you’re always careful. There are never any traces, never any receipts, never any damning evidence that could lead back to you.
No one will ever know that you spent a weekend in Bali with famous pop musician Satoru Gojo while his wife waited patiently for him to return from “filming” a new music video.
They will also never know about your brief tryst with his best friend, Suguru Geto in Nara, Seoul and Bora Bora. Not even Satoru.
And your romantic holiday trip with award winning actress Yuki Tsukumo? As far as everyone else knows, it never happened.
See, you were that damn good at your job. That’s why you were the head of your PR team, after all. It’s why you knew exactly where to direct your videographer to point their camera. You spot the rolled dollar bills and white lines before they can react, finger pushing the camera sideways to focus on something else.
Lo and behold, it points to a group of models standing casually off to the side of the party as they mingle with guests. You recognize one face among the crowd, those deep purple bags beneath his eyes highlighted by the flashing neon lights.
It’s Choso, a model, with his hair up in space buns, a part of his styling. He’s dressed to the nines in the most stylish streetwear of the season, his signature Prada combat boots on. 
You’ve known Choso for quite some time, often running into each other at these afterparties. Years ago, in the early hours of the morning, you’d clumsily attempted a drunk hookup. Every kiss, every touch, every attempt to work each other up to something more amounted to nothing. It ended with you both tangled in each other’s arms, falling apart with laughter. And so, you’d decided you were better off as friends, and had become quite close since. It worked better for you both that way. You just weren’t into each other like that.
But Choso has been a good friend to you. You often find yourself hanging out together after the chaos of the fashion show has died down and a new session of mayhem has begun for the afterparty. You haven’t seen him in months, but that doesn’t seem to make a difference because Choso spots you easily behind the camera and waves you over to his group of friends.
“Haven’t seen you since Paris,” he calls out to you as you approach. He slings an arm around your shoulders, hugging you tightly to his chest and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
“I know! I’ve missed you!” You yell back. “How have you been?”
“Not too bad, not too bad at all. Dating someone now!”
You lean back in his hold, brows rising to your hairline. “You? In a relationship?” 
You’re shocked. You’ve seen Choso go through different women, but never heard him refer to whoever he was seeing as dating. He nods, just as one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever laid eyes on approaches you two. Her lips quirk into a pretty smile and you can tell right away that she’s not a model. The smile is far too genuine, but that’s not to say she couldn’t be one if she wanted. She’s stunning, with smooth caramel brown skin and braids that fall down her back, and big brown eyes that you can already see Choso getting lost in as he pulls away from you to wrap his arms around her waist. He peers down at her, the awe apparent in his gaze. Like he just can’t believe he’s got her.
“Hey, babe,” he mutters just before his lips meet hers in a hungry kiss.
Oh, he’s in love, love.
Choso introduces you to his babe, Kamila and she’s as sweet as she looks. But you don’t get to talk to her much, because Choso is not willing to spend any time he’s not obligated to away from his love. You don’t blame him. She’s breathtaking. You can’t help but smile, watching as Choso and his girlfriend completely forget they’re at this party together, surrounded by people. 
Which is fine, because it’s about time to wrap it up yourself so that you and your crew can also take time to enjoy the rest of the festivities.
Turning to your associate, you signal for them to hand you their camera. They quickly switch it off before placing it in your hands. “Go party,” you tell them, dismissing them for the night. “Nothing crazy,” you add. “And if it gets crazy, make sure there’s nothing that can be traced back to the company. And if something happens that can be traced back to the company, call me.”
They know the rules. They’re the same ones you follow and the same ones the company practically beat into your skull when you were first brought on. So far, they’ve worked for you. No one has been able to outsmart any of you. Your team is solid.
“Got it boss,” your cameraman exclaims. Then they’re off to get into whatever trouble the night has in store for them.
And while you’re pondering what trouble you can get into, it seems to find you first.
“Boss, huh?” A sweet voice questions behind you. You spin around to see Choso and his girlfriend are now nowhere in sight. Instead, you’re face to face with two of the most alluring women you’ve ever laid eyes on. They’re dressed in skin tight dresses that leave little to the imagination, their long legs exposed and damn they look good. You recognize them from the show and from the model roster.
The beautiful slender one with the cute little beauty mark beneath one of her tired eyes – Shoko Ieiri. She’s got a bit of an intimidating aura and a smile that has your heart pounding rapidly behind your ribcage. She’s a bit scary. And admittedly, you find it sexy. 
You’ve never spoken to Shoko. The models are usually too busy working and racing around backstage to have much time to mingle. By the time the show’s over, they’re either back in their rooms or out at whatever party they can get into. But have also never heard anything negative about Shoko from any contacts in the industry, which speaks volumes to you. You hear everything. It’s easy for anyone to get their hands on anything if they try hard enough.
When there’s nothing to find, it means they’re good at keeping their dirt swept under the rug. Those are the types of people you get along best with.
Then, there’s the slightly shorter one, with a rough scar that runs from one side of her face to the other in contrast to her soft features – Utahime Iori. She’s as striking as Shoko – curvy and looks soft in all the right places. 
Again, nothing crazy about Utahime. You’ve heard she’s quite the hothead, which would be quite interesting if it were true. She has a less intimidating air about her. Her big brown eyes make her seem sweeter than the woman standing beside her. It makes her all the more intriguing to you.
Regardless, they both have their pretty gazes on you and for a split second, you feel the roles reverse. In this world, you’re at the top of the food chain. Everyone else is the prey. Because you could spin any story, take any insult slung your way and crush your target. Because no one had anything on you. But for some reason, as these two women stare you down, Utahime with her bottom lip pulled between her teeth and Shoko puckering her lips around the butt of a cigarette, you feel like they could destroy you.
And if there’s one thing you love, it’s a woman who feels dangerous.
So when Shoko asks if you’d like to join her and Utahime for some drinks, you really can’t say no. And you don’t want to.
- - - - - - - - -
“What’d you think of the show?” Utahime asks eagerly. You’re all seated on one of the expensive velvet sofas on the second floor of this club. Shoko has made herself comfortable, leaning back against the arm of the chair. And you’ve made yourself even more comfortable, seated between her long legs and leaning against Shoko’s chest while Utahime sits next to you, idly playing with your fingers.
You take a slow sip of your drink. It’ll probably be your last for the night. From the moment you laid eyes on these two, you knew what direction you wanted the night to go. You want to be sober enough to enjoy it.
Utahime peers up expectantly at you with those big brown eyes of hers, long lashes curling cutely and it makes your cheeks heat. The alcohol is not helping with how easily your body is responding.
“It was really good,” you finally answer. Utahime beams, a little smile beginning to grow on her lips.
“Really?” She asks, and you nod. “We did good?”
Behind you, you feel the vibration of Shoko’s chuckle rumble against your back. And as you stare down into Utahime’s eyes, it’s clear why.
Okay. This one likes praise, you note mentally. You nod again. “So good.” And you’re unable to stop the smile forming on your lips when Utahime’s grin widens. She looks over to Shoko, who lazily takes a drag of another cigarette, blowing her smoke out of the side of her mouth to avoid suffocating you. Her long fingers trail absentmindedly up and down your arm as she listens to you and Utahime continue on about the show.
You’ve noticed that Shoko isn’t very talkative. She’s more observant than anything and while that would usually bother you, there’s something about Shoko that puts you at ease. Like you can put your life in her hands and can be confident you would be alright. Maybe it’s because everything around you is always so busy, always so loud. Her silence feels grounding amongst the chaos. 
But you also find her silence a little funny since she and Utahime seem to be so close. Utahime seems more the party type than Shoko does. She’s outgoing and friendly, warm and inviting. It’s such a stark contrast to Shoko, and yet they’re always with each other. Even earlier in the night, if Shoko went to the bar, Utahime was right behind her, telling you they’d be right back before chasing after her. If Utahime wanted to dance, Shoko was next to her. You suppose opposites do attract.
You suspect they’re more than just colleagues or friends and you file that tidbit away in your mind. If the night is headed where you want it to go, where you suspect it’s going to go, you need to collect any pertinent information you can beforehand. 
Just in case.
“Ugh,” Shoko groans, leaning forward suddenly to smash her half finished cigarette into the ashtray on the side table next to her. “All this noise is making my head hurt.”
Utahime nods in agreement. “It has been a long day…” She sits straighter, grasping your hand tightly she asks, “Should we get going?”
Damn, you think. You’re a little disappointed to think the night is ending here. “Are you two heading home?” You’re sure the frown on your face is clear, even in the darkness of the venue. You don’t want them to go yet.
Shoko snorts, shaking her head. She leans back against the chair, looping an arm around your waist and pulling you back onto her. “No,” she breathes, and she’s so close to your ear, you can feel her breath ghost along your skin, can smell the faint mixture of nicotine and spearmint. “We don’t live anywhere near here,” she explains, fingers gliding along your skin again. “Hime and I got a reservation at one of those onsen hotels up the street.”
“It’s really nice from the pictures I saw online,” Utahime adds, a cheerful lilt to her tone when she speaks. “Can’t wait to get there.”
You can feel the shift in the atmosphere when those words leave her lips. The air is thick, heavy. You’re familiar with this feeling. You know it all too well, and your heart races in your chest. Behind you, you feel Shoko’s body tense up briefly before she relaxes.
Then Utahime is crawling along your form, moving closer to you, closer and closer, and you think she’s going to try and kiss you. And damn it, you’d let her…if it was you she was aiming for. Instead, you watch, eyes blown wide with curiosity and honestly, desire as Utahime presses her plush lips to Shoko’s. Normally, you’d be elated to know your hunch was correct, that they were in fact more than friends, but you can’t seem to care when you see their lips connect. Their kiss is sweet at first, just a few light pecks, quiet sighs between them. Until Utahime grins into the kiss, pulling back slightly to giggle at the way Shoko’s brows knit together. Shoko frowns, bringing a hand up to grip Utahime’s long chocolate tresses.
“Don’t tease me, Hime,” she breathes through gritted teeth. Then she’s pulling Utahime’s face to hers, smashing their lips together for a messy, passionate kiss. And all you can do is watch as their tongues slip into each other’s mouths, breaths heavy as they quietly moan into each kiss. It’s so sexy, the way Utahime whimpers. How Shoko nips at Utahime’s already swollen lips. How Shoko pulls you tighter against her, pressing your ass against her groin.
You’re not sure if it’s the drinks you’ve had with these girls, the cigarettes or the scent of their perfumes that has your head swimming. Hell, maybe it’s a mixture of it all, but you’re so turned on watching these beautiful women kissing in front of you. All of their lust being poured into each slot of their lips, every groan and whimper between them, it’s all so arousing. You squeeze your thighs together, prompting a soft chuckle from the woman behind you. Shoko breaks away from the kiss, releasing her hold on Utahime’s hair who pouts cutely, sitting back on her knees.
“Don’t look so sad, Hime,” Shoko coos. She turns her attention back to you. “Just seemed like someone wanted to join us.”
And you do. You want to join them real fucking bad.
But when Shoko leans forward, just trying to press a kiss to your neck, your brain suddenly crawls out of the fog. You’re out in the open, in a compromising position with two models, at that. So you move, a hand flying up to push Shoko back a little.
Her brows furrow, head tilting in confusion and she releases her hold on you. “Oh– Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume…I just thought–”
“No you’re right,” you reassure them. Your eyes dart around the venue, and while everyone is likely drugged up or too drunk out of their minds to notice three girls feeling each other up in the club, you can never be too careful. “Just…not here. Let’s go back to your hotel.”
Shoko looks at Utahime, who stares at you two with eager eyes and a smile that would melt anyone’s heart. “Okay! Let’s go!”
- - - - - - - - -
Shoko checks you all into the hotel, and the room is as beautiful as you’d imagine it would be. There’s a main bedroom with a fluffy king bed ready to be slept in…or not. Off to the side of the room is a small dining area, and through large glass doors is the onsen bath, the water already run by the hotel staff for you. It screams luxury. You can see the steam curling from the water and god, if you couldn’t use a bath to wash away the day.
You set your bag and camera down on the dining table. Stretching your arms over your head, you take in the room, moving across the space. “This hotel is fucking incredible,” you gasp. “I can’t believe your agency spoils you guys like this.”
Shoko laughs, kicking her heels off and setting them in the little armoire by the entrance. “Right? I was surprised myself. Make yourself at home,” she tells you from the other side of the room.
She didn’t have to tell you twice. You couldn’t wait to crawl into that bed and – 
“What’s this for?”
You peek over your shoulder, eyes landing on Utahime fumbling around with the camera and panic sets in. You cannot lose that footage. “Please don’t touch that!” It comes out more forcefully than you intended and Utahime sets the camera down quickly, holding her hands up defensively. 
“Sorry!”
You rush toward her, only to be stopped in your tracks by Shoko, who places her hands on your shoulders. “Hey, relax. She was just looking.” She fixes you with a small smile, running her hands soothingly along your arms. And it does calm you, the earlier fear you felt melting away. “Be glad you caught her before she dropped it.” Shoko shakes her head, releasing your shoulders before she turns, moving towards the other woman. Utahime stands still, watching and waiting as Shoko slips behind her easily. Shoko’s fingers pinch the zipper of Utahime’s dress and drag it along the fabric until her dress slowly loosens around her chest and your gaze falls to the movement. “She can be careless sometimes,” Shoko speaks softly. Her fingers glide along Utahime’s collarbone, dragging down to the swell of her breasts. “Don’t mind her.” 
Shoko spins around, and Utahime follows, gently pushing Shoko’s hair aside. She presses a soft kiss to the back of Shoko’s neck and you watch as she trails kisses along the side of Shoko’s neck, pulling quiet sighs from the taller woman as she pulls the zipper until the fabric falls to the floor, revealing her bare slim form. Shoko turns back around and captures Utahime’s lips with hers, only breaking away to whisper, “Be more careful, okay?” before she’s back on her.
And all you can do is watch, the nerves you felt earlier about the camera now melted away. Beneath the soft lighting of the hotel room, they look like ethereal beings. Too innocent to be partaking in such salacious behavior. Arousal pools in your core as the vision of the two model’s tongues tangling sends you spiraling. Have you ever been so turned on, so eager to touch someone, to feel their body on yours? Even your nights spent with the most famous celebrities never had you so tempted to slip your hands into your panties.
It’s the way Shoko holds onto Utahime’s form against her own. How she reaches a hand up to pull down the loosened fabric against Utahime’s chest. How Utahime becomes exposed, her supple breasts falling gently. Utahime’s soft whimpers when the chill air ghosts along her pretty pink nipples, the buds puckering when Shoko rolls them gently between her fingers.
Shoko sighs, pulling away reluctantly. “You’re so pretty,” she whispers, hands kneading Utahime’s breasts. “So beautiful. My perfect girl.”
You can see the way Utahime’s eyes light up from across the room, a shy smile lifting the corners of her lips. “No, you,” she teases and Shoko chuckles.
Her heated gaze finds yours from across the room, how you’re watching them intently with desire clear in your eyes. Utahime follows her line of sight, and it’s clear to her what Shoko wants. She raises her hand, inviting you over to join. And you don’t hesitate. Like magnets drawn to each other, your legs carry you to them with ease.
Both women welcome you, the anticipation clear. They want this just as badly as you do, and for a moment, you wonder if their panties are just as soaked as yours. They’ve been kissing each other, touching each other, getting to taste and enjoy each other while you’ve gotten the pleasure of watching from the sidelines. Now you’re about to partake in these pleasures with them. You’re more excited than you care to admit.
Utahime takes your hand, guiding you closer and closer until you’re standing right in front of her. “Are you okay with this?” She asks, eyes locked on your parted lips and you nod your consent.
“Yes, I want this.”
Utahime’s bright eyes travel to Shoko, who watches you both with hardly concealed interest. 
“This stays here, though. Right?” 
You want to be sure before moving forward. Not that you were concerned, but better to have heard it with your own ears.
”Of course,” Shoko confirms. She bites down on her lip before looping an arm around your waist. Now she has both you and Utahime in her hold. “Now kiss her.”
The command has your core aching. You’ve wanted nothing more than to know what it felt like, tasted like, to kiss them. Didn’t matter who first or if it was both at the same time. You just wanted to feel their lips on yours.
And you do, when Shoko dips her head down to bury her face in your neck just as Utahime presses her mouth on yours. The moment their mouths connect with your skin, your body ignites with heat. Utahime is an amazing kisser. She has pretty, plush and soft lips that easily mold against yours. And she makes cute little noises when your tongues touch.
Shoko on the other hand, is a bit rougher, hungrier with her kisses. When she cups your cheek and breaks your kiss with Utahime by turning your head, she’s quick to nip at your lips. Her tongue slips into your mouth the second you let out a moan. While you and Shoko are heavily making out, Utahime takes this time to grab your hands, laying them against her large breasts.
“Touch me,” she sighs, squeezing your hands beneath hers and moaning at the applied pressure. 
You oblige, hands running lightly over the hardened buds and you revel in the way Shoko moans a quiet “I love the way you play with her tits…” into your mouth. “I wanna see you play with her pussy later.” You whimper into the kiss, her confession making your cheeks heat. You’ll admit, this is your first threesome. It’s hard to focus, your mind is so foggy with the arousal building in your core. It’s all too much – too much movement, too much touching, too much sound and way too much going on with your own body.
Your lips tingle, almost numb from how hard and greedily Shoko kisses you. Your skin vibrates with the way Utahime is practically helping you to play with her breasts. And your panties are probably dripping with arousal right now. You are desperate to cum.
“We should get into the bath,” Utahime groans when you cup her breasts. She leans forward, nudging Shoko away from your lips. Shoko gives her hardly any space at all, taking one side of your mouth while Utahime takes the other. Then it’s all three of your tongues tangling together in this sloppy, wet kiss. 
Though you’re all reluctant to break away, Shoko moves first, stepping back enough to grab the hem of your shirt and peel it off of you, forcing Utahime back as well. You’re all breathing heavily, flushed and aroused beyond measure, but you still nod. “Yeah, let's get in bath…” 
++++++++++
“Have you been with a woman before?” Shoko asks, lacing her fingers between yours as she guides you into her lap. You straddle her, though you don’t sit fully on her lap yet.
You’ve all slipped into the warmth of the deep hotel bathtub. Shoko sits half submerged on the bathtub’s built-in bench with her back against the tub’s wall. If your body was burning up before, it’s on fire now, your pulse racing after spending the last few minutes lathering each other’s bodies and kissing until your lips hurt.
“I have.”
Shoko’s brows rise, almost as if she’s surprised by the confirmation. “Two women?”
You shake your head. Nevertheless, Shoko grins as she asks, “Well? The one you’ve been with…How was it?” She pulls you closer, until your lips are hovering barely over hers, breaths mingling. “Did you enjoy yourself?”
The question hangs heavy between you two. It’s not as though answering this question would implicate you in any way, or give them any clues as to who the last woman you slept with was. So you answer honestly, just barely above a whisper. “Yeah, it was pretty good.”
Utahime giggles, gliding through the water to close the distance between you all. “She’s so cute, Shoko.” 
Shoko cups your face, eyes cast down to your lips. “She is, isn’t she?” She runs her thumb along your lip teasingly before she declares, “I can give you something better than pretty good.” 
“Yeah?” You challenge her.
“Yeah, she can,” Utahime confirms. “We can.” She closes the gap between you all, placing her hands on your waist from behind. You feel her wet breasts press against your back and your eyes flutter closed. Utahime is curvy in all the right places. You are no better than a man, more than turned on by the feeling of her pressed against you. Your absolute favorite part about her is her pretty, large breasts. You can’t wait to have her nipples in your mouth.
Utahime places light kisses along your skin, along your neck, moving so that she’s on her knees beside you and Shoko. She adjusts her height smoothly so that she sits a little taller, enough so that she can cup the back of your head and pull you to her chest. Your lips latch onto her nipple quickly, eagerly and she gasps, back arching and pushing her breast further into the cavern of your mouth. You hum against her, tongue rolling the pert bud. She tastes of the strawberry body wash you just rinsed off of her. You’re so distracted, moving back and forth between Utahime’s breasts that you don’t notice Shoko slipping a hand between the other woman’s thighs beneath the water. Not until Utahime cries out, hands coming up to find purchase on your shoulders. 
And Shoko, the bitch that she is, places her other hand on your thigh and guides you to sit down, mouth falling open with a soft moan when your hips connect under the bath water. Shoko rolls hips, brushing her core with yours and grinning as she watches your mouth fall agape against Utahime’s breast. She does it again, smiling wide when a small whimper falls from your lips. Then she keeps doing it, keeps grinding herself against you until your thighs are trembling, and you’re nothing but a puddle clinging to Utahime’s waist.
And Utahime, she’s not any better off. Shoko’s fingers are slowly working her towards her release. She’s already been pent up, teased and turned on since you’d all gotten together at the nightclub. Now, as Shoko scissors her fingers inside her sex, presses her palm to her clit, Utahime only inches closer to the edge. 
The smaller woman pushes you from her chest, her hands cupping your face so she can capture your lips with hers. And you’re so overstimulated, your mind reeling while the water sloshes with every thrust of Shoko’s hips. Shoko gently cups one of your breasts, rolling your nipple between her thumb and forefinger, moaning as she feels your clits brush against each other repeatedly. She sighs sweetly watching as you ride her, all while Utahime rides her hand while her lips slot against yours.
“You’re so soft,” Utahime breathes, tongue pushing past your lips to press against your own wet muscle. One hand finds the back of Utahime’s head, fingers tangling in her soft tresses and you hear Shoko moan beneath you, her hips slamming into yours. Your tongue tangles messily with Utahime’s, all saliva and groans as Shoko moves you against her. Water splashes over the sides of the tub. You can’t be bothered to care about the mess you’re all making. Not when this feels so good, not when Utahime kisses you like this, not while Shoko makes her sob into your mouth, not when you can feel the delicious tension beginning to build in your core. 
“Fuck, ah – you’re both so sexy…” Shoko groans. “Love watching you kiss each other. So fucking sexy…Play with my tits while I fuck her, Hime.”
Without breaking the kiss, Utahime grasps one of Shoko’s breasts, tweaking her nipple and grinning against your mouth when Shoko gasps loudly. Her thrusts come faster, head falling back as she moans.
“Ahh…Shoko…you make such pretty sounds, baby.” Utahime coos and you whimper, eyes rolling back when your cunt slides against Shoko’s deliciously. “You do, too,” Utahime tells you, kissing you one last time before breaking away to lean down and kiss Shoko now.
All the while, Shoko never stops her movements. It’s like she’s an expert with her hands because she never loses hold of your hip, guiding you against her while she fucks her fingers into Utahime with her other hand. The room is full of the lewd sounds of you three whimpering, moaning, and whining at the shared intimacy. If there’s anyone in the rooms next to you, they may complain, but you’re not worried about that. You’re more concerned with the way Utahime’s voice rises several octaves, her cheeks pink and eyes squeezed shut.
“Gonna cum?” Shoko groans. “C’mere. C’mere, baby,” Shoko stops moving, gently pulling her fingers from Utahime’s pussy. She’s so gentle with the other woman as she adjusts herself so that she’s able to lean her head back enough for Utahime to stand between you and her, legs spread as she settles her knees on the edge of the tub, positioning her core over Shoko’s face. You’ve got a nice view of Utahime’s pretty round ass, and an even better view of Shoko pressing a passionate kiss to Utahime’s cunt, tongue running through her folds, lips wrapping around Utahime’s swollen bud.
Utahime gasps, moaning breathlessly when Shoko sucks her clit hard, then teases it with the tip of her tongue. Your hands play idly with Shoko’s nipples, eyes locked on the way Shoko devours Utahime, like she’s never tasted something sweeter in her life. It’s such an arousing vision. Utahime’s thighs begin to tremble and you’re grateful for the platform of the bath, where Utahime falls forward onto her hands. She’s on all fours, riding Shoko’s face. 
“Shokoooo, ooh–,” she hisses through gritted teeth. “Gonna fucking cum, babe,” she warns, and Shoko’s lips wrap around her clit again, humming loudly as she gives Utahime’s ass a harsh smack. This has Utahime’s body spasming, a high pitched cry leaving her as she reaches her peak. And as you watch Shoko drive Utahime over the edge with just her tongue, you’re unsure if it’s the water from the bath or Utahime’s release that’s running down Shoko’s face, absolutely soaking the taller woman’s chin.
“Fuck,” you moan quietly, eyes locked on the sexy sight before you. Your clit throbs beneath the surface. Maybe Shoko feels it, because she picks her movements back up after returning both hands to your hips. Your cunt slips and slides against Shoko’s again and this time, after watching Utahime fall apart on Shoko’s tongue, you’re even more aroused and eager to reach your own release. It’s not too far off, only getting closer as you watch Utahime shudder while Shoko continues making out with her pussy.
When it’s clear Utahime is spent, she climbs off of Shoko and slips back into the water, gliding through the liquid to position herself behind you where she begins kissing along your neck again. Her hands finds your breasts and she kneads them gently from behind, the motion such a contrast to the way Shoko is roughly fucking you again.
And once more, you’re all whimpering, hands roaming each other’s bodies. Grabbing soft flesh and squeezing anywhere you can that pulls sweet noises. You’re riding Shoko hard, desperately trying to cum. Each stroke of your clit against hers has you reeling, the sweet sensation pushing you closer and closer to your climax.
“I’m jealous,” Utahime pouts cutely. “Shoko gets to fuck you so good. I wanna fuck you, too.” 
You can’t do anything but whimper pathetically at the aspect of your legs crossed with Utahime’s. Shoko’s moans follow. “I wanna see you fuck her, baby.” She thrusts her hips up, a loud moan rushing past your lips. “You wanna fuck Hime, too? She eats pussy so good.”
“God, yes!” You cry, eyes closed as you focus on your impending climax.
“We have plenty of time tonight,” Utahime assures you. “Maybe we can even do this another time.”
“Oh, I’d love that. Get to see this pretty pussy again,” Shoko grunts, eyes locked on the way your tits bounce with every roll of your hips. “God, even in the water, your pussy is so fucking wet.”
Utahime groans, pouting further. “Stopppp, Shoko. I already said I’m–”
“Gonna cum,” Shoko whines. “Oh my god, I’m gonna cum!”
Shoko leans forward suddenly, grasping you by the back of your neck and pulling you close so she can crash her lips into yours. The mixture of Shoko's taste and the tang of Utahime’s cum on Shoko’s tongue has your eyes rolling back, and you’re toppling over. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, the tension and build up throughout the night finally snapping the band that had been coiling in your core for the last several hours.
Your arms wrap around Shoko’s shoulders as you keen into each other's mouths, riding out your highs.
“Oh wow…” Utahime rubs small circles on your back. “That was…really hot.”
You’re catching your breath, Shoko still holding onto your hips tightly. Her hair is stuck to her forehead, a sweaty mess that somehow looks even more beautiful this way.
“We’re gonna need another bath,” she chuckles.
The night carries on with much of the same taking place. After the bath (and second bath), the three of you fall into bed, quickly finding yourselves tangled in the sheets.
++++++++++
The next morning, you’re awakened by the sound of your phone buzzing incessantly on the hotel table. Your head is pounding and you’re not sure if it’s the couple glasses of wine you had, or the dehydration from the many orgasms both women pulled from you last night. Probably a mixture of both.
Speaking of Shoko and Utahime, you stretch carefully in bed, remembering you all fell asleep with you sandwiched between them. But you’re left confused when you don’t feel a warm body on either side of you. You open your eyes slowly, wincing when the early morning rays of sun feel like a punch to the forehead. But even the aching in your skull isn’t enough for you to ignore that you appear to be alone in a hotel room that is not yours.
You crawl out of bed, peering around the room. “Hello?” You call out, and it feels like your voice is echoing, bouncing off the walls of this quiet room. You check the bathroom and find it’s empty. You check the closet and don’t see any evidence that clothes were inside last night. “Maybe they just had to leave,” you murmur to yourself. Because it helps soothe the nagging feeling you have sitting in the pit of your stomach at the moment.
Shrugging off the feeling, you go about your morning as you normally would. You shower, brush your teeth, dress in the clothes you’d come over in last night and plan on heading back home to report back to work.
Your phone is still buzzing when you’re about ready to head out. You finally pick it up, unlocking the device and seeing a plethora of missed calls as well as several text messages from some of your team members and associates.
Associate 1: Where are you?
Associate 1: 911!! Please pick up!
You roll your eyes, wondering what trouble they’d gotten into last night. What mess will you have to clean up this morning?
Associate 3: PLEASE ANSWER THE PHONE
Director: You need to call me.
Director: NOW.
Slight panic begins to set in, and you continue scrolling through your messages. There’s one from an unknown number, sent in the early hours of the morning. You open the message, eyes practically bulging out of your head when you see the contents.
Unknown: No hard feelings, okay? We really needed the exposure so we could get booked for more shows. Thanks for last night! - H
Another text comes through, and you think you might be fucking sick when you read it. It’s a link to a news article for…Jujutsu Journal? Stupid ass name, but it’s a gossip blog so what did you expect? 
The page has screenshots of a very familiar scene. You and the models in the bath. You and Utahime on the bed with your heads thrown back in ecstasy. A blurred pic, censoring what may be the dirtiest of all – you bent over the bed on all fours, with your face buried between Utahime’s legs while Shoko (and her lilac colored strap) destroy you from behind. 
Where the absolute hell would they get these?!
The headline reads:
TAKING RELATING TO THE PUBLIC TO A WHOLE NEW LEVEL! Head Public Relations manager for one of Japan’s top fashion magazines is in quite a pickle! This morning Jujutsu Journal received EXCLUSIVE footage of her in various intimate positions with models Shoko Ieiri and Utahime Iori! Rumor has it these two are already booked and busy. Meanwhile, it looks like this Public Relations manager may soon be booted and broke! Want to see the tape? Click here to sign up for exclusive members only access!
The pieces begin to connect, your mind flashing back to just last night. The camera is right where you left it the night before. Well, where Utahime left it. But when your fingers push the button to open the tape cartridge, you find it empty. All the footage from the night before is gone! You feel like you may faint. All these years of being so careful, at least twenty steps ahead. All the progress you’ve made…gone.
And not just that! Now there’s a sextape of you three floating around the internet! Is that why Utahime was fumbling around with the camera? Why Shoko went out of her way to distract you? So that she could buy Utahime time to turn the camera on and hit record? Is that why they showed so much interest in you in the first place? Everything is beginning to make more and more sense, while simultaneously making less and less sense. You’re so confused.
“What the fuck?” You mutter to no one but yourself.
Your phone buzzes. You’re scared to look, but you know you should.
“What…the…fuck…” You still can’t believe this is happening. To you of all people.
Your eyes see the name light up on your screen. It’s your boss.
There’s no way you’ll be able to spin this one. 
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moonstruckme · 7 months ago
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absolutely live for ur roommate!james could you maybe write one on him meeting some of readers friends for the first time or calling james to pick u up after a girls night 😇would love to see him finally feel “included” in our life like we are in his
Thank you for requesting lovely!
cw: alcohol
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │part 12 │ part 13
roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1k words
James is so absorbed in the football match on his phone that when there’s a tap on the window next to his face, he jolts halfway across the center console and squeaks like he’s twelve years old again. 
You’re beaming outside the car. Your shoulders shake with quiet, un-self-conscious laughter, so it’s impossible for James to be any kind of upset. Still, he makes a show of huffing a little as his own smile spreads. He reaches over and opens his door. 
“Sorry,” you say. You don’t look it, so he lets you off the hook for your over-apologizing. 
“Who do you think would drive you home if I had a heart attack?” James asks. He’s somewhat breathless, either because of the scare or the easier-than-usual grin still fixed on your face. 
You lean against the side of his car and roll your eyes. “Oh, your heart’s too healthy to be in danger of attacks.” 
“What are you doing on this side of the car? You’re the passenger, you know.”
“Okay, listen.” You give him a very intentional look. It’s more eye contact than he’s used to from you, and it makes his guts go all twisty in a surprisingly nice way. “It’s completely up to you, of course, but I think I’m about to make you an offer you can’t refuse.” 
It clicks into place. “You’re drunk.” 
“Not very.” Your grin is a short fall from impish. Your eyes sparkle. God help him. “But you’re about to be.” 
James feels his eyebrows float up. “How do you figure?” 
“Because I’ve come to collect you. If you want.” 
“To collect me…where?”
“Inside,” you say, as though this should be obvious. You tip your head towards the restaurant. “We’ve just closed, and we have so much wine. Pleasepleaseplease, James, come in.” 
“Okay.” He’s letting you tug him from his car before he knows what he’s agreed to, only that one please will always be enough to get whatever you want from him. “Alright, love, but doesn’t your manager mind that you’re drinking their wine?” 
You let loose a bark of laughter, loud and sharp and totally unlike you. “Tom? Yeah, right.” 
Tom, James learns quickly upon entering the rowdy atmosphere of your workplace after hours, is younger than the both of you, hardly old enough to serve alcohol and yet managing the restaurant. And the wine isn’t stolen, necessarily, but the fortunate leavings of a wealthy customer who bought more bottles than his table could handle and then left nearly all of them. 
Everyone who’d been on the night shift is strewn about the empty restaurant. Servers and busboys and dishwashers all perched on stools, standing behind the bar, sitting criss-cross-applesauce on tables. You take James by the hand, first reclaiming the bottle of wine you’d evidently stored behind the host’s station and then leading him around the room to introduce him to various coworkers. His hand feels warm and tingly. You have an easy repartee and a million in-jokes with the servers, but even the kitchen staff seems to adore you. As they rightly should, James thinks. It’s obvious you’re as kind and considerate here as you are at home, and he feels a bit silly for not having been able to picture you in this place so clearly before now. 
Art is working with you again tonight. It’s embarrassing, the warm wave of relief that James feels when he notices you don’t pay him any extra attention. He makes a mental note to extend his offer of a ride home more often. Every time your hand starts to slip from James’, you readjust your grip before he can even think of doing it himself. Suits him just fine; ever since your mugging incident, suddenly James is in this weird place where he always wants a hand on you.
You say his name, and then the lip of a bottle is being pushed against his lips. 
“You haven’t had hardly any.” You look like you’re trying to pout, but your eyes are smiling. 
James takes the bottle from you. He looks you in the eyes as he takes a sip as if to say, Happy? It’s barely enough to warm his throat. “I am still driving us home, you know.”  
The pout is getting better. “I know, but I’m trying to be fun for you. You don’t have to drive us if you don’t want to! You’re always the one doing the nice things.” 
“Oh, don’t.” His tone is fonder than he means for it to be, but luckily you’re too tipsy to mind. “You’re plenty fun. You do nice things for me all the time.” 
“Yeah, but not enough to balance out.” You make your eyes big and pitiful. James feels fortunate this isn’t a skill you seem inclined to utilize sober. “Obviously you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but—Jamie, don’t hold back because of me, please.” 
His stomach does an impressive flip. He doesn’t think you realize you’ve called him that, doubts you’d have done it under normal circumstances, but his nervous system cares not for rationalizations. He wants desperately to hear you say it again. 
You beam as James lifts the bottle to his lips again, taking a few hearty gulps. You both end up walking home that night, but you wake even before James to go retrieve his car in the morning.
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mondaymelon · 9 months ago
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₊⊹ 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐩 ! ♡. | xiao, kaveh, gorou, lyney, wriothesley x gn!reader
⤷ art by @/grimruu on twitter... i added the boops :> .. fluff, established relationship. dw its an actual fic ( just trsut me )
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" boop ! "
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— 𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎
he's startled, that's something certain. xiao's not used to random actions like this; shouldn't one move with purpose...?
blinking at you, his round eyes are more so filled with surprise than disdain. "what... what did you just-" yet... well, you've just tapped your finger to his nose, and now you're grinning like an idiot... truly, the hearts of mortals were something he'd never quite understand.
"it's fun!" yet again, you move forwards, and while xiao is expecting another "boop" from your finger, he's caught off guard when you give him a small kiss on the nose instead.
"boop."
xiao's voice is uncharacteristically faint, quiet. "ah..."
he hides his face behind a hand, trying to evade his clear embarrassment before it catches your eyes. "you're so... stupid."
... and you'd almost believe it, if it weren't for the evident flush dusted across the tips of his ears.
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" boop ! "
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— 𝐊𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐇
he's well into his third drink by the time you boop his nose, and it takes him another few seconds and a lethargic blink or two before he even registers the action.
when he does, a silly smile spreads across his face, his already drunkenly flushed cheeks warming further. "booop?" the word slurs together, and a slow finger moves to boop you on your nose as well.
too bad, it misses the mark, and he ends up poking your upper lip, frowning when he does so. "ah, oops... lemme try again..." this time, he manages to find your nose. a smugly proud smile appears on his features thanks to the success.
god, he was so pathetic. you loved him for it.
cupping his cheek, you sneakily lean forward and press a kiss to his nose. his skin is warm to the touch. "boop." before he can strike back, you hit him with a double combo, this time kissing him on the lips.
"whuh.. no fair," his eyebrows furrow as he pouts childishly. "i wan..na... too..."
he falls asleep before he can finish his sentence, slumping onto the table and conking out immediately. as expected. you tuck his messy hair behind his ear with a fond smile. he'd have a hell of a headache in the morning. ah, but... tolerating his whines would be worth it — you'd gotten to kiss him, after all.
... his lips tasted like wine.
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" boop ! "
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— 𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐔
he jolts like he's been shocked, and you have to suppress a laugh at the sight. "e-eh, what was-?" one of his ears twitches subconsciously, and you can tell he's trying to maintain eye contact to the best of his abilities. hey, it wasn't everyday your lover swung by camp just to tap you on the nose... were you teasing him??
"it's a boop." you state it, matter-of-fact, and gorou only grows more helplessly confused. "boop." just like that, you poke him again. his eyes widen in realization (though he's far off the mark). agh, could it be that more rumors had spread of his "good luck", except this time, instead of rubbing his ears for good fortune, it's tapping his nose instead..?
you watch his eyes swirl with perplexion — really, what was the point in watching those highly-acclaimed entertainment films from fontaine when an entire life's worth of entertainment was right in front of you? "c'mon, don't tell me you've fallen for it too?"
...what was he even talking about? no matter, it was cute seeing him panic (though he'd disagree). you smile at him cheekily, "fallen? why, gorou, the only thing i've fallen for is you ~"
silence.
then the sound of someone choking. gorou upright sputters, his face hopelessly red, before springing forward and getting his revenge; that is, kissing you on the tip of your nose, too embarrassed to keep his eyes open while doing so.
"ugh, you're such a tease..."
... how could you not be, when he was so adorable?
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" boop ! "
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— 𝐋𝐘𝐍𝐄𝐘
he smiles, his eyes twinkling as they become upturned crescents. "oh? a tap to the nose..." he seems oddly delighted in the action, and perks up not long after, with a strange, mischievous shine in his eyes.
he shuffles through his signature deck of cards with a grin. "love, why don't you pick a card? any card from the deck, whichever one you want~"
you eye him suspiciously.
he has the demeanor of a cunning cat, one that if you turn your gaze away from for a mere second, is sure to cause trouble. well... he was your lover, so you should have some faith in him. drawing a card from the ones he's presented in his hands, you receive the two of hearts.
before you can even properly glance up from your cards, you're met with a faceful of brilliant red roses, each delicate petal perfectly curving in place and green, glistening leaves healthy and lush. lyney's the one behind it all, a smug smile on his lips, and before you can even open your mouth to speak, he leaps forward and swiftly kisses your nose.
"boop."
and he sticks his tongue out, smoothly tucking a rose (without thorns, mind you) into your hair.
hell, he was so smooth. your brain wasn't even able to register half his actions until half a minute after, and when you did, your face burned.
"haha~ what's wrong, love?"
... this guy was seriously dangerous for your heart.
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" boop ! "
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— 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘
he stares you dead in the eyes, in a sort of, "did you really just do that?" kind of way. it's not that he's disappointed, per say, but more so shocked; even siegewinnie wouldn't dare do such a thing like pokingg the duke's nose, (on second thought, maybe she would)... either way, he sits there in a sort of shell-shocked manner, the cup of tea he had begun to lift to his lips long forgotten. "you..."
"boop." you say it like it's all the explanation he needs. in case he doesn't understand, you'll be so generous as to say it a second time, nodding your head for extra confirmation. "boop."
he lets out a lighthearted sigh, one that makes it easy to tell he's on the edge of releasing a chuckle. crossing his arms over his desk and leaning over it, he grabs your chin with his fingers, gently lifting it to raise your gaze to his level.
"boop." this time, he's the one booping you, and he seems all too amused about it, a sly smile on his lips as he does it moves to do it once more. "boop."
hey, was he copying you-? the thought isn't able to completely form before your brain utterly short circuits; the reason? none other than the duke of the fortress of meropide kissing your nose, of course.
wriothesley's enjoying this way too much... yet he seems so utterly unaffected when he pulls away, settling back into his chair and taking a serene sip of his tea, like he hadn't just committed several war crimes against your heart.
... fuck, if it skipped too many beats, would you die??
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(a/n) happy boop- i mean april fools dayyy !! mwah mwah watch me pull some "im quitting" shii next year :>
𝐭 𝐚 𝐠 𝐥 𝐢 𝐬 𝐭 : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader,@fiannee, @aether-darling, @ceneid, @avensuersa, @dainsleif-when-playable, @solxima, @sangoqueenkoko, @haliyamori ...
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lcvemiyuki · 7 months ago
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"nostalgia and night patrols" | daichi, hq
𓂃𓂃𓂃𓊝 ࿐𓂃𓂃𓂃
content: after years apart, a chance encounter with your childhood crush, daichi, leads to a night that opens up a box of unspoken feelings for you; welcome home, y/n.
warnings: fluff, high school classmates to ??, timeskip!daichi, f!reader, y/n is clingy+touchy while drunk, drinking, light cursing
character(s): daichi
word count: 2878
a/n: rewrote this 3-4 times...but timeskip!daichi mmmmm. (not proofread!)
art cred: @/W4W7o (on twt)
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
the moon gleams down onto miyagi as you and your friends celebrate your success in opening up your own business. it was only a matter of time before you built something from the ground up, fulfilling a promise you made to yourself to visit your hometown once your shop opened. its been five years since you’ve last been home. you were determined to come back and make your friends and family proud.
keep pushing forward, even when it gets tough.
it pulls at your heartstrings every time; what was he up to these days?
𓇢𓆸 later that night
the bell chimes once more as customers pour into the chaotic restaurant; dishes piling up on each table as work ends for every adult.
“i think that's enough for tonight, y/n!” your friend exclaims in concern while rubbing circles on your back.
what started with light drinking and bubbly laughter ends with your face down on the cold, metal table. your friends worryingly nudge you, fearing the last round might make you hurl.
your raven-haired friend nervously laughs, and you only make groaning noises as a sign of life. “okay! are you ready to take this lightweight home?” she claps her hands together, directing the conversation to the girl with curls framing her face, whose eyebrows furrow in worry for you.
the three of you soon exit the busy restaurant, and you wave your hand in the air, hoping your words reach the owner. “thank you for your service!” your friends stifle a chuckle as they cage you in and hold you up.
“i hope she wakes up and gives us a hundred bucks each for this tomorrow,” the raven-haired girl jokes as she struggles to hold up her end. a sigh heaves on the other side as the curly-haired girl tries to blow her curls out of her face.
as you stumble down the quiet, moonlit street, your intoxicated state makes you a challenging companion. you occasionally mumble incoherent words, your legs wobbling and causing your friends to adjust their grip frequently. you are a comical sight, half-laughing, half-struggling, as you make your way through the sleepy town.
“maybe we should have just gotten a cab,” the curly-haired friend mutters, her breath visible in the chilly night air.
“no way, we’re almost there,” the raven-haired girl replies, though the strain in her voice suggests otherwise.
just as you turn the corner, you almost bump into a tall figure. the streetlight illuminates his familiar features—daichi sawamura. his eyes widen in surprise, then soften in recognition.
“daichi!” the curly-haired friend exclaims, relief washing over her. “perfect timing. can you help us get y/n home? she’s, well, had a bit too much.”
“oh yeah, suprise! y/n’s home.” the other one chimed in, her free hand doing jazz hands.
at the sound of the oh-so-familiar name, you lift your head just enough to peek through your eyelashes.
he looks so grown up now. the light blue uniform clings to his form, the short sleeves seemingly inadequate for the freezing night. yet, he stands unbothered by the cold, a picture of unwavering composure. his broad shoulders fill out the fabric with ease, and the muscles of his arms bulge slightly, pressing against the tight sleeves. in the dim light, his presence is commanding, a blend of strength and tranquility, as if the cold air dares not touch him.
you audibly gasp, a hiccup or two crawling out of your throat.
“desk-mate!” you slur, your words slightly muddled as you throw yourself at him, intoxication evident in the lack of coordination in your movements.
daichi's muscles tense momentarily at the unexpected weight crashing into him, but he quickly steadies himself. his fingerless, black-gloved hand finding its place on your head with a gentle pat. an awkward laugh bubbles from his lips as he glances at your amused friends, one of whom is already lifting her phone to capture the hilarious scene, while the other attempts to push the phone back down.
“hey, easy there,” he chuckles softly. his tone, slightly raspy and warm, makes you straighten up slightly as he tries to guide you to compose balance.
“it’s nice to see you too, y/n,” he adds with a warm smile, his hand continuing to smooth your hair out in a playful yet reassuring manner. his gaze flickered briefly to your friends who are now fully engaged in their mock make-out session; hands crossed and on their backs rubbing all over the place as if it were someone else's.
you don’t say a word as if you could even make out any of the conversation—your heart drumming is to blame.
despite his attempts to help you stand up straight, you droop your head back down. your giggles mixing with the chilly night air as you lean heavily against him.
with practiced ease, daichi catches your stumbling frame once more, positioning himself for you to climb onto his back.
“all right, y/n, can you hop on? i can hold your heels if you want,” he offers gently, mindful not to speak too loudly given your state.
you respond with a playful salute, your movements exaggeratedly dramatic. “aye aye, captain!” you chirp, swiftly kicking off your black wedges before wrapping your arms snugly around his neck.
as daichi hoists the giggling, slightly wobbly you onto his back, he gestures for your two friends to walk in front of him, ensuring they remain within his line of sight. you four navigate through the dimly lit streets.
a few minutes into your impromptu piggyback ride, you, in a moment of drunken clarity, peek over daichi's shoulder and lazily poke his cheek.
“are you the real daichi? like, really?” your words slur slightly, carrying a curious lilt. “i thought i was hallucinating when i first saw you, mr. officer,” you ramble on, your train of thought not allowing daichi a chance to reassure you.
“oh my god, did i just randomly hug you? what if you aren't the real daichi?” your expression shifts to one of concern, teetering on the edge of tears. “it’s okay, you can arrest me, mr. officer. i've been inappropriate with law enforcement,” you add with a serious expression, offering your wrists for imaginary cuffs in shame.
this has daichi turning his head in the opposite direction to stop the laughter bubbling up his throat; a small grin curls upward. you squint at him a bit harder to see and can’t find the answer as to why it’s so funny.
your curious mind once again spoke out loud, “huh? what's so funny, mister? does this mean i’m not going to the slammer?” you reach out, placing your hand over the officer's heart, and sigh in relief as if it were your own.
his footsteps falter for a moment as he clears his throat, “y/n, you don’t have to worry. it’s me, daichi,” finally finding an opening to reassure you.
a few deafening seconds pass by as the cogs in your brain turn. “…oh,” a few more seconds pass, “oh! daichi!” your palm departs from his chest, and snakes upward to squish his cheeks.
the touch of your cold hands once again startles the officer, but they soon warm with the use of body heat.
you ramble on, your palms gently turning his head to face yours. “well, why didn’t you say that in the first place?! ah, it feels good to know i won’t get arrested after all.”
his smile widens, amusement dancing in his eyes. "you know i wouldn't arrest you, even if you tried to talk me into it." he replies, his voice teasing.
he had always been the sensible one in the class, the steady presence that balanced your more pessimistic tendencies. despite your different aspirations—his to excel in nationals and yours to make something of your own—you both found a middle ground through your shared ambition. you admired his dedication and often found yourself inspired by his drive, feelings that blossomed into a secret crush. even though your paths diverged, you continued to support him quietly. however, emails changed and no phone numbers were exchanged making it inevitable to lose touch; yet, the memory of him remained, a constant whisper in the back of your mind.
𓇢𓆸 five years ago
it was a sunny spring day, and the cherry blossoms were in full bloom; their petals gracefully drifting past the glass-paned windows.
our last day together.
you wanted to say it, to let those three words spill out and maybe change everything—but something inside you held your tongue. perhaps, it was the fear of being rejected.
‘you’re leaving for tokyo after graduation. why confess now? and have him wait for you for who knows how long? what if he doesn’t even like you back?’
the more you thought about all the possibilities, the more you convinced yourself against it.
a calloused hand rested on your shoulder, snapping you out of your thoughts. “y/n,” he said, drawing your attention to his familiar short, coal-black hair. “are you worried about something?”
his eyes innocently searched yours.
‘about you, actually.’
“…yeah. i think i might get homesick, you know?” you played along—it was too late anyway. you didn’t want to ruin this happy moment right now; not when it’s the last day before everyone moves on to the next chapter of their lives.
“keep pushing forward, even when it gets tough.” his eyes were filled with concern.
you knew he wanted to say more, but was cut short by the class photographer passing by, wanting a picture of the two of you.
“daichi! y/n! let me get some pictures!” the enthusiastic classmate aligned the camera with you both as you smiled for the picture—daichi’s arm snaked toward your waist, his touch light and almost hesitant.
“say cheese!” the camera clicked twice with flashing lights.
it was a memory you wanted to hold onto forever, even if your heart ached with the words you couldn’t bring yourself to say.
𓇢𓆸 present day
some things never change.
ten minutes pass as daichi ensures the other two ladies make it back to their house safe and sound. both give him a good luck pat and wiggle eyebrows—he only rolls his eyes in response, a tiny chuckle escaping his lips as he watches them disappear into their house.
turning back to you, he notices your eyes drooping. his black boots clack softly on the cement as he continues the trip. “come on, let’s get you home,” he says softly.
the night is quiet, save for the distant sounds of crickets and the occasional car passing by. daichi can feel your breath against his neck, a steady reminder of your presence.
“daichi, you’ve always been there for me,” you mumble, your words barely audible breaking the silence.
just like in old times; he would always stick up for you and be the voice of reason whenever you got too much in your head.
his eyes flicker to the side to check up on you. “i’ll always be here for you, y/n,” he replies, his voice filled with sincerity.
“officer daichi to the rescue,” you tease, your voice filled with playful cheerfulness.
as you approach your front door, daichi pauses, his brows furrowing with apprehension. before he can speak, the door swings open, revealing your parents standing there, worry etched on their faces.
“oh, thank goodness,” your mother sighs in relief—a hand held to her heart as if she had gotten a big scare, “come in, both of you.”
your father steps aside, allowing daichi to guide you inside. “thank you for bringing her home safely, daichi,” he says, patting him on the shoulder.
inside, the familiar warmth of your home wraps around you. daichi gently guides you through the hallway to your bedroom, his touch steady and reassuring. your parents follow, watching with concern as he helps you sit on the edge of your bed, his hands lingering on your shoulders for a moment longer than necessary.
“thank you, daichi,” you mumble, your words slurred with exhaustion. “once again, saving my ass.”
he smiles, patting your head. “get some rest, y/n.”
as he turns to leave, you reach out, your hand catching him. “daichi, wait…”
he stops, looking back at you, his eyes filled with concern. “what is it?”
“daichi, i...” you begin, your voice barely more than a whisper. the words are on the tip of your tongue, but the exhaustion and alcohol make it hard to form them. “i...”
before you can finish, sleep overtakes you, your head falling back onto the pillow. daichi watches you for a moment, a mix of emotions playing across his face. he carefully tucks you in, making sure you’re comfortable.
your mother steps closer, her voice soft. “she’s lucky to have a friend like you, daichi.”
he nervously scratched the back of his neck, the weight of the moment dawning on him as he realized this was the first time meeting your parents. "of course," he managed, a hint of awkwardness tinging his chuckle as it slipped out.
“ah, i’m going to run to the store mrs. l/n. just to get her some remedies for tomorrow morning.” she simply nods with a heartwarming smile.
𓇢𓆸 the following morning
soft morning sunlight filters through the cream-colored curtain, casting a warm glow in the room.
you groan slightly and squint to see daylight once again. your hand lifts, reaching your forehead to pinch the pounding in your head. blinking slowly, you try to piece together the events of the previous night.
as you push yourself up, a wave of dizziness hits, and you groan again, cursing your choice to drink so much.
your eyes catch sight of a bottle of water and a few painkillers on the bedside table, alongside a neatly folded note. curiosity piqued, you reach for the note, recognizing daichi's familiar handwriting.
good morning, y/n. i hope your hangover isn’t too bad. i left some medicine for you. take it easy and rest up. if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call me. - daichi (xxx-xxx-xxxx)
you read the note twice, a mix of gratitude and embarrassment flooding your senses. memories of the previous night begin to surface—your friends struggling to take you home, running into daichi, him carrying you to your bed.
you cringe inwardly, recalling drunken ramblings and how you almost confessed your feelings.
“dear god…” you whisper to yourself, the reality of your behavior sinking in. “what did i do?”
you flop back onto the pillow, groaning loudly.
“why did it have to be daichi? after all these years, and i act like that?” you cover your face with your hands, feeling the heat of embarrassment rise to your cheeks.
images of daichi’s concerned face, his gentle reassurances, and his steady hands guiding you through your house flood your mind. you remember leaning into him, nuzzling his neck, and calling him "officer daichi" with a teasing cheerfulness.
“why did i do that?!” you mutter, your hand repeatedly hitting your pillow as if that could erase the memories.
your heart races as you recall the moment you almost confessed, your drunken state allowing you to voice the feelings you’ve kept buried for so long; thanking the universe sleep had taken over you beforehand.
“what does he think of me now?” you wonder aloud, anxiety creeping in. “i acted like such an idiot.”
you take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing thoughts. unscrewing the bottle of water, you down the painkillers, hoping they’ll at least take care of the headache. as you do, you glance at the note again, daichi’s words providing a small comfort.
“always helping everyone still,” you whisper to yourself.
you couldn't help but glance over again at the digits scribbled at the end of the note; your heart fluttered once more like a teenager giggling over a crush.
𓇢𓆸 last night
with the small box of headache medicine in hand, he approached the counter, fumbling for his wallet. as he pulled it out, something fell from one of the inner pockets—a small, slightly worn photo. daichi paused, staring at the picture that had slipped out.
the photo was from high school, a candid shot taken by one of their classmates. in it, you were smiling brightly, your eyes crinkling at the corners with genuine happiness. daichi was right beside you, but his gaze wasn’t on the camera; it was on you. his expression was soft, a quiet admiration in his eyes that he had never voiced out loud.
a soft smile tugged at daichi’s lips as he remembered the moment. he could almost hear the laughter of that day, and feel the warmth of your presence beside him. tucking the photo back into his wallet, he felt a pang of nostalgia mixed with something more—a longing that had never quite gone away.
‘you’re finally home’
a surge of emotion washing over him. it was as if he had been waiting all these years, silently holding onto the hope that one day, you'd return.
the weight of unspoken words and hidden glances pressed heavily on his heart.
he was set on making sure you saw him more than just a lingering memory of the past.
𓇼𓆉𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆉𓇼
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edgeray · 5 months ago
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To Celebrate a Life [Arlecchino Birthday Special]
(Arlecchino x GN! Reader)
A/N - When I tell you that I ran to Google Docs after seeing Arlecchino's birthday art, I ran. Thank you @myfriendcallsmebun for texting me and reminding me of the birthday art. Happy birthday my beautiful husband, I'd give you the world if my heart isn't enough. Content Warnings - suggestiveness in the middle, Arlecchino-centric, 1.0k words
Arlecchino was not one to celebrate holidays, less her own birthday. As a Fatui Harbinger, every day, regardless of holiday or not, business and duty remains a constant; every morning starts the same, just as every night ends the same. Still, the holidays give the children a much-needed respite, a momentary holder of joy, a distraction from the grim world of the Fatui. As their ‘Father,’ the children's mental and emotional wellbeing are just as significant as their physical, and so, such leisures are crucial as well. While her birthday may be to celebrate ‘her,’ Arlecchino finds little value in appreciating the day she was born–if anything, it is only an excuse for another barbeque dinner. 
As she works on paperwork in her office, she checks the window behind to the side. She observes that it is currently late afternoon. Strange. Usually during her birthday, the children would pass by throughout the day, leaving behind their respective gifts one at a time. Today, however, no one has entered her office at all today. Even uncannier, she's yet seen you, even though you would usually arrive unannounced at this point. Perhaps you and the children were unaware. If that is the case, then Arlecchino will not make the special occasion apparent, not when there is no need. After all, there is little to celebrate for her life. 
It is a shame that the steak will become a waste. 
She picks back up the pen. Some time passes before there's finally a knock on the door. 
“Arlecchino? Can I come in?” Your familiar voice sounds through the door. 
“Yes, come in, love,” she replies, lifting her head up to face you. You enter, an evident glee on your face as you stroll around her desk and reach her. Arlecchino swivels in her chair towards you, and you don't hesitate to perch yourself on her lap.
“I've missed my husband,” you murmured, planting your face in between her neck and shoulder, inhaling her cologne. 
“I've been here for the majority of the day. Did you go out?” Arlecchino questions, pressing a kiss against the shell of your ear and wrapping an arm around your back. 
“I did. I went out for some… errands,” you say, and immediately, Arlecchino raises an eyebrow. You aren't one to hand out vague responses, so suspicions begin to develop within the Harbinger. Nonetheless, she states nothing, only prioritizing her indulgence in your presence. 
“Speaking of which…” You pull your head away from her body, gazing up at her with pleading eyes–eyes more demanding than any gaze from an Archon. “Can you help me with the bags?”
“Darling, how much did you spend?” The Harbinger inquires, placing a hand on your hips to lift you off of her lap. “The children couldn't help you?”
“I can't have the children looking inside,” you give her a cheeky smile with a twinkle of mischief in your eyes and Arlecchino huffs, pinching your cheek as she rises from her chair. 
“Does our collection not satisfy you enough, you insatiable thing?” Arlecchino follows you towards the door. 
“Nothing with you will ever satisfy me,” you smirk. 
As you lead her out the room, Arlecchino is suddenly greeted with the mass of her children, all adorning cheerful expressions. In front of her, Freminet, Lyney, and Lynette present her with a cake, while the other children hold cupcakes and wrapped boxes. As the Harbinger observes more, the cupcakes aren't uniform–amateurly designed as if the children had made them themselves.   
“Happy Birthday, Father!” The children exclaim out in unison. Arlecchino blinks and remains still for half a second, before turning to you.
“This was what you were busy with?” She says levely, but you can tell there is a bit of a smile present in her inquiry. You nod vigorously, guiding her by the hand towards the cake. 
“Yes. Did you think we would forget?” You respond back with a chuckle, stroking over the back of her hand with your thumb gingerly. “I would never forget anything related to you.” 
If Arlecchino was any less emotionally repressed, she would flush, or even admit that she was touched by the clear display of effort from you and the children. It couldn't be easy coordinating this. 
“We've prepared your favorite foods in the kitchen already, and set up the barbeque and yard for you, Father,” Lyney states. “We hope it's not too late for you to start.” 
Arlecchino shakes her head. Nothing sounds more excellent than a barbeque right now. “No it is not. Children, let us go to the yard. We can enjoy the food and gifts there.” 
The children are quick to scamper out, Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet following after them to make sure that no one runs, leaving the Harbinger and you behind in the hall. She turns to you, leaning in and pressing her lips against the top of your head. 
“Were you deceiving me earlier about your ‘groceries?’”
“No, I wouldn't want to rile you up with a lie,” you hum. “Maybe later tonight, you'll be able to open my ‘personal’ presents.” 
“I look forward to them,” Arlecchino remarks with a wolfish grin, before raising your hand in hers and kissing against your knuckles. Her eyes soften as your gazes meet one another. 
“The children worked really hard.”
“I’m sure they did. Their efforts are… stirring.” Arlecchino finds it hard to deny the lightness in her chest, the abnormal warmth throughout her body that wasn't the bloodfire in her veins. 
“Happy birthday, Peruere,” you say sincerely, your voice resounding with gentle fondness. “I really… I can’t imagine myself without you. I’m really happy I’m with you. I want you to know how much you mean to me… and the children.” 
You raise your free hand to her cheek, grazing your thumb over her skin as you move a strand of hair away from her face. “I am so thankful for your life. I love you.” 
Arlecchino closes her eyes and leans in, pressing her forehead against yours, a subtle smile on her lips. 
Maybe her life is worth celebrating–you and her children are what make it worth celebrating.
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jjangwonie · 4 months ago
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DOUBLE LIFE
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DOUBLE LIFE MASTERLIST
𓂃⊹ ִֶָ summary: With your anonymous Twitter account, you've acquired a pretty good following and popularity, throughout your school as well. Jake, your long-time crush, is one of them, head over heels. Yet when you once confessed to him, he had rejected your confession, saying that he already has his eye on someone else. What happens when he finds out that his online crush is the person that he rejected? And... How are you going to deal with this?
𓂃⊹ ִֶָ word count: ~2.2k
TWELVE - no girl skills [written]
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"What are you guys doing?"
You and Jungwon look over to the two older boys putting the drinks on the table, who are lightly scanning over Sunoo and Riki.
"What do you mean? I am super casual right now," Riki states with a stoic face while leaning his arm over the chair, one leg propped on the seat of Sunoo, who is leaned back and arms crossed, legs spread out in front of him.
"...Sure." Sunghoon takes a seat across from you, alongside Jake.
You quickly take one of the drinks, gulping down half of it. You don't notice, but Jake does the same with his drink.
Sunoo, ever the social butterfly, keeps the conversation going, regaling the group with an animated story about one of his misadventures in the school's art room. "Anyways, so that's how I ended up with my hair tainted with dark ink spots for a week." he finishes with a sigh, earning chuckles from around the table. "It's giving you a sign to dye your hair back to black." Riki nudges him.
Jungwon, noticing your silence, gently nudges you. "You okay?" he whispers, concern evident in his eyes.
You nod, forcing a smile. "Yeah, just... excited for the performance," you murmur back, grateful for his attentiveness. Meanwhile, Jake sits rigidly in his chair, his eyes darting between you and Sunghoon, clearly uncomfortable. He takes a long sip of his drink, using the glass as a shield to avoid eye contact.
Riki, never one to miss an opportunity for mischief, leans towards Jake. "So, hyung, got any embarrassing stories about Sunghoon hyung to share?" he asks with a sly grin.
Before Jake can respond, Sunghoon interjects, "Don't you dare, Jake. I know where you live." The playful threat breaks some of the tension, eliciting a genuine laugh from the group. Even you can't help but smile at your brother's antics.
Your attention is drawn to the stage as movement catches your eye. Jay and Heeseung are busy setting up, their practised movements showing their familiarity with the routine.
As they adjust the microphones, Heeseung looks up, catching sight of your table. He flashes a charming smile and waves, causing a flutter of excitement to ripple through the pub.
You raise your hand in a small wave back, a soft smile playing on your lips. For a moment, you forget about the awkwardness at the table, allowing yourself to be caught up in the anticipation of the upcoming performance.
Jay notices Heeseung's distraction and follows his gaze to your table. He grins and gives an enthusiastic thumbs up.
"Looks like they're almost ready," Sunghoon observes, his voice carrying a hint of pride for his friends.
"Thank you for letting me take the stage once again," Jay starts, resting his guitar on his lap. "Tonight, I invited my good friend Heeseung to perform a song we've been working on together."
Anticipation washes over you as you lean forward on your chair.
"I hope you all enjoy this evening, this song is called 'Highway 1009'."
The lights dim, Jay and Heeseung's music filling the pub with a warm, inviting atmosphere.
Their smooth voices and the practised strums coming from Jay's guitar make the group at the table fall into a comfortable silence, bobbing their heads to the rhythm and enjoying the performance.
While everyone else is focused on the stage, Jake's mind is elsewhere. His eyes occasionally flick towards you, then back to Sunghoon, guilt gnawing at him.
'I can't believe I rejected Sunghoon's sister', he thinks, his fingers tapping nervously on his glass. 'If he finds out... No, I can't tell him.' Jake tries to lose himself in the music, but his thoughts keep circling back. 'Why am I so worried about this? It shouldn't matter, right?'
The final notes of the song ring out, snapping Jake back to reality. He joins in the enthusiastic applause, pushing his conflicted thoughts aside for now.
Soon, Jay and Heeseung join the table, still buzzing with post-performance energy. The conversation flows more freely now, the earlier awkwardness dissipating.
"So, Riki," Heeseung grins, "I hear you've been giving Jake a run for his money on the football field?"
Riki puffs up his chest. "Well, I don't like to brag, but..."
"Yes, you do," you interject with a roll of your eyes.
Jake laughs, finally relaxing a bit. "He's not wrong though. Riki's got some serious skills."
The conversation shifts, and suddenly you find yourself the center of attention as Riki recounts a recent incident with a mischievous glint in his eye.
"Oh, you should have seen it," he says, barely containing his laughter. "y/n was being particularly sour one day, so I thought I'd help her match her outfit to her attitude-"
You groan, covering his mouth with your palm. "Riki, don't you dare-" but you quickly jump back the moment you feel his teeth nip your palm and you dry your hand with a disgusted face.
"Ah, that is what happened that other day, huh?" Heeseung smirks. "Don't worry, y/n. You looked awfully cute in your gym apparel." His comment gains some snickers along the table.
"I'll get you back for this, Nishimura Riki." You huff while looking away. Jungwon slips a quick candy in your hand with a smile, signalling to not get too worked up about it.
As the night wears on, you notice Sunoo, Jungwon, and Riki exchanging glances. Suddenly, they start gathering their things.
"Well, it's been fun, but we should head out," Sunoo announces, a little too cheerfully.
You eye them suspiciously. "Wait, what? Why are you leaving?"
Jungwon gives you a meaningful look. "We've got that... thing, remember? The one we talked about earlier?"
"What thing?" you ask, genuinely confused.
Riki rolls his eyes. "The thing where we leave you to bond with your brother and his friends," he whispers, not quite softly enough.
Your eyes widen in realization and a touch of panic. "Oh. No, wait. Why?" you manage, shooting them a 'please don't leave me' look.
But your friends are already saying their goodbyes, Sunoo giving you a sneaky wink as they depart, leaving you at the table with Sunghoon, Heeseung, Jay, and Jake.
You throw your head back into your chair. 'Great. Now what?'
As if by some cosmic joke, you suddenly find yourself alone at the table with Jake. Sunghoon, Jay, and Heeseung had excused themselves, muttering something about helping the staff with equipment or getting more drinks - you weren't really paying attention, too focused on the fact that you were now in the exact situation you'd been dreading all night.
An awkward silence stretches between you and Jake, both of you fidgeting with your drinks.
That horrendous memory keeps replaying, of how much you made a fool of yourself. Your eyes linger on a spot on the wall as you rethink all your decisions up until now.
Finally, Jake clears his throat.
"Listen, y/n," he starts, his voice low and hesitant. "I wanted to apologize. For that day at the school festival. I feel terrible about how it went."
You blink and slowly face him, surprised by his directness. "Oh, um, it's okay. Really. It was some time ago and you didn't know who I was."
Jake runs a hand through his hair, a habit of his. "Did you... did you ever tell Sunghoon about it?"
You shake your head quickly. "No, no. I could never, I'd never hear the end of it. Did you?"
"No, I haven't," Jake sighs, relief evident in his voice.
A beat passes, and then Jake attempts to keep the conversation going. "So, how's your classes going? Sunghoon mentioned you were in Advanced Writing?"
You nod. "Yeah."
Jake shifts in his seat to turn to you more. "How is it? And isn't that class taught in the building on campus me and your brother are?"
"Uh, yeah. It is, but I am there briefly because it is only once a week." Your eyes shift. "And classes are okay. It's challenging but I enjoy it," you respond, offering a soft smile.
Jake's mouth twitches at the soft smile, feeling like the awkwardness may be fading, even if it's small. "Oh, I see. Might explain why I have never seen you around." He takes a sip of his drink as he looks around the room, still feeling a bit awkward himself.
As short small talk continues, you find yourself relaxing slightly, though your responses remain brief. Jake, on the other hand, seems to be genuinely enjoying the conversation, his earlier nervousness fading, as he leans back in his chair while facing you.
After a lull, you gather your courage and ask, "So, um, any luck with that girl you had your eye on? The one you mentioned... before."
Jake's face lights up, but then he composes himself. "Actually, yeah. We've been talking online for a bit now. It's been really nice. She's funny and sweet, and I genuinely like talking to her."
You look up. "Really?" your voice comes out a bit more as a surprise. You look down at your drink as you stir the straw around aimlessly, trying not to seem too surprised. "That's great. I'm happy for you." Your voice sounds timid, shy to talk to him face to face again.
Jake, caught up in his enthusiasm, doesn't notice your slightly strained voice. He's about to ask you about your own love life when a familiar voice cuts through the air.
"Well, well, what do we have here?"
Sunghoon's teasing tone makes both you and Jake jump slightly. He's standing there with Jay and Heeseung, a playful but slightly protective glint in his eye.
"Jake, my man," Sunghoon continues, slinging an arm around his friend's shoulders. "What exactly were you discussing with my little sister, hm?"
Jake's eyes widen, and you can almost see him mentally scrambling for a response. "We were just, uh, talking about school and stuff. Right, y/n?"
You nod quickly, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. "Yep, just school. Very boring, academic stuff."
Heeseung raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Uh-huh. Jake not putting his girl skills to use this time?" he says with a wiggle of his eyebrows.
Jay chuckles, elbowing Heeseung. "Come on, leave them alone. I'm pretty sure that Jake doesn't have girl skills like that."
As the others settle back into their seats, the earlier one-on-one atmosphere dissipates. You look off and sigh in relief.
The night wears on, and the conversation at the table becomes more animated and relaxed. Jake finds himself leaning in, eager to learn more about you, realizing how little he actually knows compared to the rest.
"So, y/n," Jay prompts with a grin, "tell us about your latest battle with Riki."
You roll your eyes dramatically, slumping back into your seat. "Oh, where do I even start? The other day, he decided it would be hilarious to replace all my bookmarks with pictures of himself."
Sunghoon groans, "Not again. I swear, half the stories I hear at home start with 'Oh my gosh you won't believe what Riki did today.'"
"To be fair," you counter, "I got him back. Let's just say that you'll be finding glitter in his gym clothes for the upcoming days." You wave your finger around with your eyes closed, gaining a soft laugh out of Jake.
Jay chuckles, shaking his head. "I love how Jungwon and Sunoo seem so sweet toward you but have to tear you guys apart before you two tear each other's throat out."
"I think it's sweet," Heeseung chimes in, a playful look on his face. "You know, Riki might just enjoy getting a rise out of you. Some people tease the ones they want attention from."
You scoff. "Please, Riki? He's like an annoying little brat."
As the night draws to a close, everyone starts gathering their things. Sunghoon checks his phone and nudges you. "We should head home, y/n. It's getting late."
Goodbyes are exchanged, and you and Sunghoon are the first to leave. As you walk away, you can't help but let your gaze linger a second too long at the table.
Back at the pub, Jay, Heeseung, and Jake are left, nursing the last of their drinks.
Heeseung leans back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his eye. "You know, y/n looked so pretty tonight. It's really different from the school clothes."
Jay's protective instinct kicks in immediately. "Hey now, watch it. That's basically my little sister you're talking about."
Heeseung holds up his hands in mock surrender, then turns to Jake. "What do you think, Jake? You've been pretty quiet."
Jake freezes for a moment, his mind flashing back to your earlier conversation. He clears his throat, shaking his head. "She is pretty chill. She seemed shy at first, but she is cool to talk to." The others nod, yet Heeseung doesn't seem satisfied with the answer.
He leans over the table, a smirk on his face. "Don't you think she is pretty?" He asks, making Jake cough on his last sips. "Come on. That's Sunghoon's little sister. Don't be weird." He answers.
Jay shakes his head. "Okay, hyung. I guess we call it a night, yeah? I don't want to hear this," he says as he stands up with a lighthearted scoff.
Heeseung merely laughs and glances over at Jake before patting Jay on the back. "Okay, okay, my bad. I won't pry any more, tonight."
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greenlikethesea · 2 years ago
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@sparklyslug and I commissioned the incredible @mardyart to draw a pivotal scene from our fic, Three Weddings and a Funeral, a part in our currently sprawling universe Let us Dwell in Fair Ithilien and There Make a Garden. For those who have read, you might recognize this as a scene from the third chapter, post [redacted] funeral, where Steve and Eddie have a conversation in the Byers-Hopper kitchen about what is deserved.
Thank you so much for this beautiful art, Mardy. We’re so unbelievably thrilled with the finished product, and we couldn’t be happier. You’re the best!
Referenced fic excerpt under the cut, for context!
 “Oh Joyce, love of my life,” Eddie says to himself, removing several pints of Ben and Jerry’s from the freezer and lining them up on the kitchen counter. Without even asking Steve for his preference, he wordlessly hands Steve the almost full pint of Cherry Garcia. He just knows which one is his favorite, apparently, which shouldn’t surprise Steve as much as it does. “Do you think it’s too soon to propose to her?”
 “I see your stance on asking people out at funerals has changed,” Steve remarks, ignoring the swoop in his stomach at Eddie’s (playful, completely not serious, Joyce is their mom) suggestion.
 “First of all, post-funeral is fair game,” Eddie says as he gets out two bowls and two spoons; he, like Steve, knows this kitchen like the back of his hand. Even knows where to find a jar of apparently unopened maraschino cherries, theatrically blowing the dust off the lid into Steve’s face, who in return theatrically coughs and gags. After a slight pause, he takes the pint of Cherry Garcia out of Steve’s hand and sets to making a little sundae for him. Steve can only dumbly watch as Eddie gives him two scoops and presses down on them so they’re a little softer, just how Steve likes it, adding a brusquely effective swirl of whipped cream, cherries on top, before handing it back to him. In Steve’s professional opinion, it’s a Scoops Ahoy-worthy performance. Makes him kind of wish the outfit was involved, mmm.
 “Secondly,” Eddie says, Steve doing a quick mental scramble away from the vision of Eddie in blue striped shorts and back towards whatever the hell they had been talking about, “I’m pretty sure a sexless marriage is out of the question for her, so it would be a swift no.” He’s less formal with his own ice cream prep, simply jamming a spoon into his own tub (Phish Food, which is just so typically him), whipped cream and cherries apparently forgotten.
 “She deserves better than that,” Steve says now, years later, chasing a stray cherry around the side of his bowl with his spoon. “And so do you.”
 Eddie gives Steve a look, a little bit of humor and a little bit of apprehension and a bit of evaluation. And something so unsurprised, too, a kind of fond      Jesus H Christ, of course smile manifesting just through the shadow of a dimple, not quite making itself entirely seen.
 “I know,” Eddie says simply. The quiet confidence of a man who does know what he deserves, does know that he can and should be desired. Treasured. And get what he wants. And who is, maybe, a little surprised that Steve knows that too.
 Steve pops the maraschino cherry between his teeth, flavor exploding at the back of his tongue, just this shy of too syrupy-sweet, as he looks at Eddie’s face. He can feel it coming in, then. The way he’s heard that the water pulls all the way back far as the eye can see, before a tsunami comes rushing back in. Has a sense of what’s heading his way, in the time that it takes for Eddie to shake his head ruefully and continue, taking his eyes off Steve’s face in an uncharacteristically indirect move. One of only a handful of times Steve can think of, when Eddie hasn’t looked frank and fearless into Steve’s eyes.
 “You do too,” Eddie says to his bowl with quiet ferocity, and follows it with a spoonful of ice cream so quickly that it’s like he’s trying to stuff the words back in. Cover up the evidence with Ben&Jerry’s finest.
I love him, Steve thinks, the hundred-foot high wave coming in. Less devastating of a natural disaster, but sure as shit knocking him off his feet and sending him spinning. Hey, Eddie. I love you.  
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hollowed-theory-hall · 11 months ago
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Secrets of the Darkest Art: How to Make a Horcrux
So I saw many theories regarding how to make a Horcrux, but none of them really made perfect sense to me, so I decided to give it a crack myself as part of my mission to understand Lord Voldemort/Tom Marvolo Riddle (Which I think I did, big post coming about that at some point, this is but another piece of that puzzle of a man)
So this is my reverse engineering of a ritual to create Horcruxes based on book evidence, my knowledge of real-world alchemy, real-world ancient Greek cults and rituals and linguistic analysis.
How to reverse engineering a dark magical ritual:
The first thing is to define what we know for certain:
The name: "Horcrux"
The creator is an Ancient Greek wizard named Harpo the Foul.
A death is required in the making.
A Horcrux holds a piece of the caster's soul that anchors them to life so they won't die.
I'll actually start with the third point.
How to split a soul?
Both Dumbledore and Slughorn mention murder being required to tear your soul to make a Horcrux, and that never really sat right with me. It magically doesn't make sense and even the canon examples we have for Horcrux murders make this statement iffy.
We have seven examples of murders used to create Horcruxs (thanks to one Tom Riddle being dramatic):
The Diary - Myrtle Warren - killed by a basilisk. Sure, Tom freed the Basilisk, but it hardly seemed targeted at Myrtle specifically and you can argue he didn't actually kill her (more a manslaughter by negligence). He didn't cast the spell, so how come this tore his soul? (I also think Myrtle was an accident and wasn't meant to be killed, but I digress)
The Ring - his father (Tom Riddle Sr) - Avada Kadevra.
The Cup - Hepzibah Smith - she was poisoned by her house elf. Sure, the elf was under the imperious, but it wasn't a first-degree murder, and like with the Basilisk I find it hard to consider this the same as casting a killing curse. Magically those are very different things.
The Locket - Muggle Tramp - Avada Kadevra
The Diadem - Albanian Peasant - Avada Kadevra
Harry Potter - himself - backfired Avada Kadevra
Nagini - Bertha Jorkins - Avada Kadevra
Now, I used the term "magically different" or "magically make sense" what do I mean by that?
Well, besides the fact I'm going to make a full post about how I see magical theory in the Harry Potter Wizarding World, I'll say it takes a lot after occult philosophies from Alchemy that are very old, Slughorn mentions as much in book 6 and there are a few other references to it. I'm just gonna cover the basics required for this theory.
In Alchemy, everything (people, animals, plants, and rocks) is built of three base components:
The Salt - the body - the physical form.
The Sulfur - the soul - the self that holds the divine flame.
The Mercury - the spirit - the life essence that binds the salt and sulfur together.
Now, in Alchemy, the main study is in purifying and combining these different aspects of material. Let's look at a herb, for an example:
If we want to retrieve its salt, we'll dry the herb completely using fire to leave behind a fine light grey ash that represents only the physical form.
If we wanted its mercury we'd distill all liquids from it until we get a purified, clear liquid which in the case of plants would be alcohol (it's why alcohol is referred to as "spirit").
And if we wanted its soul, we would take the remains from the distillation and drying process which would be a kind of oil.
(it can get more complicated with different materials, but this isn't a post about Alchemy)
Now, back to Horcruxs.
So, if we would want to split a soul, Alchemecly, how do we go about it?
Well, we don't. Not really. See a soul can't really be split, as every part of it, every bit of that oil from our random herb represents the entire soul. It's why something like a Horcrux could theoretically work in giving a full life to the diary the way we see in Chamber of Secrets.
Additionally, to work with any material in Alchemy, you are required to purify it first. It means that to get a piece of soul to bind to a diary, you need a pure soul.
Killing someone else won't sever your own soul from the spirit and the body, it's not how this works. Killing someone severs their spirit and therefore splits their body, spirit, and soul. Besides, an Ancient Greek man, like Herpo was, would hardly consider murder as vile as we do today. It wouldn't even cross his mind that any murder (even an indirect one) could harm one's own soul.
No, the only way to "split" a soul is to first sever it from life, disconnecting the bond between soul and body. Essentially, the only way to promise you immortality is to kill yourself.
I know it sounds a little confusing, but, essentially, once the soul is severed from the spirit and body you can split it. Think of the herbal oil, once you have the oil, separate from the rest of the plant parts, you can combine it with new ingredients. You can only work on a specific aspect once you severed it from the other two and as what binds all three together is spirit — life — the only way to do it for a human soul — is death.
But really, how?
Well, here comes the second thing we know about making Horcruxs — that dear Herpo was from Ancient Greece.
In Ancient Greece they had multiple different religious cults, some of which were Chthonic cults. These cults dedicated themselves to death or ditties and heroes associated with death and more importantly — rebirth.
Many of these cults were dedicated to figures like Orpheus, Dionysus, and Persephone, characters in mythology who are known for going through the underworld — through death — and coming back out. These cults were very secretive and not much is known about their practices, but some are.
What is known is that they had rituals where they reenacted a death and then rebirth (usually drinking wine — water of life, was the representation of rebirth).
This created a very clear idea in my head — to split a soul, you'll have to ritualistically, magically kill yourself, severe a piece of your soul, and then revive yourself with a water of life — a potion.
This potion is never mentioned, but I believe it exists due to these Chthonic cult rituals and how they were structured. Not only that, but the Greek underworld did have a river known for being incredibly painful to drink, literally made of fire, but being able to bring the dead back - The Phlegethon River.
Note: Lethe River Water (the river in the Greek Underworld that makes the drinker forget) is a canon ingredient in a Forgetfulness Potion.
So what is the dead body for?
Well, congratulations, you killed yourself to retrieve a sliver of your soul and revived yourself so you won't stay dead. You found an item you can keep secure to tie that sliver of soul, too. Now, how would you bind then? After all, the only thing meant to bind a human soul to a body is a human spirit - a human life... you get where I'm going with this.
This is why Tom didn't have to be the one to do the deed. As long as he had a recently deceased corpse to harvest the life from to use to bind his newly split soul and the item of his choice.
It explains why nothing was missing from the bodies. Myrtle and the Riddles were investigated by the Ministry of Magic. One would assume the Aurors would've noticed if any corpse was missing a hand due to the killer eating it (as other Horcrux theories suggest).
Not only was nothing missing from the body, the soul was intact. Myrtle became a ghost after death, a ghost is quite literally, just the soul, no body, no spirit.
So the only thing that was taken from Tom's victims was their life, quite literally at that.
Is that all? Can we make a Horcrux now?
Not really. See, when analyzing spells in Harry Potter, one thing super important to note is their name.
Avada Kadevra - is a reference to an Aramaic healing spell "Abracadabra" pronounced in Aramaic as: "Avra Kadebra" and meaning "I will create as commanded". Merged with the Latin word "cadaver" meaning "corpse" to create -> "I will create dead bodies as commanded"
Or Wingardium Laviosa - is a cross of the English word "wing", the Latin word "arduus" (meaning "high, tall, lofty, steep, proudly elevated"), or "arduum" (meaning "steep place, the steep" and the Latin word "levo" (meaning to "raise, lift up"). So together the spell means -> "lift high up".
So, it's pretty clear spells, their names, and incantations are very self-explanatory. So a Horcrux should be no different.
I've seen some attempts at translating the name Horcrux. Unfortunately, these attempts treated the name as Latin, modern Greek, or Old English. Herpo, was Ancient Greek, though, so I went and translated a few possible meanings from Ancient Greek (Classical Greek and Homeric Greek are what I looked at):
ὅρκος (orkus, pronounced "hor-kus") - an oath, the object by which one swears, bound by oath (still used in modern Greek).
κρόκες (crukes, pronounced "cru-kes") - saffron-colored (blood red in Greek), crocus flower. The crocus flower symbolizes both death (the saffron that is the spice) and rebirth (the golden crocus which brings renewal and joy) because Demeter wears them when Persephone returns from the underworld in myth.
So what we have is a spell called "binding oath of death and rebirth" which all around sounds fitting.
There might also be a "made in blood" tucked at the end due to the association of κρόκες with the color of blood.
But why does it matter?
Well, now with this name, I expect the binding between the spirit from the victim, the split soul, and the item would be done in a sort of oath - an orkus.
The association with blood gives us another hint. Blood is the part of the human body most representative of life. Therefore, in Alchemy, your blood is your spirit. So it'll make sense that your own blood would be used in the binding process or more correctly in the process of turning another person's spirit into your own. Making the thread to bind the body (item) and the soul piece your own. As it also refers to just a red firey color, it can indicate the Phlagatton potion I hypothesize should be part of the ritual due to how Chthonic rituals usually went, as the Phlagaton river is made of fire.
So we have a general idea of how to make a Horcrux. You need an item of your choice to bind your soul to. You need a life (spirit) harvested from a human that you transformed into being your own using your blood. And you need a piece of your own soul, which you get by killing yourself and then reviving yourself. And you finish it off by binding it all together with an oath.
But how could you make one accidentally?
So, everyone knows Voldemort succeeded in somehow making a Horcrux accidentally, something a lot of theories I saw don't account for. Becouse whatever process you need to go to to make a Horcrux, Voldemort went through all of it the night he died the first time and marked Harry.
All the steps for my method of making a Horcrux were met that night.
The item in qustion is baby Harry, nothing interesting there.
The soul sliver was split the way it always is — through death. Voldemort died, killed by his own killing curse and that is what splits his soul.
The life or spirit that then binds his soul to Harry isn't Lily's spirit or James'; it's his own spirit that acts as a binder between Harry and Voldemort’s split soul. Because the spirit was already his, there was no need to transform it by blood so the additional ritual wasn't necessary.
Step-by-step guide to making Horcruxes:
I'm not going to actually give the full step-by-step least a budging dark lord is looking for this information. I do have notes about exact incantations and even the full recipe and instructions for the Phlagaton potion I'm going to mention. These instructions won't be here since they are more in the realm of speculation and headcanon. This is just the overview of the ritual based on canon information and the occult philosophy I mentioned above. (edit: the full step-by-step headcanon with my potion recipe and everything does appear in the reblogs)
Step 1 - Life and Blood
Get access to a recently deceased human and extract their Mercury (Spirit or Life Essence).
Submerge the retrieved life essence with your own blood on a new moon (life and vitality). (7 drops of blood will probably do)
Step 2 - Water of Fire
To complete the cycle of death and rebirth you’ll need the Phlegeton Water potion to return you to life at the end of the cycle.
As you brew the potion, it must be brewed in a dark room, preferably underground to remind as much of the underworld as possible.
While brewing the potion one must be in the mindset of the Phlegeton, must be willing to go through agony to achieve eternal life and imbue these thoughts in their potion. (In alchemy, when working, it is believed you imbue your work with your thoughts during the Alchemical process. As an Alchemical process affects both the material being worked and the Alchemist themselves)
Likley Ingrediants:
Saffron spice
Golden crocus flower juice
Pomegranate juice
Step 3 - The Ritual Preparation
Set up your space so none of the components may escape the ritual space and so the ritual will not be interfered with.
Make sure the spirit you retrieved is within reach.
Make sure the item you desire will hold the Horcrux will be within reach as well.
Coax the spirit into the item and prepare it to tie your soul to the next step.
Step 4 - Death and Rebirth
To create a thread of your soul to tie to the ritual, you must die figuratively. Go through death to return stronger from the underworld.
Once you feel like death has reached you and your soul is separated you should heal your soul and finish the cycle, bringing you out of death and back to life by drinking the Phlegeton potion.
After the pain subsides you will feel healthier than before, stronger than before, and you’ll have an additional thread of sulfur (soul) in your chest to be pulled out and placed into the Horcrux.
The split-off soul should, on its own, try to search for life and a body to be bound to. If it doesn't, coax it out yourself and bind it to the Horcrux with the spirit you made in step 1.
Step 5 - Oath of Life
The connection between the body (the item), soul, and spirit is still unstable, if most likely strong enough to hold.
Swear the oath of life to finalize the bond between you, the Horcrux, and the soul thread together to ward off death.
I'll end with this note I made regarding Horcruxes when I started working on this theory:
I don't know what all goes into the process of making a Horcrux but I don't believe a person who truly likes themselves and doesn't want to inflict pain on themselves could make a Horcrux. Tearing up your soul is an act of arrogance above nature, sure, thinking you deserve to change the laws of the world and be the exception is part of it, but it's also an act of self-hatred. You need to hate yourself enough to be willing to kill yourself, hurt yourself, and tear yourself up in the most unnatural ways — hence why so few can do so, let alone more than once.
And Tom Riddle does seem to have that exact mix of arrogance, spite, and low self-esteem that would allow it.
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enden-k · 3 months ago
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Ooh your ocs and lore/worldbuilding are so interesting! The whole ghost possesion thing is quite interesting cause the fact that ppl know about this gives the implication that this is just something that happens sometimes (?) and that supernatural stuff is widely known. Like oooh that is such an interesting world, like how do ppl deal with that? Are there doctors that deal with ghost possesions? lol
Anyway got kinda sidetracked but the original reason i sent this ask was cause i noticed Vikas eye color changed and wondered if Saran actually took one lol. Or is it something to do with the contract they have? No worries if you dont wanna spoil the lore haha i was just curious!
Your art is amazing as always and i love love the way you drew Sarans eyes they look like mouths?? Fangs?? Either way really cool and was the first thing i thought of when i saw the whole «devour you» bit
thank you sm!!!! aaaaa
yea its bc it is! the story is set in a world haunted by so called "fears" - negative energies manifested, ranging from nightmares to evil ghosts and spirits and fears and phobias manifested. shortly after the outbreak of this paranormal parasite (which claimed thousands of ppl), ppl banded together to fight back against "fears" and at some point an organization ("amygdala") was born that focuses solely on the exorcism or annihilation of the fears. those ppl dealing with them are called fear seekers or just seekers; seeking those who hide in the dark to strike
they use a specific "tool" that makes it possible for them to see the unseen and summon a fear they contract themselves to - these tools are lit the plucked out eye of the fear (using it comes with either handy or negative side effects, i can explain that all in another post maybe?)
anyway yep! its eventually brought up but its not like its a huge reveal since its evident. saran actually took vikas eye but gave one of his instead, making it possible for vika to use sarans powers but also to give him the ability to "see (experience) others emotions" as if its his own via eye contact. like this he also learns to identify his own and express himself better
also glad you noticed!!!! they are! sarans pupils are basically "soul snatching" mouths; looking into his eyes gets your life drained so he always has them closed - his others are constantly open tho. hes always watching. hes always seeing everything
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jazzthatonewriterchick · 5 months ago
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You Should Come Thru (Hawks x Self-Insert!Reader 18+ One Shot) [COMMISSION FILL]
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Fan Art by @almaadst ❤️❤️
Pairing: Keigo "Hawks" Takami x Black!Self-Insert!Reader
Synopsis: After a month of hard work, no play, and a bad date, Hawks invites you over to his apartment for some tea to relax and finally get some time with his bestie, but as the night grows long, you suddenly lose your filter and begin telling him things that he shouldn’t know. All because of his very special tea. 
Tags: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Friends to Lovers; Hurt/Comfort; Marijuana Consumption; Stripping; Mutual Oral; Mutual Masturbation; Body Worship; Voyeurism; High Sex; Dubcon (only because of the weed but there is verbal consent given); Facesitting; Riding; Mild Choking; Mirror Sex; Dom!Hawks/sub!Reader; Mild Namecalling; Wing Stroking; Unprotected Sex; Creampie; Aftercare 
Writer's Note: Thank you again to @curiouscutie143 for trusting me with your fantasies & ideas enough to bring them to life! -Jazz
**********
When you knock on his door that late night, Keigo already knows you are standing behind it. 
He smiles at seeing your face in the peephole and opens the door without a greeting. Seeing you there still in your work dress, shoes, and pantyhose from before, he leans against the door frame and smirks at you despite your tired expression. “Well, what a surprise,” he says, sarcasm evident. “I don’t suppose you’re selling something?” 
You hold your tote bag and a box from the restaurant you went to tonight in your hands. “If you think it’s a free dessert that the waitress gave me ‘cause she felt so bad for me, then yes, I do,” you glumly reply. “Can I come in?” 
Keigo’s smile grows as he runs a hand through his short-cropped, blonde hair. “Shit, you kiddin’ me?” he chuckles. “Nothing’s better than pity dessert. Come right in.” 
He opens the door wider, allowing you to walk inside the gorgeous, empty penthouse. Judging by Keigo’s attire of sweats, a white tee, and some slides, he was busy cleaning up for your arrival. The counters are clean, the pillows are fluffed and organized on the couch, and the TV is playing the newest episode of “Dinner In Dungeon” on Netflix. 
“Take off your shoes,” he says, shutting the door behind you. “You look like you need to.” 
You immediately do so, sitting down on the expensive couch in front of the TV to kick off the flats that you’ve been wearing all day at work. Keigo comes over to take the box of dessert from your dinner date, giving you a soothing smile as he does. 
“Thank you again for letting me come over, Kei,” you sigh, relieved to have your feet released from the traps of your shoes. “I’m sorry it’s so late.” He pulls a sour face at you. “Don’t apologize,” he says. “My crib, your crib. Besides, I invited you over here after work to chill, remember?” 
He turns to walk into his pristine, thousand-dollar kitchen with its granite counters, silver steel appliances, wine cooler, and personal mini-bar that has long since been used less since he eased up on his drinking. After Keigo got his burn scars from his fight with Dabi that almost claimed his life, he turned into a whole different person…for the better. 
He cropped his hair down to snip off the burned ends from the fire, bulked up a bit more so his muscles are more defined, and he stays out of the limelight more than he used to. Less clubs, fewer groupies, and less expensive shopping sprees. The burn scars on his cheek, neck, and back are testaments of the changes he’s gone through.
But he’s still the same man you’ve been friends with for years now. You first met him three years ago when he opened his account with your bank with you as his teller. Years later, you’re still his teller and your friendship is stronger than ever. You’d never do anything to change that…even though deep down, you secretly want to. 
“Well, that was to relax because you think I’m killing myself with work; not to trauma dump about my string of bad dates.” You kick your feet up on the couch, wriggling your painted toes. 
Keigo pauses in the kitchen and walks back over to the doorway, leaning his hip against it. His shirt rises up a bit to show off one of his burn scars and his toned lower stomach where you see a patch of blonde hair. You look away. “Oh,” he realizes. “Tonight wasn’t the one, huh?” 
You look back up at him, feeling your stress and the tension inside of you since your Uber ride here from your date melt away at the sight of his soft, almost somber expression. 
“Definitely not.” 
He comes over to you, holding your dessert on a plate with two forks for you both. Your waitress took it upon herself to personally give you a free chocolate mousse cake topped with whipped cream and peaches. She probably saw how unhappy you were on your Bumble date and did it as a way to make sure you didn’t stab yourself with a fork. 
“Well, you know what eases stress from work and makes you feel better after bad dates?” Keigo smirks down at you, his golden eyes tinkling. “Ugh, no weed, please,” you say in disgust. “And no alcohol. I had two glasses of wine at dinner.” Hawks shoots you a look. “Don’t worry, I took an Uber here.” 
“No, tea,” he finally answers, laughing lightly. “Not alcohol and of course not weed! I know you don’t smoke, silly girl…unless you do now.” He smirks at you. “Is work kicking your ass that bad?” 
You roll your eyes, taking a fork to get a piece of your dessert. “Like you wouldn’t believe,” you sigh. “Ever since I took that promotion, it’s like they’re running me ragged over there. The only good thing is that this pay leaves me with extra money after the bills and rent are paid.” 
You’ve had your job as a bank teller for over six years now and you take it very seriously…however, when you clock out, you don’t take calls or texts from work. Your time out of work is your own which you usually spend sleeping. Ever since you received your promotion several months ago because of your great work ethic, you haven’t spent much time doing much except working and sleeping. Which means your time with Keigo has taken the back burner. 
“Well, tell me all about it while I getcha a cup,” he says, taking a forkful of the cake before walking into the kitchen. “Take the load off and relax.” You hear him putz around in the kitchen, clinging this and clanking that, while you eat your dessert. It is rich and sweet with the peaches adding the right amount of juiciness and syrupy sweetness. 
“Don’t get me wrong, the job has great benefits, but…sometimes, I feel like I’m gonna disappear. I barely have time to hang out with you now.” You frown, thinking off all of those video game nights and days on the town that have vanished because of your exhaustion. When you come home from work, you immediately hit the hay like you haven’t slept in decades. 
And on the weekend, a time that is meant for freedom, you’re spending it in your apartment getting ready for work again! It’s exhausting! 
“Oh, I know,” Keigo calls. “That’s why I invited you over. What kind of tea ya want?” You lay back against the pillows, putting your hands on your plump stomach. “What do you got?” 
“Uhhh, Merlo, orange blossom, camomile, lemon mint, lavender—“ 
“Lemon mint, please,” you decide. “With honey and sugar.” Keigo’s fluttery laughter exits the kitchen as he fills a kettle of water and puts it on the stove. “V, we’ve been friends for years. I know how you take your tea after making it for you for so long. Keep talking.” 
You smile, glad to have someone who knows you so well. You groan, your feet flopping against the couch tiresomely. “I'm just so tired all of the time now. I don’t even look forward to my days off because all I do is sleep!” 
After a few minutes of the tea kettle whistling and more putting around in the kitchen, Keigo exits the kitchen with a tray of two tea cups, organized tea bags, and the cutest little pots of sugar and lemon slices you’ve ever seen. He sits down beside you on the couch and fixes you a cup. ”I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you,” you sigh apologetically. “Even with your hero work, you still make time for me.” 
His golden eyes cut over to you, serious yet soft. “Hey,” he firmly says. “Stop. Life is hard. Adulting sucks. We’re still friends regardless of work and responsibilities. Now drink.” 
He hands you a cup of your tea, the scent of lemon mingled with mint filling your nostrils. You hold the warm cup against your nose and breathe in the steam before taking a much-needed sip. You’re immediately filled with warmth. “Ah,” you sigh. “That’s nice.” 
Keigo leans back against the couch with you, spreading his legs as he sips his tea and visibly relaxes into the couch. You keep your eyes straight ahead, not wanting to stare dead at his thighs or his groin though it’s right in earshot. “See? Works like magic…though weed works too.” He breathes in his lavender tea and takes a sip, his eyes fluttering shut. You like seeing him relaxed like this. He looks way more handsome to you in this state.
You don’t quite know when you started thinking this way about your friend. You just know that these thoughts have yet to go away. But you won’t dare acknowledge them or tell him anything. Keigo is your bestie and that is how he’ll stay. You two have been through way too much as friends and have too much of a great relationship for you to ruin it with emotions you can’t decipher or make sense of. 
He turns to you now, pulling your feet into his lap. “So tell me about this date you had tonight. Didn’t you say it was with some guy you met on Bumble?” 
You nod, sipping your tea. “Yeah, we’d been talking for about two weeks and decided to meet for dinner. Really, I just agreed because he was paying and I thought it’d be a good distraction from work, but…” 
You pause, not really wanting to delve into tonight’s story about your horrible date. You started dating again five months ago, going through dating apps like Bumble, Tinder, and Hinge. You figured trying to find a nice, loving relationship wouldn’t hurt, but so far, your efforts have been futile. If you haven’t found hookups, you’ve found a slew of bad dates with mansplainers, closet incels, and the scummiest losers on these apps. The most recent one takes the cake. 
Keigo raises an eyebrow at you. “But?” he encourages. “Damn, was he that bad?” He laughs a bit, though he tries to stifle it as much as he can. 
You sigh, picturing your date tonight. He was a beautiful man on the outside—Colgate smile, curly hair, nice body—, but on the inside, you felt like you’d need all kinds of cleaning products to clean up his nasty personality. “Well, let’s just say I won't be calling him again.” 
Keigo laughs at this and you shove him in the arm. “At dinner, all he talked about was himself, he kept sneakily checking out other girls even though I saw, and then he acted like I had to give him “some” just because he paid even though he said he would! I even suggested we split!” 
The pro grows increasingly interested in hearing about this, especially hearing that your date was clearly a whore. “Well, what did he say?” he asks. You stare at the TV, not really watching the show. “He just kept trying to get me to go home with him, telling me he had good beer back at his place. When I said no, he looked fed up.” 
You take a sip of your tea, becoming more open with every sip. “Like, I should’ve been the one who was fed up,” you scoff. “I had to force him to ask questions about me at dinner because he kept droning on about the fact that he’s a licensed plumber and how he usually meets girls below his caliber.” 
You roll your eyes, something you’ve been doing all night. You’re shocked they haven’t rolled into the back of your head or fallen out yet. Keigo makes a noise between a disproving grunt and a lamented groan. “Oh, he was that type of guy.” He takes a forkful of the cake. 
You do the same, your hands brushing against one another as you reach for your fork. You ignore the slight spark you feel when you touch him. “Yeah,” you sigh. “But the thing is I don’t even think he liked that I have a job where I have a higher salary than he does. He was so weird about it.” 
You take another sip of the tea and pause, realizing that you’re not as angry or as disappointed as before. You feel so relaxed and at ease, your body melting into the sofa. It’s like you’re at a spa, listening to soothing music while you get your feet rubbed. “God, I’m so relaxed. That’s a first in I don’t know how long.” 
Keigo smiles, happy to hear this. “Well, that’s a good thing. Now….” He lowers his cup down and places a hand on your ankle. “Tell me more.” And so you do. You tell him about your bad date, your fears about being alone, your mother constantly getting on you about being single and giving her some grandbabies soon, etc. 
With every sip of your magical tea, you become more open and honest with your friend, running off with the mouth about your life. Keigo listens intently, running his hands over your aching feet and flicking the TV channel every so often. He never once speaks or interrupts. He only listens, which is exactly what you need. 
Finally, once the tea is almost gone, you sit back against the couch and hug a pillow to your chest. “I don’t think he’s ever gonna call again,” you continue, referring to your Bumble date. “And I don’t care! I’m so tired of meeting the same jerks who only wanna brag about themselves to anyone who will listen and only look at women as sex toys.” 
Keigo pushes the plate of empty cake aside, pouring you more tea in the process. “Not to sound like your dad or anything, but why do you even wanna try if the dating pool is so shitty?” 
You take a moment to think about it, mostly because your mind is moving so slowly. It’s like everything is moving in slow motion. Maybe going on your date after work wasn’t a good idea. “I just figured it wouldn’t hurt to try to find somebody good.” Keigo raises an eyebrow at you. “Somebody good?” he asks. “What does a “good” partner look like to you, V?” 
You are stunned by the question and suddenly at a loss of words. You’re not sure why. You’ve had these types of conversations with Keigo all the time! But suddenly, you feel nervous and like the walls around you are closing in. 
“Like…I dunno….someone who listens and is interested in me. Someone who’s understanding, caring, kind…someone who doesn’t always think about themselves. Someone who I can count on for anything.” 
Keigo doesn’t say anything. He just fixes you with an unreadable yet almost personal expression. “Don’t get it twisted though: I love my life as it is!” you quickly add. “I’ve got a great job, a crib, a car, friends, family...I don’t want you to think I’m desperate for a man to make me feel complete.” 
The blonde sips on his tea, looking confused at your sudden interest in proving to him that you’re not desperate for a man. “I didn’t say that.” 
But you continue on: “It would just be nice, y’know, to have a loving relationship. Sometimes I get lonely and I think that I’ll die alone with my cat.” You play with your fingers, looking at anything but him. You don’t want to see the pity in his eyes. 
“I know that it’s just me being stupid and overthinking shit, but it’d be nice to have someone I click with, like we do,” you confess. “I’d like a partner like…you.” 
That’s who you want in a partner. Someone who thinks of you like they think of themselves. Someone who is there for you to lend an ear, a shoulder to cry on, or a smile that gives you butterflies. Someone who you look forward to seeing and makes you happy when you think about them. Someone like your good friend, Keigo. 
Shyly, you look at him and you can see the stun in his eyes at your confession. Realizing how this sounds, your body and face flame up. “No, no, not like that!” You protest, flustered. “I-I just mean I’d want a guy like you as a partner. Y’know, someone who makes me feel safe and secure. Beautiful, even.” 
The silence that swells around you is intense and uncomfortable. You should’ve just kept your mouth shut. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this,” you awkwardly chuckle. “There must be truth serum in this tea or somethin’.” You lower your cup down on the coffee table, pushing it away as if it’s poison. 
“Actually, no,” Keigo says. “It’s weed.” 
You pause, letting the wheels turn in your head as you process what he just said. “....What?” you finally ask. “You’re joking.” You even giggle to yourself, but he doesn’t. You can tell from the look he’s giving you. “You’re serious,” you realize. 
He sips on his tea, somehow proving it to you by doing so. “Deadass,” he replies. 
“Hawks, what the fuck?!” You shout, sitting up from the couch. “Why would you do that?! You know I don’t smoke!” Keigo clicks his tongue against his teeth. “Oh, relaaaax,” he draws. “I didn’t put that much in it. Just enough to relax you. If I would’ve asked, you would’ve said no.” 
“Of course, I wouldn’t say no!” you protest, jumping up from the couch. “Because I don’t do drugs!” 
“Well, neither do I!” he retorts, standing up with you. “I’m not a pill popper or nothing, V. It’s just weed. All it does is soothe your nerves, gives you the munchies, and makes you sleep. Speakin’ of munchies, I’ve got some fried chicken takeout left in the fridge.” 
“And it also makes your anxiety skyrocket,” you angrily argue. “That explains why I’m runnin’ off with the mouth and sayin’ shit that I shouldn’t be saying!” 
You place a hand on your head, feeling it thump like a heartbeat. Speaking of heartbeat, you become hyper-aware of how much it has increased in the last few minutes and now, you can’t stop focusing on it. “God,” you exhale. You close your eyes, trying to slow your breathing and your racing mind. 
Keigo immediately turns around and rushes to you, laying a hand on your back. “You okay?” he asks, worried. Once he realizes what’s happening, he immediately springs into action and takes your hand. Slowly, he leads you back over to the couch and sits you down. 
“Stay there,” he says and as fast as lightning, he zooms back to the kitchen to get you some water and flaps back over on his big, red, fluffy wings like an angel. “Sip this,” he says, handing you the glass. “Just relax, honey. You’re okay. It’s just the weed talkin’.” 
He gently touches your knee and rubs it as you drink the ice water, taking slow sips. You try to ignore how hot you feel with him touching you, but it’s impossible to ignore. It’s been a long time since a touch has made you feel like this. His voice too—so soft and silky. “I promise I didn’t put that much in there,” he says, sounding guilty. “But maybe I shouldn’t have put any in at all. I’m sorry, V. I just didn’t like seein’ you so tired.” 
His hand gently grasps your knee and you shudder like he’s touching bare skin. “I had hoped this would relax you. You walk around like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders, y’know? The bad dates don’t make it better.” 
He looks at you then. Really looks at you, like he sees all of you—the woman you are, the woman he sees, and the woman you want to be. All in those golden irises like sunken treasure. “You deserve to be happy,” he softly says. “And you deserve to have a partner who will make your happiness and well-being their top priority. I hope whoever it is knows how amazing of a person they’ve got.” 
And in his eyes and his handsome face, you see it. He’s telling the truth. Suddenly, you feel warm and those butterflies start flapping away in the pit of your stomach. Looking at him, you think to yourself that all that you want in a partner…could it be that maybe, just maybe, who you want is…him? 
Suddenly, your hand moves on its own and cups Keigo’s face. He flinches slightly, stunned by the sudden movement, but he doesn’t push you away. “V?” he whispers, furrowing his brows at you. 
Wordlessly, you lean in slowly, assessing his face and giving him time to pull away. He doesn’t. It’s like you’re watching yourself from the outside, but you can’t stop yourself from pressing your lips to his. The kiss is tentative and short, but it absolutely sets your entire body ablaze. His lips are soft and taste faintly of lavender from the tea. His cologne engulfs your nostrils, making your hormones run wild. 
It’s the best kiss you’ve ever had in your life…and it just so happens that it’s with your best friend. 
You pull away, both of you silently staring at one another, shocked by how great of a kiss that was and what the fuck just happened. Keigo doesn’t freak out or even remotely act like he didn’t enjoy it. He only whispers, “V”, his voice barely above a whisper. But it’s enough to send your mind careening back down to Earth. “I’m so sorry,” you say, your voice small. “I didn’t…I-I don’t know why I—“ 
But Keigo stops you by turning your face towards his again and kissing you once more. This one is longer and slower. He takes his sweet time getting to know your lips and introducing you to his, his hand gently cupping your cheek, his thumb stroking your jaw. It feels good. 
So good, in fact, that you find your hands moving to his shoulders, your fingers feeling up his toned arms and biceps. It feels good. He feels so good. You can’t believe how right it feels to be kissing and touching him. Slowly, he pulls away, his breathing ragged. “We should probably talk about this.” 
But you pull him back in for more kisses, these ones eager and heated. “We can talk later,” you whisper. “Just keep kissing me.” He listens to you, a soft moan leaving his lips as your tongue caresses his bottom lip. He parts his lips, granting you access, and your tongues begin to swirl amongst each other as your hands wander. You feel the, on your waist, your back, your ass, squeezing and kneading. 
At some point, Keigo walks you back to the couch and sits down first, pulling you on top of him. A soft, surprised moan escapes you as his hands grip your ass, keeping you locked in his lap. You straddle him and his groin, encasing him in the heat between your luscious, jiggly thighs. You keep kissing, your hands sliding down his chest, indulging in his muscles, and wanting so much to feel his bare skin. 
He pulls away with a soft pop as your lips disconnect, his gaze hooded and dazed as he stares up at you. “You feel so good here,” he sighs. “You’re so soft.” He pushes himself against you as he begins to pepper your neck with soft kisses. You moan, tossing your head back, letting him litter your throat in slow, wet smooches. Unconsciously, your body responds by grinding against him, causing something very hard to grow between your thighs. 
You gasp, looking down at his bulge. You got your best friend hard! He gives you a sheepish look with an endearingly awkward smile. “Sorry. You’ve got me excited.” A fire ignites inside of you, desperate to be freed. It might be the weed, but you feel just as excited and aroused as he is. “That’s the idea,” you giggle. You lean in to kiss him, nibbling on his bottom lip. “Bedroom. Please.” 
Keigo’s eyes flash with worry, your plea awakening something in him. “Are you sure you want this?” he whispers. “We can stop here if you want to—“ 
“No,” you exhale, shaking your head. “I don’t wanna stop. I want this.” To prove your point, you take his hand and slide it between your thighs for him to feel your second heartbeat. Your pussy is throbbing and sobbing for him, quickly becoming more insistent on being touched. Keigo’s mouth parts, a shuddering breath leaving his lips. 
You watch his wings shudder and ruffle as if you’ve touched them. He’s told you before that his feathers are sensitive. You make a mental note to experiment with them later as he cups his hands under your ass. “Hang onto me then,” he orders. “Don’t look down, okay, darlin’?” 
The pet name makes you feel hot all over and you nod, holding onto him tight. You lock your arms and legs around him as he stands up with you in his arms and gently flutters his wings. Though you gasp as you’re suddenly levitating off of the ground, you close your eyes and hug him close as he flies up the stairs to his bedroom. He chuckles at your reaction having not taken you flying before. He’ll have to do that later. 
Once you get to his bedroom, he gently puts you down on your feet and shuts the door. You look around the spacious room, noticing the sweet smell of roses and the cleanliness of it. The balcony on the left side of the room next to the bed is cracked, bringing in a soft summer breeze. “I can’t believe I’ve never seen your bedroom before.” You turn to him, noticing him sizing you up in a way that excites you. “You never had to.” 
You turn back to the king-sized bed, big enough for at least four people with a soft-looking red comforter, pillows, and… “Is that…a mirror?!” you gasp, looking up at the ceiling. There, in the square-shaped mirror hovering above the bed, you see yourself staring back. 
Keigo comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Yeah, I know; I’m a freak. Is this okay with you?” His concern for your comfort turns you on even more. You’ve never seen yourself have sex before, but the idea of looking up into the mirror and watching yourself take dick and tongue while seeing Keigo’s handsome face contort in pleasure makes your pussy spill all in your panties. 
You turn around in his arms and nod, too aroused to speak. He lazily smirks at you, his eyes hooded from arousal and the weed. “Then help me out of these clothes, will ya?” He groans, pulling on his pants. “I can’t take much more of this waiting game, babe.” 
You can’t either. You’re dying to see what he looks like without clothes. “You get naked first,” you suggest, a purr in your voice. He fulfills your wish and works his pants off while you peel off his shirt. At one point, Keigo almost falls trying to get his pants off, making you both giggle hysterically. 
Keigo gets very giggly and goofy when he’s high, something you know from many calls where he’s been high as a kite and you’re trying to sleep. Apparently, you get giggly too, unable to stop laughing. The clothes continue to come off until he’s just in his undies, exposing all kinds of savory, tanned muscle that you can’t help but touch, stroke, kiss, and lick. Keigo moans and tangles a hand in your hair as you do as you please, whispering, “Fuck, baby” and arousing “Mmm-hmms” as you do. 
When you pull away, you ogle at his burn scars for a moment, trailing your fingers over the rough patches of skin. You feel Keigo tense as you do and look up into his eyes, seeing insecurity. Quickly, you soften this by cupping his face in your hands. “I like you like this,” you whisper. “Gives you character.” 
Keigo cracks a smile and laughs, the sight adorable to you as your thumbs stroke his cheeks. “Your turn, darlin’.” Slowly, he begins to peel off your dress, slowly kissing you as he does. It’s one of those painfully slow, sloppy kisses with tongue that leave you weak in the knees and craving more of him. 
Once your dress and bra are off, Keigo sits you down on the bed and works on getting your pantyhose down. He watches you watch him pull the nylon stockings down your thighs, exposing your milky, brown skin and luscious thighs that he can’t help but stroke and grip as he leans over to kiss you. 
His lips trail down to your breasts, making you moan as his soft lips touch your hardened nipples. When he latches his mouth around one of them and gently sucks, you gasp and grasp his hair, arching your chest into his mouth. “You’re perfect,” he murmurs. “How the fuck could any man fuck up a date with you?” 
He turns his attention to your other nipple, giving it the same attention he just gave the one now tingling and coated in his spit. He toys with your tits, molding and squeezing them gently in your hands, loving how soft and heavy they are. Loud moans escape you as you tangle your fingers in his blonde locks, your pussy throbbing in your panties. “Keigo,” you mewl. “Baby, touch me.” 
He pulls away from your nipple to speak: I am, darlin’,” he chuckles. “Where else do you want me?” His golden eyes twinkle up at you with lust and mirth. Your fingers slide down to your clothed pussy, silently telling him just where you want him. You guide his hand there, but he stops. Instead, he keeps your hand there, staring at you. “No…show me.” 
You blink at him, confused. Gently, he pushes your legs open more to expose yourself to him. Then he sits up on his knees beside you and, his eyes still locked with yours, takes down his briefs to show you his very hard, very thick, very pretty cock. You gape at it, marveling at the vein trailing from the pink, bulbous head dripping in pre-cum to the base where his heavy balls hang. “Show me how you touch yourself and I’ll show you.” 
It feels like fire has crackled beneath your skin and in your veins as you do what he says. Slowly, still overcome by the weed, you pull your panties aside to reveal your glistening, wet cunt to him. “Shit,” he sighs. “You have such a pretty pussy.” 
You whimper pitifully at his nasty compliment, rubbing your clit in slow circles. You feel deliciously dirty and sexy under his gaze as he watches you, his hand stroking his dick in tandem with your slow pace. You pay attention to how his hand grips the thick base and strokes upward before going down, wanting to do the same. 
The more you stroke your pussy while he strokes his cock, soft moans and hums of pleasure leaving his pillowy-soft lips, the more you want to go further. Sitting here with your legs open and your fingers teasing your wet pussy while he gently pumps his cock in your face is the most erotic thing you’ve ever experienced. You need more of him. 
You tilt your head up and begin giving the head of his cock kitten licks and kisses, earning soft moans in response. Peering up at him under your lashes, you beg him with your eyes to give you what you want. “You want this?” he asks, pressing his cock against your cheek. You nod, parting your lips as he slides his cock over to gently rub it against your mouth. 
You open your mouth wider, allowing him to slide his cock in your mouth. “Fuck,” he groans, his gorgeous eyes rolling in the back of his head as his cock settles against your tongue. He lets you take the reins, only slowly thrusting in time with the slow bops of your head and sucks. You take your time blowing him, wanting to get to know his cock. He is thick and stretches out your throat, causing you to have to breathe through your nostrils and feel an ache in your jaw. 
But it feels so good. You love how he feels in your mouth. You love how he tastes. You love how warm he feels encased in your mouth and throat. You love the amount of spit that collects in your mouth and drips down your chin as you continue to blow him, using your free hand to play with his balls. “God,” he moans, his hand tangling in your hair. “You feel so good, V, what the fuck.” 
He feels good too. Your pussy gets wetter, your juices slipping down to your asscrack, as you continue to rub yourself in time with your slow deep throating. You absolutely love sucking his cock. It doesn’t take long for that knot in your core to begin tightening and you rub a little faster. “Kei,” you exhale around his cock. “I-I’m ‘bout to…I’m gonna—“ 
“No.” Keigo’s golden eyes flash at you, firm. “Stop.” You do as he says, slowing down before coming to a pause. “Sit on my face,” he bluntly says. You blink at him, stunned. “What?” you dumbly ask. 
“You heard me, baby: sit. On my. Face.” His hand slides down to cup yours over your pussy. “I want you to do what I’ve dreamed of you doin’ to me for years and that’s cumming in my mouth.” A cocky smirk pulls at his lips. “Don’t worry. I can handle you. If I die, I die happy.” 
You roll your eyes while he laughs, but you still think it over. 
You’ve never sat on a guy’s face before. It’s the first time you’ll be doing so. What if he’s uncomfortable? What if you can’t breathe and you accidentally smother him? What if you crush his neck with your full weight? Those pesky “what ifs” continue to haunt you, but at the sight of Keigo’s lustful eyes and warm smile, they begin to dissipate. 
So you agree. “Pat my thigh twice if it’s too much,” you say, earning a scoff in return. He then crawls up to the top of the bed, giving you a view of his great ass, and flops onto his back, head against the pillows. His smile widens and he motions you to come hither, his cock standing at attention for you. 
Suddenly feeling shy but not wanting to back out, you slowly crawl over to him and on top of him, your thighs straddling his chest. “Uh…so how do I do this?” you awkwardly ask. He laughs, his chest vibrating beneath you. “Well, first, you’ve gotta get close to my face, baby. Don’t worry; you won’t fall. Just sit on me.” 
Drawn to his smile and encouragement like a moth to a flame, you sit up on your knees and scoot closer until you’re hovering over his handsome face. His eyes peer up at you, coaxing you to come down. Slowly, you do and almost immediately, your jaw drops, and your eyes go wide at the immense pleasure you feel when his tongue hits your clit. 
“Oh, God!” you cry out, grabbing onto the headboard for dear life so you don’t spray all over your best friend’s face. In this position, he can reach everything, from his tongue caressing your clit and the folds of your cunt to his hands gripping and massaging your ass. He’s able to drink right from the source now, so he does so. He slurps and drinks like a thirsty man from your pussy, falling in love with how you taste. 
And you fall in love with his mouth. You can’t help but grind yourself against his nose as he slurps at your pussy, his tongue moving magically between your folds. “Fuck, Hawks, yes!” you sob, tossing your head back. “Fuck, please, keep going! Oh, don’t stop!” 
From between your soft, sweet, thick thighs, you can hear Keigo mumbling about how good you taste and whimpering as he continues to slurp your pussy. You’ve never heard him whimper before. It sounds so pathetic yet so sexy coming from him, the sounds vibrating against your pussy. “Fuck me,” he pleas from underneath you. “Fuck my face, baby.” 
So you do. You can’t help it. His mouth just feels too good! Your hips move on their own, grinding and rolling, causing your pussy to glide along his tongue and your clit to bump against his nose. His face becomes your surfboard and you’re trying desperately to catch that wave of pleasure that will surely cause a wipeout for you. Your moans and cries grow louder, bouncing off the bedroom walls, possibly alerting the neighbors of how good you’re getting fucked. 
Finally, that knot in your core reaches its limit and you feel yourself come undone in Keigo’s mouth. “I’m cumming!” you gasp, using one hand to grip Keigo’s hair. “Fuck, baby, I’m cumming!” Greedily, Keigo takes all that you give him, his tongue moving slowly yet deliciously along your wet slit as you cum in his mouth. 
He moans eagerly, taking everything you give him that floods into his mouth like the most delicious waterfall. Your moans are like music to him, making his cock strain and ache. He needs to bust at this point! When you begin to feel overstimulated, he finally stops and you roll off of him. 
You flop onto your back on the mattress, panting heavily and staring up at your body in the mirror. Your brown skin glistens in sweat and your hair is a tousled mess. Keigo gently strokes your side, his pants matching yours. “That was perfect,” he sighs. Tiredly, you nod. “You okay?” He worriedly asks. 
You’ve never felt better. But now you want more. So you turn to him and kiss him, tasting yourself off of his lips. “I want more,” you whisper. You don’t need to elaborate any more than that for him. “Lemme just get some stuff,” he murmurs, kissing your lips before moving to his nightstand drawer. 
There, he retrieves a bottle of edible lube and a water bottle for you. As you drink the water, you peek over his shoulder, spotting a pack of pre-rolled blunts that he no doubt smokes while he’s in here. Shockingly, you put a hand on his shoulder and nod down at the blunts. “Take one out,” you say. “I wanna try somethin’.” 
Keigo looks shocked since you seemed so freaked out about weed initially, but he does as you say and places the blunt and a lighter on an ashtray on the nightstand. You coax him to lean back, relishing how eager he seems as he lets you do as you want to him. You then straddle him, his hard cock pressing against your mound, and press your lips to his ear. 
“I wanna smoke while I ride you,” you whisper. “I want you to blow smoke in my mouth while you watch me take your cock.” 
Keigo shudders at your dirty suggestion, swearing under his breath. “Ya mean shotgunning?” He chuckles, raising an eyebrow at you. You flush bashfully, shrugging. You’ve only ever seen the act in movies, but the idea of it turns you on, especially when you’re taking cock. “I like you freaky like this,” he pants, gently nibbling your bottom lip. “Go ahead then, baby. Take your time.” 
So you do. You use the lube on him, stroking the cold substances up and down his shaft. He shivers at the chill until the lube warms up in your palm, your ministrations making him moan and whimper. “C’mon, mama,” he groans. “You’ll make me cum before I’m even inside you yet.” 
You add some lube around your entrance despite being as wet as an ocean. But you decide that you want to feel all of him, so you want to be as slick as possible. Taking hold of his shoulder with one hand while he securely handles your hips, you take his cock into your hand and rub it against your slit. He locks eyes with you, enjoying seeing the pleasure in them. “Fuck me,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “Take me, baby.” 
Slowly, you press the head against your entrance and gently slide down his shaft. You take his head first, the sensations you both feel causing you to gasp in unison. Then, inch by inch, you take more of his thick cock inside of your soft, curvy body. You slowly rock your hips and bounce up and down in his lap, taking him deeper and deeper with every passing second. “Mmm, fuck, Keigo,” you whine, gripping his hips as you bounce on his dick. “You feel so fucking good!” 
Keigo would tell you the same, but he’s too busy watching your pretty ass take his cock like a good girl. He loves the way your stomach jiggles; how soft your back rolls feel as he traces his fingers over them; how your tits bounce and your thighs ripple. You’re truly a specimen, especially when high. 
Speaking of high, he remembers the blunt he put on the nightstand and reaches for it, never once taking his eyes off of you. He grabs the blunt and his lighter, still watching you ride him. “You’re doin’ so well for me, baby,” he groans. “You feel so fuckin’ amazing. Keep bouncin’ on me, okay?” 
You nod, continuing to sink down onto his cock as you watch him light his blunt. He wraps his lips around one of the ends and puffs once, twice, three times as the other end burns red from the lighter. Keigo then tosses the lighter aside and inhales deeply. The smoke billows from his lips as he exhales, his golden eyes hooded and lazy. 
“Mind if I smoke?” he jokingly asks, smiling lazily at you. You’ve never seen him look sexier. “C’mere,” he murmurs. He puts the blunt to his mouth again and inhales, holding the smoke between his cheeks. 
You lean in and make a small O shape with your puckered lips. He leans in and exhales slowly, blowing the smoke in a steady stream into your mouth. The weed smoke combined with his dick inside of you is a different kind of high. Your eyes flutter shut for a moment before opening again, dazed and slightly red. 
Keigo lets out a sexy chuckle as he watches your eyes glaze over. “Nice, right?” You slowly nod, smiling deliriously at him. As you slowly grind your clit against his stomach, you lean in again, wanting more. “You want another one, huh?” he asks. “Keep fucking me just like that then.” 
You do as he says and brace yourself on his shoulders, letting him shotgun you again for an indirect kiss. It quickly turns into a direct, sloppy tongue kiss as he presses his mouth to yours. The scent of marijuana and his spicy cologne mingles in your nostrils, somehow making you wetter and more needy. “Put your hand on my throat,” you beg. “Please, Keigo!” A fire flashes behind Keigo’s eyes, excited by your sluttiness. 
His big, red wings suddenly move around you as if to shield you from everything but him as his hand shoots out to gently grasp our throat. “Fuck, babe, you’re so hot like this. Who knew all it took to turn you into a little slut was some weed?” 
He watches you between his golden slits of eyes, his lips pressed together in pleasure as he feels your slick pussy stroke him again and again, both of you softly moaning in the darkness of his bedroom. The bed creaks and bounces underneath you, your ass softly clapping against Keigo’s thighs. The lewd sounds of you fucking only makes you move a little faster and harder. “Fuck, Kei,” you whine. “I’m gonna…gonna cum soon.” 
Through gritted teeth, Keigo nods, his face flushed. “Shit, I know,” he hisses. “Me too. Need to..need to fuck you harder.” Without warning, he shoots forward, wraps an arm around you, and begins to lift his lips up to fuck you back. You gasp and toss your head back, eyes closed from the ecstasy and his thick cock stroking your insides. Your clit rubs against his pelvis with every thrust, getting you closer to your end. 
“No,” Keigo growls. “Open your eyes.” You do so and look down into his lust-blown eyes. “Look up,” he demands. “Look at yourself getting fucked, V. Look at you take that fucking dick.” 
You slowly look up into the mirror, watching the woman above you. Her tits jiggle and bounce like ripe, hanging fruit; her soft, plump body ripples as the handsome man below her fucks up into her, bringing her closer to the brink of orgasm. Her face is contorted in pleasure, her brows furrowed and lips parted as moans and gasps leave her lips. She is beautiful. And she is you. 
Seeing you look so hot getting fucked like that…God, it’s too much. You dig your nails into Keigo’s shoulders and press your face into his neck, wailing from the pleasure. “Oh, fuck!” you cry out. “Fuck yes, baby, I’m gonna…gonna…oh, fuck!” Your orgasm sneaks up on you like the killer in a slasher flick and tears you up from the inside. You come apart at the seams on Keigo’s cock, clenching and throbbing around him as you cum. 
Keigo is right behind you, slamming his hips sloppily into yours as he tries to chase that high, even babbling as he does. “That’s it, baby, cum on my cock,” he moans. “Fuck, fuck, fuck yeah, I’m gonna cum too!” 
To get him there quicker, you begin to gently stroke his wings, starting from the wing bone to the tips of his feathers, earning a soft white and a shudder in response to your ministrations. 
After a few more thrusts and a ruffle of his wings as you slide your fingers against them, Keigo’s muscles clench and he holds onto you for dear life. Ah!” he gasps as he explodes deep inside of you. You weakly moan as you feel his warm cum flood your insides, making your pussy and thighs feel wet and sticky. “Take it all,” he exhales against your chest. “Take all of me, V. It’s yours.” 
You whimper and shudder against him, overcome by your and his orgasms. The aftershocks begin to set in, causing you to hold onto him as the aftermath of the sex begins to fade. After it does, you feel exhausted. Silence swells between you both despite Keigo still being inside of you. With a soft moan, he carefully slides out of you and flops onto his back. 
You roll off of him and lay beside him onto the cool comforter. For a while, you just lay side by side, never saying a word. Your heavy pants turn into one, mingling with the sound of cars outside. In the silence, reality sets in: you just had sex with your best friend. 
Keigo clears his throat, breaking the silence. “Uh, that was…” He trails off, trying to find the right word, but not being able to. 
“Yeah,” you agree. It was fucking amazing. But also fucking strange. 
Slowly, the winged blonde turns toward you, one wing moving to cover you like a feathery, crimson blanket. “Do you wanna talk about what just happened?” he asks. “‘Cause I think we should.” You don’t say anything because what can you possibly say to this? 
Keigo props his cheek up on his fist, looking down at you in worry. “Do you regret it?” The moonlight illuminates the fear in his eyes. He’s scared you’ll say yes. 
“No,” you immediately reply and you see relief set in. “But I don’t know where we go from here. I mean, we pretty much just ruined our friendship doin’ this.” You let out an awkward chuckle though your stomach flips at the idea. 
“No shit,” he chuckles. “But if I can be honest with you, I’d rather us have done that than not. I just hope you know that everything I said to you is true: you are an amazing woman, V, and you do deserve an amazing partner like…” He stops immediately from saying whatever he is going to say. 
“Like who? You?” you joke. You look up at him and snort at your own joke…but he isn’t laughing. He looks conflicted like he’s trying hard to hide what he wants to say. Your heart leaps into your throat and your stomach does a gastric flip. “Hawks?” you quietly ask. 
Finally, he speaks. “I’ve had these…feelings for you for some time now,” he confesses. “I don’t know when they started, but they just appeared one day. I had always adored you as my friend, but once I realized how much I wanted that to change, I started looking at you as the woman I wanted in my life and adored you even more.” 
Under his soft yet intense gaze, you feel like you’re on fire. You lay there next to him, completely frozen, afraid of ruining this moment. “I don’t wanna spring this on you,” he continues, “and if you’re uncomfortable, you can always leave. But, V, all I want is for you to be happy and I’d be lying to your face if I said I didn’t want you to be happy with me.” 
He looks nervous, playing with a silver ring on his ringed fingers. You take his hands into yours, finally feeling brave enough to state the obvious: “I feel the same,” you whisper. 
Hope appears in his widened eyes, his lips twitching up into a smile. “So?” he coaxes. “Are you down for this?” 
It now occurs to you that all of this time you’ve been searching for the one on dating apps and in the streets when all you had to do was look right beside you at the one person you would’ve never suspected. Or expected. And it could be possible that things won’t work out, but it’s also possible that Hawks could be the best thing that ever happened to you. And you want to find out. You don’t care what happens. You just wanna enjoy this with him. “Okay,” you giggle. “Yeah…let’s give this a shot.” 
With a happy smile, Keigo leans in and presses a joyful kiss to your lips, cupping your face in his warm, calloused hands. You giggle, filled with giddiness. But then that happiness is stumped when your stomach rudely begins growling. 
“That’s the weed talking,” he laughs, raising his brows humorously at you. “How about we end tonight with that takeout, some more cuddling, and a round two, hm?” He takes your hands and presses two kisses to your knuckles that travel down to your pussy, making it throb impatiently. 
“That sounds perfect to me,” you purr before leaning up to kiss him again. 
You never do make it to round two. The weed fights back after you chomp down on fried chicken and Hawks’ snack stash in his kitchen, causing you both to drift off to sleep snuggled against each other. But you don’t mind because being snuggled up underneath him in his bed, feeling the softness of his wings wrapped around you, is the most intimate thing you could ask for. 
And the next morning, in the golden light of dawn pouring in through the balcony to air out the smell of weed, he makes up for it by fucking you senseless into the afternoon. 
Yeah. You definitely made the right decision. 
THE END.
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drewsephrry · 24 days ago
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Congrats on 2k 🥳
Could I pls get 💋 - Blurb for the song “Us” by James Bay
JJ x fem cause it’s such a sweet song and I can’t help but imagine a million JJ scenarios when I hear this 🥰
Thanks I appreciate it !!
thank you so much lovie and thank you for requesting!!🤍🤍
2k celebration!!!
warnings: none, i think
words: 730
There was a time when JJ Maybank’s life was simpler. Golden afternoons spent tearing through the streets of the island with his best friends, cinema nights learning the art of stolen kisses and reckless dreams of freedom. Back then, he believed they’d never grow up, never face the kind of wreckage that leaves you beaten, broken, and searching for answers. But life has a way of unraveling the things you hold most dear.
Now, JJ was struggling to find his footing in a world that felt heavier with each passing day. The laughter had faded, replaced by the echoes of old fights and regretful conversations. He’d tried to move on, tried to drown out the noise. But even through the chaos, through the riots of his mind and the wreckage of his heart, he could still hear your voice.
“JJ, you don’t have to do this alone.” Your words had been soft, steady, and filled with something he didn’t think he deserved. Hope.
“You don’t get it.” He snapped, his voice rough. “You can’t fix me. No one can.”
“I’m not trying to fix you.” You said, your voice breaking just enough for him to notice.
“I just want you to let me in. Let me help.” You confessed.
But JJ didn’t know how. For so long, he’d carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, believing it was his burden alone. He’d been the fighter, the protector. But it had left him scarred and afraid to trust in anything, especially love.
He pulled his hoodie tighter against the cool ocean breeze, his gaze fixed on the horizon. The sun was sinking low, painting the sky in fiery streaks of orange and pink.
It reminded him of better days. Days when life felt endless, the streets were paved with gold, and he believed in something more. But there was no going back. All he could do now was face what lay ahead.
You found him there, sitting on the dock, the weight of the world evident in the way his shoulders sagged. You didn’t say anything at first, just sat beside him, your presence grounding him.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.” You murmured finally, your voice calm but probing.
“I don’t know if I can do this.” He admitted, his voice cracking under the strain. “I don’t know how to keep fighting when everything feels so… broken.” Your hand found his, your fingers threading through his with a familiarity that soothed him.
“You’re not broken, JJ. You’re just… lost. But that’s okay. We’ll figure it out together.” You exclaimed as JJ laughed bitterly, shaking his head.
“You make it sound so easy. But it’s not. It’s never been easy for me.” He revealed.
“No.” You agreed, your gaze unwavering. “It hasn’t. But you’ve always kept going. Even when things got hard. Even when you felt like giving up. That’s what makes you, you.” He wanted to believe you, to believe in your unwavering faith in him, but the doubts still lingered.
“What if I let you down? What if I can’t be what you need?” He murmured.
“The only thing I need is for you to try. To stop running from the people who care about you. To believe in something, even when it’s hard.” You leaned closer, your voice a whisper that cut through his defenses. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The sound of the ocean filled the space between you, a steady rhythm that mirrored the quiet war raging inside him.
“I don’t know how to be in this world.” He admitted finally, his voice raw. “How to breathe and not feel like I’m drowning.”
“You don’t have to figure it all out at once. Just… start with me. Start with us.” Your grip on his hand tightened, your words resolute. He looked at you then and in your eyes, he saw hope and adoration. As the sun set, leaving you both in the dark, JJ felt something shift inside him. Maybe it wasn’t about having all the answers. Maybe it was about finding the courage to let someone in, even when it was scary.
“Okay.” He said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll try.”
And as the night closed in around you, JJ realized that, for the first time in what felt like forever, he didn’t feel so alone.
A/N: hope you liked this and was something you had in mind!!
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jerzwriter · 12 days ago
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Thanks for this ask - Here is part 2 of a series of little drabbles to see what Tobias does with the pumpkin pie throughout different periods of his life (and in some different worlds, too!) I hope you enjoy it as much as Tobias (and I) love pumpkin pie!
Book: Open Heart (pre-series) Characters: Tobias Carrick, Ethan Ramsey Rating: Teen Words: 1,003 Summary:             It's the Hopkins years, and if you think Ethan & Tobias's rivalry takes a break for the holidays, you would be mistaken!
A/N: Participating in @choicesholidays Winter Event - "You did what with the pumpkin pie?" and @choicesdecember2024 Day 1 - Naughty and Day 8 Spices.
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It wasn’t a typical night in Ethan and Tobias's Baltimore apartment. Tonight, neither man would be found hovering over textbooks. There was no studying and no cramming for exams, but their competitive nature wasn't taking a break - tonight, it just took on a different flavor.
The smells of cinnamon, nutmeg, and pumpkin engulfed their home, spreading out to the hallways. It smelled delicious, even if the kitchen looked like a lab experiment gone horribly wrong. Flour dusted every surface, and bits of dough were scattered everywhere. The joyful strains of Christmas music played in the background, but they were barely audible over their neverending bickering.
Tobias was proud as a peacock, holding up his pie crust as if it were a trophy. “This... this right here is art. Crisp, buttery perfection so flaky and delicious, it has been known to make angels weep.”
Ethan’s eyes rolled back in his head. “Angels don’t give a shit about your pie crust, Tobias. But they do care about flavor. It’s all about the pie filling, and I’ve perfected the ratio of spice to sweetness in mine.”
"Are you calling me bland, Becky?" Tobias smirked. "Please, I'm waiting for you to add raisins to the mix, just like you did to your potato salad on July Fourth."
This had been going on all day. All it took was Tobias casually mentioning his mother’s pumpkin pie recipe - then Ethan insisted his was better. Anyone who knew the two of them knew there was only one way this could end, and that’s how the two future doctors found themselves elbow-deep in flour, vying for culinary supremacy.
Ethan’s girlfriend, Vincenza, sat perched on a stool nearby – close enough to bear witness but far enough away to avoid becoming a casualty. She was as patient as she was beautiful, quietly sipping her wine as she watched the chaos unfold. “For the record, if this ends in a tie, I’m declaring myself the winner just for sitting through this. It’s not exactly how I planned on spending date night.”
Dina, Tobias’s “flavor of the week,” leaned against the fridge with a grin. The raven haired law student had quickly adapted to the whirlwind that was Tobias Carrick, and tonight was no exception. “Hey, I’m just here for free pie,” she laughed. “But I have to admit, you two are taking this far too seriously.”
“Too seriously?” Tobias gasped, clutching his rolling pin to his chest. “There is no such thing as ‘too seriously’ when it comes to pumpkin pie.”
“For once, you're right,” Ethan said without missing a beat. “This is serious business, Dina... it's not for the faint of heart!”
By the time they placed the pies in the oven, the kitchen looked like a war zone. Vincenza snapped a photo for posterity—or, as she put it, for “evidence when you inevitably blame each other for this mess.”
About an hour later, the two pies emerged from the oven, golden and fragrant. Dina blindly placed a sticker with the letter A and another with the letter B at the bottom of both pies. Then, the four of them sat around the small table for the taste-off.
Vincenza went first, thoughtfully tasting a bite of Pie A. She was impressed. “The crust is really good – buttery, flaky... and the filling isn’t bad either. This is off to a solid start.” She cleansed her palate with a sip of wine before moving on to Pie B. Her eyebrows shot up. “Wow! This one is spicy! Great texture... it has a bite. They're both great, but it's B for me.”
Dina was next and eager to offer her opinion. “Pie A feels classic, like something that would be served on antique china at a fancy Thanksgiving dinner. But Pie B is more... adventurous. It’s like a modern twist on an old classic. It’s great, but A is more my speed.”
Tobias and Ethan each tried to maintain poker faces as they bit into what they assumed to be their own creations. Tobias declared A the winner, while Ethan insisted it was B.
Vincenza peeked under the pie pans. “Not that it matters since it’s a 2-2 tie, but Pie A belonged to Tobias, and Pie B was Ethan’s.”
“A tie,” Tobias groaned. “I demand a recount.”
But Ethan merely shrugged, taking a bite of Tobias’s pie. “Honestly, I’m impressed. Your crust is better than I expected. If you’d just used my pie filling, you might’ve actually won this thing.”
“You two are insufferable,” Vincenza said, shaking her head with a laugh. “But at least we get two great pies out of this!”
As the night went on, Dina stood up with a yawn. “Well, I’m exhausted,” she said, giving Tobias a pointed look. “I’m going to head to bed.”
“I’ll be right in, gorgeous," Tobias winked.
But before he made his way to his room, Ethan caught his friend grabbing the remainder of his pie filling and a can of whipped cream from the fridge out of the corner of his eye. Tobias almost made a clean getaway when Ethan’s voice called out.
 “What are you going to do with that?” he asked, eyes narrowed.
Tobias paused in the doorway, his signature mischievous grin spreading across his face as he turned around slowly. “Oh, nothing wholesome, my friend. Nothing wholesome at all... do you really want to know?”
Ethan groaned, running a hand down his face. “Please, forget I asked.”
“Done,” Tobias nodded, “but unless you and Chenza are planning on making some noise of your own, you may want to put up the Christmas music. Capiche?”
“You know, getting through medical school is hard enough without having to deal with you.”
“Please,” Tobias laughed. “I keep things... interesting.”
Ethan stepped into the living room and joined Vincenza on the couch, laughing despite himself. He turned up the volume of the radio before slipping an arm around his girlfriend. Life with Tobias was always unpredictable—but it was never, ever boring.
@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics
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redheadspark · 1 year ago
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May I request "I'm so so sorry, you don't deserve that," with Benedict bridgerton please 💗
A/N - Thanks for the request, anon!
Joy
Summary - Benedict knows how to bring you joy
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Warnings - Mostly angst with a hint of fluff in the end
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Benedict opened the door into your personal study just at the very moment you held your head in your hands, a singular piece of paper on the desk in your mother's writing and some tears were evident on the paper.  He panicked, closing the door right behind him as he walked into the study.
“Darling?” He asked, making his way over to your side as you were attempting to hide your tears from him.  But it was no use, some of the tears were stashing the letter now as Benedict reached for your clammy hand.  You laced your fingers together, Benedict coaxing you to look at him and see his eyes that were filled with worry and the worst thoughts.
“My mother,” You simply stated, Benedict’s eyes moving from you to the tear-stained paper.  He took the letter with his spare hand, scanning the letter rapidly with his eyes as you were attempting to wipe the tears away.  From what he was reading and digesting in the letter, it all was negative feedback at your mother’s usual tactics in trying to make you feel bad for being a Bridgerton wife.  Benedict was already on thin ice with her because of his family name, your mother was far too traditional for her daughter to be courted by a family that had a so-called “reputation” among the elite and upper class.  
Yet you never cared, you are simply in love with Benedict and his love for art and life.  You two fell for each other hard and fast, courting for several months before you broke the engagement to your mother.  She was shocked, thinking of it as another scandal in the making, and was instantly against it.  No matter how many times you told her Benedict was a good man, giving her proof of a suitable living situation and his contributions to art and the community, she only focused on his last name and the scandals of the past.
Even a year later she still spoke ill towards you and your new family, which made it worse for you.
Benedict could only sigh as he placed the letter to the side and reached over to embrace you in his arms.  The last thing he wanted to do was upset you more since he could say plenty of ill things to his mother-in-law.  You placed boundaries with her when you and Benedict were married, knowing that it was the best way to both be happy and to have a relationship with her.  But of course, your mother never minded the jabs every now and then, to which Benedict’s dislike for her was growing by the day.  Yet you never let those words deter you from your love for him, making Benedict all the more proud to be your husband.  
“I can’t believe she disinvited us to her home for Christmas,” You mumbled into his shirt, Benedict told you a bit tighter as you were clinging onto him for support, “I thought she was turning a corner with us and how she feels about us.”
“As did I, Darling,” Benedict hummed in agreement as he pressed a kiss in your hair, “But your mother is set in her ways, which is no excuse for how she treats her own kin,”
“I thought it would be better for her since my father died,” You said in a whisper, “He loved you.  I wish he was here to speak reason with her,”
Benedict pushed the hair out of your eyes as he made you look up at him.  Your prestige bright eyes that he loved and adored were pouring into his as he gave you a somber look.
“I’m so so sorry, you don’t deserve that,” He calmly said to you as he pressed his forehead against yours, “You know that you have my family who adores you.  My sisters are obsessed with you, and my brothers always tell me I’m a lucky man to have you.  Especially Anthony, he tells me daily until he’s blue in the face,”
You cracked a grin, Benedict chuckling at the sight of you finally smiling.
“I know it hurts, what your mother is doing to you.  But you still have a family, with my own mother, and my siblings.  And of course with me. I’m your family, okay?”  He asked, you sighed and nodded your head as he kissed you softly.  Every time your mother shot you down and made you feel small, Benedict built you up and made you strong.  Fresh flowers in your vase by your bedside, new paintings and sketches that he was inspired by as a gift to you on your birthday or anniversary, and simply giving you the love and affection that he knew you craved.
“Now If I know my mother, she would be over the moon to host the pair of us for Christmas, along with the rest of the family,” Benedict said to you as he helped you out of the chair and wrapped an arm around you, “It’s already been decided actually: Anthony and Kate will be there along with Daphne and Simon.”
“Sounds lovely, Benedict,” You said with a giggle, feeling him peck you with kisses all over your face as you were giggling and trying to duck away from him.  A chorus of laughter was heard from your study, changing the mood from somber and sadness to lightness and joy.  
Benedict would do that every day just to bring a smile to your face. 
The End
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biblicallyaccuratecrow · 2 months ago
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rambling about songs my brain associates with isat (pt. 1)
[woe, spoilers be upon ye!]
i have a 250+ song isat playlist. I am unhealthily obsessed with finding new songs to put in it. Here's a few that make me go absolutely batshit insane.
I've already rambled about this one on my art account a while back, but this song is so insanely loop-coded....
I'm standing on a stage Of fear and self-doubt It's a hollow play, But they'll clap anyway
You could give me any song that has some kind of reference to plays or theatre and I could probably find a way to make it about isat. but specifically this makes me think about twohats and how loop views their place in the world as a performance, a pawn, not even a character but a plot device... yeah
I'm living in an age That calls darkness light Though my language is dead Still the shapes fill my head I'm living in an age Whose name I don't know Though the fear keeps me moving, Still my heart beats so slow
I probably don't have to break this one down for you, but yeah, Island North of Vaugarde, the forgotten language... "still the shapes fill my head" has always in my mind referenced the stars and constellations, and how they're familiar but foreign...
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thanks to @/ricecaqes and their trust ceremony animatic, this song lives in my head rent free. Even just as a whole this song is SO isat for me. literally from the first fucking lines:
Will I know when I’ve gone too far? Or frozen myself in time? An impossible brain with impossible wants Lost and astray, with impossible thoughts
like. it really can't get much more nail on the head than that?
then you got this:
So cold, I’m freezing Every piece of praise and sign that I’m believed in Solid in a crystal ball It bends the waves of the light to mend the rest of my life
and literally the first time I heard this song i paused it and said, out loud, "OH FUCK." Because. it's act 5 siffrin. Like, the slow descent into despair followed by the determination that the only way to perserve the life and the family they love is to keep them with him, to do the exact same thing the king did...
Do you also see your future starting with the farthest part? Live your life to close the space between the end and start And when it’s hard, do you hang onto any chance That you might be in control? That you’re the one who owns
For one, once you reach the end of act 2, you're constantly aware of the head housemaiden being as far as you can go, and then you're planning around it the entire time.
And then, you have. siffrin grasping for any kind of control they can have over the situation, desperately. and failing repeatedly because they simultaneously think that they are undeserving of getting what they ultimately want... yeah...
i won't go into the rest of the lyrics because honestly it's pretty well covered by the animatic but. yeah trust ceremony my sweet beloved.
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rest in peace siffrin no middle no last name, you would have loved the mountain goats.
yeah uh. this one is also pretty high up on songs that make me go "damn that's siffrin alright".
I am this great, unstable mass of blood and foam And no one in her right mind would make my home her home My heart's an autoclave
i think for me it's the idea of siffrin feeling like they're nothing, and even if they are something or someone, they are bad, worse than bad, worthless. also referencing homesickness.... yeah...
When I try to open up to you I get completely lost Houses swallowed by the earth, windows thick with frost And I reach deep down within, but the pathways twist and turn And there's no light anywhere, and nothing left to burn
I mean, this one is also pretty self-evident. siffrin losing hope while being stuck in the house... wanting to connect with the party but being completely uncapable of doing so out of the sheer terror of being left behind... act 5, with the house literally warping...
I dreamt that I was perched atop a throne of human skulls On a cliff above the ocean, howling wind and shrieking seagulls And the dream went on forever, one single static frame Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name
siffrin feels responsible for the loops, every aspect of them. their deaths, their party-member's deaths, their failures, everything. and in the end, all they really wanted was for someone to truly see them? to have a family, to not be left behind and forgotten by the world.... the importance of names and siffrin's name in particular in the story also makes this hit home for me.
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for brevity's sake i'll just start with these three- if people are interested in hearing me justify my insane music choices i'll probably do more.... for now, see ya!
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lady-griffin · 2 months ago
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#ArcaneSeason01 | When and how did Jinx develop fishbones?
Thank you for your ask Anon!
I’m sorry it took me years to finally answer it, but at least I’m answering it the day S2 airs, so that’s something, right?
Also, I worked on this before S2 aired (before I watched it), so if something turns out to be wrong - oh well, I did my best. Again, sorry for the super late response.
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Fishbones – The Idea and the When
This might surprise a lot of people since many see Fishbones as something Jinx specifically made for Silco, but the show’s details make it clear Jinx had the idea for Fishbones before she ever met Silco.
The main evidence being one of Powder’s drawings -
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The bottom drawing depicts the very basic concept of Fishbones - a shark shooting a fiery blast out of its mouth with a bullet above it.
Fishbones is clearly a power fantasy of Powder’s, which makes sense. Violence was beyond the norm for her growing up and unlike Vi, physical hand to hand combat was not something she excelled at.
Now, her having this fantasy or dream weapon doesn’t make Powder some evil child who was always going to be violent, she was a kid growing up in a violent world, who wanted to be useful, so it makes perfect sense she wanted to have (make) this “ultimate gun” – especially since shooting was something she truly excelled at.
I would also argue, she has more of a desire to create weapons that are uniquely hers, rather than just weapons to hurt people. Because despite all her insecurities she’s always been confident in her own artistic and general self-expression.
Powder obviously admired her sister and wanted to be like Vi, but she never tried to be Vi. She pursued things she was interested in and even what she was good at, rather than abandon all of it to be more like Vi.
In many ways, whether as Powder or Jinx, she's always remained true to herself.
Her weapons, particularly Fishbones are arguably proof of that. As, the same drawing (or a near identical one) is hanging up in Jinx’s lab in ep. 4.
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Indicating Fishbones is still something she wants to make, despite how much she's changed and is different from her younger self.
Bonus Material -
Additionally, we have a promotional image of what comes with The Collector’s Edition of Arcane, giving us a clearer picture of said initial drawing of Fishbones.
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As well as the blueprint three of Jinx's weapons (including Fishbones) and her other drawings.
Her blueprints are interesting to me, because they’re this mix of childishness and sophistication.
There’s a lot of “maturity” in how the actual drawings are clean, concise, and well-made. They don’t have Jinx’s usual scribbling style or aesthetic, which is evidence of something I’ve always believed about Jinx – her art style is simply just that, her style of choice.
Mostly importantly these are blueprints; meaning Fishbones is no longer just the abstract idea of a shark with a fiery blast, but now an actual idea of a possible weapon to be used.
Now in general it’s hard to tell what specific age Jinx drew something because of her scribbly style, but I’m leaning towards her being on the younger side for these.
Though it's more than possible she made the blueprint of Fishbones after Silco took her in.
Nonetheless, Fishbones has been an idea of Jinx’s long before Silco entered her life - meaning he wasn't the sole for reason why she built Fishbones.
Fishbones - The Design (Inspiration and Reason)
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Now, I do agree with the common consensus that Fishbones was made with Silco in mind, specifically his love for sea monsters – BUT he’s not the only one with a love for monsters.
If we pay attention to the details, it's obvious, Powder had an affinity for monsters as well, even a fondness for sharks specifically. 
Which is just the cutest thing ever.
Can you imagine how happy Silco was when he learned his newly adopted daughter loved sharks and other monstrous creatures?
I know that has nothing to do with your question, but I just can’t get over that. Seriously, imagining that scene is just way too cute.
Evidence of Powder’s Affinity Towards Monsters
Ep. 1 - Shark plushie
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In ep. 1, we see a shark plushie right before Vi goes to comfort Powder. Now, either Powder made this plushie herself or it was made for her, but either way it’s obviously Powder’s.
It also looks very similar to the rocket she shot from Fishbones – the grin especially.
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Act I - Powder’s grenades
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Throughout Act 1 we see several of Powder's grenades and also hear her talk about them. Note how she designed them, she didn’t simply draw a cute little poro or dragon on them, she actually designed them to be little creatures themselves.
She goes even further, by giving them names and pronouns; which to me, shows how many of her weapons are meant to be their own little creatures, not just weapons.  
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Fishbones is a great example of what I’m talking about – because he’s not a bazooka with a shark drawn on him, he’s an actual SHARK bazooka.
Plus, I’m using he/him pronouns instead of calling Fishbones an it, because of the intentional “life” and personality Jinx has imbued into this weapon, and also from how she interacts with him in other League media.  
Ep. 6 - Powder drawing monsters
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Vi has a hallucination/memory of Powder drawing the monsters they made up to outdo one another, so even though Vi said she went too far at times and Powder got scared, clearly Powder loved their game.
Which, by the sounds of it, was solely made up with the purpose of keeping Powder happy and entertained.
Ep. 7 and Enemy (mv) - Powder's battle helmet
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With its eyes and teeth, clearly her helmet is another one of her monsters. And again, we don't simply see a cute figure simply drawn on the helmet, instead what Powder did here, like with her grenades, is turn her helmet into its own little monster.
Another couple of tiny details
In ep. 1 - Powder picks up something from the trash when Claggor and Vander are leaving the Last Drop and it looks very similar to the teeth of her future chomper grenades.
Even if they're not the same - Powder she clearly saw something that resembled sharp teeth and kept it.
There’s also her clapping monkey toy and while that's not a monster, it’s still a pretty creepy toy.
In the S2 trailer - Shark hoodie.
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I know I said I was only focusing on S1, but I couldn't not talk about her hoodie, because she's wearing a shark hoodie!
It’s interesting - because some say this is her fully embracing Silco and his legacy while others claim this her returning to being Powder once again, as she's wearing something similar to what she wore when she played with Ekko – with the markings on her cheeks and everything.
I think it’s 100% both of those things, while also just Jinx being Jinx – someone who has always loved monsters and sharks.
-
Now I genuinely believe Fishbones was a gift for Silco; it’s just that Fishbones was always going to be Jinx's weapon. If anything, Jinx made Fishbones for Silco AND herself - something for the two of them to share.
Because if Silco had lived and they had attacked Piltover together, Jinx would’ve still been the one firing Fishbones, Silco would’ve been standing right there next to her of course, but Fishbones was always going to be her weapon.
Fishbones - The Physical and Literal When
My theory is that Jinx has tried to make Fishbones over the years and was finally only able to complete him (in a few days), once she figured out hextech (Acts II & III.)
The main Fishbones drawing I've been talking about proves he wasn’t thought of and then made and finished in a few days, rather he’s been in the works for a while.
I also think the scene in which we see the drawing is some great foreshadowing.
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The unrefined hextech crystals landing top of the drawings of Fishbones and her family, right after her breakdown (ep. 3).
Fishbones may have only been an idea at the time and maybe that's all he could've ever been, but once the crystals were refined into gemstones, there became a way for Jinx to bring her vision to life.
I could also argue, that without the tragedy of losing her family and Silco taking her in - Fishbones may have never existed.
Even with Powder's fantasy of Fishbones and her being more than ready to use her grenades, she's never actually hurt anyone before, not as far as we know. It's possible if things stayed relatively the same, Powder would've ended up freaked out or scared of the reality of what her weapons can do.
Jinx on the other, being raised by Silco... not so much.
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I'm so glad I noticed all these monster and shark details, because initially my timeline for Fishbones was that Jinx came up with the idea for him and executed said idea in less than a week.
While Jinx is beyond impressive, when would she have time to do that?
Seriously, even if Jinx didn't get any sleep (more than likely) there are only so many hours in a day and she was doing a million other things.
But with this new (very loose) timeline, well everything makes a whole lot more sense.
It's still beyond amazing Jinx made and finished Fishbones in the time frame she did – but it’s more doable (for her), especially since Jinx has shown to be able to accomplish a whole lot when she’s under a time crunch.
But like I've said, I believe Jinx has been working on Fishbones for years now and I’m guessing she couldn’t make her specific vision of him into a reality because she didn’t have a strong enough power source; so, he was put on hold.
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But once she cracked the gemstone/hextech – it was “simply” a matter of redesigning Fishbone’s design to be a hextech devise.
Basically, I think Jinx was able to finish Fishbones by the finale, because she salvaged her previous protypes of him for parts
None of this is easy or simple by the way. Fishbones truly shows how much of a genius Jinx is. Seriously, consider the fact that at the end of S1 the three experts on hextech and known inventors of its devises are Jinx and the two literal creators and founders of Hextech.
That's amazing.
Jinx taught herself hextech by using the notes and research she stole from them, which is beyond insane and I feel like so many undercut how truly impressive that actually is.
In addition, Fishbones' existence shows us how inventive, adaptive, and weirdly enough practical Jinx is.
The last one may seem odd, but remember Silco told her she needed to crack hextech sooner than later, so, working with a design she's been struggling with for years and adapting said design to be a hextech one; rather than just starting from scratch is really practical of her.
And Jinx did all of this while remaining true to herself and her aesthetic, because she's all about that self-expression and creativity.
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Jinx wouldn’t/couldn’t design just any weapon for Silco, especially not for his war against Piltover, none of those weapons would've been good enough for him or for her.
The weapon she made to help Silco finally turn the tables on Piltover, would've had to be something significant and meaningful to them both, because this is important to them.
So, even though Silco never saw Fishbones, I know he would’ve absolutely appreciated and loved him.
Fishbones was made to be something the two could share in a way; if anything, he’s a symbol of their bond as well as all the things they have in common, in particular their shared love and admiration for monstrous creatures.
And I absolutely love that so goddamn much, because in a way Fishbones shows Silco and Jinx were “always meant” to be father and daughter.
Who else would’ve truly appreciated her giant shark bazooka?
Who else would’ve found Silco's sea monsters to be just as beautiful and awe inspiring as he did?
Summary
Fishbones was an idea of Jinx’s long before she ever met Silco and what started out as power fantasy of a young powerless girl, became not only a reality, but her ultimate show of power (at least for S1).
Fishbones was made for Silco’s sake though, Jinx was going to present him to Silco as the weapon to turn the tables on Piltover.
He's a shark because of Silco's love for sea monsters AND because of Jinx's own love and fondness for monsters (+ sharks).
Fishbones also, at least I think so, shows their bond as father and daughter over the years.  
In regards to when Jinx made Fishbones, I think since Silco took her in, she's likely tried to make him a few times, but he's never worked – likely because she didn't have a strong enough power source.
But once she figured out hextech, she was able to implement the tech into her redesign, and by using her other skills and knowhow, Jinx was able to create the perfect weapon for herself.
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tired-teacher-blog · 1 year ago
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Characters : Tattoo artist Aizawa/ Florist fem reader
Featuring : Eri/ Hizashi Yamada/ Nemuri Kayama/ Oboro Shirakumo/ Emi Fukukado
Warnings and Genre : Fluff/ Romance/ Smut and Angst in future chapters/ Multi Chaptered Story
Summary : In a desperate attempt to get closer to the tattoo artist dominating every speck of your brain, you decide to pay him a visit one evening as a client seeking his service. This encounter will prove to be the beginning of something much bigger between you two, but will this new found passion be enough to stand against the difficulties your future holds?
Notes : Loosely inspired by this/ Art below is by the wonderful @/ael-draw who gifted me this gorgeous piece.
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Masterlist|Second Masterlist|Third Masterlist
Chapter Count : Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8 • Part 9 • Part 10 • Part 11
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_ "Nothing looks good damnit!" you whine frustratedly at your reflection in the mirror after trying out the nth outfit and hating everything that has touched your skin.
It's Saturday, the day you and Aizawa agreed upon for your dinner date, but the butterflies in your stomach are clouding your judgement and making you doubt yourself.
You look up the wall clock hanging opposite of your bed and bite down on your lip as you only have twenty minutes left until he's on your doorstep, definitely not enough time for you to dress up, fix your hair and makeup but you have to hurry, and you have to look beautiful, for him..
You glance at yourself one last time before taking a deep breath while many questions race through your mind, will he like this dress on you? Should you have kept it a bit more casual instead? Are you wearing too much makeup? Or maybe too little of it?
You jump up suddenly as the piercing sound of the doorbell reaches you, it must be him..
_ "Good evening, Mr Aizawa," it is him, in all his glory, clad in a pair of expensive looking black pants that hugged his slender legs marvelously, and an elegant white dress shirt with the top two buttons undone, giving you a glimpse of his lean chest. He looks breathtaking, "I hope it wasn't too hard finding my apartment."
_ "It wasn't, you described it perfectly," he replies with a smile before adding, "you look beautiful."
_ "Thank you, that's so sweet of you," you look down at your feet, striving to conceal the deep blush warming up your cheeks, "and you look.. really handsome."
_ "Thanks," he chuckles softly while extending his hand to you, "shall we go?"
You did not expect yourself to be comfortable enough while sharing your life stories with someone you wished to impress, but something about him is making you put your guard down and speak freely even about the silliest and most embarrassing of tidbits.
He is charming, gentle, and an amazing listener, and between the delicious food in front of you and his pleasant company, you're feeling like you've known him for years, and you wish the night would never end.
You're learning a lot about him already, things you have never known before, or expected, things which are making you feel much closer to him.
Your eyes are fixed on the alluring man before you, listening to him eagerly while he tells you about once being a high school teacher for a few years along with his profession of a tattooist and owner of the studio facing your shop.
You now also know that Mr Yamada, Mr Shirakumo and Ms Kayama are his best friends since high school, they've been working with him since day one and made it easier for him to juggle two jobs.
_ "I never expected you to have had such an ordinary job before, and with kids no less!" you're trying your best to control your excitement at this new discovery, "somehow, this makes you sound even cooler than I thought."
He clears his throat and looks away from your blinding smile with evident bashfulness in his demeanor, "it does? Well, thanks."
He's cute, extremely so, and you've never thought the day would come when you would be describing him as such, but here you are, and it's making you fall for him harder each second that passes.
_ "Was there a reason why you had to quit your teaching job? I mean, I can imagine how tiresome it must've been for you to work day and night."
_ "You're right, but that's not the reason why I left school, it was because.." he smiles again, a bit differently than before, as if recalling a sweet memory, "I haven't told you this yet, but I have a daughter from a previous relationship, her name is Eri and she's seven.
A daughter? He's a father? You would have never expected this, it's even more surprising than learning about him being a teacher in the past, but it's adding to his charm and making you eager to know more.
He takes a sip of his drink before carrying on, "I didn't even know I had her until a few years ago, her mom kept the whole thing from me."
_ "Eri.. that's a cute name," you giggle softly while imagining him with his little girl, he is full of surprises, "was it serious between you and your ex?"
_ "It wasn't, we were young and stupid, and broke up after a few weeks of dating, and I didn't see her after that until she knocked on my door one day with Eri in her arms, she told me she was getting married and that I had to take care of our daughter because her to be husband didn't want kids."
_ "It must've been a lot to take huh? Was this the reason why you quit school?" you've been too invested in his story that you failed to notice your face inching closer to his.
_ "I was given a chance to make up for all the time I couldn't be there for her, so I had to make a choice, I owed her at least that much." he traces a finger along the back of your hand, and you almost shiver at the electrifying sensation of his touch.
_ "Is she home now? Who's keeping her company?"
_ "Her babysitter is, a wonderful woman with years of experience and kids of her own who are in their twenties now, so she knows exactly how to take care of Eri when I'm not home or working."
_ "you're an amazing person Mr Aizawa, and Eri will grow up to be a wonderful woman because she has a father like you." the warmth spreading throughout your veins is reaching your fingertips, this man sitting across from you is beautiful, inside and out, he is simply perfect.
_ "You're the one who's amazing," he finally holds your hand in his, squeezing it lightly for emphasis, "you know, I've never really cared about having a partner, and none of my previous encounters were serious because I was afraid of somehow hurting Eri or making her feel neglected, so I was fine just being a father, and promised myself that I will only expose her to people I can trust," he brings your hand to his lips, planting a soft peck there, and lingering for a moment, before meeting your eyes again, "and then you moved in across from me, and I haven't been able to take you out of my mind since."
You bite down on your lip to keep from squealing, as the feeling of his words and his kiss is driving you insane.
His words take you back to that day, when you opened the doors of your shop for the first time ever, almost seven months ago, you were both excited and anxious at the same time, you have put every last penny you owned into it and you were determined to succeed.
It was then when you met this handsome man, the one who has since made your days more exciting as you counted the seconds each day until seeing him for those mere moments that made up for hours of waiting, and here he says that he has noticed you? How come you have been so oblivious to that?
_ "How?" you have to know.
_ "Well, I found it cute when you froze in place the first time you saw me but tried your hardest to look nonchalant as you greeted me, it was obvious you were pretending and I found it endearing." your hand is still in his, and your eyes are following the invisible pattern he's drawing on your skin, because you're not confident enough to look him in the eye just yet.
_ "Tha.. that's not true." and you're pouting now, not for being upset, but rather for being embarrassed to be found out.
_ "I love that your reactions are always too honest," he chuckles heartily, "it shows how pure you are, and makes being with you very comforting."
The heat in your face is raising remarkably as you pull your hand from his so you could lace your fingers together in a rare moment of boldness.
_ "I was right about you all along," you start after a minute of silence, "you are too kind hearted Mr Aizawa."
Your time with him has been magical, the best night of your life, and the bright smile is refusing to leave your face as he drives you home.
_ "I had a wonderful time Mr Aizawa, thank you for asking me out." and your eyes are fixed on the ground as he walks you to your doorstep.
_ "Thank you for saying yes," he doesn't miss a beat as he replies, smiling softly while you both come to a halt facing each other and surrounded by the night's fresh air that's casting a pleasant atmosphere around you, "I wanted to ask you out for a while now actually, but didn't want to make things awkward in case you said no."
_ "Yo.. you really mean that? Then, what made you change your mind?"
_ "It was the moment you barged in and asked for a tattoo, you were nervous, but also quite brave, I was blown away and.." he breathes in deeply, "somehow I thought that maybe a part of the reason why you showed up that day, was because you wanted to see me."
_ "It was, it actually was.." you look into his eyes as you speak, suddenly all bashfulness and hesitation are leaving you, "I nearly gave up on all hope, but I'm glad I didn't."
His shoulders visibly relax as he gets even closer to you that your breaths are now mingling, his hand comes up to cradle your cheek and the cool feeling of it against your heated skin coaxes you into nuzzling it, "can I kiss you?" he requests cautiously, and you nod fervently.
He leans in slowly, pecking your parted lips once and pulling back to gaze into your longing eyes before connecting your lips again.
It's slow and gentle, and the feeling of his surprisingly soft lips is weakening your knees.
You are kissing him, truly, unlike the countless days and nights you spent imagining it, this is actually happening and it's so much better than all your fantasies.
His arms are on your waist, holding you securely and pulling you flush against his toned chest, as you reach yours around his neck to bring him closer and deepen the kiss.
Your lips are moving together in rhyme, and you fight the urge to whimper against him, he's stealing your breath away but you don't mind, you don't have to breathe, you don't want to pull away, you just need to feel him a bit longer.. just a little bit more..
Sadly though, a gush of air slaps your face as he parts from you, and your lips are suddenly feeling lonely without him.
_ "Sweet," he breathes out, half lidded eyes studying your flushed face, "tonight was perfect."
_ "It was." your arms slide down his neck to rest against his chest, and you can feel his thundering heartbeat under your touch.
_ "I'll see you Monday." and he finally releases you from his warm embrace.
_ "Oh, yeah.. right, Monday." it's impossible for you to hide your gloom, Monday seems far away, and that little moment you're used to share every evening as you close your shop and he opens his, doesn't seem enough anymore.
_ "Unless.." he interrupts your thoughts and your ears prick up as you listen eagerly, "I'm taking Eri to the park tomorrow afternoon, do you want to join us?"
_ "Can I really come?" you are overwhelmed with emotions, looking up at him with shine in your eyes and a wide smile on your lips.
You haven't forgotten what he said earlier, about being careful whom he allows near his daughter, and hearing his invitation to share the day with them is more than you can dream of happening.
He takes your hand in his, planting a soft kiss on your skin before speaking, "I'd love that."
_ "Then I won't miss it for the world!"
To be continued..
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